#it's not as if i had been subtle about it

[lambilegs]

I adore your best friend's older sister! Sevika headcanons, literally been rereading since last night 😫

I had a thought, a little crumb, a little ✨food for thought ✨, but what about Best friend's older sister! Sevika getting jealous. Maybe they aren't together yet and she spots reader getting a lil too cozy with another friend. Or maybe they are together and Sevika is not liking the way reader's coworker is gettin a lil too comfy 👀😤

I've truly thought about this too often lol, sorry for the rambles ♡

best friend's older sister!sevika getting jealous <3

note to anon: BAE DON'T APOLOGIZE THIS IDEA IS SOOOO <33 and omg thank you so so much!! I'm so happy you like it hehe. so, I decided to expand upon the first idea you gave because it's so so good, though I LOVE both. like, thank you so much for sending these thoughts AHHH <33

so, I totally agree with you that best friend's older sister!sevika would definitely be possessive. it's only worsened pre-confession because you're not hers yet, so she doesn't feel like she has much of a right to do anything about it. at least if you guys were together, she could wrap her arm around your waist or kiss your head, something silent to signify to others that you're hers.

but, as much as you two have teased and been pushing and pulling these past few months, that's all it's been. push, pull, push, pull. no confession, no asking out, no dates. and, listen, sevika doesn't mind the long game necessarily -- she knew from the get go that if she was gonna be pursuing you, it'd have to be serious. she wasn't about to get into some vague, unidentified shit with her sister's best friend. not only would her sister kill her for that, but it's not even what she's interested in in the first place. it's easy to talk to you, to trust you. it's easy to want something longterm with you. but, longterm means she needs to put in the work of trusting you. and for her, that takes a while. so, she doesn't mind the long game.

what she does mind, though, is that taking things slow means that in this whole getting-to-know-you phase, she doesn't know exactly where your head is at. if you want something serious, if you're ready for a relationship. she knows she should be asking you these questions, but as much as she hates to admit it, it makes her uncomfortable to think of being so honest about these feelings of hers. and what being honest could potentially lead to, like a pierce into your guys' relationship, whatever the hell it is.

but, goddammit, is it fucking hard to not grab you, drag you to her room and show you exactly how she feels when you're on the living room couch, canoodling up to one of the girls in yours and her sister's friend group. she knows how it is for you guys. no boundaries, endless amounts of teasing, flirting, nasty jokes. but, that doesn't make it any easier to see you nuzzling your head into one of their shoulders, the two of you swapping and laughing hysterically over suggestive comments about leaving the room to do some "private activities."

sevika grits her teeth from where she can hear the conversation, gripping the handle to the fridge hard. she sucks in a sharp breath, shakes her head, and grabs her bottle of water from the side shelf. shutting it close quietly, she makes her way to her bedroom, sock-clad feet heavy against the wood.

when she walks past your group, practically cuddled in the living room, she nods quietly at the group of you guys, feeling her shoulders tense up when you and her make eye contact. your head darts off your friend's shoulder, and she nearly snickers. you really aren't subtle when it comes to paying her attention. and today, she doesn't feel like returning it, her stomach clenched in anger over the unabashed flirting she just overheard.

she's in the middle of tinkering at her desk, tweaking some annoying shit that keeps making a scraping noise every few hours, when a knock comes to her room.

"yeah?" she mutters, trying not to throw the screwdriver right at the wall.

when you poke your head in, she glances at your momentarily before continuing her work. she hates how her stomach flips at your arrival, how she suddenly feels clumsy with the tools under your gaze.

"what?"

you start from where you lean on her doorframe. "I just, um, wanted to check if we're good?"

"just peachy," she huffs out, dragging her wrist past her brow, which is sticky with sweat. "why?"

"well, um..." you trail off, shifting on your feet. "you usually smile or say hi now, and right now, you didn't."

she feels a flash of irrational annoyance. she doesn't like the fact that you can read her so easily, as though you have her constantly under a microscope. she doesn't wanna have to deal with her jealousy, her feelings, but you cornering and confronting her like this doesn't make that easy.

"I'm fine."

she blinks hard at the gears when her bedroom door softly clicks shut.

"no, you're not. sevika, come on, what's wrong?" you trot over to her desk, standing right next to her, shoving your presence into her space. "tell me."

she sighs, her body stiff with embarrassment and irritation at your stubbornness. god, things would be so much easier if you weren't so damn feisty, always snapping back at her. but, at the same time, though she'd never tell you, she can't help but like your persistence.

"do you have to be so damn flirty with all your friends?" she bites, immediately regretting the words as soon as they shoot out. so much for subtlety.

your head jerks back. "that's why you're upset? sevika, I've always flirted with them, you know that. I'm sure you've seen your fair share of it for years now."

"yeah, well, now, it's different." she keeps her eyes locked onto the desk, and when she realizes just how thinly veiled the implication of her words are, she rushes to add, "now, I think it's risky shit. you know, someone could get the wrong idea."

you scoff. "it's been like this for years. no one will get the wrong idea."

she rolls her eyes, grumbling incoherent words. she knows you're right. she's made her own fair share of jokes like that with her buddies, even the ones she wouldn't be caught dead with in any lifetime. and you're right, your little gang has always been like this. but, none of that helps to dampen the burning irritation that grows in her stomach when she sees you being so touchy with someone who isn't her. with someone who may think they have a chance with you, no matter how slim. she doesn't want you to have options, she wants to be the only one you see in that way.

"and I don't want you to get the wrong idea, either."

she freezes at the words, her hand stilling.

you inch in closer and your warm palm rests on her shoulder. she feels something stir inside her at the touch, wishing you'd slide the rest of your hand down her arm. you guys have touched briefly, sure, but it's usually fleeting, teasing. this, though? this is tender, and -- it's intimate. you're trying to reassure her, she can tell. she knows it's a nice thing to do, but a part of her cringes at the fact that her feelings were so badly concealed that you even needed to comfort her at all. she should be better than this.

"I don't see anyone in my group like that, okay?" you pause, and the silence between you two thickens. right before it becomes suffocating to the point of sevika forcing herself to respond, you add, your voice quiet and shaky, "trust me, it's not my friends whose attention I want like that. just one other person... who's close by."

her nostrils flare, her breaths feeling tighter than before. are you saying what she thinks you are?

"okay," she manages to get out.

"okay." your hand slips from her shoulder, and she feels the cold of your absence as you turn to leave. without thinking, her hand flies up, catching yours.

your head whips to her in surprise, eyes wide and curious.

she thumbs at your pulse point, some of her confidence regaining through feeling how it spikes. but, still, there's an undercurrent of discomfort, so she tries to steady her voice before saying, "you know, I have a pretty good shoulder too."

you laugh, ducking your head down. sevika tries not to pull you in closer, coax you to look at her when she talks. "yes, I'm sure you do," you respond, a sarcastic lilt to your voice.

"well, obviously. you're always checking me out when I work out."

you splutter, eyebrows scrunched indignantly. "well, that's because you insist on working out in front of us always! for all I know, maybe you're the one who's into someone in our group."

your voice is mocking, but sevika hears the tremors of it towards the end. are you nervous that she maybe is into someone else but you? or are you hopeful it's you?

you gave her a bit of assurance, so she might as well return the favour.

"maybe there is someone I'm trying to impress. someone who'd maybe notice that more if they weren't always shoving their face in other people's chests."

she can see how your eyes bulge at the semi-confession, your palm slick with sweat in her hand. your mouth flaps open for a few seconds, before shakily saying, "well, you did offer yourself up as a substitute."

her cheeks ache with how hard she's trying not to grin too widely. "don't get too excited."

you wring your hand from her grip, smiling coyly as you reach for her doorknob. "I'll try to contain myself."

[little-jana]

"Good Girl"

Pairing: postprison!Spencer Reid x reader

Genre: steamy, 18+, fluff, no smut

Warnings: kissing, Spencer calling reader a good girl

Words: 3.4k

Summary: Spencer giving Reader a lot of compliments and one of them makes her blush a lot.

Spencer had been different since prison. Not entirely in ways the team would notice—he still rattled off statistics, quoted obscure literature, and beat everyone at chess. But when you’d known someone as deeply as I knew Spencer, even subtle shifts felt monumental. He was sharper now, his edges honed by experiences no one should have endured. But when it was just the two of us, in those quiet, stolen moments, he softened.

That’s why I stayed by his side tonight instead of joining the team for drinks. Spencer had waved off the invitation, saying he needed a quiet night, and when I hesitated to leave him alone, he’d asked me to stay. It wasn’t much—a shared meal and a chess game in his small apartment—but to me, it felt like everything.

“I can’t tell if you’re planning your next move or plotting my demise,” Spencer said, leaning back in his chair as he watched me.

“I can do both,” I said lightly, though the truth was, I’d been staring at the board for so long because I had no idea what to do.

He smirked, tilting his head slightly. “You’re stalling.”

“I’m thinking,” I corrected.

“You’ve been ‘thinking’ for six minutes and thirty-two seconds.”

“Are you timing me?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No, but I glanced at the clock when you stopped moving your hand after your last turn.”

“Of course you did,” I muttered, my eyes flicking back to the board. “Not all of us have an IQ of 187, you know.”

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. The soft light from the lamp behind him highlighted the sharp planes of his face, and for a second, I forgot what we were talking about.

“You’re better than you think,” he said, his voice low.

“Better at chess, or better in general?” I quipped, trying to deflect the heat rising in my cheeks.

Spencer didn’t answer right away. Instead, he studied me, his hazel eyes unblinking and intent.

“Both,” he said simply.

My heart skipped a beat, but I forced myself to focus. This was just Spencer being Spencer—kind and honest to a fault. It didn’t mean anything. Not really.

Finally, I made a move, sliding my bishop into place. I looked up at him triumphantly. “Your turn, genius.”

Spencer’s eyes flicked to the board, and he moved his queen with a casual grace that made my stomach sink. “Checkmate,” he said softly.

“What?” I leaned forward, scanning the board. He was right. Of course he was right.

“How?” I groaned, sitting back in my chair. “I was so careful!”

“That was a good game,” he said, his tone genuine. “You lasted longer than usual.”

I rolled my eyes. “Gee, thanks.”

“No, really,” he insisted. “Your defense has improved. That last move was smart.”

“Then how did I still lose?”

His lips quirked into a smile. “Because I’ve been playing chess since I was four, and you’ve only been playing for—”

“Three months,” I finished for him.

“Exactly,” he said, his smile widening. “But you’re learning fast. Good girl.”

The words hit me like a freight train. My cheeks burned, and I ducked my head, pretending to fiddle with the edge of the table.

“Something wrong?” Spencer asked, his voice tinged with concern.

“No,” I said quickly, my voice higher than usual. “I’m fine.”

“You’re blushing,” he observed, tilting his head.

“I’m not,” I lied, even though I could feel the heat spreading down my neck.

His lips twitched, like he was fighting a smile. “You’re a terrible liar.”

“I’m not lying,” I said weakly, avoiding his gaze.

“Hmm,” he hummed, his tone teasing now.

Desperate to change the subject, I stood and grabbed the empty takeout containers from the coffee table. “I’m going to clean this up.”

Spencer followed me into the kitchen, leaning against the counter as I tossed the containers into the trash. His presence was a tangible thing, and I could feel his eyes on me as I wiped down the counter.

“Good,” he said softly.

I turned to face him, confused. “Good what?”

“Good technique,” he said, nodding toward the counter.

My cheeks flamed again. “Are you just saying that to mess with me?”

“No,” he said, his expression softening. “I mean it. You’re good at a lot of things, but you never give yourself credit.”

I swallowed hard, my heart pounding in my chest. “I think you’re overestimating me,” I said quietly.

Spencer stepped closer, his gaze never leaving mine. “No, I’m not,” he said firmly. “You’re smart, capable, and one of the kindest people I’ve ever met. You’re… amazing.”

My breath caught in my throat. The sincerity in his voice, the intensity in his eyes—it was overwhelming.

“Spencer…” I trailed off, unsure of what to say.

He reached out, his fingers brushing against mine. The touch was so gentle, so careful, it made my chest ache. “You don’t believe me, do you?”

I shook my head slightly. “It’s not that… I just don’t see myself the way you do.”

His brows furrowed, and he tilted his head slightly. “You should. Because I’m not wrong.”

The silence between us stretched, thick with unspoken words. I felt like I was standing on the edge of something, and for once, I wasn’t afraid to fall.

“You’re doing it again,” he said softly.

“Doing what?”

“Doubting yourself,” he said, his voice laced with a quiet kind of sadness.

I opened my mouth to argue, but the look on his face stopped me.

“You’re a good girl,” he said, his voice low and steady. “You just don’t know it yet.”

My cheeks burned, and I looked down, unable to meet his gaze.

“Hey,” he said gently, tilting my chin up with his finger. “Don’t hide from me.”

“I’m not hiding,” I whispered, though the words felt hollow.

“Yes, you are,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “And you don’t have to.”

Before I could overthink it, I stepped closer, closing the small distance between us. “Spencer…”

“Yes?”

I hesitated, my heart hammering in my chest. But then his eyes softened, and I knew. I knew he would catch me if I fell.

“I want to kiss you,” I said, my voice barely audible.

Spencer's lips curved into a small, surprised smile. “You do?”

I nodded, my cheeks flaming. “Is that… okay?”

His eyes softened, a mixture of surprise and something deeper—something that made my heart race. “It’s more than okay,” he said quietly.

I barely had time to process his words before his hand cupped my cheek, his fingers feather-light against my skin. He was so close now, his breath warm against my lips. For a moment, we just stood there, suspended in time.

And then he kissed me.

The world fell away.

It started soft, tentative—like he was afraid I’d disappear if he moved too quickly. His lips brushed against mine once, twice, each touch careful and reverent. It was everything I hadn’t dared to hope for: tender, consuming, perfect.

But then I leaned in, my fingers clutching at the front of his cardigan, and something shifted. The kiss deepened, and Spencer’s hand slid from my cheek to the back of my neck, pulling me closer. His other hand rested lightly on my waist, steadying me as my knees threatened to give out beneath me.

The softness gave way to something bolder, more urgent. His lips moved against mine with a fervor that left me breathless, and I couldn’t stop the small gasp that escaped me. Spencer stilled for a fraction of a second, as if startled by the sound, but then his grip tightened ever so slightly, and I was lost all over again.

He tasted like peppermint tea and something uniquely Spencer, and I never wanted it to end.

When we finally pulled apart, I was dizzy, my head spinning in the best way possible. Spencer rested his forehead against mine, his breath coming in short, uneven bursts.

“That was…” He trailed off, his voice unsteady.

“Amazing,” I finished for him, my voice barely above a whisper.

He chuckled softly, the sound warm and intimate in the quiet of his apartment. “Yeah. Amazing.”

My cheeks flushed, but this time it wasn’t from embarrassment—it was from the way he was looking at me, like I was the only thing in the world that mattered.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” he admitted, his voice low.

“Really?” I asked, my heart swelling at the thought.

He nodded, a small, shy smile playing at his lips. “But I didn’t think you felt the same way.”

“Spencer,” I said, shaking my head with a soft laugh. “How could I not? You’re… you.”

His brow furrowed slightly, like he was trying to puzzle out my words. “I’m not always good at recognizing when people care about me,” he said quietly.

“Well, I care,” I said firmly, my hand still clutching the front of his cardigan. “A lot.”

He smiled then, a real, unguarded smile that made my chest ache in the best way. “I care about you too,” he said softly.

For a moment, neither of us spoke. The air between us was thick with unspoken promises, the kind that didn’t need words to be understood.

Spencer’s hand slid from my waist to my hand, his fingers curling around mine. “You’re incredible, you know that?”

I looked away, flustered. “You’re just saying that.”

“I’m not,” he said, tugging me closer. “You’re smart, kind, and strong. And you’re a good girl.”

There it was again, the phrase that sent my heart into overdrive. My cheeks burned, and I bit my lip, trying to suppress the shy smile threatening to break free.

“You really like saying that, don’t you?” I teased, though my voice came out softer than I intended.

“Only because it’s true,” he said, his thumb brushing over my knuckles.

The sincerity in his voice, the way he was looking at me—I couldn’t take it. I hid my face in his chest, my fingers curling into the fabric of his cardigan.

“You’re impossible,” I mumbled against him, though my tone lacked any real heat.

“And you’re adorable when you’re flustered,” he replied, his voice filled with gentle amusement.

I tilted my head up to look at him, narrowing my eyes in mock indignation. “You’re lucky I like you.”

His smile widened, and he leaned down to press a soft kiss to my forehead. “I’m the lucky one.”

---

After we settled onto the couch, Spencer pulled a blanket over us, his arm draped around my shoulders as I rested my head against his chest. The quiet hum of the world outside seemed so far away, replaced by the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

“Spencer?” I asked softly, my voice breaking the comfortable silence.

“Hmm?”

“This is real, right?” I tilted my head to look up at him, my eyes searching his face for any hint of hesitation.

He glanced down at me, his brows furrowing slightly. “Of course it’s real. Why would you think it’s not?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted, my cheeks flushing. “It just feels… too good to be true.”

Spencer’s hand came up to cradle my face, his thumb brushing lightly over my cheek. “It’s real,” he said firmly. “I’m real. And I’m not going anywhere.”

Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, but I blinked them away, focusing instead on the warmth in his gaze. “Promise?”

“I promise,” he said softly, pressing another kiss to my forehead.

And in that moment, with his arms around me and his words echoing in my heart, I believed him.

[xhyjin]

thinking about nanami kento! (when am i not) with a s/o that is socially awkward/shy

he knew from the start that you were distant. during work parties, you never showed up, only clocking in to work and leaving once your duties were done, never lingering to chat or mingle. the rare times you did attend, you stayed in the corners, quietly observing with wide, nervous eyes and a faint blush coloring your cheeks. he couldn’t help but be intrigued, and one day, curiosity got the better of him. he approached you. your words stuttered, your face burned red, but there was something about the way you responded that made him instantly drawn to you. from that moment, you became his reason to look forward to work every day.

he began to notice the little things about you. how you stayed tucked away in your cubicle, only speaking to coworkers when necessary. how you spent your lunch breaks alone, either watching a show on your phone or quietly eating, lost in your own thoughts. and how, at the end of the day, he’d sometimes catch you smiling to yourself in the elevator, as though you’d found happiness in the smallest of things. it fascinated him how content you seemed in your own world, and after weeks of silently admiring you, he finally decided to approach you properly.

but he was careful—patient. he knew you were shy and reserved, so he didn’t want to overwhelm you. he started small, spending lunch breaks with you. at first, the silence between you both was awkward, though not unwelcome. you blushed furiously at the attention but didn’t push him away. instead, you quietly shared bits of your lunch with him, a subtle gesture that said, i’m glad you’re here. he knew you struggled with words, so he didn’t press. instead, he let his presence speak for itself, slowly building a bridge of comfort between the two of you.

when kento finally worked up the courage to ask you out, making it clear that this wasn’t just work-related but a date; you could hardly believe it. your eyes widened, and then you nodded eagerly, your happiness shining through. his heart swelled at your reaction. he had planned a simple outing, maybe a cafe, but seeing your excitement, he wanted to make it special. he made reservations at a nice restaurant, ensuring you’d have a secluded spot to enjoy your time without pressure.

the date started just as he expected. you were quiet, your voice barely above a whisper when you responded to him, sticking mostly to “yes” or “no” answers. but kento was nothing if not patient. he asked small, simple questions, easing you into a conversation, and when he mentioned something you loved, your entire demeanor changed. your eyes lit up, your voice grew stronger, and you started talking more, rambling on about your interests. you didn’t even realize how much you’d been speaking until the waitress interrupted to take your order. your face turned crimson as you sulked in embarrassment, worried you’d talked too much. but when you glanced at kento, his gaze was soft, a gentle smile on his lips, he looked utterly captivated.

ordering was its own challenge. you felt embarrassed, too shy to tell the waitress what you wanted. kento noticed your hesitation and, with a subtle nudge of his foot under the table, gave you something to focus on. you nudged him back, and it was enough to calm your nerves, allowing you to place your order. he was thoughtful like that, always finding quiet ways to make you feel at ease.

by the end of the date, you’d grown comfortable enough to start asking him questions. the two of you talked for so long that you didn’t notice the restaurant had emptied. when you finally left, the night felt far from over. kento drove you to the beach, where the two of you walked hand in hand along the shore. the sound of the waves filled the comfortable silence between you, and when you stopped to look at the moonlight reflecting on the water, he turned to you and asked, “may i kiss you?”

your heart raced, but you nodded, and when he kissed you, it was as if you were something fragile, precious. he didn’t want to rush you or make you uncomfortable, but under the glow of the moon, he couldn’t resist the beauty of the moment—or of you.

after that, the two of you continued to grow closer, going on more dates and eventually making it official. over time, you began to come out of your shell, though you still retained your social awkwardness. kento loved every part of you, from the way you stumbled over your words to the way you blushed under his gaze. to him, you were perfect exactly as you were, and he made sure you always knew it.

[impsandstars]

Communication through dance

One of my absolute favorite tropes is when some form of dancing is involved between the main characters.

Moments where one of the main characters has to watch their love interest dance with someone else (looking at you Apology Tour).

Moments where the main characters dance but they are currently on rocky ground, unsure of where they stand with the other person (looking at you Sinsmas).

Dancing is one of those socially acceptable forms of prolonged touch that always create great moments of revelations or moments of connection; newfound potential or reaffirming something that has been there all along.

The scene of them dancing at the end of Sinsmas is much more than just their verbal exchanges. First and foremost the fact that Blitz asked Stolas to dance at all instead of going back inside (even when Stolas was like it’s okay, I’m good, go enjoy the holiday) says a lot. Blitz cares about him so much, wants him to be happy even though he knows life is a dumpster fire for him right now. And maybe he is also making up for the fact that he didn't get to dance with Stolas at Verosika's party (and saw Stolas react as if he had never been asked before). It's a relatively safe way to show his affection for Stolas without it being taken as too intimate or sexual. Stolas could back down if he wanted to, say no thank you, which allows him to have some agency.

Then we get to the actual dancing. It’s not just swaying back and forth, head on shoulders so they can’t see each others faces. They are moving as if they have done this dance before. Seamlessly changing hands, twirling, steps fluid (Blitz doesn’t even once miss his footing on the thin railing) and staring right into each others eyes.

They fall back into a routine, semi-flirting, touching and holding each other because they are familiar with the others body and how it moves.

And the dip! Stolas laughing! His little leg lift!! It was a moment of connection for them, soft, transcending them to a moment where all their worries have been swept aside and they just have each other. A subtle reminder of the way they were before, of the ease with which they work together.

Then, THEN, we get to the end, breathing slightly elevated, eyes widening and staring at each other lips (this is my favorite moment of any dancing trope, the realization that 'woah now, there is something here; I can’t stop gazing deeply into your eyes'). They both realize at the same moment that that spark between them hasn't fizzled out just yet. The potential for more is still there.

But Blitz, my beautiful lizard man, knows that he needs to take this slow, that jumping into anything more right now is moving too fast. There is still so much that needs to be figured out and healed. So he ends their dance with a hug. Comfort and love. Ugh these two.

And all of it is done under the warm glow of a full moon. (Or is that the portal to heaven?) Either way it’s implied that they are dancing under the full moon. And of course the lyrics (Sam Haft I see you) "truer love is hard to find".

[imtryingbuck]

My Saviour

~ gif not mine credit to owner ~

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Summary: Buckys just received some news from the love of his life.

Word count: 6,269

Warnings: angst. fluff. suicidal thoughts. Bucky’s past mentioned. insecurities. scars mentioned. Bucky being madly in love. reader being an angel. past cheating and domestic abuse. pregnancy (it’s me im sorry) me not knowing anything about courts/sentencing.

Translation: ты мой спаситель - you’re my saviour (if wrong take it up with google translation)

Masterlist

Bucky wished Steve was still around so he could talk to him about things. He wish that his best friend was still there to see the progress he was slowly making. Wished to know if his best friend was proud of him.

But most importantly he wished Steve chose to stay with him and Sam so he could have met the person who brought him back to life, who brought his long existence actual meaning other than jumping from fight to fight. He knew Steve would have loved her and probably would have thanked her for everything.

But sadly Steve went to live a different life without him so he had to deal with Sam all alone.

For a year after Steve left Bucky struggled to go out, he struggled to find his path in a world that he wasn’t suppose to be apart of. He should have died that day when he fell from the train.

His therapist tried to get him to go out into the world and meet people, Bucky would say ‘next time’ until Dr Raynor eventually gave up on trying.

For a whole year Bucky moved with the motion, just existing, alive and breathing but just barely holding on to that invisible thread.

That was until six years ago. Six years ago everything changed.

** six years ago **

“Buck please-“

“Don’t call me that! How many times do I have to tell you”

“Oh I’m sorry Sir Bucky! But like I said please just come with me? It would do you some good to get out of your apartment, wait Bucky are you even listening to me?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m listening. I do get out-“

“To see your therapist and that’s it”

“I’m still going out aren’t I?” Bucky responds snappily, rolling his eyes as Sam groans through the speaker.

“Please Bucky, it’s just coffee!”

“God sake, okay. I’ll be there. Bye” He really didn’t want to go out and get a coffee with Sam but he ended agreeing knowing that he would not have stopped, probably even going as far as coming to his apartment just to drag him out of there. Since Steve left, poor Bucky had been left all alone on with Sam, okay it wasn’t as bad as he made it out to be but still he had been left with a man that annoyed him more than anything.

Groaning inwardly he slides his phone into his jeans front pocket before shoving his gloved hands into the pockets of his leather jacket, as he walked down the street he kept his head down so he didn’t make eye contact with anyone walking by. It was safer that way. For him and those around him.

“James Barnes” he spoke roughly to the receptionist who made a habit of always pushing her chest out so he could get an eye full of her cleavage.

“Take a seat” she responds batting her eyelashes with her chest pushed out. He thought after the tenth time of him rolling his eyes at her not so subtle attempt at flirting she would get the hint.

He was not interested.

“S-sorry is this seat taken?” A soft timid voice from a woman pulled Bucky out of his staring competition he was having with the fake plant by the water dispenser.

“Huh?”

“Is-is anyone sitting here?”

“No. No you can sit”

“T-thank you” Bucky smiled and nodded softly instantly curious as to why she was also seeing a therapist. Bucky found himself getting lost in the smell of her perfume, the sweet smell creeping up his nostrils and into his senses. His eyes focused on the slow motion of her leg closest to his bouncing in time with the ticking of the clock.

“S-sir?”

“Huh? Yeah?”

“A-are you um are you J-James Barnes?”

Great just great. She knows who he is and from the way she stutters his name she clearly knows what he’s done and is scared of him. “Yes that’s me” he finally answers.

“Y-your names b-been called sir” she points over to where the receptionist is and sees her waiting for him to follow her down the hallway to Dr Raynors office.

Oh. Oh okay he got it wrong. “Oh, thank you”

“Y-your welcome sir”

Bucky offers her a small smile that she responds with the same and follows Lila down the corridor. He has no idea that the small smile he gave her meant a great deal to her. Nor does he know that she talks about him to her therapist that was two doors down from his.

Neither one realises that one small smile would make such a massive impact on their lives.

Over the course of four months, twice a week Bucky would see the woman whose name he had yet to know, every time they sat patiently in the waiting room they would find themselves sitting next to each other. Always quietly asking if the seat next to them was taken. Even if there were other available seats.

Dr Raynor had quite enjoyed hearing about the woman who seemed to have taken residence in Bucky’s mind. And Dr Harlow was proud of hearing that her patient was seeing someone new. She laughed when her patient blushed and began stumbling over her words that she was not seeing this man in that sense.

Bucky walked in to the waiting room expecting to find the woman whose presence he had become content being around only to frown at seeing the two seats that became unofficially theirs empty. The whole time he waited for her but she never showed. His name was called, as he followed Lila he kept turning his head back to the double doors in hopes that he would catch a glimpse of her. Walking into the room he frowned at seeing Dr Raynor and another woman sitting down. This was new.

“James, this is Dr Harlow.”

“Hi?”

“Hello James”

“What’s wrong? I didn’t do-“

“No, no James it’s… well you know the woman you’ve been telling me about?” Raynor cuts him off and waits for him to nod “well Dr Harlow is her therapist, Y/n was rushed in to the hospital early hours this morning-“

“Y/n? That’s her name? Wait… what happened to her? Is she okay? Where is-“

“James, she’s okay. We can’t disclose anything about what happened but-well you see Y/n has been talking about you in her sessions, nothing bad don’t worry, and you’ve been talking about her so we agreed that we should let you know”

Bucky sat there staring at his doctor as his mind raced with questions. She was in the hospital? Her name suited her perfectly. Why was she in the hospital? Who hurt her? She talked about him? ‘Nothing bad’ the good doctor stressed. Is she okay? “James?”

“Yeah erm, are you sure she’s okay?”

“Yes. We, well we talked to each other” Raynor points at between herself and Dr Harlow “and we think it would be a great opportunity for you to talk to her, maybe offer her some support-“

“Why me? Aren’t you two the therapists?”

“Yes we are but James I don’t think you realise how much those smiles and a few quiet words mean to Y/n. Nor she with you, now in my opinion I think it would be nice if the pair of you had someone to lean on when you don’t have a session.”

Thinking it over for a few minutes he nodded and agreed. Dr Harlow said Y/n had mentioned that she felt safe with him which made his heart race faster than usual at hearing that a complete stranger felt safe around him when he was so use to it being different. No one felt safe around him, hell he didn’t even feel safe with himself but yet she did. Not even ten seconds after the door closed behind Dr Harlow did Bucky start questioning his doctor about what had happened or where she was so he could go and see her, he just wanted to make sure she was fine but Raynor held strong and didn’t back down from the harsh glare he was sending towards her. She never did though to be honest.

Ten minutes later Dr Raynor thought it was best to cut their session short, though promised him that she would make out that they did the full hour.

Two weeks. Two whole weeks it had been since he was told that she was in the hospital and he hadn’t seen her. That day he thought it wouldn’t be any different to the other days where he expected to see her, until he turned his back on Lila who thankfully now took the hint that he wasn’t interested in her. His eyes squinted at seeing someone sitting in their seats.

“Is this seat taken?” He asked quietly, hoping that the woman in front of him would raise her head and smile as she said ‘no you can sit’. And when she did. Well… let’s just say that what he wanted to do to whoever had caused such pain and suffering to his Y/n he wouldn’t have pinned it on the Winter Soldier. No because Bucky Barnes would have happily admitted to shedding blood that wasn’t his own. Happily and proudly.

“N-no you can sit” she responds with that smile he sees when he closes his eyes at night.

“Doll-“ Lila cuts him off by calling his name signalling that it was his time, he nods at her then faces Y/n. “After your session I’m going to be waiting right here okay, and I want to take you for a coffee.”

“O-okay” Y/n says with a shy smile. Bucky smiles back before going up to Lila, eyebrows burrowing when she doesn’t lead him down the corridor. And that’s when it finally hits him. He had never seen her doing that to any of the other patients.

He tells Dr Raynor that Y/n was back, told her the bruises that littered her beautiful face, told her what he had said to her and her response. “Go easy on her James, don’t try and rush her into telling you all of her secrets okay” but in the same breath suggests a nice place for him to take her.

Forty five minutes after his appointment had ended he was now sat a cross the table from Y/n with a black coffee in front of him and a hot chocolate in front of her.

“You know what I’m going to ask you don’t you?” He says with a gentle smile, she nods. “Are you okay?”

“I-I’m fi-fine now sir”

“Bucky, call me Bucky. How long was you in the hospital for?”

“A few d-days, Dr Harlow told me that she told you what happened”

“Not exactly they just said that you was in the hospital, wanted me to know since you talk about me all the time” winking at her when she blushed.

“I-I d-don’t”

“All the time they said, said that your obsessed with me”

“Well y-you talk a-about me too!”

“Me? Never!” Bucky was ninety nine point nine percent sure that he had died right there and then and went to heaven when she laughed. He was sure of it. Her laugh could only described as angelic. God he wanted to hear it again and again until he dying breath.

“I-it was my ex” she whispered. She wasn’t stupid she knew what he wanted to ask.

“Where is he now?”

“Jail still, h-have to go court in-in two weeks. My lawyer said h-he’ll be going to prison for a long time, he broke the protection order an-and well this” she said gesturing to her face.

“You had a protection order against him?”

“Yes, throughout our relationship he was abusive the o-only way I managed to get out was because he had been cheating on me with a friend of mine, he left me a-and I was so happy because it meant that I didn’t have to suffer no more but the friend didn’t want him anymore because the fun of sneaking around had gone”. Taking a deep breath before sipping on her hot chocolate she continued. “He broke into my apartment and attacked me because I said no to taking him back, police was called by my neighbour and I got the restraining order against him because I could do that then, he went to prison and h-he got out three weeks ago, he broke into my apartment again and did this b-but the police arrived quickly as I already rang them”

“Doll… I’m so sorry”

“It’s okay. I’m okay now”

“It’s not okay Y/n”

“It is what it is, he’ll be going to prison for a long time and I’ll be able to live my life again.” She smiled.

“W-when is it that you have to go to court?”

“In two weeks, why?”

“Can I come with you? To offer my support” With her lack of response he knew he overstepped. Of course she isn’t going to want the former Winter Soldier to come with her to face another monster in her life. He’s about to apologise until she smiles once more and nods.

“I would really like that. Thank you Bucky” Bucky smiled and nodded.

Their second cup of hot drinks had slowly grown cold as the conversation flowed effortlessly between the pair. Bucky loved the way she no longer stuttered or stumbled over her words the longer they spoke. She was about to say something when a bang from the window startled the pair of them.

“Great.” He muttered.

“D-do you know him?”

“Who the crazy guy with his face squashed up against the window? Unfortunately” Y/n giggled at his words then looked at the man who did in fact have his face squashed up against the window, his eyes moving back and forth between herself and Bucky. Waving shyly at the man who waved excitedly back Bucky rolled his eyes. “You do realise you’ve just basically invited him in, don’t you? Oh see now he’s entering.”

“Stop being mean”

“Didn’t expect to see you here Barnes. Hi I’m Sam, Bucky’s best friend in the whole world”

“Hi Sam, I’m Y/n” she shakes his hand and smiles at Bucky who sits there rolling his eyes for the umpteenth time.

“Scoot over then Bucky. So how did you two meet?”

Bucky looked at Y/n to see if she was comfortable with letting him know, she just smiled. “We met in therapy”

“Oh, are you a therapist?”

“No, no I’m a patient”

“Does it help?”

“Sam!”

“What? I’m just asking”

Giggling at the two men “it’s fine Bucky, it has been helping. My therapist is really nice and understanding”

“That’s great. So did you two meet from group therapy or?”

“No we actually sat next to each other in the waiting room”

“Aw that’s so cute!” Sam winks at her whilst Bucky grumbled under his breath.

Sam ends up convincing Bucky and Y/n in getting something to eat not that he puts up to much of a fight as both of them were hungry themselves. Once again conversation flows effortlessly, even Bucky joined in with the laughter.

After food was eaten and an argument between the three about who was going to pay - Y/n winning when the two men were still arguing over the bill - they walked her all the way to her apartment. Bucky’s heart clenched painfully seeing her front door with dried blood on it. Sam noticed too and smiled sadly at his friend.

Two whole weeks passed, in those two weeks Sam kept “bumping” into the pair, the three of them would walk around talking about their lives, both of the men noticing that she was very vague about her life but neither one pushed her into saying more.

Today was the day where Y/n was going to court, as she stood outside she checked her watch worrying that Bucky wasn’t going to show up, not like he needed to he didn’t owe her anything anyway. She turned around to head up the many steps when her names called, turning she sees Bucky running over towards her. Sam following closely behind.

“Hey, hi, sorry we’re late I tried to shake this one off but he’s persist-“

“No it’s okay, I-I really appreciate the pair of you coming today. It means so much”

“You’re welcome sunshine, you’ve got our support” Sam smiles wrapping his arms around her squeezing slightly.

“Y/n? We need to go in” her lawyer says from the large brown double doors.

Sam nods to the pair and heads up the steps, Bucky smiled “me and Sam are here for you, it’s going to be okay”

“I’m scared about seeing him again b-but I-I can do it” Bucky’s hand reached out to hers that shook.

“I’ve got you, I promise”

“T-th-thank you Bucky”

Hand in hand they head up to where Sam was waiting patiently and followed the lawyers lead into the courtroom. Bucky’s knee wouldn’t stop bouncing from anger as Y/n bravely stood in the witness stand and gave her statement, hearing all the things that the bastard did to her made him want to attack him. Sam knew what was going through his friends head, honestly? He wasn’t going to be far behind him.

Three hours later her ex received a ten year sentence. Bucky watched as her body relaxes by hearing the judges words. He and Sam smiles at her when she turns around, her eyes moving along the rows to find where they sat, smiling as soon as she lands on them.

After leaving the courthouse Bucky took her hand in his again and the three of them went to the restaurant that Sam had suggested, in a way to celebrate Y/n’s new found freedom. Neither one of the men mentioned about what they heard or the photos they saw in the courtroom, other than telling her that they were proud of her bravery.

Six months had passed before any of them had realised, both of the therapists were proud of seeing completely different people sitting in front of them in their sessions. Bucky opened up more and so did Y/n, not only to their therapists but to each other.

The knock on the door pulled Bucky away from his bickering with Sam as his friend argued that pineapple on pizza was nice. “I’ll ask Y/n and see what she says! Hey doll”

“Hey, sorry I’m late”

“You’re not, don’t worry. Hey does pineapple belong on pizza?” He asked taking her coat and hanging it up on the hook.

“I’ve tried it and I like it” she waves to Sam.

“See! Sam I told you it was nice”

“But you said-“

“Shut up. Sam said that it was wrong but I said it was nice”

“No yo-“

“So how was your day?” Sam looked at Y/n mouthing ‘he’s lying’ making her giggle, she goes on to tell them all about her day which had Bucky hanging on to every word she spoke.

Halfway through the film Sam had picked Y/n went to the bathroom, Bucky eyed Sam curiously as the latter was sitting there grinning at him. “What?”

“Whens the wedding?”

“What wedding?”

“Yours and Y/ns”

“We’re not getting married? Why are you smiling like that?”

“If you say so, hey when are you going to tell her you love her?”

Choking on his beer Bucky shook his head “I don’t love her Sam”

“Okay, how about you telling her that you’re in love with her?”

“Sam shut up.”

“Nope. So when are you going to tell her?”

“I’m not going too alright. It’s just-it doesn’t matter alright just drop it”

“Drop what?” Y/n asked walking back into the living room.

“Pineapple being on pizza” Bucky says quickly his eyes going wide looking at Sam.

Laughing she shakes her head sitting back down next to Bucky “we’re not having this argument anymore boys”

“Try telling him that Y/n/n” now it’s Bucky’s turn to have a grin on his lips as Sam’s eyes squint at the pair.

“Sunshine has Bucky told you yet?”

“Told me what?”

“That he loves y-“

“Yogurts.”

“You… love yogurts?” She asked him with her eyebrow raised, Sam struggles to contain his laughter seeing Bucky become a stuttering mess.

“Yes… I love yogurts, problem?”

“Nope no problem here” If Y/n wasn’t snuggling into his left side Bucky would have throttled Sam.

The knock on her door startled her from the tv screen in front of her - it didn’t help that she was watching a horror and that a jump scare was about to happen when the knock came.

“Bucky? Hey, are you okay?”

“I-I was just in the neigh-neighbourhood a-and I thought that I’d st-stop by”

“Yeah come in, James is everything alright?”

“Yeah, w-why?”

“It’s just that you’re stuttering… and I’m just worried that’s all”

“S-someone said something about me, it-it wasn’t good” he admitted twisting the bottle cap from the water bottle she had gave him.

“What did they say?”

“It doesn’t matter, I-I just wanted to see you-you know because I was in the neighbourhood”

The truth was he wasn’t, he had finally listened to Dr Raynors advice and go out. His plan was to go down the corner store to get some essentials in. Get in, get out that was easy and simple. He could do it. Until he heard two men who were talking clearly and loudly about him their conversation attracting the attention of others passing by them. And that’s when he realised his second mistake that day, the first mistake being to agree to go out, the second being that he forgot his gloves. The comments were harsh and unkind.

His first response was to put his head down shoving his hands into his pockets and walk all the way to Y/n’s apartment. Even if it was a forty minute walk.

Bucky needed to see her, he didn’t care if they sat in silence just as long as he was with her, he didn’t care if she forced him to watch that terrible tv show.

“Come on let’s watch something and have cuddles”

He was safe with her. Calmer. Happier. More comfortable and relaxed.

“Have you asked her?”

“No Samuel I haven’t”

“Why?”

“Because I haven’t seen her today”

“Why?”

“Because she had her session with Dr Harlow”

“Why?”

“Sam, I’m going to punch you in the face”

“Wh-“

Bucky rolled his eyes and put the phone call down. He couldn’t bear to hear why one more time. He was too busy going over what he was going to ask Y/n, so many things could go wrong she could say no, it would be weird as they’ve only known each other for a year now. She’s going to say no. Of course she is. He can’t ask, he just ca-

“Buck? Open up my arms hurt”

Buck. Buck, the name Sam was not happy about hearing slipping out of her mouth. He had tried years to call him that but always got shot down. It wasn’t fair.

“Buck? Shit are you not in?”

“No! No I’m in doll, hi, hello, hi”

“Hi, hello, hi to you too” Bucky laughs taking the bags off her arms carefully, then takes them into the kitchen. A month ago Y/n moved in to his apartment with him after the landlord put up the rent making her struggle to keep paying the higher rent, Bucky caught her looking for a new place to live when he suggested her living with him, she first denied but Bucky swore and promised that he was more than happy to let her stay with him, she ended up agreeing, Bucky could have cried with happiness all night but managed to contain himself.

“Did you get everything?”

“Nope, forgot absolutely everything you asked for” sticking her tongue out at him, he laughed.

God he loves her weirdness.

“So I- god sake Sam, hold on pretty girl. What now Sam? No I haven’t. Because she’s just walked in. You’re so needy do you know that? Okay I’ll ask now. Yes I’ll do it whilst you’re on the phone. Y/n, do you want to come to Louisiana with Sam and I?”

“Really?”

“Yeah, we’re going for a week to see his sister and nephews and we want you to come too”

“Will his sister mind me being there?”

“No. So?”

“Are you guys really sure?”

“Absolutely”

“O-okay, that would be nice”

His smile doesn’t just take up his face but Sam’s as well “good, good. Did you hear Sam? Okay see you later” chucking his phone on to the counter he turns back to Y/n. “We leave tomorrow”

“Tomorrow? Oh god okay, I’ll go and pack now”

Two days later they arrive in Louisiana after both men took it in turns to drive, it was long and tiring for them but Y/n loved it. She had never been out of New York before so she was taking in the sights. When Bucky wasn’t driving he would watch her from his seat, seeing her face lit up made his heart tingle.

“Are you sure she won’t mind me being here?”

“I promise, she’s excited to meet you” Sam reassures her as he pulls up the gravelled driveway.

Greeting his sister and nephews, Bucky doing the same Sarah turned her attention to Y/n instantly engulfing her in a warm embrace. “It’s so nice to finally meet you”

“You too” she smiled softly.

Later that night after putting their things away they all sat outside watching as the sun started to set, Sam was manning the grill and Bucky were chasing the two boys around making them squeal with laughter and excitement. Sarah and Y/n were talking when Sarah asked the woman sitting in front of her something that made her choke and splutter on her drink.

“W-we aren’t to-together”

“Are you sure? The way he looks at you makes me think differently”

“No, no we’re just friends. Plus he wouldn’t like me so”

“Do you like him?”

“I-yes. But I would rather have him as my friend than not have him in my life”

“Tell him how you feel”

“No I can’t do that!”

“You can”

“No I can’t”

“Can’t what?” Bucky’s voice comes from behind her. Sarah has to stifle her laughter as Y/ns eyes went as wide as saucers.

“I-erm nothing.”

“Okay? Hey there’s a crab down on the beach that the boys have found, want to come and see it?”

“O-okay” Bucky smiles and holds out his hand for her to take, helping her stand he keeps his hand in hers as they walk towards the two boys.

“Is she in love with him?”

“I think so, hopefully they’ll admit their feelings because they’re so cute together” Sarah says with her eyes trained on the two fading figures, Sam smirks before flipping the burgers.

Later that night Y/n got startled when she went into the bathroom seeing Bucky standing motionless in front of the mirror. “Shit! Bucky you scared- hey are you okay?”

“I-I’m fi-I’m not okay Y/n/n” Y/n moved so quickly wrapping her arms around him, both falling on the ground.

“It’s okay, it’s okay” the sobs wracked through his body making her body shake. She kept repeating those words like a mantra.

“M-my hair”

“Your hair? What about it?”

“I-I want it gone, please, please help me g-get rid of it”

Her heart broke at hearing him sounding so small, in the whole year of knowing him he had always sounded so strong, and confident. Also she loved his hair and they both knew it, on nights where they cuddled up together on the couch watching movies her fingers would always end up playing with the soft strands of hair.

“A-are you sure?” feeling him nodding against her chest “okay, let me find some scissors and a clipper and I’ll do it for you okay?” Trying to stand was difficult especially since having a super soldier clinging to her. “Buck, I need to stand”

Finding the scissors was easy, it was just finding the clippers she had a difficult time coming up on. Cheering silently in triumph when she discovered them in the fourth draw. “Should we go outside so we don’t wake everyone up?”

“O-okay. Leave the light on Cass is scared of the dark, Sarah leaves the bathroom light on for him” Bucky whispered wrapping both of his hands around her free one.

Outside with only the porch light illuminating them, Y/n started cutting his hair the shorter it got the more Bucky started to relax. When it came to trimming his hair Bucky’s left arm reached around to tug on her waist, bringing her around to stand in between his legs, he smiled shyly up at her. Without thinking she leaned down as she placed her lips to his forehead. His arms snaked around the back of her legs squeezing lightly.

“I-it’s done, maybe Sam can fix it up later if it’s bad?”

“I bet y-you did a good job”

“Would you be mad if I said you had a massive bald spot right on the top of your head?”

He laughed and shook his head “no I won’t be mad”

“It’s a good job that there isn’t one isn’t there?”

“Y/n, thank you, i-it means a lot to me. Thank you”

“You don’t need to thank me. D-do you want to talk about what happened?”

“It was a nightmare. Just about my past” leading her over to the hammock on that swayed ever so lightly from the night breeze. “T-they did bad things to me, made me do worse”

“I’m here if you want to talk about it” she says squeezing his hand.

“They made me kill people, even when I completed the mission to their satisfaction they would still punish me and I never knew why. The chair was the worst, I-I did what I was told to do and I was still punished.”

Looking at the water he breathed deeply, he was about to tell her something to no one else knew, not even his therapist. “I-I’ve wanted to end my life since coming back from Wakanda b-b-but not since I met you I swear!”

“Oh Buck”

“It was easier to end it you know? But I couldn’t do it, I needed to try and make up for all the damage I caused.”

“Bucky it was-“

“It was though, wasn’t it? It was me the whole time”

“It wasn’t. Bucky you wasn’t in control of your own mind, your a good man, an incredible man - don’t scoff at me mister - you are, if you don’t believe me think about Sarah, even though I don’t know her all that well she seems to have a good sense of judgement, do you really think that she would let you be around her babies if she thought you was a bad person?”

Thinking her words over he had to agree with her words about Sarah even Sam wouldn’t let him anywhere near his sister and his nephews. Hell Tony wouldn’t have allowed him near his wife or daughter if they believed he was the monster that he still believed he was. “Y-you’re right”

Now it was her turn to think over the words from Sarah earlier that night. It was most likely going to blow up in her face and she was going to lose him as a friend forever but maybe just maybe Sarah could be right. “I wouldn’t have fallen in love with you if you were a bad person Buck”

The silence that followed was killing her. She should have just kept her mouth shut.

He however couldn’t believe his ears. Surely she was playing a trick on him. There was no way this perfect angel as he always described her would ever feel the same way as him. Surely.

“I’m sorry Bucky, I-I’ll go n-“

He cuts her off by pressing his lips against hers. The kiss was soft, timid at first before they both gained their confidence their tongues dancing a slow dance together. Pulling away reluctantly Bucky leans his forehead against hers, both smiling widely at each other.

“I’m in love with you too” he whispered.

Nothing else was said. Nothing else was needed to be said.

Sam walks on to the porch with his hot cup of coffee that morning, his feet faltering when he sees Bucky and Y/n curled up together on the hammock fast asleep. Pulling his phone out he took a photo of the pair before running back into the house showing Sarah the photo.

As soon as they were back in New York Bucky asked Y/n out on a date, then another and another until he asked her to be his girlfriend. And soon enough she had moved into his room with him.

The first time she saw him topless was when he came out of the bathroom wearing grey joggers, he thought she was still in the living room. He heard the quiet gasp, he looked up to see her standing there and his stomach dropped.

“Y/n-“

“Your body… did the gods sculpt you? I-is that, two, four, six yep that’s an eight pack, how do you get an eight pack?”

Hearing her words he blushed with a little chuckle. “T-the scars-“

“Beautiful”

“Don’t lie to me”

“I would never lie to you Buck, everything about you is beautiful”

That night they made love for the first time, each of them taking their time in admiring the scars that littered their bodies. The second she pressed her lips delicately against the rough, raised patch where skin meets metal he honestly thought his heart was going to stop beating.

“ты мой спаситель, did you know that?” he whispered one night placing kisses on her bare shoulder.

“What does that mean?”

“ты мой спаситель?”

“Yeah”

“It means… your smelly”

“No it doesn’t” she laughs.

“No your right, it means you’re my saviour”

“Buck-“

“You are Y/n/n, you’ve saved me you’ve made me happier than I’ve ever been before a-and I know I wouldn’t still be here if it wasn’t for you”

“I’ll be with you until you want me to leave”

“So never” he laughed, pulling her body even closer to his. “I love you Y/n/n”

“I love you too Buck”

Bucky wished Steve was still around so he could talk to him about things. He wish that his best friend was still there so he could tell the blond about how nervous he was. He imagined Steve’s reaction as he fixed his tie for the ninth time within five minutes.

A year had passed, on their year anniversary Bucky got down on one knee and proposed, three months later he was standing in the spare bedroom of Sarah’s house in his suit as Sarah helped Y/n with her dress.

He really wished Steve was there to see him marrying his love.

A month before marrying both Sam and Bucky retired, both men tired of the bloodshed and nightmares. Sam told Bucky that he was going to move down to Louisiana, he even brought up a business proposal, Bucky had to admit it did sound tempting he promised Sam that he would run it by Y/n.

“Sam’s moving closer to Sarah, you know now that we’ve retired.”

“Oh, right”

“He erm he brought up a proposal to go into business together-“

“Did you say yes? Please tell me you said yes!”

“Why? Do you want to move to Louisiana?”

“Yes! I mean I knew Sam was going to move back there so I may or may not have been looking at houses down there…”

Sam cheered loudly down the phone when Bucky rang him to tell him that they were coming too.

“You ready Bucky?” Sam asked popping his head around the door.

“Yeah, yeah I’m ready”

Bucky faltered walking out of the house only expecting to see AJ, Cass and Roy - the man who was going to be marrying them - but yet all the people Y/n and himself had befriended over the two years they had been going to Louisiana, had showed up to watch them become one.

Being announced as husband and wife had their hearts doing a double take. They were married and neither one could believe it. And neither one could wipe the smile off their faces.

“ты мой спаситель… wait did I pronounce any of that right?” She panicked as they slow danced to the live music from a local band.

“Di-did you learn that just for me?”

“Yes” she giggled “so did I say it correctly?”

“Yes you did мой спаситель”

The celebration went on well into the night.

** present time **

“Buck?”

“Huh?”

“Did you just hear what I said?” Y/n looks up at him lightly nibbling on her bottom lip looking nervously.

Of course he had heard the words that came out of her mouth but those exact words made him think about how they met, and how far they both had come from being complete strangers who met in the waiting room of their therapist building to now being a happily married couple whose love continued to grow as the days passed.

“I did, but tell me again, please”

Oh how he can’t wait to tell his best friend Sam the news he had just received.

Taking his hands in hers she placed them on her still flat stomach and smiled.

“You’re going to be a dad.”

Tags: @imcinnamoons | @pigeonmama | @capsbestgirl77

[embbarnes]

Подарок. | W.S

summary: You give the soldier a present for Christmas.

warnings: Fluff & Angst | Winter Soldier!Bucky | Post!CA:TWS | PTSD mentions | Mention of medical treatments | Recovery | Brief talk of nightmares

a/n: Sort of unofficial part two to Sugar Plums since I had a few people asking for a part two. Same universe I guess, with some time between. Uhh probably rushed idk. To be edited later. ;; wc: 3.3k

Recovery.

Fickle, fragile, exhausting.

He gradually accepted being called Bucky, though the name stirred something uncomfortable within him each time it reached his ears. Steve, ever persistent and hopeful, would use various versions of the name - Bucky, Buck, or sometimes James - in his unwavering attempts to resurrect the friend he once knew, unable to accept that the Bucky from his memories had faded away like footprints in snow.

Winter had completely erased the old Bucky.

While these names would trigger a subtle internal struggle, he maintained an almost perfect mask of indifference, with only the slightest furrowing of his brow betraying any sign of his inner turmoil.

You, however, carefully navigated between calling him Bucky and Soldat, aware that using his old code name might reinforce programming you wished to help him break free from. Yet there was a slight relaxation in his shoulders when you used the familiar designation, the way it seemed to ease the constant tension he carried made it impossible to completely abandon - his comfort, however small, had become your priority.

Even if that comfort stemmed from a dehumanizing name.

It required negotiation and persistent discussions to convince Tony to finally allow the soldier access to the medbay wing for his necessary medical treatments. Despite the soldier's extended stay in the tower passing without any concerning incidents, Tony maintained a strong hesitation about providing medical assistance. His deeply-rooted skepticism and apparent distrust were sources of frustration for you, though you consciously chose to avoid escalating the situation into a full-blown argument, knowing it would only make matters more complicated.

You had already gotten into intense scuffles with Tony over the soldier’s stay, how he needed to be looked over, physically and internally. The dislocated arm Steve caused never healed, and he had been carrying his arm awkwardly close to his body. Other physical injuries on top of the apparent dehydration and malnourishment, he was constantly under a veil of sickness.

The situation was particularly delicate because Soldat struggled with being in the presence of the other tower residents. He was acutely aware of how everyone seemed to cautiously moderate their behavior around him, treating each interaction as if they were navigating through a minefield of potential triggers. Like they were walking along eggshells every time they were near him.

It felt like he was walking on glass.

You were his only source of comfort, though traces of caution still lingered in his demeanor. He knew you posed no threat to his wellbeing. You had been patient and gentle the entire time, regardless of his panic or prone sense to lash out if he got stressed enough.

Long nights stretched endlessly in the sterile medbay rooms, where you faithfully maintained your vigil in the uncomfortable chair positioned beside the standard-issue medical bed. The soldier’s bed remained empty, as he consistently chose to rest on the cold floor instead. Sleep was an elusive companion for him, a nightly battle he rarely won. More often than not, his rest was violently interrupted by his own terrified screams or desperate shouts, his body jerking upright with defensive movements, arms swinging at invisible threats.

You would spend countless minutes trying everything in your power to bring him back to reality and calm his frantic state. Sometimes, despite your best efforts and gentle words, the situation would escalate beyond your ability to manage, forcing the medical staff on standby to intervene with sedatives to prevent him from unintentionally causing harm during these episodes.

Luckily his recovery progressed slowly but surely, transitioning from those intensive IV treatments in the clinical environment of the medbay to the more comfortable setting of your personal quarters. His sleeping arrangements evolved as gradually as his treatment; first from the hard floor, then to the modest couch tucked against the far wall, and finally to your bed.

These days, he found his rest beside you each night, his body instinctively seeking comfort by curling close to yours, desperately trying to make up for all those decades of disturbed sleep and haunted dreams.

Over time, his attachment to you had grown increasingly intense, and he began experiencing waves of jealousy whenever your attention was directed elsewhere. You helped around the tower a lot, so you tended to be distracted with tasks or aiding in another’s need. The soldier didn’t like it, so he began leaving his mark on you. It started subtly at first, he would rub your clothes on himself, in his mind it was good enough that you smelled like him. He saw it in a documentary once, of animals, but he had been in such a dehumanized state for so long, it made sense to him. His body’s scent on you, others would back off. That would work.

But, no, it wasn’t enough.

One day, crossing an unspoken boundary between you, he started placing love bites along your skin, positioning these tender marks from your neck down to your shoulders, eventually becoming bold enough to venture lower, marking your chest with these plum bruises.

The possessive displays sent warmth coursing through your body, and you willingly accepted his territorial behavior. After all, you had become his sole source of comfort and security in this world, making it perfectly natural for him to want to claim you in some way - whether through his distinctive scent (you knew about him rubbing your clothes on his body) or these carefully placed marks. His need to establish this connection, to make his claim visible, he was terrified you’d be taken from him.

Progress was being made in your relationship.

While he was still cautious with physical contact, he had begun to allow gentle touches and brief moments of closeness, though always within carefully maintained boundaries. He was like a cat, deciding when he wanted physical attention and when he wanted it to stop. The challenge of memory recovery remained a significant hurdle in his healing process. You had to help him remember specific things, he often mixed Russian and English, or plainly forgot the simplest of words.

He couldn’t for the life of him remember what a pillow was.

When Steve would speak to him, sharing stories and memories of their past, Bucky would often find himself lost in confusion, unable to connect with the vivid recollections that Steve so enthusiastically shared. The determination in Steve's eyes was evident as he tried desperately to help his lost friend remember the bond they once shared, but for Bucky, these memories remained frustratingly out of reach.

Steve's enthusiasm was well-intentioned, but sometimes, it manifested as an overwhelming flood of information and expectations. You could sense Bucky's growing distress during these interactions, the way his shoulders would tense, how his eyes would dart anxiously around the room. The stark reality was that Bucky's memories of Steve were minimal at best, yet Steve continued to share detailed accounts of their past experiences with increasing intensity.

Your became a careful mediator, providing emotional support to Bucky while gently helping Steve understand that his passionate approach was more hindering rather than helping the delicate process of memory recovery.

Bucky would get frustrated with himself during his journey of recovery. His collection of journals became a sanctuary for his fragmented memories, filled with carefully preserved photographs (provided by Steve), detailed notes written in an unsteady hand, and hastily scrawled thoughts or recollections that would suddenly surface from the depths of his consciousness throughout all hours of the day and night. These journals became both a source of comfort and torment, evidence of his struggle to piece himself back together like a puzzle without a photo.

Even with help from you or Steve, he maintained strict control over his recovery process. He deliberately chose not to document anything that Steve mentioned or tried to convince him of, instead focusing solely on recording memories that emerged organically from within his own mind.

Having experienced decades of mental manipulation, he didn’t want anyone influencing his thoughts or memories ever again. He couldn't bring himself to simply accept Steve's version of events without questioning them, needing to verify everything through his own recollections.

You knew it hurt Steve to see Bucky this way, how he refused to listen or believe him, but you couldn’t blame the man. Either of them, really. It was delicate, it took a lot of patience on everyone’s part.

Bucky’s dedication to recovering his past manifested in sleepless marathons that would stretch on for days at a time. The soldier within him approached the task with military precision, attempting to reconstruct his shattered memories in a specific manner. Yet despite his efforts, the majority of his recollections remained disjointed and fractured, with memories of his time with HYDRA dominating his consciousness more than anything else.

While Bucky was trying to recall his elusive past, you dedicated yourself to helping him build new neural pathways and retain more recent experiences, hoping to make his daily life more manageable and give him a sense of independence. The simplest tasks had become foreign territory for him - the muscle memory and basic understanding of everyday activities having slipped away like water through cupped hands. Modern appliances like microwaves, coffee makers, or the oven had become objects that he approached with confusion.

His relationship with food had become particularly concerning. Unable to prepare proper meals, you would find him furtively consuming makeshift sandwiches, but only when he believed he could finish them before being discovered. His posture during meals was hunched, protectively positioning himself over his plate or bowl, shoveling food into his mouth at an alarming pace, his entire body tense as though preparing to defend his meal from unseen threats.

Food aggression, apparently, wasn't restrictive to just animals.

Among the numerous concerns, his recurring nightmares stood out as the most troubling and pressing issue. The frequency and intensity of these night terrors had become increasingly worrisome, regardless of how well he had progressed otherwise.

Night after night, his anguished screams would pierce the darkness, and these episodes gradually evolved into extended periods where sleep became completely impossible for him to achieve. Bucky would remain awake for days and nights at a stretch, fighting against his own exhaustion, scribbling nonsense into his journals until his body would finally surrender and he would collapse into a brief, troubled slumber.

This cycle would repeat, each time more severe than the last.

Your began looking into different methods that might help ease his troubled sleep so that Bucky could experience the simple luxury of peaceful rest. Your research led you through a wide array of options; from various herbal teas and natural sleep remedies to more conventional medical interventions. However, given his strong aversion to pharmaceutical solutions, you deliberately steered clear of medication-based approaches, knowing they would likely be met with resistance.

Over time, you discovered that a soothing routine of warm herbal tea and gentle companionship proved to be an effective remedy for his nightmares. The nightly ritual of sharing your sleeping space had become second nature, and you observed how this consistent presence brought him the comfort and stability his life lacked for seven decades. His sleep patterns were delicately intertwined with his emotional state, thus during periods of anxiety or perceived threat, his rest would become noticeably disturbed and fitful.

However, your unwavering presence served as a constant source of reassurance, creating a safe haven where he could finally find peaceful rest. Plus, it helped him regain new memories to write down and you could see how proud he was every time he recounted something from his past.

Christmas morning.

Every corner and crevice of the tower sparkled with festive décor, tinsel draped from every available surface, and twinkling lights illuminated the halls in a dazzling display. It was an extravagant winter wonderland that bordered on excessive, but that was exactly Tony's style - he approached every holiday with unbridled enthusiasm, and Christmas was undoubtedly his crowning achievement.

With his seemingly limitless resources at his disposal, there was nothing holding him back from creating the most elaborate celebrations possible.

Aka…he was rich so he could.

In contrast to Tony's lavish approach, you took a more modest approach when it came to gift-giving. The act of receiving presents always made you somewhat uncomfortable, as you found far more joy in being the one doing the giving. You selected meaningful presents for each team member, carefully considering their individual interests and preferences. You couldn't match Tony's extravagant spending (something he never failed to remind everyone of that morning), but you firmly believed that the genuine thought and personal consideration behind a gift carried far more significance than its monetary value (Tony disagrees).

Bucky perched uncomfortably at the far end of the plush couch, his posture tense and rigid while the other team members enthusiastically tore through their wrapped presents with childlike excitement. Your general annoyance with Tony's characteristic swagger and showmanship failed you this morning, a warmth spread through your chest at the genuine joy radiating from Pepper's face when she discovered the exquisite diamond ring he had carefully selected for her and presented after she freed it from the tight wrapping paper.

You stayed by Bucky all morning, carefully observing his reactions to the bustling holiday atmosphere. It was clear he was struggling to process the overwhelming sensory experience and you didn’t blame him. The twinkling lights and shimmering tinsel to the constant chatter and laughter of the group, on top of holiday music and the smells of breakfast and baked goods from the kitchen, were surely a lot to process. His discomfort grew and you recognized the telltale signs of sensory overload in his slightly widened eyes and shallow breathing. The social expectations was clearly taking its toll.

He had wanted to try, he wanted to sit down with you that morning, but he had been struggling.

Your gift pile was modest, exactly as you had requested. You insisted that presents weren't necessary, you found yourself the recipient of a generously stuffed Christmas stocking and an assortment of small, meaningful items carefully chosen by your teammates in a way that made it impossible for you to object to their kindness.

When Steve presented Bucky with a collection of carefully preserved mementos from their past, but the soldier's response wasn’t what he wanted. His eyes fixed on the items that should have sparked recognition, should have ignited memories of happier times, but instead were met with blank confusion and growing distress. You sensed the uncomfortable scene and noticed the mounting anxiety in Bucky's expression, you decided to intervene with a present you got for him.

"Here, I got this for you." You handed him a carefully wrapped bag with delicate tissue paper peeking out from the top, rustling softly with each movement. "Nothing all that special but...I figured it might be nice to have something like this." You replied gently, your voice carrying a hint of nervousness as you watched him, waiting with anticipation for him to open the gift.

Bucky held the bag tentatively, his eyes fixed on the festive baby blue packaging adorned with an intricate pattern of darker blue ornaments. The glitter-coated decorations caught the light as they spiraled across the surface of the bag. He had to blink a few times to refocus his eyes, his hand slowly reached up and grasped the white tissue paper that had been carefully arranged at the top, concealing the gift. He pulled it free, soft crinkling sounded as he removed it.

He reached into the depths of the bag, his fingers brushing against something soft before grasping it. As he drew it out, his hand revealed a charming stuffed elephant, its plush grey body soft to the touch. The toy was perfectly proportioned, with endearing fat limbs that dangled naturally from its tear-shaped body. Its oversized ears flopped gently and its trunk curved in a friendly manner that seemed to welcome embrace. The stuffed animal sat comfortably in his hands, sized just right for holding close and cuddling.

"Elephants are known for their memories, you know." You gave him a gentle, encouraging nudge, your voice soft and hopeful. "Who knows? Maybe having this elephant around will help spark some of those lost memories of yours. They say elephants never forget, after all."

Bucky turned to face you, his expression one of confusion and curiosity. His eyes held that familiar, guarded look the soldier usually carried - a careful blend of wariness and interest that never quite revealed his inner thoughts. He examined the stuffed toy with an almost childlike fascination, as if encountering one for the first time.

His flesh hand explored every detail of the plush elephant with careful attention, fingers trailing along the soft fabric. He wrapped them around the trunk, testing its flexibility, then moved to rub the floppy ears between his thumb and forefinger, then squeezing the body gently as if checking its softness.

"There's something else too." You smiled warmly, gesturing toward the bag with enthusiasm. "Go ahead, take another look." He complied, reaching in until his hand emerged clutching a brand new journal. Following the theme, the journal was decorated in a soothing light blue shade, its cover stamped with a delicately printed elephant in the center. "I noticed your other journals were getting pretty full, so I thought you might need a fresh start. This one's got plenty of space, lots of room for all those thoughts and memories you want to keep safe."

His hands gently set the items down after examining each one carefully, his eyes lingering on every detail as if trying to memorize them. Then he turned to you, his expression unreadable. "You...got these...for me." Bucky spoke slowly, each word carefully chosen, as if he was having trouble processing the simple act of kindness. "To help me remember?"

"And, the elephant will be a nice cuddle buddy for those long nights you tend to have," you explained softly, watching his reaction. "It has special infusions of lavender and bergamot oils that I picked specifically to help you sleep better. The aromatherapy might even help soothe away those bad dreams you've been having. Well, at least according to the sales clerk." You reached out and lifted the soft plush elephant, bringing it to your nose and inhaling deeply. "See? It's really calming, isn't it?"

He took the toy back and smelled it deeply, letting out a contented sigh as the aroma filled his nose and sent waves of comfort through his body, making him feel warm and fuzzy inside. He carefully lowered the elephant into his lap, treating it as if it were made of delicate porcelain. His throat tightened with emotion as he swallowed hard and looked back at you, his eyes wide with disbelief and gratitude.

"All this for me?" he whispered, his voice barely audible as he struggled to process the reality that someone would think to get him anything at all (Steve didn’t count). The concept of receiving gifts was so foreign to him, so far removed from his perception of what he deserved, that he could barely wrap his mind around it.

You thought maybe it looked sill to some people, but it was more about why you got it, not what you got him.

You nodded, offering a warm smile, "Yes...I got this just for you."

The soldier's gaze slowly drifted back to his lap, his fingers lingering momentarily on the thoughtful gifts before carefully pushing the journal and elephant to rest beside him. He then leaned forward quickly, closing the distance between you and wrapping his arms around you in a tight embrace. The display caught you off guard, given his usual hesitance to initiate any form of contact beyond nightly cuddling or his possessive love-bites.

After you recovered from the sudden gesture, your arms encircled him in return. You drew him closer as he nestled himself against your body, seeking comfort in your warmth and smell. It was one of the only things he could consistently rely on.

A knowing smile played across your lips as you whispered against his ear, "I take it you like it?"

"...Да."

Thanks for reading. -em 🌿

Dividers by @/strangergraphics | Images found on Pinterest.

[rowie264]

If someone criticizes something, it doesn't mean that they hate it. It also works the other way around. If you like something, it doesn't mean that it's done well from an objective point of view.

I love Jinx. Her design, her story, her personality, her character arc... I was just fascinated by her. Jinx has become one of my favorite characters in media in general. It was the continuation of her story that I was waiting for the most.

Jinx is still my favorite character in season 2. I love almost every scene with her. How she did Sevika's arm and the subsequent fight with the Smeech, the fight with Vi in Act 1, the prison break, search for Vander in the mines, epic appearance during the battle against Noxus.

I got a lot of positive emotions while watching s2 and especially during Jinx's appearance on the screen. But… an emotional response and objective assessment are two different things. And objectively, Jinx's character in season 2 is OOC and poorly written.

Removing very importand part of her story and personality. Her mental issues almost completely disappear. This is a very important aspect of her character. And no, Isha's presence and a "more favorable environment" would not heal her, the whole 2nd act is completely unrealistic and looks stupid, since all her problems with her mental health were magically solved off-screen;

Irrelevant piece of plot. Her arc of "Zaun symbol" passes by her - she becomes a symbol by accident, ignores the consequences and directly encounters all this revolutionary mood only during Isha's saving from Stillwater (at the same time saving her followers - an indirect action, not a purposeful one). So this arc is kinda about her, but she doesn't seem to participate in it herself, and it ends with literally nothing (like the whole Zaun revolution);

Making her more appealing to wider audience. Her hatred of Piltover and Caitlyn just disappeared. Yes, while she was with Vi in the mines she said "piltie goons who murdered mom and dad," but… that's all? Jinx doesn't kill a single enforcer in the entire 2nd season (although, for example, she could have in Stillwater) and tells Caitlyn "I didn't know your mother was there." Let me remind you that Jinx literally giggled in s1 when she killed a dozen enforcers during gemstone kidnapping, killed enforcers on the bridge without any care, she hated Caitlyn fiercely because she "stole" her sister from her, and she couldn't not know that Cassandra was a councilor. It isn't showed how and why she changed her opinion and this is important thing to her character, you can't explain such change with microexpressions or parallels;

Unrealistic happy family reunion. The reunion of Jinx, Vi, and Vander is a spectacular moment from Disney. Do you remember how Jinx reacted when Vi returned? Yes, she was happy but as soon as she spotted Cait she freaked out and immidiately thought that Vi betrayed her. Imagine what would happen if her supposedly dead - bc of her btw - father had returned and now looks like some animal;

Silco mattered much more to Jinx. A very "subtle" replacement of Silco for Vander in the role of father (Jinx calls him father, sniffs Vander's jacket and not Silco's), although Silco played probably a bigger role in this? And Jinx remembers about him like 2 times? Although it's been about 7-10 years since Vi's "death" in season 1, Jinx was still triggered by just a similar appearance. Apparently, Silco wasn't that important to Jinx (which is not true); I could still keep talking about Jinx, but let's leave it at that.

I love Jinx even in season 2. I like watching scenes with her. But my emotional attachment doesn't stop me from seeing that Jinx's character in s2 is not a continuation of Jinx's character of the end of s1. Her image is broken, the arcs are not completed, the relationships with other characters are poorly written.

[vamptizm]

WHITE CHRISTMAS — p. bueckers

pairing: paige bueckers x gf!reader

synopsis: paige invites reader and former teammate—who doesn’t usually celebrate—to celebrate christmas with her family as her girlfriend.

warnings: reader doesn���t celebrate christmas. nonexistent family dynamics mentioned briefly. fluffy ass shit.

word counts: 3677

note: honestly i wrote this for everyone, but mostly for those who may not celebrate and still want to feel included in some way, since ik it can be hard to relate to the whole thing. (divider credits: dollywons)

The glow of the late afternoon sun streamed through the windows of your cozy apartment in Storrs, casting long, golden beams across the living room floor. A faint chill lingered in the air despite the heater's best efforts, and you found yourself wrapped in a thick throw blanket, idly scrolling on your phone while waiting for Paige to come home from practice.

The sound of her keys jangling at the door pulled you from your reverie. A smile tugged at your lips as she stepped inside, her cheeks flushed pink from the cold. Her blond hair, still damp from the post-practice shower, clung to the edges of her knit beanie, and her usual oversized UConn hoodie dwarfed her frame. She looked like the embodiment of comfort and home, and as always, the sight of her brought an instant warmth to your chest.

"Hey, mama," she greeted you with a cocky smirk, dropping her duffel bag by the door and kicking off her sneakers. "Miss me?"

"A little," you replied, already opening your arms as she padded over to the couch. She fell into your embrace, settling against you with an exaggerated sigh, and you pressed a kiss to her temple.

For a moment, the two of you just sat there, wrapped up in the quiet kind of love that didn’t need words. It was moments like these that reminded you how much your life had changed since you met Paige. She had made you feel things you never thought you could—security, belonging, and, most of all, an unwavering sense of being loved.

But then she shifted slightly, pulling away just enough to look at you, and you caught that glimmer of hesitation in her eyes. It was subtle, but you had been with Paige long enough to know when she was mulling something over.

"What's on your mind?" you asked softly, brushing a strand of hair away from her face.

She hesitated, biting her bottom lip before exhaling a short laugh. "Okay, so, I've been thinking about something..."

Your brow arched, curiosity piqued. "That doesn’t sound ominous at all."

Paige rolled her eyes, though her smile remained. "No, it’s nothing bad. Just—well, Christmas is coming up, and I was wondering..." She paused again, glancing down at where her hands were now fiddling with the hem of her hoodie. "Would you want to come home with me this year? To Minnesota? To celebrate with my family?"

You blinked, her words settling heavily in the air between you. Of all the things you thought she might say, this wasn’t even on the list.

"Your family?" you repeated, as if you hadn’t heard her right.

She nodded, her gaze lifting to meet yours. "Yeah. I mean, you’ve met some of them before, but not like this. Not as my girlfriend." She gave you a gummy smile, scratching the back of her neck, and it was rare to see her this nervous around you. "I just thought... you know, since you don’t usually celebrate Christmas and you don’t have any family around... maybe you could join us. I want you to be there. With me."

Her words were earnest, but they left you momentarily speechless. Your mind raced, a whirlwind of thoughts and doubts tangling together in a way that made it hard to focus.

What if they didn’t like you? What if you said the wrong thing or did something awkward? You’d never had the kind of big, supportive family Paige talked about so fondly. What if you just didn’t... fit?

You realized you’d been silent too long when Paige gently nudged your arm. "Hey," she said softly, her tone laced with concern. "You don’t have to say yes. I don’t want to pressure you or anything. I just thought... I’d ask."

"Are you sure?" you managed to say, your voice quieter than you intended. "I mean, are you sure you want me there? It’s your family’s Christmas. It’s... important."

Paige’s brows knit together, and she reached out to take your hand, lacing her fingers with yours. "I’m absolutely sure, baby. I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t. You’re important to me, and I want you to be a part of this. I want you to see what Christmas is like with my family—our traditions, the chaos, all of it. I want to share it with you."

Her words were a balm to your fraying nerves, and for a moment, you just stared at her, taking in the sincerity etched across her face.

"Okay," you finally said, the word slipping out before you could overthink it. "I’ll go."

Paige’s face lit up instantly, her smile wide and genuine. "Really?"

You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips despite the lingering nerves. "Really. I mean, I’m probably going to embarrass myself at least five times, but I’ll go."

She laughed, leaning in to press a soft, lingering kiss to your lips. "You’ll be perfect," she murmured against your mouth. "And even if you’re not, I’ll love you anyway."

You chuckled, wrapping your arms around her and pulling her close. "I guess I’ll have to trust you on that."

And as Paige melted into your embrace, her excitement already bubbling over as she started rambling about how much her family would love you, you couldn’t help but feel a flicker of something new in your chest.

The flight to Minnesota had been smooth, though the hum of anticipation in the air made the hours feel like they dragged on forever. Paige had insisted on sitting by the window, claiming it was her spot for every flight she’d ever taken, and you’d let her, settling in beside her while she pressed her forehead against the glass and pointed out things she thought looked cool from the sky.

“See that?” she’d said, her voice light and teasing as she gestured toward a cluster of houses dusted with snow. “That’s the exact size of the town you’ll move to when you retire from the league.”

“Wow, so you’re planning my entire life now?” you’d quipped, earning yourself a playful elbow to the side and that cocky grin of hers that you couldn’t help but adore.

“Our life.” The blonde casually corrected.

By the time you landed and grabbed your bags, the cold Minnesota air greeted you like a slap to the face. Paige, on the other hand, seemed completely unfazed, even as you shivered despite the heavy coat you’d packed.

“Not a fan of the cold, huh?” she asked, her tone dripping with amusement as she effortlessly swung her duffel bag over one shoulder.

“It’s fucking freezing,” you muttered through gritted teeth.

“You’ll survive, princess.” she said with a smirk, leaning over to press a quick kiss to your temple. “Besides, I’ll keep you warm.”

You rolled your eyes, but the words made your heart flutter all the same.

The drive to her family home was short, but every minute seemed longer as you sat beside Paige, nerves bubbling beneath the surface. She was chatting about something—probably basketball or some ridiculous story about her brother—but you could barely focus. All you could think about was what awaited you: her family.

You’d met some of Paige’s family before—her dad, her stepmom, and her little brother Drew. Drew, in particular, had taken to you almost instantly, which Paige always liked to tease you about, claiming he liked you more than he liked her. But this time, it wasn’t just about meeting her family as her friend or teammate. This was the first Christmas where you’d be introduced as her girlfriend.

The weight of that reality settled in your chest as Paige drove the rented car, humming along to a playlist she’d thrown together, her hand resting casually on the gear shift.

“You’re quiet,” she said after a while, glancing at you out of the corner of her eye.

You shook your head, offering a small smile. “Just… thinking.”

“Thinking about how I’m the best girlfriend ever?” she teased, her lips twitching into a smirk. “Because if not, that’s a missed opportunity.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t fight the grin that tugged at your mouth. “More like wondering if your family’s gonna like me as much when they know we’re dating.”

Paige scoffed, her confidence radiating as she gave a dismissive wave. “You’re kidding, right? They already love you. Drew’s basically ready to ditch me and make you his new sister.”

“That’s different,” you countered, your voice softer now. “It’s one thing to like me as your friend or teammate. It’s another to know I’m… with you.”

Paige slowed the car slightly as she reached for your hand, her fingers threading through yours. Her thumb brushed against your skin, grounding you.

“Listen,” she said, her voice calm but firm. “They’re gonna love you no matter what. And if they don’t? Screw ’em. But I’m telling you—they will. You’ve got nothing to worry about.” She lifted your hand to her lips, pressing a soft kiss on the cold skin.

Her words worked their magic, easing some of the tension in your chest. You nodded, squeezing her hand in thanks.

“Plus,” she added with a sly grin, “if anyone tries to give you a hard time, just remind them you’re a pro baller while I’m still a college kid. Instant power move.”

You laughed despite yourself, shaking your head. Paige always had a way of making even the most stressful situations feel manageable.

When you pulled into the familiar driveway, the house was exactly how you remembered it: warm, inviting, and buzzing with life. Snow blanketed the yard, and the glow of Christmas lights framed the windows like a postcard.

Paige barely parked the car before Drew came bounding out of the front door, his grin wide as ever.

“Finally!” he shouted, jogging over to your side of the car. “You guys took forever. I was about to send a search party.”

Paige rolled her eyes as she stepped out, slinging her duffel bag over her shoulder. “Relax, we’re here now.”

You barely had time to grab your bag before Drew was pulling you into a tight hug, his excitement palpable.

“I missed you!” he said, his voice muffled slightly against your jacket.

“Missed you too, buddy,” you replied with a laugh, ruffling his hair.

Paige stood off to the side, hands on her hips as she watched the interaction with a mock scowl. “Unbelievable. I leave for, like, five months, and he acts like you’re the sister he hasn’t seen.”

Drew shot her a cheeky grin. “She’s way cooler and nicer than you.”

“Okay. Just forget everything I’ve done for you, i guess,” Paige deadpanned, though the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her amusement.

Inside, Paige’s dad and stepmom greeted you both warmly, the familiarity of it all calming your nerves. Her dad gave you a firm side-hug and a pat on the shoulder, while her stepmom hugged you tightly, telling you how good it was to see you again.

“It’s been too long,” she said, stepping back to look at you. “Paige hasn’t been hogging all your time, has she?”

“Just a little.” you replied, your voice light as you glanced at Paige, who was smirking.

“Good,” her stepmom said with a wink. “Well, make yourselves at home. There’s plenty of food, and Drew’s been asking about you nonstop.”

“Obviously,” Paige muttered, earning a playful shove from her brother as he led you both into the living room.

By mid-afternoon, the house was buzzing even more than before. Paige’s grandparents, aunts, uncles, and a handful of cousins started arriving, bringing with them an abundance of chatter, hugs, and bags full of gifts. You’d barely caught your breath from Drew’s relentless teasing and jokes when you were swept into a whirlwind of introductions.

Paige, ever the calm and collected one, had one arm draped over your shoulder as she led you through the crowd. Her confidence was a lifeline, her voice steady as she introduced you to each family member.

“This is my girlfriend,” she said, her tone casual but filled with quiet pride.

The word girlfriend made your stomach flip every time, but you kept your smile steady, offering polite handshakes and warm greetings.

Her grandparents, a kind and slightly mischievous older couple, were the most memorable. Her grandmother immediately pulled you into a hug, whispering, “I’ve heard so much about you.”

“All good things, I hope,” you replied with a soft chuckle.

“Mostly,” her grandfather teased, shooting Paige a wink.

“Grandpa,” Paige warned, though her tone was light.

“Relax, kid,” he said, patting her on the back. “You’ve got good taste. We approve.”

Paige smirked, her hand squeezing your shoulder as if to say, See? Told you.

When dinner rolled around, you were starting to feel more at ease. The dining room was packed, the long table barely able to accommodate everyone. You found yourself seated between Paige and Drew, with her cousins spread out on the other side.

Throughout the meal, Paige stayed close, her hand occasionally brushing against yours under the table. At one point, when you thought no one was looking, she leaned in to whisper in your ear. “You look so beautiful right now. Makes me wanna eat you, instead of the food.”

“You’re really leaning into this whole domestic girlfriend role, huh?” you teased, glancing at her.

“Gotta keep you impressed somehow,” she shot back, her eyes glinting with flirtatious amusement.

Her cousins caught the exchange, one of them groaning dramatically. “Can you two not be so cute? Some of us are single and bitter.”

Paige snorted, tossing a bread roll at them with pinpoint accuracy. “Not my fault you can’t pull.”

The laughter and chaotic banter that followed was enough to make your chest feel a little lighter.

After dinner, the family transitioned into games, with Drew and Paige’s cousins dominating the living room for an intense round of charades. Paige dragged you into it despite your protests, her competitive streak flaring up once again.

When it was her turn to act out a movie, she took your hand and pulled you to the center of the room with her.

“You’re my partner,” she declared confidently, ignoring the groans from everyone else.

The two of you worked seamlessly, your dynamic so natural that you guessed “Home Alone” within seconds of her miming setting traps. The room erupted in groans and applause, Drew shouting, “Unfair advantage!”

“What can I say?” Paige said, pulling you close by the hips. “We’re a dream team.”

You rolled your eyes, but the warmth in her gaze made your heart skip a beat.

Later, after the games had ended and most of the family had settled into conversations or dozed off in various corners of the house, you and Paige snuck away to the kitchen for some peace.

The house was still warm and lively, but here in the quiet glow of the fairy lights wrapped around the window, it felt like your own little world.

Paige leaned against the counter, a cup of hot cocoa in her hands. You stood beside her, the hum of distant laughter and chatter wrapping around you like a blanket.

“You holding up okay?” she asked, her voice softer now. Void of any teasing and her usual smirk, that you swore could be heard.

You nodded, turning to face her fully. “Your family’s amazing. Overwhelming, but amazing.”

She smiled, setting her cup down to close the distance between you. Her hands found your waist, her thumbs brushing over the fabric of the sweater her dad had given you. It only made you feel part of her family even more.

“They love you,” she said simply. “I told you they would.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re always right,” you teased, your hands resting on her shoulders.

She smirked, her confidence returning in full force. “Don’t forget it.”

You laughed, but it faded into something softer as she leaned in, her forehead resting against yours.

“Merry Christmas, Ma.” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Merry Christmas, P.” you replied, your heart swelling as she kissed you, slow and sweet, under the soft glow of the lights.

For the first time in a long time, you felt like you belonged. And as Paige’s arms wrapped around you tighter, holding you impossibly close, you couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, Christmas wasn’t so bad after all.

You stirred awake at the feeling of soft, warm lips pressing against your forehead, then your cheek, then the tip of your nose. A groggy groan left your lips as Paige's voice cut through the haze of sleep.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty.” she murmured, her voice warm with amusement as she continued peppering kisses across your face.

“Too early,” you mumbled, turning your head to bury it in the pillow.

Paige chuckled, tugging the blanket off you just enough to crawl closer, her weight sinking into the bed beside you. “Come on, it’s Christmas morning. Presents are waiting, and Drew’s already downstairs losing his mind. You’re not gonna make me carry you, are you?”

You groaned again, cracking one eye open to meet her amused gaze. “You’d carry me if I asked.”

Paige smirked, leaning down so her lips hovered over yours. “You’re right. I would.”

The way her words sent a rush of warmth through your chest was enough to finally convince you to sit up, though not without a dramatic sigh.

“Fine, fine,” you muttered. “Let me brush my teeth first, though. You may love me, but morning breath is still a thing.”

Paige rolled her eyes but pulled you into a quick kiss anyway before hopping off the bed, smirking when you stared at her in mock betrayal. “Hurry up, or Drew’s opening all the presents without us.”

The living room was warm and bustling, the faint smell of cinnamon rolls wafting in from the kitchen. Paige’s dad and stepmom were sipping coffee on the couch, while Drew sat cross-legged near the tree, eyeing the stack of presents like a predator watching its prey.

“Finally!” Drew exclaimed when you and Paige walked in, his energy contagious. “Can we start now?”

Paige smirked, leading you to a spot on the floor near the tree. “Go ahead, dude. You’re first.”

Drew wasted no time, tearing through the presents from his parents and sister like it was a sport. The last box in his pile was from you, and he paused, glancing at you with a curious grin.

“This one’s from you, right?” he asked, already pulling at the paper.

“Yup,” you said with a nod, leaning back against Paige. “Hope you like it.”

The moment he got the box open, his jaw dropped. Inside was a pair of custom Nike basketball shoes in his favorite color, his jersey number stitched onto the side, along with a few small, personalized details—his initials, a subtle design of his favorite team’s logo, and a motivational quote you’d heard Paige repeat to him once during practice.

“Yo!” Drew exclaimed, holding the shoes up like they were a trophy. “These are so sick!” He jumped to his feet, throwing himself at you for a bear hug that nearly knocked you backward. “This is the coolest present ever! Thank you!”

You laughed, hugging him back. “I’m glad you like them, Drew.”

“Like them? I love them!” he said, grinning ear to ear as he slipped them on to admire how they looked.

Next, everyone unwrapped their gifts in turns, each one from you met with smiles, laughter, and gratitude. Paige’s dad unwrapped a sleek leather wallet with his initials engraved on it, while her stepmom gasped at the elegant bracelet you’d picked out for her.

Then it was Paige’s turn.

You handed her a neatly wrapped box, and she raised an eyebrow at the size and weight of it. Carefully peeling away the paper, she opened the box to reveal a stunning, customized Rolex. The watch gleamed with purple accents, subtle bedazzling, and an engraving on the inside of the band: ‘Time stops when I’m with you.’

Paige blinked, her usually confident demeanor faltering for just a second as she stared at the watch. Then her lips curled into a grin as she held it up to the light.

“You seriously got me a Rolex?” she asked, her tone hovering between amused and impressed.

You shrugged, biting back a smile. “I didn’t know what to get you. I spoil you with personalized and sentimental stuff all the time, so I figured I’d go all out for christmas.”

Paige leaned over, pressing a kiss to your temple. “You didn’t have to, but I’m not complaining. It’s perfect. Thank you, baby.”

Finally, it was your turn. There was a neat stack of gifts with your name on them, but Paige’s was the smallest—a tiny box that she handed to you with a smirk.

“Is this an engagement ring?” you teased, holding the box up dramatically.

Paige only smiled, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Not yet,” she said, her voice steady and confident.

That response made your heart skip a beat, and you gave her a mock glare to cover up how flustered you felt. “Don’t say things like that so casually.”

You opened the box to find a gold necklace with a charm in the shape of a basketball, engraved with the date of your first game together at UConn.

“Paige,” you whispered, your fingers brushing over the charm as a lump formed in your throat.

“Do you like it?” she asked, watching your expression closely.

You nodded, unable to stop the smile that broke across your face. “I love it. Thank you.”

Paige grinned, leaning in to kiss you softly. “Merry Christmas, mama.”

The rest of the morning was spent surrounded by warmth, laughter, and the sound of wrapping paper being crumpled and tossed aside. And for the first time in years, you felt like Christmas truly had a place in your heart—thanks to Paige and the family that welcomed you with open arms.

[puck-luck]

home for the holidays | luke hughes

warnings: holiday quickie, gotta be quiet bc there's family around so like semi-public sex, fingering, unprotected p in v, dom!ish luke, light dirty talk, marks, light gag (fingers in mouth), talk about using toys

pairing: luke hughes x fem!reader

summary: you and luke make a no-sex pact during your time at luke's home, but that quickly breaks after you exchange christmas presents.

wc: 2027

It’s your first Christmas with Luke’s family and the agreement was that you wouldn’t have sex in Luke’s bedroom with all of his family around. You’re already feeling lucky that his parents are the kind of people who allow partners to share beds during the holidays, rather than splitting them up and sending the partners to the guest room. Given the fact that there are a couple of girlfriends visiting this Christmas, it would be a tight fit in the guest room. You love a sleepover with the girls, obviously, but you’d rather have a sleepover with your boyfriend.

The fast pace of the NHL only breaks for three days– Christmas Eve, Christmas, and Boxing Day– so the “No Sex” pact should have been easy. Three days is nothing. It’s only 72 hours, six of which you spend in the car or on the airplane, so it’s more like 66 hours. You also have eight hours of sleep per night, and you’re staying for two nights, so that’s another 16 hours lost. So, really, you only have to make it through 50 hours without having sex. 

You make it through the first 24 hours just fine. You’re done with Christmas Eve dinner and you’ve all hung out for a little while, drinking eggnog and exchanging stories and laughter with Luke’s relatives. 

His hand had grown heavier on your thigh or waist throughout the night, as you consumed more of the cream-colored drink. It was rare for Luke to leave your side, except to refill your drink, and he’d had the wherewithall to cut you off after two cups of the spiked eggnog, knowing that you’d hate to have a hangover in front of his family the following morning. 

By the time the clock struck midnight, you were beyond ready to go to bed. The relatives had left the house with kind “see you tomorrow”s for the formal Christmas dinner that would take place at Luke’s grandmother’s house. Luke’s parents had gone to bed, too– Jim climbed the stairs right away, while Ellen hung out with the boys for about thirty minutes before going upstairs herself. That had just left the boys and the girlfriends, who had shot the shit for as long as they could, but you all were yawning after such a long day, so the party was cut short.

You and Luke had decided to do one more thing before bed on Christmas Eve. You were going to exchange gifts.

You’d gone first because Luke had insisted. You’d gotten him one of those handheld massage guns. Jack had one for their apartment already, but he was always hogging it because technically it belonged to him, so Luke wanted one of his own. 

The delighted surprise on his face and his earnest thanks, as well as the sweet kiss he’d given you, already had you hot and heavy. Luke’s body was no stranger to you and, probably partially because of the eggnog, you were in the mood to reconnect with him.

Then you’d seen the necklace. You’re still gaping at it when Luke speaks.

“It’s a sapphire,” Luke says softly. “I know you said you didn’t want an ‘L’ necklace, so I got you something more subtle. Sapphire is my birthstone– I looked it up– and I thought the blue would look pretty on you.”

“I love it,” you tell him. You carefully extract the necklace from its box and hold it out to Luke. “Will you put it on me?” You turn from him, moving your hair to the side and baring your neck. 

With gentle hands, Luke reaches around and sets the necklace in place. The sapphire heart rests between your collarbones. After he fixes the clasp, Luke’s fingers trail along the nape of your neck. You feel his lips brush against your skin, reverent and loving, and your “No Sex” pact goes entirely out the window.

The kiss is rushed and, while you’re the one leading it, Luke is not far behind. He’s actually rather quick to cover your body with his hands. His right goes to your behind, laying on your cheek and groping the flesh. He splays the fingers on his left hand, which engulfs a good expanse of your back. 

Your clothes seem to fly off, as do Luke’s. You’re left in your bra and panties, while Luke is in his boxers, and he pulls you to the bed. Tongues tangled, Luke lays atop you and brings his hand to your core.

You moan aloud when Luke sheaths two fingers into your pussy, working quickly to open you up. You and Luke freeze, eyes wide. Your legs are spread and his fingers are still inside of you, so anyone who wakes up and comes to check on you would get an eyeful.

Luckily, no one does, and Luke chuckles in relief. “You gotta be quieter, baby,” Luke mumbles before kissing you again. “I don’t want anyone interrupting us.”

“I will,” you promise hurriedly, tangling your fingers in Luke’s curls and tugging him closer.

Luke curls and scissors his fingers inside of you. You honestly try your best to stay quiet, but Luke’s digits always manage to draw noises from you without much effort. You kiss him. You press your lips together. No matter how you try to stifle yourself, noises leak from your mouth anyway. 

It isn’t until Luke plants his other hand over your mouth that you’re silenced. 

“You never shut up,” Luke says with a goofy smile, sounding more proud of himself than upset that you can’t follow his suggestion. “Do I make you feel good, sweetheart?” He strokes your g-spot after asking, which has you moaning into his palm like an answer to his question and arching your back. Luke grins. “Ready for my cock, baby?” Another stroke to your spot and another moan.

You feel his fingers withdraw from your cunt, which leaves you feeling empty and wanting for more. He’d nearly brought you to orgasm and now he’s taking it away. “Luke,” you whisper against his hand. He goes to remove it, but you grasp his wrist and hold him in place.

Luke quirks his eyebrows. He wipes the slick from your cunt on his boxers before pulling his cock from the flap in the front. “So no one sees my ass if we wake them up,” he explains, stroking himself. He makes sure the crotch of your panties stays to the side, then begins to inch forward.

Your eyes flutter shut and you melt into the mattress. You sigh, lips slackening at the sensation of his cock rubbing against your insides.

“Gonna be quick,” Luke tells you, dipping his head to kiss against your jawline. “You feel so good.”

You nod, blinking at him and maintaining eye contact. He feels so good. He’s the one who makes this feel the way it does.

His hips roll into yours rapidly, sending sparks through your being. Now that Luke doesn’t need to line himself up with your core, his hand has found its way above your shoulder, planted securely against the bed and keeping himself steady. 

Your nails find his arm, then his bicep, then his back. Angry red lines rise on his skin, which will hopefully fade by tomorrow. It would be terrible and scarring for one of Luke’s parents to catch you in the act now, but you’d feel pretty embarrassed if they were to notice the scratches and ask Luke about them tomorrow. You bring your hands back to Luke’s hair.

Chancing it, Luke groans under his breath and removed his hand from your mouth. He kisses you, trailing his tongue along your bottom lip. 

Tilting your chin down, you capture his mouth and suck on his tongue. 

He uses his free hand to draw your knee up over his hip, which brings his cock to a new spot inside of you. It’s deep and he’s constantly hitting your walls, sending jolts through your stomach. 

“Oh, fuck, Luke,” you whimper, louder than intended. 

Luke quiets you with a hush, then pushes his index and middle fingers between your lips. The pads of his fingers press down on your tongue, stealing some of the breath from your lungs. 

Your tongue starts to move, sucking on his fingers like you would suck on his cock. 

“Greedy girl,” Luke coos. He pistons his hips into yours. “Touch your clit for me, baby. Touch it like I would.”

Spit pools in your mouth when your jaw drops at the allure of his words, hand finding the apex of your legs and circling the bundle frantically. 

“No,” Luke chastizes. “You know that’s not what I’d do.”

You draw your eyebrows together and whine petulantly, but you halt your movements anyway. 

“Go on,” Luke encourages. “Do it like me or don’t touch at all. I’ll make you come regardless.”

He slows his hips and eyes you, challenging you. You know that he’ll stop if you don’t listen and you cannot fathom having his cock leave you.

Closing your eyes, cheeks burning a little bit, you pinch your clit between your fingers and roll it. It’s a move that Luke discovered when he was toying with you after morning practice one day, edging you mindlessly and testing to see what you like. It was relatively early in your relationship and you swear that Luke’s “discovery” was just the culmination of a bunch of near-orgasms that he had torn away from you. He’s been using this move for months and it has brought you to the edge more times than you care to admit. 

Smiling devilishly, Luke begins to fuck into you quicker than before. “That’s my girl,” he says. “Can’t believe you’re going to come in my old bed. So slutty, baby. I love it.” He pushes his fingers further into your mouth, silencing your response to his dirty talk. 

As embarrassing as it is, the pinching and twisting of your clit provides a bizarre mixture of pain and pleasure, which make your nerves feel abused and overcome in the best way. 

You start to breathe heavily, panting around Luke’s fingers as his cock batters your insides and your fingers stimulate your clit. A bit of drool pools between Luke’s fingers, mouth as wet around his fingers as your pussy is around his cock. 

Luke gags you on his fingers, his thumb pressing against the soft skin under your jaw while his digits flatten your tongue. You suck desperately, whimpering around him. Your cunt clenches in time with your swallows, which pulls Luke to the edge.

He comes undone first, orgasm starting as a trickle then turning into a series of spurts inside your pussy. It feels scalding against your sensitive inner walls, mixing with your juices. 

“Come with me,” Luke tells you as his orgasm hits. He comes closer and bites over your neck, refusing to suck and mark since he knows it’ll bother you the following day. “Come, babe. Keep touching your pretty, swollen clit and milk my cock when you come.”

His words tip you over the edge, tinging your eyesight with black spots. His fingers act as a wonderful gag, as they’ve been doing all night, but the addition of his ring finger keeps your wanton moans from shaking the house. 

Luke fucks into you through the aftershocks, truly allowing your entrance to squeeze every last drop from his member. He pulls out only to plug you again with his fingers, the ones that had just left your mouth. They slide inside you easily, aided by your spit and the mixture of cum that resides inside of you.

Plastering himself to your side, Luke kisses you sweetly. “So, you like the necklace?” He asks. 

You breathe out a little laugh. “Love it. It’s so cute, Luke.”

“Aw, just like you,” Luke says with a shit-eating grin.

You hit his shoulder, blushing. “Shut up. You’re so weird.”

“Just complimenting my pretty girlfriend,” Luke continues. He bends his arm at the elbow and props his head up on his fist, looking down at you. “Hey, do you think we can use my massage gun as a vibrator?”

notes: merry christmas to those who celebrate and happy end-of-year to everyone who DOESN'T celebrate christmas but still wants to be included! love you guys. i hope this was a satisfactory christmas present <3

[l0v3r666]

Mc inserts x TWST characters

(basically non-yuu pairings I think about instead of my inbox :p)

Ignyhide vice!Mc x Jamil Viper

Mc is probably twisted from one of the little demon goons, and it makes your contrast with Jamil charmingly obvious. You’re both vices in the basketball club with an outside connection to your wardens (you figured a physical activity’ll ward Idia’s eye away) and you both hate your jobs to a comedic degree. The connection is actually really sweet and subtle!! Atleast until book 6 when Mc is complaining about their ego trippy boss while basically eating out of Jamil’s hand, feeding him information like the layout and hierarchy of styx,, as Idia’s super exclusive assistant it’s only fair to give your guests a full tour!

“geez! And he just gets so flippy-floppy, yknow? He’s got this thing about energy drinks now so I’ve been diluting them, it’s such a pain!”

“It might just be a defect with housewardens. Have you ever heard of the incompetency theory?”

Card soldier!Mc x Malleus Draconia

okay picture this- Mc is comepletely wasted and coming off the high from a holiday party that was totally killer. You wander into the woods past campus and find yourself at a little abandoned cottage, it’s like 100% cozy enough to chill in before stumbling back to the dorms. You continue heading there for pregames/drunken shenanigans, meeting up with some hot guy that hangs around sometimes. You’re fully blindsided when your “little buddy” is kicking heartslabyul ass during a spelldrive tourney..

“Yoooooo, Mally, you must be really fun at parties. Want ta’ go with me?”

“I can’t say I’ve ever been invited to a “rager” before, but it sounds.. enjoyable. I accept.”

Ignyhide freshman!Mc x Deuce Spade

You’re a shaking mess during your first track meet. It’s a graduation requirement to take at least one gym class before the end of freshman year, and you’d rather die than take flight class with all those scary seniors!! Your vice had enough sense to convince you into not dropping out, he’d said that “track is low stress!” And “you’ll enjoy it” >:( you can’t believe he’d lie to your face like that!! (Is this the AI revolution??) You guess it’s not too bad though, you’ve even started strength training with a new friend. He’s a little short tempered, but it could be a lot worse.

“hey, I had no idea ignyhide kids were into track! I thought it’d be too much sun,,”

“We’re not vampires. I wouldn’t clown on you for the tea in your thermos, so lay off.. heh, there’s totally a dormouse in there.”

Scarabia housewarden!Mc x Leona Kingscholar

It’s pretty rare to see Leona of all people in your reserved pool chair, but plenty of weird stuff’s happened during your senior case study. You’re this close to getting your big shiny diploma- and a little rest now and then won’t hurt anybody! Savanaclaw’s housewarden has only had his position since last year, and you’ve held yours through all four. After knowing of each other for so long, it’s only logical that you’d become good friends! (Not that he calls you that)

“So you’re graduating, huh? Hope that brat you chose’ll fill your shoes, you’ve worked pretty hard.”

“awh, you’re such a sap,, I’m sure you’ll like Kalim, he’s no idiot. I promise to visit whenever you decide to graduate, but it’ll be a lot easier if i get that job in the castle!”

Octavinelle sophmore!Mc x Jack Howl

Poor Jack has to deal with everyone else’s business on top of his own education, when does he get a break? That ramshackle prefect’s looking for leads on how to beat those twins in the water, and only one face comes to mind. You’re his coworker at his temp job, and you owe him a favour (atleast from your perspective, he doesn’t hold it over your head) because with your grades Azul’s got it out for you. He’s begging for you to help him out- and who are you to deny those puppy eyes?

“Jack you can’t tell him! The housewarden’ll make me quit, I need this job! :(((“

“woah, it’s not like I’m gonna blackmail you.. what kind of guy do you think I am?”

Savanaclaw freshman!Mc x Epel Felmier

You’re lost, stressed and so confused in your first year :( it feels like everything is going wrong all the time!! It’s probably like 10x worse because you’re very tall and so built, but nobody cares to peer up at the cute giraffe ears on your head! You’ve been challenged by so. many. seniors. (and you win against all of them, you’re no pushover) but you’re tired of the beef. Epel just thinks you’re the coolest person in the room, and is always saying he wants to get freaky fridayed with you. But he doesn’t get the struggle!! Atleast Jack cares enough to tell him you’re just not liking it at school, and it makes Epel kick into action- he’s not letting you drop out, so please wait until he transfers!!

Pomefiore Junior!Mc x Rook Hunt

You’re convinced that Rook c. Hunt is the worst guy in all of twisted wonderland (C for creep)! And it SUCKS because he went from your rebellious savanaclaw boytoy to.. whatever he is. (How’d you miss the warning signs when you were tongueing him??) You can always see his stupid bob in your peripheral- but you’ve rationalized that if you watch him, then he only sees what you want him to see! It’s keeping your friends close and your enemies closer, just until graduation. And it does work, until you realize you’ve given Rook an inch that he’s turned into a mile. You’ll probably never get rid of him now, but what’s the point anymore?

“Ah, mon cher! You always enchant me with your passionate gaze, I’m honoured to be the object of your attention!”

“uh.. sure thing, hon. Whatever you say.”

Diasomnia Senior!Mc x Idia Shroud

You’re a highly educated noble from the mysterious land of Briar Valley. You are poised, weirdly formal, and utterly incompetent with your newest area of study- contemporary technology. You’ve tried to convince yourself that it’s pointless, they don’t even use it at home! But if you want to travel anytime before the collapse of human civilization, it must be done. you’re insatiable with your thirst for knowledge, and completely enamoured with having first hand experience with every era of mortal tech. It also happens to be almost impossible to revive your “Kno-Keya” once it has decided to die. That is where Idia Shroud comes in.

“In exchange for the revival of my electronic mailing device i am willing to offer an extensive dowry befitting of your station and technological necromancy skill. Will it suffice?”

“I literally only charged your phone, uh.. WOAH, A DOWRY?? I don’t have the space for five horses!! I’m totally not prepped for the marriage route, I haven’t seen the wiki yet!”

[cherrixpie]

HOW NOT TO DATE A SLYTHERIN

part four of five

↬ being harry potter's sister wouldn't make dating theodore nott any easier - which was why you tried to hide it. only, you could only lie to your brother for so long...

↬ sfw; fluff & angst; wc: 5.4k; cw: suggestive, partial nudity; secret relationship trope, potter!reader, griffindor! reader

The castle was alive with anticipation, the crisp morning air buzzing with excitement of match day. The first quidditch match of the season, Griffindor versus Slytherin, was to take part today. After breakfast, you would join your team on the pitch and -hopefully- win the game. The first game of the season had always been the most nerve wracking to you, but with the new layer of excitement of playing against your secret boyfriend, you were vibrating with anticipation.

As you made your way towards the Great Hall, the sound of distant cheers and chants already echoed from the grounds outside, early fans eager to secure the best seats. Griffindor red and Slytherin green clashed in waves of color as students of either house swarmed towards breakfast. Though you didn't stick out in your quidditch attire that was as scarlet red as the hats, capes and scarfs of the Griffindor fans, the people who noticed you wished you good luck for the match.

Rounding the corner near the staircase, you nearly collided with Theo, who was casually leaning against the stone wall, his broom slung over his shoulder and his emerald scarf lazily wrapped around his neck. You knew he had been waiting for you when your eyes met. After last night, you had been worried your argument would result in a permanent rift between you, but his eyes lit up when they locked with yours.

“Well well,” he drawled, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “If it isn't Gryffindor’s star chaser. Shouldn't you be off practicing some last-minute heroics?”

You pretended to be annoyed rather than filled to the brim with adoration and rolled your eyes, but you couldn't help the small smile that crept onto your face. “Funny. I was just about to ask if Slytherin had finally resorted to bribing Madam Hooch. Seems like the only way you’d stand a chance today.”

Glancing around the deserted booth under the staircase, Theo pushed himself off the wall and strode slowly towards you. You uncrossed your arms to take his hand, and there you stood, brooms in one hand, holding onto each other with the second. Finally, the subtle smile reached Theo’s eyes as he played with your fingers. “You’ll be great today.”

“You too,” you smiled with exhilaration and took a step closer. Your eyes darted around the small space nervously, but there was no one to see you. So you stood on your tip toes and pecked Theo’s lips softly. What you hadn't anticipated was Theo jolting and surging at you, chasing your retreating lips until he had them locked in a soft caress of his own. A surprised moan escaped you and Theo chuckled softly into your mouth. One hand held your jaw still as he kissed you senseless, the other trailed down to toy with the hem of your jersey.

Kisses with Theo were always a careful mix of fervent passion on your part and disciplined control on his. It was no different now, as Theo lead the kiss, caressing all the right places, balancing that perfect combination of tender and dominating. You fisted your hands in his shirt and pulled him impossibly closer. Suddenly, a cool hand closed around both your wrists, yanking them away and over your hand, making you stumble as your back hit the wall. One of Theo’s hand held your wrists in place over your hand, the other lifted your chin to gain access to your neck.

“Tesoro,” he sighed against your skin, “let me give you a good luck token for the match.” You knew what he meant, and your suspicions were only confirmed when you saw the hungry look in his eyes. You twitched under his heavy gaze and his eyes grew impossibly darker. “Theo… no one can see.”

When he used his index finger to draw a line down your throat towards your collar bone, he left a row of goosebumps in its wake that he took in with great satisfaction. The soft material of your quidditch uniform gave in to his pull as he exposed part of your cleavage. “They won't,” he promised in an impossibly soft voice. “I’ll do it where nobody can see.”

You could barely hear your whispered “okay” over the thundering of your heart beat. The fear of being caught paired with the thrill of anticipation and his dark, hungry eyes culminated in the uncontrollable beating of your heart against your ribcage, as if it wanted to escape from your body, to seek shelter in the meticulous hands of your lover.

Theo dipped his head down to the exposed skin of your cleavage and left a trail of pecks before he found a suitable spot. Biting down on it, he relished in the little gasp it elicited from you. As Theo worked diligently on perfecting the mark, you slipped your hands from his grip and buried them in his dark locks. In response, Theo let out a small groan and lifted his head, tugging up your jersey with a satisfied little smirk. “Now you’re ready.”

During breakfast at the Griffindor table, you kept tugging at your jersey to a point when Hermoine asked wether you were okay. You stocked it up to performance anxiety. When Harry, Ron, Ginny and you left for the quidditch pitch, several people all over the table patted you on the shoulders. Their shouted wishes of luck followed you all the way out of the Great Hall and down the grounds toward the stadium, where you were joined by the rest of the team.

Harry didn't bother with much of a speech, but after yesterday’s brawl, he seemed determined to wipe the smirk off of Malfoy’s face. A notion you couldn't object to. After revising your strategy, the team stepped out onto the pitch, where the Slytherins and Madam Hooch were already waiting. The hollers and booing of a green and red mass of people drowned out any other noise, like the splatter of rain.

The snowfall of the day before had been replaced by a thick rain that made it almost impossible to see farther than a few feet. Not very favorable conditions. You could barely make out Theo within the midst of the Slytherin players. Harry and Malfoy shook hands with particulars nasty scowls on their faces, before you all mounted your brooms and shot up into the rainy mist above. Madam Hooch released the quaffel, Ginny got a hold of it and the game was on.

It was almost impossible to differentiate between friend and foe when your vision was clouded by rain and mist. Your only reconciliation was that the Slytherins weren't any better off than you. It took at least ten minutes for the first goal by Slytherin that had only succeeded because an exasperated Theo had given up on the attempt to pass the Quaffel around as it would be inevitably lost to the mist or a Griffindor player, and did a lucky solo run, completely catching Ron off guard.

After some more failed attempts from both sides, Ginny finally managed to goal for Griffindor. You as well, a few minutes later, because one of Slytherin’s beaters flew into you full force, vision obstructed by the downpour, and Madam Hooch granted a free kick to you. But soon after that, Slytherin had the lead once more. As the game went on, it became increasingly hard to keep track of the score. Though you were pretty sure your team had earned sixty points, you had no idea how many goals Slytherin had. By now you were shaking and clattering your teeth and your hands felt frozen to your broom. If Harry didn't catch the snitch soon, you’d get frostbite.

Nobody flew in formation or followed strategy anymore. When Theo flew past you with the Quaffel, quickly approaching the rings, you took up the chase. You had lost sight of your third chaser for a while now, but you managed to attract Ginny’s attention, who followed you hot on your heels. Seeking cover, you let yourself drop to a few feet under Theo but did not lessen your speed. Waiting until he was only a short distance away from the rings and raised his hand with the Quaffel to dunk it into one of them, you made a sharp turn upwards.

It was risky, but you played on his protective instincts. Theo sensed an approaching figure and lowered his arm. You, on the other hand, shot towards him perpendicularly and caught him off guard. To avoid a collision which he -other than you- would have been able to pull through, Theo turned his broom in a rapid motion. Ginny used the opportunity to knock the Quaffel out of his hands. You caught it, locking eyes with a startled Theo for a split second, and the two of you set off in the direction of the Slytherin rings.

Steering your broom through green and red flashes, you accelerated your speed. Wherever your beaters were, they were doing a fantastic job, as you and Ginny passed through the Slytherins without any bludgers knocking you off your brooms, passing the Quaffel back and forth. When the rings came into sight, you took the lead, shielded your face against the rain to aim and threw the ball. It hit. But another thing hit, too.

WHAM

A sudden pain shot through your body and your hands slipped off your broom. It was so horrible you must have screamed, but your head and senses were numb and unresponsive. You were vaguely aware that the pain originated from your stomach region. That was all, before your body failed you and you could feel yourself falling into darkness.

“Open your eyes, idiota!”

You snapped your eyes open and the first thing you saw was Theo, hovering over you. Just then, you realized he was holding you in his arms and kneeling on the ground of the quidditch pitch. It could have only been a few seconds you blacked out, but judging by the stings and aching all over your body, as well as the fact you were lying beside the stands, you had knocked into the wooden wall of the stands in your fall, where he must’ve caught you. Oh crap. Theo had caught you.

“Get off!” you hushed, scrambling back to your feet even as pain shot through your body at the slightest movement. A particularly nasty ache made you stumble and Theo caught you once more, frowning at you. “Where does it hurt? Where did it hit you?” Oh, right. It must've been a bludger at last. “Can you hear me?” Theo asked and you registered the worry laced into every syllable. Raw, unconcealed fear.

“Y-yeah,” you gritted through clenched teeth and clawed at your side where the bludger had made its impact. It must've been shot from short distance, because rarely had a bludger hit hurt this bad. “Midriff, left side.”

When his hand brushed over the hurting spot, you let out a whimper of agony and Theo quickly retracted it. If it hadn't been for the pain clouding your mind, you’d have teased him for his visible distress. “Where's my broom?” you choked out and Theo looked at you incredulously. “You’re going to Madam Pomphrey, Tesoro. Now.”

“What?” you exclaimed, vaguely aware of voices approaching. You didn't have much time. “No, Theo, I need to play! One of my chasers has taken off, you’ll win! Wait, is that why you’re-”

“Cazzo , Tesoro,” Theo cursed, sending wary glances to the side. “I don't care about winning, I’ll throw the match with you if that's what it takes.”

Suddenly, a familiar voice shouted your name and Theo’s face hardened as Hermoine reached you, looking concerned and rather disheveled. “Are you okay? Madam Pomphrey is on the way.” Obviously under the impression that Theo was harassing you, she gave him a sinister scowl. “What are you doing here, Nott?”

Theo, who’d settled for a mask of indifference once more, let out a mere “tch”, set you down on the grass with a suspicious precariousness, and reached for his broom when-

“HARRY POTTER HAS CAUGHT THE SNITCH!” the commentator roared and you breathed out a sigh of relief. About time. “GRIFFINDOR WINS!” announced the speakers and even through the slashing and splashing of the rainfall, your ears were thrumming at the hollers and shouts from the Griffindors.

Though you couldn't see them approaching, soft thuds announced the arrival of your teammates around you. Out of the corner of your eye, you watched Theo walk over to his team where he ran into a furious Malfoy, gesticulating heatedly. “Are you okay?” Ginny asked as she and Harry kneeled down to your level. “That damn bludger,” Harry cursed, still holding the snitch. “That Slytherin beater hit you from a few feet distance, Madam Hooch should’ve given him a reprimand!”

“I’m okay,” you assured them and stood up shakily. Hermoine helped you support your weight. “Great job,” you told your brother, ruffling his unruly hair. “I was beginning to think we’d send an imposter in your place.” Even Harry laughed, though he still looked very disconcerted. “What was that guy Nott doing? Did he hex you?”

Oh, most certainly, yes.

“He caught me,” you said in a neutral voice, as if the mere mention of his name didn't have your stomach do cartwheels. Sceptical expressions surrounded you, but they all shrugged it off- all except Ginny. “I’d have gone after you,” she explained apologetically, “But Nott was shooting down like damn lightning and I didn't want to get in the way of that.”

“Weird guy,” you said in an effort to diffuse Hermoine's suspicious look. Harry stepped forward to support your weight, but you let go of Hermoine to demonstrate your walking ability. “I’m fine, I’m okay, just a little bruised up.”

Indeed, none of the others seemed very eager to concentrate on your injuries. Everyone was in the mood for celebration as they changed out of their quidditch robes, already planning the winners party. As they walked out one after the other, you volunteered for cleaning duties, an unpopular job, especially after a won match. “I’ll be there in ten,” you shouted after your brother and Ron leaving for the castle and shut the door.

With a pained groan, you sat down on one of the benches. You hadn't even changed yet, in fear of what you would find on your stomach. Earlier, Madam Pomphrey had cleared you while muttering about the dangers of Quidditch. She had recommended murtlap essence, and you checked the medical closet for it. You found a bottle of the potion and set it down on the bench. The sound of the pouring rain still pelting the roof of the changing room filled the quiet hair as you reached for the hem of your jersey, wincing as your shoulder protested the movement. You thought you were alone- until a quiet knock on the doorframe behind you made you freeze.

“Do you always take this long after a match, or are you just stalling?”

Theo's voice was low, but it carried a certain edge that hindered the casual tone. As you tugged your jersey down in a haste, you spun around to see him leaning against the doorframe. His hair was still damp from the rain, the dark locks were clinging to his forehead. The faintests of smiles tugged at his lips, but it was a little grim, matching the somber look in his eyes. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay,” you repeated the words you’d been echoing for the last half hour. You hoped a convincing smile would ease his nerves, but his gaze only sharpened when your casual shrug made you wince. “Don't lie to me, tesoro,” Theo said softly, drawing closer to you. He came to a halt and you frowned at the pained look in his eyes. “Bell is a maledetto coglione, Voleva ucciderti? Non hai idea di quanto desiderassi farlo cadere dalla scopa!”

Theo seemed to talk himself into a rage, rambling on in Italian as his careful hands brushed over your chin down your arms, inspecting your bruises and cuts. You wouldn't deny that you loved to hear him talk Italian, especially when his quiet voice was brimming with controlled fury. Fiddling with the hem of your jersey, you searched for his eyes but he didn't meet yours. “Theo?” you asked, locking your fingers so he would stop with his inspection. “Don't put Bell in the hospital wing again, yeah?”

Theo glared at you and freed his hand to guide you down onto the bench. “Take off your shirt.” Even though it was a purely practical request, you felt a surge of excitement and nervousness. You froze for a second, then held onto the hem of your jersey and attempted to pull it over your head, but flinched at the pain. Theo helped you, carefully prying it off of you.

Theo’s hands froze the moment the jersey slipped over your head, leaving your skin bare save for the bruises blooming across your ribs and shoulders. His usual sharp retorts or smirking comments were conspicuously absent as his eyes lingered, first on the angry purple marks and then, almost hesitantly, on the soft curve of your body.

He swallowed hard, his fingers brushing your arm lightly as if unsure where to look or how to act. “You’re… very hurt,” he murmured finally, his voice quieter than you’d ever heard it, but there was a flicker of something else -something unspoken- flickering in his gaze before he quickly turned his attention back to the task at hand. He reached for the murtlap serum, grabbing the air at first attempt before pulling himself together and seizing the bottle and a cloth.

No words were exchanged as he started tending to your bruises, first the large one on your midriff that was the color of an angry red. When his soft fingers, dapped in murtlap essence, touched your skin, you took a sharp inhale and breathed rapidly. Theo could have smothered himself for the lingering of his eyes on your chest. He attempted to keep his focus on you and started treating the bruise.

You felt the relief of pain in an instant and sighed. “Thanks, Theo.” A light grunt was all you got in response, but the tender care of his fingers was answer enough. Though the murtlap was cool, his his touch left you uncomfortably warm and you tried not to squirm under his deft fingers.

The topic of intimacy was still a shy topic in your relationship. You knew his prior liaisons had been primarily sexual. Thus, you avoided the topic, seeing as your experience was almost none next to his. In any of your relationships, you had never gone beyond kissing and making out, and didn't know wether Theo even knew you were a virgin, let alone wether he’d want to have sex with you after hearing it. Theo had never initiated anything either, seeming perfectly content with your relationship as it was. But you couldn't deny the occasional hunger, the daydreams, the not so innocent thoughts.

Theo’s voice caught your attention. His brows were furrowed as he worked on your scratches from the fall. “Should’ve kept looking out for bludgers, cara. Stupid gryffindor recklessness.” When you recognized the worry in his voice, you smiled and ran a hand through his damp hair. “I’ll make sure to do that.” He seemed content and locked your fingers. “Shirt goes on again, tesoro.”

The itching when you pulled your shirt over your head was nothing compared to the pain from before. As your eyes appeared over your collar once more, you saw Theo had stood up and was putting the murtlap essence back to its place of origin with a lot more fuzz than the task required. Maybe it was just your imagination playing tricks on you, but he seemed to avert his eyes and avoided to look at you.

Before you could contemplate this, Theo had turned around once more and handed you your cloak. “We should get back to our teams before our absence is noticed.” You would have liked to say something to diffuse the light hint of bitterness in his voice, but Theo gave you a calming smile and was out of the door in an instant. Still, the rain brewed up a symphony on the roof of the changing rooms, but your own thoughts sounded too loud for you to notice.

The Gryffindor common room was a cacophony of sound and color, the flickering firelight mingling with enchanted banners that decked the walls in red and gold. Laughter and cheers echoed from every corner, the victorious chants of your teammates nearly drowning out the music. The smell of butterbeer wafted through the room, mixing with the damp, earthy scent of post-match rain that still clung to everyone’s robes.

You smiled faintly as Seamus led an exaggerated reenactment of the game on a table, nearly knocking over a platter of snacks, but the sheer noise of it all pressed against your temples, leaving you torn between wanting to join the celebration and retreating to somewhere quiet. When Seamus started pulling out fireworks, you slipped out of the room through the portrait hole for a quick withdrawal.

Knowing that some of the others, including your friends, had sneaked down to the kitchens to supply the party with more butterbeer and snacks, you took the path down to the dungeons. Though you tread lightly to avoid detection by Filch or Mrs Norris, the sound of your footsteps echoed of the walls as you hurried down the stairs. It was wonderfully quiet, a stark contrast to the hustle and bustle of the Griffindor common room, and you relished in the fresh, cool air that turned more moist the deeper you went.

Just as you were about to turn around a corner, you collided with a hard chest. Your prior speed made you stumble and you fell, closing your eyes and shielding yourself for the impact. It didn't come. Opening your eyes, your were met with the infamous raised eyebrow of Theodore Nott, hovering only inches above you. You could be slapped yourself for the breathless “Hi” that escaped you, but it made his lips curl with cold amusement. “Hello, tesoro, where are you off to in such a haste?”

“Kitchens,” you said sheepishly as he pulled you back up and steadied you on your feet. Theo threw a quick glance around the corridor before he slipped his hands into his pockets and switched to a more relaxed stand. Under his heavy gaze, you played with your fingers, trying not to think about the way he had been looking at you in the changing rooms “I forgot to tell you before, you played good,” Theo complimented you softly.

“Thanks,” you smiled. It was a weird situation. Usually, the two of you only talked like this in secret corridors, abandoned classrooms, locked broom cupboards or the astronomy tower, not out in the open. But it was night, and you supposed it was fine. And even if… You had been contemplating it ever since your argument yesterday. Would it be the end of the world if you just talked to Harry and the others about it? Even if they disapproved, you didn't want Theo to feel like an accessory, and sneaking around was not as fun as you thought.

Theo seemed to sense your thoughts had wandered off elsewhere and stepped towards you until your chests almost touched. When he flicked your forehead, you flinched and swatted his hand away. “Hey!”

“What are you thinking about?” Theo asked in a soft but demanding tone. You sighed. “Nothing.” But Theo was not thrown off the scent so easily. Deliberate hands wandered to your hips as he prepared for the attack, but you were faster. You gripped the collar of his shirt, pulled him down by it and kissed him.

The reaction was immediate. You were pulled flush against his body, his hands roamed under your shirt to your bare back making you shudder. “Jeez, Nott, your hands are ice cold,” you mumbled between kisses, but Theo pushed you back against the wall and seized your lips, swallowing every sound, every whimper that fell from them eagerly. You noticed that he avoided your bruised spots as his hands trailed over your bare skin and couldn't help the rush of affection that surged through you at his care.

“Someone could see us,” Theo muttered into the kiss, but you merely whimpered needily and buried your hands in his soft curls. “Then they see us.” The answer seemed to spur him on. It was as if it had awakened some primal part of him, tucked away behind his usual composure. The kiss turned messy as your lips clashed into each other without the usual rhyme and reason. When your eyes met his for a split second, you saw the dark hunger swirling inside them and breathed in shakily. It only seemed to spur him on even more as his head dipped back down and you felt his thigh coming up between your legs, eliciting a pathetic little whimper from you.

“What the bloody hell is going on here?”

Theo and you surged apart, or rather, you scrambled away and he made sure you didn't trip and fall in your haste to put some space between the two of you. Harry, Ron and Hermoine, as well as some other embarrassed looking griffindors, stood a few feet away from you, having just rounded the corner. Their arms were full of pastries, snacks and bottles of butterbeer and lemonade, safe for Harry's, who seemed to have dropped his load at the sight of you and Theo.

“What's it look like I'm doing?” you asked, chest heaving and hair probably a mess. Glancing at Theo, you saw he had leaned against the wall, watching Harry with sharp eyes. The message was clear. He left it up to you to resolve this, but the second Harry stepped over the line, he was a goner.

Your brother shook his head wildly, as if he couldn't believe what was happening and planned to shake the image out of his memory. He called your name incensedly. “Tell me I didn't just see you snogging Theodore Nott in the dungeons.”

With a quick glance at Theo, you decided it was all in. “Would you rather have me snog him in the astronomy tower?” you asked, a hint of sass creeping into your tone. “Because that's what I've been doing for the last months.” Ron and Hermoine looked at each other incredulously, but Harry looked straight up furious as he kicked the pastries aside to step closer to you. When you saw the look in his eyes and caught Theo's slight movement in the corner of your eye, you suddenly began to worry about an altercation between the two. An altercation that, with all your love for him, Harry had no chances of winning.

Harry had caught Theo’s movement as well and turned to him abruptly. “If you think I’m going to stand by and let this happen, you’ve got another thing coming.” You could've kissed Theo for remaining where he stood without blinking, leaving it up to you to resolve this. “Look, Harry,” you tried the diplomatical route. “Would you just listen to m-”

“Do you even know who he is? What he stands for?” Harry cut you off. You were hit with the sudden realization that the footsteps of multiple people were drawing closer, and indeed, a group of Slytherins that had been awoken by the sudden noise appeared in the hallway next to you, watching the conflict with great interest. “I know perfectly well-” you tried to answer but again, Harry didn't let you finish. “His father is a death eater! What, does that excite you?”

“Excuse me?” you hissed and saw Theo shift slightly. “Are you even listening to yourself right now, Harry?” But he probably wasn't. Your brother looked just about ready to tear down walls and you began to doubt wether you could even reason with him about this. “That's a horrible thing to say,” you shot back, folding your arms over your chest. “And Theo’s not his father.”

“Theo? Oh yes?” Harry said angrily, ignoring Hermoine tugging at his robes in an effort to calm him down. “He's just as bad as the rest of them, I don't know how you could be this naive!”

“Is it impossible for you to even entertain the possibility that I can look out for myself?” You hadn't realized you were shouting now as well. “Would you, just for one second, consider that I have a mind and a life of my own? That I can be trusted to make decisions in my life without you chiming in and questioning them?” Your breathing was labored and you tried to calm down, lowering your voice. “Why can't you accept that this was my choice, and it's a valid one? Why would you think you know Theo better than me? Do you think I can't trust my judgement, that I'm just a love-sick, hysterical, stupid schoolgirl who can't descipher reality and delusion?”

“Maybe you are!” Harry bellowed and you flinched, a sudden wave of hurt crashing down on you.

“You say that again,” a voice, soft and eerily composed, said, “and you’ll regret it.” The words hung gravely in the air as everyone, including the groups of Griffindors and Slytherins, stared at Theo, stunned by the both deliberate and utterly terrifying tone of his voice. But the speechlessness didn't last long.

“After everything we’ve been through,” Harry hissed at you, hurt brimming in his eyes, “this is how you repay me? By sneaking around with him?” His fists were clenched at his sides and he paid no attention to Hermoine's pleas to just leave.

“This isnt about you,” you breathed, aghast at his nerve, “This is about me. For once, this is just about me! God, Harry, why are you being so self-centered? This has nothing to do with you!”

“It has everything to do with me!” Harry shouted, stepping even closer. “I just don't get how you could be so stupid! You think he cares about you? He’s a Slytherin- he’s probably using you!” His words were hurtful and they stung worse than the bruises from earlier, but Harry wasn't done yet. “What happens when he gets bored of you? Have you thought about that? If you think Theodore Nott is interested in you, you’re even more naive than I thought.”

You knew he didn't mean it that way. But it still hurt you. This assumption that Theo could never like you for you, could never be interested in you apart from the fact that you were Harry Potter’s sister. That there was nothing about you that made you special, or lovable. That you had no idea what you were doing and no agency of your own. Just a stupid little girl fooling around with something she didn't understand. He was wrong. You told it to yourself over and over in your head as you stared at him silently, watching his anger shift into something else. He was wrong, Theo liked you. Right? But what did he like about you? What was there about you?

You hadn't realized you were crying, you only registered it when Theo himself stepped forward. Apart from the most threatening death glare you had ever seen from him, he didn't attack Harry. His attention was fixed on you, as if he was waiting for your command. But you could only stand there, under the eyes of your classmates, as tears ran down your face.

Harry seemed to realize now what he had said and took a step forward, but you took one back and let out a dry laugh. No words came out. Even if you had some to shoot back, defend Theo or stand up for yourself, they wouldn't have made it past the lump in your throat. Swallowing hard, you took another step back, then another, and before you knew it, you were fleeing up the stairs, ignoring the shouts behind you. You didn't know wether they were directed at you, or Harry, or Theo. You only wanted to get away.

taglist: @annaisabookworm @empath-bunny @k0z3me @slutfordpr @aespaslut @kiarst @the-oracle-at-delphinitely-not @fakem0net @sammyreid @tulipsc @yasmin-oviedo @lazycrazyme @vratune @mariadvorak

[lechrts]

Oscar Piastri where he just can’t (and won’t) stop looking at reader and she’s just like hey so ??? what the hell r u doing

Ever Seen. ✷ Oscar Piastri

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x Assistant!Friend!reader

Summary: When he just can’t seem to keep his eyes off you, since you are the prettiest girl he’s ever seen!

Word Count: 2k

Disclaimer/s: just mega fluff tbh. lando cameo too idk.

Vera’s Voice! ohhhh boy i loved this one. first ever request :333 SMIRK. smile. thank u. hope i did it justice baef. mwah. enjoy!!! ^_^

Oscar was staring at you again.

You didn’t notice at first—you were too busy flipping through your clipboard, listing out his schedule for the day in your usual no-nonsense tone.

The paddock was alive with the kind of buzz that only a race weekend could bring, and you thrived in it. But while the engineers rushed past and the fans cheered in the distance, you felt the familiar weight of his gaze, and that now-familiar flutter in your chest stirred again.

“…and after the debrief, you’ve got a window for lunch before the media pen,” You said, keeping your eyes fixed on the notes in front of you. “If you want, I can go and grab you a salmon bowl, and then don’t forget that your Sky Sports interview is at 2:30, and—”

“—qualifying starts at 4,” Oscar cut in, finishing your sentence like he’d memorized it.

“Exactly.” You glanced over your shoulder to find him trailing a step behind you, his race suit half-zipped, his balaclava in his hands.

He was walking slowly, though, like he was in no hurry to actually catch up. His expression? That soft, quiet look that he’d been giving you for weeks now.

You stopped walking.

“Are you actually listening, or are you just pretending again?” You teased, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m listening,” he said, his lips twitching into a faint smile. But he didn’t make any effort to elaborate, and you caught the way his eyes darted away as if he’d been caught. “Ish…” He said with a subtle smile, finally stepping up beside you.

His voice was playful, but the way he glanced at you from under his lashes made your stomach flip.

This wasn’t new. The glances, the lingering smiles, the way he seemed to focus just a little too much on you—it had been building for weeks now. Months, even. And while you didn’t dare acknowledge it aloud, you weren’t blind to what it meant.

You just weren’t ready to deal with it.

Oscar had hired you as his assistant nearly two years ago. He’d claimed, in his usual deadpan way, that no one else could deal with him the way you could.

And while it was true—you knew his quirks better than anyone—you also knew what being his assistant really meant. It meant being with him everywhere.

From grueling race weekends to early-morning gym sessions to late-night strategy calls, you were the constant presence in his life.

It was only natural that you’d grown close. Closer than you’d ever been, even after years of friendship. And now, with every glance, every lingering touch, every moment of unspoken tension, it felt like you were teetering on the edge of something more.

But that wasn’t part of the plan.

Later that day, you found yourself in the driver’s room with him, running through his schedule again while he lounged on the couch.

He was reclined, one leg stretched out lazily while he idly spun a water bottle in his hands. You, meanwhile, sat cross-legged on the floor with your clipboard in front of you, your usual position whenever you needed to focus.

“…And then after the media pen, you’ll have about an hour before dinner with Zak and the team,” you explained, scribbling a quick note.

Oscar hummed in acknowledgment, but you could tell he wasn’t really listening.

You glanced up. “You’re not paying attention again.”

He didn’t respond.

Instead, he was watching you, his gaze soft and steady in a way that made your heart skip a beat.

“Oscar,” you said, your voice quieter this time. “What?”

He blinked, startled, and the faintest blush crept up his neck. “Nothing,” he said quickly, looking away.

“Liar,” you murmured, a teasing smile tugging at your lips.

Before he could respond, the door swung open, and in waltzed Lando, grinning like he owned the place.

“Am I interrupting?” Lando asked, His tone playful as his eyes darted between you and Oscar.

“No,” You said quickly, sitting up straighter.

“Yes,” Oscar said at the same time, earning a sharp glare from you.

Lando’s grin widened. “Knew it,” he said, his tone full of exaggerated delight.

Oscar groaned. “Don’t start.”

“Oh, I’m not starting anything,” Lando defended with a wide smile, his hands raised in mock surrender. “I’m just observing.”

“Lando—”

“You two should really try to be more subtle though,” Lando continued, cutting Oscar off. “The entire paddock’s talking about it.”

You felt your cheeks heat up with a quirked brow, but before you could protest, Oscar stood up, casually shoving Lando toward the door.

“Out.”

“So aggressive,” Lando said, laughing as he stumbled backward. “Alright, I’ll leave you two lovebirds to it.”

“Out,” Oscar repeated, shutting the door firmly behind him.

When he turned back to you, you were staring at him, wide-eyed.

“What?” He asked, his expression unreadable.

“Are people actually talking?”

Oscar hesitated, his jaw tightening slightly before his features softened. “Does it matter if they are?”

His words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken meaning.

And for a moment, you didn’t know how to respond.

Later that evening, after the chaos of qualifying and the non-stop media pen post interviews, you and Oscar found yourselves alone in his driver’s room once again.

You were stood in front of him, going over and planning out his schedule for the next day, while he sat in front of you, unusually quiet.

“…And then after the debrief, I think you should have a free evening before the sponsor event,” You said, your voice trailing off as you glanced at him.

He was staring at you again.

“What?” You asked, a soft laugh escaping your lips.

He didn’t answer right away but he stood up.

Oscar reached out, his hand brushing lightly against yours. The touch was brief, almost hesitant, but it sent a jolt of electricity through you.

“Uhm,” You said quietly, your heart racing. “Something wrong?”

His eyes met yours, and for a moment, the rest of the world seemed to fade away as he took the clipboard out of your other hand and set it aside, looking down at you.

“You know,” He paused, his voice barely above a whisper. “There’s a little wrinkle between your eyes when you talk. It’s the cutest thing.” The words lingered in the air, and you blinked, caught off guard.

“What?”

“This wrinkle,” He said, his lips curling into the softest of smiles. “It shows up when you’re focused. You always get it when you’re explaining something or organizing my life. Like just now.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but the way he was looking at you made it impossible to find the words. His gaze was steady and unflinching, a mixture of warmth and vulnerability that you hadn’t seen before—not like this.

“Oscar…” Your voice was soft, your chest tightening.

“Yeah?” His voice was barely audible now, his face inching closer to yours, as if he couldn’t stop himself even if he tried.

You hesitated, trying to ignore the way your pulse was racing. “Are you okay? You’ve been… different lately.”

“Different?” His brow quirked slightly, but his eyes never left yours.

“You’ve been looking at me like…” You trailed off, not sure how to finish the sentence.

“Like what?” He prompted, his voice gentle, but the intensity in his gaze was unrelenting.

“Like this,” You whispered, gesturing faintly to the space between the two of you.

Oscar exhaled slowly, his shoulders relaxing. “That’s because I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you something.”

You froze, your breath catching in your throat. “Tell me what?”

“That I’ve been in love with you for longer than I can even remember,” He said simply, like it was the easiest thing in the world.

Your heart stopped.

The words hung between you, raw and unfiltered, and for the first time, Oscar looked uncertain. “I didn’t mean to spring it on you like this,” He admitted, scratching the back of his neck. “But I just, can’t keep pretending anymore.”

You stared at him, your mind reeling. “You… love me?”

His lips twitched into a nervous smile. “Yeah,” He said quietly, his hands fidgeting at his sides. “I do.”

And just like that, the tension that had been building for months snapped.

Without overthinking, without letting yourself second-guess, you stepped forward and kissed him.

It was soft at first, tentative, like testing the waters. But then his arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer, and the kiss deepened.

The world fell away, leaving nothing but the warmth of his lips and the feeling of being completely and utterly seen.

When you finally broke apart, his forehead rested against yours, and his hands lingered on your waist.

His eyes searched yours, soft and full of wonder.

“Well,” You breathed, a nervous laugh escaping you. “That explains all your staring.”

“Can’t blame me.“ He grinned. “You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen. You even manage to make the McLaren kit look breathtaking.” He joked, his grip on your waist tightening as his fingertips traced mindless shapes.

You laughed, not saying anything. Instead, you just pulled him back in, your lips meeting his once more.

likes, comments, & reblogs are all appreciated!!! ^_^ and let me know if you would like to be apart of my permanent tag list!!! <3

extra vera’s voice! this is also an apology for the lando angst I posted last night. Ok? Ok.

tags! @planetpedri @halfwayhearted @wdcbox @freyathehuntress

[strnilolover]

there was something so attractive about the raw, unfiltered side of chris that came out when he gamed. the way his jaw clenched whenever the game got intense, the subtle furrow of his brows, and the way he muttered under his breath when things didn’t go his way. it had your thighs clenching—a wet patch forming in your panties.

you couldn’t help but let your gaze linger on him for too long, the ache to just—do something—growing stronger by the second. before you could second-guess yourself, you slid off his bed and padded silently toward his desk.

he didn’t notice you at first, headphones on and completely lost in his game. that suited you just fine. without a word, you knelt down and eased yourself under his desk.

“ma?” chris’ voice broke through as he lifted one side of his headphones, glancing down to find you settling between his legs. his brows lifted in surprise, but there was a flicker of intrigue in his eyes. “what do you think you’re doing?”

“jus’ keep playing,” you say, your voice breathless—hands sliding lightly over his knees, and creeping up his thighs slowly. his breath hitched, his legs stiffening under your palms. “you’re unbelievable,” he muttered, his lips curving into a faint smirk.

“maybe,” you murmured, your fingers brushing the waistband of his sweatpants. “but you’ve been sitting here too long. let me take care of you—please.” you say, your voice tampering off into a small whimper.

chris’ head tilted back against the chair, a deep chuckle rumbling in his chest. “yeah? wanna take care of me?” he asked. and you nod, your fingers dipping below the waistband of his sweats and beginning to tug them down. he lifts his hips, making it easier for you.

his cock sprung from his boxers, already red and leaking. the sight made you gasp, thighs clenching together once more. “look at you,” he murmured. “you really can’t help yourself, huh? so needy for me, baby.”

his hand came down to cup your face—thumb brushing softly over your cheek. the touch sent a thrill through you, leaning into his hand as your head tipped up. “i just want to make you feel good.” you whisper, his dark orbs staring into you. his thumb grazing the corner of your lips. his voice roughening slightly. “always so eager to please.”

a soft hum escaped you as you let your lips brush against his thumb, suddenly taking the digit into your warm mouth and swirling your tongue. his eyes dilated—chest rising and falling quickly as he watched you, his hand still cradling your face.

“fuck—such a good girl for me,” he praised. “go ahead,” he murmured, slipping his finger from your mouth. that was all you needed, your head tipping back down to his cock. your mouth watered, licking your lips before your hand reached out to grasp the base. a groan slipped past his lips as your tongue flicked out, licking his tip before taking him completely in your mouth.

you moaned around him, slowly bobbing your head up and down as you hollowed your cheeks. you were already taking him so deep—the sight of you on your knees, eyes peering up at him through your lashes, drove him crazy. one of his hands slipped to the back of your neck, applying just enough pressure to hold you there if he wanted.

chris leaned back slightly in his chair. “that’s it, angel,” he whispered. “takin’ me sooo good—ngh—like feeling me deep in here?” he says, the hand on your neck coming around to squeeze the front where his cock was bulging. his words made you wine around his cock, the tip hitting the back of your throat.

you picked up your pace then, hand pumping what couldn’t fit. chris’ head tipped back, moaning as his hips bucked—the action making you choke. “fuck ma—holy shiiit.” your eyes blinked as tears started to form, quickly spilling down your face as you continued to look up at him. the sight of his face just made you want to pleasure him more.

your other hand reached down to cup his balls, rolling them in your hand. a grunt resonated in his chest, feeling him twitch in your mouth. the pressure of your throat and the hand he held there felt so good. he tipped his head back forward, looking back down at you once more. hand coming out again to caress your cheek as he smirks down at you. “doing so—so good ma,” he moans. “fuck m’gonna cum.”

your mouth suddenly pulled off him, hand pumping quickly. “want—in my mouth, please.” you begged before returning his cock into your mouth.

“yeah? fuck—m’gonna fill your pretty mouth up baby.” he says, keeping his hand on your face as the other leaves your neck to sneak into your hair, helping you bob your head up and down. the sounds were so lewd—so wet.

his moans grew louder, hips bucking more frequently as he chased his high. “oh—fuuuck.” his balls drew tight as he spilled down your throat—hot and sticky. you moaned at the taste, happily swallowing everything he gave you.

after a moment, you pulled back, giving his cock a quick kiss before looking up at him fully and opening your mouth to show him. his hooded eyes watched you, heat coursing through his veins at your action.

the hand in your hair released you, but he still caressed your face, thumb wiping away the remaining tears.

“did so good ma—guess i gotta return the favor, hm?” he says, shuffling his pants back up before he grabbed you out from under his desk and lead you to his bed. his games being completely forgotten.

[kiwriteswords]

Omg based on the gifs you reblogged with our man and his tight shirts, could you write a story (maybe christmas) where Reader keeps buying Hotch shirts that are too tight and hes like why? and has to explain lololol

He's a little bit older...got a bit of a dad bod [Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader]

Masterlist || Ao3||Word Count: >1k|| AN: omg YES. YESS. YES. Merry Christmas to those who celebrate. The title is a nod to Sabrina Carpenter's Christmas Song! xoxo

Tags/Warnings: no use of y/n, dad bod Hotch, Hotch x His Tight Button-Ups, Christmas Morning, Christmas activities, Gift Giving, Established Relationship, BAU Reader, mentions of weight changes/body changes, Jack is present, age-gap relationship

Summary: You really...really love Hotch in his tight button-ups, so you choose not to size up this Christmas for his gifts.

Aaron Hotchner woke early on Christmas morning, the subtle glow of winter light filtering through the curtains. The tree in the living room twinkled with lights, the gifts beneath it carefully wrapped. Hotch was always the first to rise, a habit from years of early morning cases. Today, though, it was the excitement that nudged him from sleep. This Christmas was special—not just because of the holiday, but because he was sharing it with you and Jack.

You stirred beside him, a soft sigh escaping your lips as you felt him shift. "Morning," you murmured, your voice thick with sleep but bright with the day's joy.

"Morning," Hotch replied, his voice low. He watched as you stretched, the corners of your eyes crinkling with a smile. "Ready to see what Santa brought?"

You laughed, the sound as warm as the blankets piled around you. "Only if I get coffee first."

Hotch grinned, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead before slipping out of bed to start the coffee. By the time he returned with two steaming mugs, Jack was already rummaging through the stockings, his excitement palpable.

The morning passed in a flurry of ripped wrapping paper and joyful exclamations. Hotch couldn't help but feel a profound sense of contentment watching you and Jack. You had integrated into their lives seamlessly, bringing a lightness to their home that Hotch hadn't realized was missing.

When Jack finally settled down with his new video games, Hotch found you in the kitchen, tidying up the remnants of the morning’s chaos. He wrapped his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder. "Thank you for the shirts," he whispered, his breath warm against your ear. "But I think I might need a bigger size these days."

You turned in his arms, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "Oh? And why is that?" you teased.

Hotch chuckled, the sound deep and resonant. "Well, it seems I've filled out a bit more than I used to." He wasn't ashamed of it—his body had changed, but he felt strong, healthy. And if the way your gaze lingered on him lately was any indication, you didn't seem to mind the changes either.

Your smile widened, and you reached up to trace the collar of his shirt, the fabric taut across his shoulders. "I've noticed," you admitted, your voice dropping to a whisper. "And I have to say, I really like it. The way your shirts fit now... it’s incredibly attractive."

Aaron Hotchner felt a familiar warmth spread through him, a warmth that had nothing to do with the coffee or the fire crackling in the living room. He was acutely aware of the changes in his body over the years. He wasn't as lean as he had been when Jack was born, or even when you first met him. Getting older, his fitness routine was not quite what it once was; he sometimes worried about how these changes were perceived, especially by someone younger like you.

"Yeah?" he asked, a part of him needing to hear more, to understand how you saw him.

You nodded, standing on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his jaw. "Yeah. It suits you. It’s…really hot," you confessed, a playful smirk tugging at your lips.

Hotch laughed, the sound rich and full of genuine happiness. He pulled you closer, his hands resting on your waist. "Well, I'm glad you think so," he said, and then, softer, "because there's no one else's opinion I care about more than yours."

You blushed at his words, your eyes shining with affection. "Good," you said simply. Then, with a teasing poke to his chest, you added, "Maybe Santa should bring you some more of those shirts next year."

Hotch pretended to consider it, his eyes twinkling with mirth. "Only if Santa agrees to keep making comments on how hot they look on me."

"You have no idea," you laughed, leaning in closer. "Sometimes, at work, it's honestly a little distracting." Your voice dropped to a playful whisper, "There are meetings where I'm definitely more focused on your...shirt situation than the case briefings."

Hotch's eyebrows rose, his lips curving into a smirk at your confession. "Is that so?" he asked, his tone equally teasing.

"Absolutely," you affirmed with a nod. "Especially when you're up there giving a profile, all serious and command-mode with your suit jacket off... It’s a lot to handle," you grinned, poking him again gently.

Hotch's laughter filled the kitchen, deep and heartfelt. He pulled you closer, his hands resting on your waist. "Well, I'll have to make sure take the jacket off more often then, just to keep things interesting," he quipped.

"I'd appreciate that," you said, your eyes alight with mischief. "Maybe I'll even start a personal rating system for them. You know, to provide feedback."

"Looking forward to your reviews," Hotch replied, the warmth in his voice reflecting the warmth in his chest. This easy banter, the shared smiles, they made everything feel right.

This Christmas, like all the moments since you'd joined his life, felt complete. Hotch knew there would be challenges ahead, cases to solve, and long nights. But with you by his side, sharing whispers and stolen kisses between cups of coffee and Christmas lights, he felt ready for anything.

Tag List:

@zaddyhotch

@estragos

@todorokishoe24

@looking1016

@khxna

@rousethemouse

@averyhotchner

@reidfile

@bernelflo

@lover-of-books-and-tea

@frickin-bats

@sleepysongbirdsings

@justyourusualash

@person-005

@iyskgd

[babejinxy]

In love with you - part 2

Pairing: Powder x fem!reader

Warnings: friends to lovers, SMUT, kissing, fluff 

Synopsis: Powder had been your best friend for years, the two of you met when she was running from the cops when she and her brothers broke into and blew up an apartment in Piltover and you helped them escape. What you never imagined, is that the love of your life was always right there in front of you…

A/N: This is a fic about Powder from the alternate universe, it has nothing to do with Jinx.

🌟 English is not my first language, so I apologize if there are any mistakes.

Part 1

💙 @brocoliisscared @bbybubbles @cattjull

Powder was in her workshop working on a project with Ekko when you walked in, making her stop working and look back, she smiled when she saw you. You walked past Ekko, giving him a quick hi, and went to your friend. “Working too hard?” you asked as you wiped a grease stain off her face. Powder felt her skin crawling at your touch near her mouth. “How about a break? Movies, sleepovers, braids on hair? What do you say, huh?”

Powder just couldn't say no to you, how could she? After all, you were her best friend and the person she secretly loved, all she wanted was to keep you close, if not in a romantic way, then she would still have you as her best friend and could simply look at you, dream about you, touch you even if in a subtle way, a friendly way... That's why she never revealed her feelings, she didn't want to lose you, above all you were her best friend, she needed you as a friend too. “Ok, you got me with the braids,” Powder joked. “How stupid of you,” you said with a laugh. “You’re the one who said baby.” You always ignored whatever flared up inside you every time she called you pet names because it shouldn’t mean anything.

“Movies?” Ekko’s voice echoed from the other side of the room, you looked at him, “I don’t want to miss this, can I go too?” You knew that what he really wanted was a chance for a second date with Powder and maybe she wanted that too, but she was just being proud. In reality, you couldn’t know the dissatisfaction she felt inside when you happily agreed to let him go with the two of you. 

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖   𐙚  ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖  𐙚   ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖  𐙚   ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖   𐙚   ˖ ݁𖥔

Powder was sitting on your bed watching you as you put on your makeup, Ekko was sitting in an armchair in the corner of your room flipping through a physics book he took from your shelf. You took advantage of the heat to wear a short dress that showed off your thighs and highlighted your curves. Powder tried not to look too much or at least be as discreet as possible, but it was getting harder and harder. You took your cherry lip gloss and applied it to your lips, pressing them together to spread the lip gloss. Powder looked away and took a deep breath. God, how she wanted to taste the cherry on your lips.

“Hey Pow Pow, can you tie my dress, please? The straps are loose,” you asked as you sprayed on your perfume. She approached you from behind and pulled the ties of your dress to undo the bow and then retied it again, tightening the ties tighter this time. Her fingers brushing against your skin made your skin shiver, she on the other hand, made a point of touching your soft skin. She always thought about what it would be like to undress you, those thoughts drove her crazy.

“I love the smell of your perfume, it’s so good,” she said finally, resting her hands on your waist and nuzzling your neck to smell you. This was much more intimate than a best friend’s affection, Ekko would have noticed if he hadn’t been too focused on your book. Moments like this weren’t uncommon between the two of you, it happened sometimes. You ignored the signs because Powder was your best friend and this was just her way of showing affection and if you thought otherwise, it was because you were too needy and you knew it. Powder was nothing more than a caring friend who liked to compliment and touch a little too much.

You smiled and put your hands in hers only to remove them from your waist. "You should wear it once in a while since you like it." You said, moving away from her and grabbing your bag. Powder laughed a little to herself, either you were playing dumb or you were simply a fucking dumbass and didn't understand her advances on you or maybe... maybe you just didn't notice it because you didn't want her like she wanted you and that specific thought always brought her back to reality, that she was an idiot in love with her best friend.

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖   𐙚  ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖  𐙚   ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖  𐙚   ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖   𐙚   ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁

You arrived at the cinema and bought your tickets and popcorn. Powder as usual, bought a strawberry and cream milkshake. She sat in an armchair between you and Ekko. Of course he wanted the seat next to her. “When did this become a date between them and I was the third wheel?” You thought and laughed to yourself. “What are you laughing at?” Ekko asked, tilting his head to look at you. “Nothing,” you replied, pursing your lips. You looked at Powder and noticed that she was tense. You thought about making an excuse and leaving them alone, but you wanted to watch this movie too much for that.

The movie was about comic book heroes and the three of you shared this passion, so as soon as the movie started you were all very apprehensive and entertained. Or at least that's what you thought. You were the only one entertained by the movie, you only moved your hand to grab the popcorn and bring it to your mouth, your eyes never leaving the big screen. You didn't notice that Powder was looking much more at your legs, now very exposed by the dress that rode up when you sat down, she imagined herself between them. "Damn Powder, focus on the movie", she thought to herself. When she finally pushed her dirty thoughts away and focused on the movie, she felt Ekko's hand on hers and his gaze fixed on her. She understood what he was getting at and immediately pulled her hand away from his and kept her eyes on the movie. He snorted and adjusted in his seat to go back to watching the movie.

After a while, you rested your head on Powder's shoulders and your scent that she loved completely infested her and she had difficulty concentrating on the movie again. She wrapped her arms around your neck and you snuggled even closer to her. This gesture wasn't strange between you and not even to Ekko, he knew you were close and took it as a friendly gesture, just like you. Just like Powder knew it was, but wished it was something more.

You crossed your legs, making your short dress ride up even higher. This didn't go unnoticed by your friend and she tried to look away and focus on the movie, but it was too difficult, especially since your skin was crawling from the cold air conditioning in the movie theater. She thought she could make your skin crawl too. God, how she wanted you... She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She felt her insides aching. Was she really getting horny now?

Powder tried hard to change the focus of her thoughts, but it was very difficult with your breathing close to her neck, she looked at you and you were focused on the movie, she wanted to be able to hold your face and kiss you. What would you do if she did that? “I need to go to the bathroom,” she whispered and you pulled away from her. “The movie is almost over, are you going to miss the ending?” you asked in a whisper, but she shook her head.

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖   𐙚  ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖  𐙚   ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖  𐙚   ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖   𐙚   ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁

When Powder reached the bathroom, she entered an empty stall and locked the door by leaning against it. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying not to think about you too much, but it was too difficult and she needed to relieve herself.

She felt dirty every time she did this, but this was stronger than her. She closed the toilet lid and sat on it, she slipped her hand between her pants and panties and began to play with her own throbbing clit. She closed her eyes at the sensation and bit her lip to keep from moaning as she thrust two fingers inside herself. She sped up the pace of her fingers more and more as she thought about you, your smell, your damn short dress, your legs, she touched herself and imagined herself between them, eating you, fucking you with her fingers, just like she was fucking herself. Nothing would make her come stronger than that.

And then she thought about kissing you and tasting the cherry lip gloss on your lips while your pussy squeezed her fingers and that was when she came, cumming hard on her own fingers.

“Fuck,” she whispered when she was done, removing her fingers from her pants and wiping them with toilet paper. This wasn’t new to her, she’d touched herself plenty of times while thinking about you. But touching herself in a movie theater bathroom, that was new.

You were at the exit door of the cinema with Ekko waiting for Powder to return, the two of you were talking about the movie when she finally appeared. “What took you so long? You missed the end of the movie”, you said when she stopped next to you. “I don’t think milkshakes go with popcorn”, she said massaging her stomach.

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖   𐙚  ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖  𐙚   ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖  𐙚   ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖   𐙚   ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁

After the movie, you guys went to Zaun and stopped at Vander's bar and ordered some not-too-strong drinks. Gert wasn't working the night shift that day, which Powder was grateful for, so she wouldn't have to see her flirting with you again.

However, Powder's joy didn't last long. Your hexphone vibrated on the table and she could read the message that Caitlyn, your ex-girlfriend, sent you, 

"Hey sweetie, I miss u. I can't wait to see you again ❤️".

Powder never really liked any of the people you dated, but she tolerated them all. But with Cait it was different, she really couldn't stand her and never hid it and for some reason, Cait was the only girlfriend of yours who didn't like your best friend. Maybe she noticed something that the others didn't? You couldn't say, but the hatred between them was mutual and it only got worse when Cait cheated on you with Maddie, she always had a soft spot for younger girls.

You broke up with Cait as soon as you found out about her cheating on you and you were devastated by it. You saw her again two months after the breakup and didn't tell Powder because you knew she would get mad. Not that she was wrong, but you were too needy and afraid of breaking up alone, when in reality you just needed a little self-love.

“Y/n,” she practically screamed, “I can’t believe you’re dating her after everything she did to you.”

“Pow, I didn’t get back together with her, I only went out with her once after that and we text each other sometimes, we’re just…”

Powder sniffed and shook her head in disbelief, “Unbelievable,” she said softly before leaving the table, leaving you and Ekko alone. You looked at Ekko and before he could say anything, you went after Powder.

Ekko finally realized something that only you didn’t notice…

should I continue? 👇🏻👇🏻

merry christmas to all ❤️🎄

[hayatoseyepatch]

𝓓𝓮𝓼𝓬𝓻𝓲𝓹𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷: Nagi never made a big deal about the holidays, not something he had partaken in, but there was one tradition you had started with him that he could never resist. I mean what were the holidays without some sweets after all?

𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓻𝓪𝓬𝓽𝓮𝓻: Seishiro Nagi (Blue Lock)

𝓦𝓸𝓻𝓭 𝓒𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓽: 2.3k

𝓒𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓼: Nagi x Fem!Reader 𝓒𝔀: Minor food play (icing), praise, use of petnames, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, marking, written with plus sized reader in mind.

𝓐𝓾𝓽𝓱𝓸𝓻’𝓼 𝓝𝓸𝓽𝓮: Happy Holidays loves! This is my entry for the @pixelcafe-network's Secret Santa event as a present for @nagis-wife. The way I was so EXCITED to write this for you bambina I tried real hard to keep it a secret ૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა Honestly Nagi was so much fun to write for and I hope you enjoy my love!

Nagi catches a glimpse of you from the corner of his eye, the subtle way your tongue pokes between plump lips, a total look of concentration decorating your features as you pipe a line of icing on the border of your gingerbread house. Nagi’s parents had taken the “hands off” approach to parenting, meaning the holidays were often not something to be made a big deal of with their constant travel. Christmas had not really been anything more than some presents arriving at the doorstep of his apartment. So even into his late twenties, as he was now, he had never made the most of the holiday. The most he got was a paper star that sat on top of his cactus with some string lights.

You, yourself, hadn’t been the most festive person in the world. But the idea of Nagi having never engaged in any holiday festivities pulled on even your grinchy heartstrings. Your family may not have had much, and maybe the most you had to look forward to on Christmas was the tradition of your mom’s pancakes, but you wouldn’t give that up for all the presents in the world knowing what you could have been missing out on. So here you both sat, fully decked out in festive attire at your dining room table decorating gingerbread houses. It had become a tradition for you both throughout the years of your relationship, a little competition of sorts. Feeding into his ego to have a friendly wager to who could make the best house.

It was almost comical to look over at your boyfriend, his white hair fully pulling together the Santa suit you insisted he wore for the evening. While you looked at him with mirth, he was looking at you with a hunger for more than the sweets scattered across the table. The short elf costume dress hugged your curves in a way he couldn’t simply disregard. His mouth all but watering as he let his gaze slide down your form. The elastic of the red and green striped thigh high socks that you wore rested against plump thighs, making the flesh at the top more accentuated in such a way it made his heart race in his chest.

“Shiro? You’ve barely touched your house, at this rate I’m gonna win!”

Your voice held a teasing edge, completely unaware of the war waging in Nagi’s mind, his self control hanging by a thread. His cookie house was barren in comparison to yours, him too distracted by the way your finger slipped past plush lips to clean some icing that had dripped onto your skin. His daze broken by the sound of your phone blaring with an alarm, notifying you both that the gingerbread men that had been baking, the final touches to your houses, were ready to be pulled from the oven. Nagi watched with rapt attention as you sauntered your way to the oven, your outfit swaying with your movements, lis tongue slipping past his lips to moisten the dry skin as you bent over to retrieve the cookies from the oven. Eyes locked on the subtle lift of your skirt revealing more of the delicate skin of your thighs, the same ones if he really focused, he could see the faded markings between them that his mouth had left a few nights prior.

As if on autopiliot, Nagi stood to his feet, stalking behind you in the kitchen. You couldn't help but notice the heat of his gaze, the way his eyes seemed to drink in every curve of your body.

"Those do smell amazing," he said, stepping closer to you. He leaned in behind you as if all at once, his breath warm against your ear as he spoke. "Almost as amazing as you look right now."

His hand brushed against your lower back, sending a shiver down your spine. You straightened up, turning to face him with a blush on your cheeks.

"Seishiro, they’re hot you cant have them they’re still hot.”  you said, playfully swatting at his chest. "Now, let's decorate these babies. I have sprinkles and everything."

You said, a weak attempt to salvage your evening, knowing by the way his tone had dipped that the cookies were the last thing on his mind, You set the cookies on the counter with shaky hands as Nagi fully moved in behind you, his body pressed against your back effectively pinning you to the counter. You could feel the heat radiating off him, the strength in his arms as he reached around you to grab the icing bag that rested on the counter.

"I have a better idea," he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. "Why don't we decorate each other instead?"

His hands slid up your sides, his fingers teasing the hem of your skirt. His large hands rested on your hips, turning you to face him. You gasped, your heart racing as you turned in his arms to face him. Your eyes met, the air between you charged with tension and unspoken desires. "Seishiro..." you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper.

"What are you doing, Shiro?" He smiled at your response, lips curling in satisfaction at the tremble in your voice,  his eyes dark with desire.

"What do you want me to do, princess?"

His hands reached up as he cupped your face, his thumbs brushing over your cheeks as he leaned in closer, his lips just inches from yours. He can see it, the way your eyes drop to his lips. Can hear the way you swallow heavily in anticipation before he closed the gap separating you both. Nagi’s lips claim your own, his hand curling around the base of your neck to pull you even deeper into the embrace. The kiss was filled with need, desperation to feel your skin against his own. But this wasn’t a primal need, he felt it down to his molecules. He wanted you, needed to keep his hands on you, whether that was just in a simple holding of your hand or something more he couldn’t care less he just knew that he didn’t want you to slip through his fingers. Didn’t want to risk not feeling the euphoria of kissing your lips. It almost pulls a whine from his lips when you pull away, resisting the urge to surge forwards once more.

Hie eyes stared into your own as they fluttered open once more, hands slipping beneath your knees to perch you on the countertop, reaching behind you to grasp the bag of icing A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he used the other hand to guide your head back, exposing the delicate skin of o=your neck to him, piping a trail of icing along the column of your throat. Dipping his head down, he wastes no time letting his tongue follow the work he had just created. The sweetness of the icing combined with the taste of your skin had him rolling his eyes back. The feeling of your hand pushing the hat from his head as your fingers entangle themselves in his hair. Graning against your skin, Nagi laps up all of the sweetness that once coated your skin, trailing his lips down further, his free hand curling against the hem of the skimpy dress that concealed your breasts form the descent of his hungry mouth. Tugging down the fabric in one swift motion, he groans, pulling back to admire the exposed skin of your chest.

“So fucking beautiful, bunny.” He growls, eyes devouring you as lust swims in their stormy depths. He relishes in the way your nipples pebble due to the exposure to the cold air.

“And all fucking mine.”

As if to emphasize the sincerity of his words he brings the icing bag to the skin that lay right above your breasts, sloppily writing out the kanji of his name before tucking down and capturing a perked bud between his lips, tongue lolling against it, coming to a point to flick at the sensitive area before letting his teeth capture it. Pulling his head back to tug until releasing, pupils blows wide seeing the bounce of the plush flesh he was rewarded with. He was quick to give the other nipple the same treatment. Hands trailing from your ankles to your knees, forcing your legs apart further under his strong grip. He groans into your chest as he feels your hands on him hand making a trail up the inside of your thigh, thumb pressing against the hood of your clit before rubbing slow agonizing circles against your drenched center. His lips pull from the swell of your breast kissing up a trail to your ear, making no move to touch the icing that marked your skin.

“I was gonna be a nice boyfriend and get you all prepped to take my cock, bunny.”

He groans, pushing your panties to the side and sliding two fingers past your entrance with ease, curling them in just the way he knows would have your back arching. “But with the way this greedy cunt is sucking in my fingers I don’t think I’ll even need to do that will I baby?”

His chuckle is deep and almost cruel in your ear, Nagi wasted no time pushing the band of his sweats down to his thighs, cock springing against his abdomen, twitching at your following words. He leans forward palm resting against the counter as he cages in your form. Using is other to grab his cock at the base, rubbing it past your slickened folds, swiping the mushroom tip up your slit collecting your wetness, not that he needed the aid to slide in, being sure to nudge your clit with each pass. Having had enough of his own teasing he slides into your opening. Head falling back deep groan stumbling from his lips With one roll of his hips he was buried to the base feeling your walls suffocating all of him, head falling to the crook of your neck as he groans.

“Fuck princess, she’s sucking me in so good, god this cunt was made for me wasn’t it baby?”

Now that he was sunk completely in hie gives an experimental snap of his hips, the resulting pleas falling from your lips guiding each motion of his hips. He picks up the pace, angling his hips just right to nudge your clit with his pelvis. His hands hook under your knees, pulling you toward him until your ass was hanging off the counter so he could lay you back. Taking advantage of the new angle, Nagi presses your knees to your chest. The deeper angle also allowing you to be even more exposed to his hungry gaze, eyes locked on where you both met. Mesmerized by the mouth watering sight of his cock disappearing inside of you with each passing surge of his hips. Groaning a long growl of your name and a slew of profanities as the sound skin against skin and the squelching wetness of your cunt fills the kitchen.

“You hear that princess? How wet my cunt is for me angel?”

His hips don't falter, he keeps up his speed, though each snap of his hips hitting deeper with each pass, angling his hips just right to find that sensitive spot deep inside your walls, grinning maliciously when he does so, stealing any response you could have formed from your lips. He removes one hand from your knee, thumb swiping some of the icing that dripped down your skin. Once coated, slotting itself between your lips, eyes rolling back when your tongue circles the digit instinctually. His eyes roll back as you look up into his own, making a show of cleaning the digit and effectively coating it in your saliva.

“So sweet Sei, fuck. Need more daddy please.”

The desperation laid in your tone is more than enough to inspire his movements, especially when spoken around the skin of his digit still lodged between your lips. He slides the finger from your mouth, using the coated wetness as lubrication to rub tight circles on your clit. Hips picking up pace in time with the kneading. His lips leave your throat capturing a sensitive nipple into his mouth, sucking on it harshly, aiming to overstimulate all of your sensitive spots in tandem. Nagi out a loud growl of your name as the drag of your nails incorporated pain into the overwhelming pleasure he was feeling. The coil had been tight in his abdomen, but he would hold out, he wouldn’t allow himself to fall over the edge before you had. He picks up the pace once more, thrusts growing sloppy under the pleasure. His thumb quickens its pace pressing harder against the bundle of nerves. Gon on princess, come for me wanna feel those pretty walls clamp down on my cock.

“Fuck, bunny, just like that princess… Go ahead, come for me angel, gonna fill this pussy so good baby, gonna have you dripping. Go on baby fucking.. come. for. me.”

He accentuates every word with a deep harsh snap of his hips. He groans loud and deep feeling your walls slam down on his cock eyes rolling back as whines and whimpers fall from his lips as your own release triggers his own. His body trembles violently as he topples over the edge painting your walls white. He slows his thrusts, body shaking as he overstimulates you both just a little bit before his hips finally still. He releases your legs, quick to readjust your form wrapping you around him pressing a long loving kiss to your lips. He grips your thighs in strong hands, carrying you with ease back to the couch, resting you against him. Fingers carding through your hair as you rest against his chest, pressing a loving kiss to the dip of your temple.

“So, did I win our little decorating contest, or do you think we need a rematch?”

Dividers by @/saradika-graphics & @/cafekitsune.