#let's put the christ back in christmas--
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sharonisthebettercarter · 8 months ago
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BRUH--
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i had never been more fucking terrified of this man in my life he went full gotdamn feral animal for hugh campbell and i just--
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i love how he just moves slightly and it busts the vents even moar liek--
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CAMPBELL!!
listen.
this sparked somethin' in me somethin' terrible butt
i need a whole ass survival horror game based off the boys now.
it's just homelander vs the boys (one at a time) and the goal is to outmaneuver/escape him while he's trying to murder you (one of the boys). each character having their own special skill set to help them along--can possibly help each other *if* they survive.
you start as hughie, who has the least skill and have to go through something like a maze with zinc, helpless and unable to fight back as homelander tries to find you, and if he catches you--he kills you and you have to move on to the next character--make it harder. the next play can get the previous character killed.
i want his behavior to react dependent on how the player plays and whether or not the characters survive or get caught. i want him to make things personal when he can. each level gets more difficult and depending on what you do his bloodlust may get worse--
I WANT HIM TO BE IN NO RUSH TO CATCH YOU.
i want the final stage to be as billy and depending on whether or not homelander's killed all of the others or if they survived will decide how he responds to billy and vice versa.
i want it to be no good ending with easter eggs and twists and just completely off the rails utterly terrifying--
gaaaawwwwwwwwd someone please make it--
fun fact~!
they actually use zinc in the metal of vents (which is why he couldn't just x-ray them to find hughie--nice touch<3!!)
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arealtrashact · 8 months ago
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Why did I think it would be a good idea to binge the new Boys episodes all in one go right when they released at 12 am. Now it's three am, I have no episodes left and I'm sitting here like
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james-spooky · 4 months ago
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this is a test
#i’m bored i just wanna see how many words i can put in the tags like will it just keep going on forever or will they stop me like i know th#the tag limit is 30 ok so the iindividual tag limit is 140 characters that’s actually so rude i wanted to keep going forever and see how lo#g this could be but i guess we can do this 30 times ok what the flip should i talk about hm i was playing the guitar today but i rage quit#ause the song was hard and hurting my fingers! ermmmmm it was sunny ok this is boring let’s think of more exciting things to type hmmm acco#ding to all known laws of aviation- jk i’m not doing the bee movie script but can you imagine i think that would be funny hmmmmm words i lo#e podcasts so bad that’s a fact no one has ever know before my blog definitely isn’t all about audio dramas the people are definitely not a#ready aware of this jesus christ this is only the seventh one of these this is actually quite a lot of space i underestimated how much i ha#e to type btw there’s probably spelling mistakes in here somewhere or autocorrect has been annoying but i cba to retype anything so i don’t#care lolllllllllllll how do you feel about oscar malevolent i feel a normal amount actually (lie) yk what i really miss sam and colin alrea#y like i’m actually not okay i really hope we hear from sam again in s2 and also colin ngl i hope ur in the computers soz or not dead miss#im like a bastard my paranoid it king ok erm im running out of things to say um heartstopper s3 was crazy good i cried lmao i love gay peop#e so much it’s crazy i hope it gets renewed for s4 i need to reread the comics lowkey and the books they’re all so talented for being so yo#ng it scares me ngl !!!!!! the tmagp hiatus is getting to me slightly like february in reality is soon and not that far away for how podcas#ts go but seriously how am i supposed to live until then without knowing what happened. please colin be alive. ive only just realised i can#use fills stops. sorry that’s made everything a bit messy. i should’ve been doing this before. whoops. anyways. hi mutuals i love you all s#much i hope you enjoy my rambles and shitposts cause i enjoy yours very much! never think you’re being annoying i literally don’t care be a#annoying as you want posts as much as you want i am ur biggest fan <3 im getting a bit fatigued from typing like my mind is blank basically#now it’s just turned into a. stream of consciousness but i don’t really have any thoughts to put here idk if we’re halfway ermmmm omg it’s#lmost halloween how crazy is that time is flying by i kinda forgot it was october lmao. it’s wild how it’s basically almost christmas. like#what. that’s illegal. how is it wintertime again. what the flip. i miss summer already take me backkkkkkk. i hope my phone doesn’t crash or#smth cause i’ve not saved this as a draft and i cba to do any of this again. maybe i should save it. ok i will when i reach the next tag bc#ok it stopped me but i’ve saved it and holy jesus it’s a lot of text im just sat here giggling there’s really no point to any of this other#than me being bored sooooooooooooooooo (imagine if i just did the letter o for every character wouldn’t that be crazy) so wait there’s 140#haracters and 30 tags so what’s 30 x 140. someone hurry. i haven’t done maths lessons in two and a half years i’ve forgotten everything wai#let me get the calculator app ok im back it said 4100 characters so. i dont know how many words that roughly is but its. a decent amount. o#what the flip why am i wasting tag space with maths. i hate maths. my screen time has been actually soooooooooo bad recently like damn some#one put my phone in a block of ice please joshua gillespie style. my mind is running out of things to say. do i talk about myself. im james#im 18 which is weird cause wdym im an adult go away. ive run out of facts. i love podcasts and procedural dramas that stupid firefighter sh#w is my life unfortunately. i think chappell roan should be the queen of england instead of king charles. i dont like having a king cause#ho needs men in power not me. ok um this is the last tag equal rights for all. yolo. the time will pass anyways! thank u boredom ok bye gn:
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harrysfolklore · 2 months ago
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christ-max -mv1
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summary: you invite your boyfriend max to spend christmas with you for the first time, however, your family doesn't quite believe you're dating a formula 1 world champion. wc: 5.8k
folkie radio: HAPPY CHRISTMAS TO ALL OF YOUUUU! i hope you're having the best day ever with your loves ones. this fic ended up being longer than i intended but i hope you like it!
MASTERLIST | MY PATREON
You're nestled into Max's side on his couch, wrapped in the soft throw blanket he keeps specifically for these quiet moments together. The afternoon light filters through the floor-to-ceiling windows of his Monaco apartment, casting a glow across the room. Your feet are tucked under you, and you can smell the lingering scent of the coffee you both made earlier.
The Netflix show you'd put on - some random documentary about deep-sea creatures - has become mere background noise. Max's fingers are threading through your hair in that gentle way that always makes you melt, occasionally stopping to massage your scalp. .
"I can't believe the season's actually over," you murmur, tracing lazy patterns on his arm. "Feels weird not having to plan around race weekends anymore."
Max chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest where your head rests. "Yeah, but now we have to plan around all the end-of-year events instead. Did you see how many galas and ceremonies are coming up?"
"At least those don't involve you flying halfway across the world," you tease, tilting your head to look up at him. His hair is slightly messy, free from its usual styling, and you resist the urge to reach up and run your fingers through it.
"True," he agrees, then glances at his phone on the coffee table. "Speaking of events, I can't believe it's already December. Christmas is going to be here before we know it. Guess time flies when you're busy winning championships."
Your heart skips a beat. This is the opening you've been waiting for. You've been thinking about this for weeks, planning how to bring it up. "Actually… I wanted to ask you something about Christmas," you start, sitting up slightly to face him better.
Max's blue eyes meet yours, curious. "What's on your mind?"
"Well…" you bite your lip, suddenly feeling nervous despite knowing there's no reason to be. "I was wondering if you'd want to spend Christmas with me and my family this year? I know we've kept things private, but I really want them to meet you, and-"
"Wait, really?" Max interrupts, his whole face lighting up with that boyish excitement that made you fall for him in the first place. "You want me to meet your family?"
You can't help but smile at his enthusiasm. "Of course I do. We've been together almost a year now, and they keep asking why I'm always smiling at my phone." You playfully poke his side. "Which is your fault, by the way."
He catches your hand, intertwining your fingers. "My fault? I'm just being my naturally charming self," he grins, then his expression turns slightly more serious. "But are you sure? I mean, won't they be surprised when you show up with, well…"
"With a four-time World Champion?" you finish for him, laughing. "Actually, my dad might pass out. He's been watching F1 since before I was born. He has no idea I've been dating his favorite driver."
Max's eyebrows shoot up. "I'm his favorite driver?"
"Don't let it go to your head," you warn playfully. "But yeah, he's got your merchandise and everything. It's actually kind of embarrassing how much he talks about you during race weekends."
Max throws his head back laughing, and you can't help but join in. "Oh God, this is going to be interesting," he says, wiping at his eyes. "What about the rest of your family?"
"Well, Mom will probably try to feed you until you burst - she's like that with everyone. And my little sister Ruby, she's seven and she's going to have so many questions. She's in that phase where she wants to know everything about everything."
"I can handle questions," Max says confidently, then hesitates. "What kind of questions are we talking about?"
You pretend to think about it. "Oh, you know, probably things like 'How fast have you ever driven?' 'Have you ever crashed?' 'Do you want to marry my sister?'"
Max nearly chokes on air at the last one, his cheeks turning slightly pink. "You're joking, right?"
"About Ruby? Nope, she has absolutely no filter," you laugh, then soften your voice. "But seriously, they're going to love you. Just be yourself - the you I know, not the racing driver everyone else sees."
He pulls you closer, pressing a kiss to your temple. "I'd love to spend Christmas with your family. I can't wait to meet them." He pauses, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Should I wear my race suit when I meet your dad?"
You swat his arm, laughing. "Don't you dare! He'll actually faint." You settle back against his chest, feeling warm and content. "Thank you for saying yes. It means a lot to me."
"Thank you for asking me," he murmurs into your hair. "I love you."
"I love you too," you respond, smiling as his arms tighten around you. The documentary continues playing, forgotten again as you both start planning for Christmas, trading ideas and jokes about how to break the news to your family.
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You're sitting cross-legged on Max's bed while he's in the shower, your phone propped up against a pillow as you FaceTime your family. Your mom's face fills most of the screen, with your dad peering over her shoulder and little Ruby bouncing around trying to get a better view.
"Honey, we can barely see you. The lighting is terrible," your mom critiques, and you adjust your position slightly.
"Better?"
"Much better! Now, what's this important thing you wanted to tell us about Christmas?" Your mom asks, while Ruby shouts "Is it presents?" in the background.
You take a deep breath, trying to contain your smile. "Well, I wanted to let you know that I'm bringing someone with me this year… my boyfriend."
There's an immediate explosion of excitement. Ruby starts jumping up and down, your mom gasps dramatically, and your dad's eyebrows shoot up with interest.
"Finally!" your mom exclaims. "We've been wondering when you'd introduce him. You've been so secretive about this boyfriend of yours."
"What's his name?" Ruby pipes up, her face suddenly taking up half the screen as she pushes closer to the camera. "Is he nice? Does he like Disney movies?"
You laugh, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "Yes, Rubes, he's very nice. And his name is…" you pause, knowing what's coming. "Max. Max Verstappen."
There's a moment of silence before your dad bursts out laughing. "Good one, sweetheart. Now, what's his real name?"
"I'm serious, Dad. I'm dating Max Verstappen."
Your mom is trying to hold back her laughter now too. "Honey, isn't that the racing driver you and your father are always watching? The one your dad has all those caps and shirts of?"
"Yes, and I'm actually dating him," you insist, feeling your cheeks heat up.
Ruby's face scrunches up in confusion. "The fast car man? From TV?"
"The very same one, Rubes."
Your dad wipes tears from his eyes. "Come on now, what's next? Are you going to tell us you're best friends with Lewis Hamilton too?"
"Dad!" you groan, running a hand over your face. "I'm being serious! We've been dating for almost a year. I'm literally at his place right now!"
"In Monaco?" your dad asks skeptically. "Prove it."
You swing your phone around to show the familiar view of Monaco through the windows, but your dad just shakes his head. "Could be any apartment in Monaco."
"You're impossible!" you huff. "Fine, don't believe me. You'll see at Christmas."
Ruby presses her face closer to the screen again. "Will he bring his race car?"
"No, Rubes, he can't bring the race car," you say, softening your tone for your little sister. "But I promise you'll love him."
After a few more minutes of your family teasing you about your "imaginary Formula 1 driver boyfriend," you end the call with a mix of frustration and amusement. Just as you flop back onto the bed, you hear the bathroom door open and Max walks out, his hair still damp from the shower.
"How'd it go?" he asks, noticing your expression.
You let out a laugh. "They think I'm making you up. They literally don't believe I'm dating you."
Max raises his eyebrows, looking amused as he sits next to you on the bed. "Really?"
"Really. Dad laughed so hard he nearly cried. And Ruby, my little sister, just wants to know if you're bringing your race car for Christmas."
"Sorry to disappoint Ruby," he grins, then looks thoughtful. "You know, maybe we should've waited to tell them in person. The looks on their faces would've been priceless."
"Oh, don't worry," you sit up, wrapping your arms around his neck. "They'll still be priceless. Dad's going to lose it when he realizes all those times he was rambling about you during races, he was actually talking about his daughter's boyfriend."
Max laughs, pulling you closer. "What else should I know before meeting them?"
"Well, Ruby's seven and obsessed with Frozen. She'll definitely make you watch it and probably sing along too."
"I can handle that," he says confidently.
"And recite all the lines?"
"…Maybe not that."
"And act out the scenes with her?"
Max's eyes widen slightly. "What have I gotten myself into?"
You kiss his cheek. "Too late to back out now, Verstappen. You're stuck with us."
"Wouldn't have it any other way," he murmurs, pulling you in for a proper kiss. "Even if it means playing Olaf the snowman."
"Oh no, you'll definitely be playing Elsa. Ruby's very particular about casting."
The look of horror on his face makes you burst out laughing, and soon he's joining in too. As your laughter dies down, you can't help but think about how perfect this feels - being here with him, planning to spend Christmas with your family, even if they don't believe you yet. You can't wait to see their faces when you show up at their door with Max Verstappen himself.
"Hey," Max says softly, breaking into your thoughts. "What are you smiling about?"
"Just thinking about how Christmas is going to be interesting this year."
"Interesting is one way to put it," he grins. "Should I wear my race suit when we arrive?"
"Don't you dare! Dad will actually faint."
"That's kind of the point," he winks, and you grab a pillow to hit him with, both of you dissolving into laughter again.
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"Let me guess, another text from 'Max Verstappen'?" your dad teases from his spot at the kitchen counter, making air quotes with his fingers. He's wearing one of his many Red Bull Racing shirts, completely oblivious to the irony.
"Actually, yes," you reply, rolling your eyes. "He'll be here soon."
Your mom chuckles while peeling potatoes. "Honey, you can just tell us who your boyfriend really is. We won't judge, even if he's not a Formula 1 champion."
"Mom, I've told you a million times-"
"LOOK!" Ruby crashes into the kitchen, pointing at the TV in the living room where they're showing highlights from the last race. "It's YN's boyfriend!" She dissolves into giggles, clearly in on what she thinks is a funny joke.
"Very funny, Rubes," you mutter, but check your phone again when it buzzes.
Max: "Just turned onto your street. Nice neighborhood 😉"
Your heart starts beating faster. "He's here," you announce, heading toward the front door.
"Oh, we're still doing this?" your dad calls after you, amused. "Should I get my Max Verstappen cap for him to sign?"
"Actually, Dad, yes, you should," you shout back, slipping on your boots.
"Sweetie," your mom starts in that gentle voice she uses when she thinks you're being ridiculous, "you don't have to-"
The sound of a car pulling up interrupts her. You open the front door and step out onto the porch, watching as Max's car comes to a stop in your driveway. Your family has crowded behind you in the doorway, probably expecting to catch you in your "lie."
Max steps out of the car, looking unfairly handsome in his dark winter coat and scarf. His face lights up when he sees you, and you don't hesitate to run down the steps toward him.
"Hi," he grins, catching you in a tight hug and lifting you slightly off your feet. "Missed you."
You hear a loud gasp behind you, followed by what sounds like your dad choking on air.
"Missed you too," you murmur against his chest before turning to face your family, keeping one arm wrapped around his waist.
The scene on your front porch is priceless. Your dad's mouth is hanging open, his face pale except for two bright red spots on his cheeks. Your mom has both hands pressed to her face in shock. Ruby is the only one moving, bouncing up and down with excitement.
"IT REALLY IS THE FAST CAR MAN!" she shrieks, breaking the silence as she barrels down the steps toward you both.
Max laughs, crouching down to her level. "Hi Ruby. Nice to finally meet you. Your sister has told me a lot about you."
"You're real!" she exclaims, poking his arm as if to make sure.
"Very real," he confirms, looking thoroughly amused.
"I… you… but…" your dad stammers, still frozen in the doorway.
"Hi, Mr. and Mrs. LN," Max says, standing back up and guiding you and Ruby toward the porch. "Thank you for having me for Christmas."
Your mom seems to snap out of her shock first. "Oh my goodness, please come in! It's freezing out here. I… oh dear… the potatoes… I should… more food… I need to…"
"Mom, breathe," you laugh, as Max follows you inside.
Your dad hasn't moved an inch, still staring at Max like he's seeing a ghost. "You're… you're actually… the Brazil overtake…"
"Dad, no F1 talk yet!" you warn. "Let him at least get his coat off first."
"Right! Yes! Coat!" your dad says frantically. "I'll take your coat! And then maybe… could you… would you mind signing my…"
"Collection?" you finish for him, smirking. "The one you thought I was making up?"
Max raises his eyebrows at you, remembering your conversation about your dad's merchandise collection.
Ruby tugs on Max's hand. "Do you want to see my Frozen dolls? And can we watch the movie? Sissy said you've never seen it!"
"Ruby, let him settle in first," your mom calls from the kitchen, where she appears to be panic-cooking. "Oh God, is the food good enough? Do Formula 1 drivers have special diets? Should I-"
"Mom, the food will be perfect," you assure her, then turn to Max. "See? I told you they'd be cool about it."
Max tries to suppress his laugh as your dad continues to stare at him in awe, your mom stress-cooks enough food to feed an army, and Ruby continues pulling on his hand.
"Very cool," he agrees, pressing a kiss to your temple. "Though I think your dad might need to sit down."
"I'm fine!" your dad squeaks, then immediately sits down heavily on the nearest chair. "Just… just give me a minute to process that my daughter is actually dating Max Verstappen and I've been accidentally talking about my future son-in-law during every race and-"
"DAD!" you exclaim, feeling your face heat up while Max chuckles beside you.
"What? I'm just saying… all those times I said 'that Verstappen boy would make someone a good husband someday' and it turns out-"
"Okay!" you interrupt loudly. "Who wants coffee? Max, come help me with coffee!"
As you drag a laughing Max toward the kitchen, you hear Ruby start explaining the entire plot of Frozen to him, your mom muttering about needing to buy more food, and your dad still talking to himself about racing statistics.
"Still think this was a good idea?" you whisper to Max.
He pulls you closer, grinning. "The best. Though you might want to tell your dad to breathe before he passes out."
"Can we build a snowman after coffee?" Ruby calls out.
"Only if Max gets to be Elsa!" you shout back, earning you a playful glare from your boyfriend.
Looking around at your slightly chaotic but loving family, and seeing how naturally Max fits into it all, you can't help but smile. This is definitely going to be a Christmas to remember.
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The initial chaos has settled into a cozy scene in your living room. You're curled up on the couch next to Max, who has Ruby practically attached to his side. She hasn't stopped talking since everyone sat down, and Max, to his credit, is giving her his complete attention.
"And then Elsa makes this huge ice castle," Ruby explains, using elaborate hand gestures. "Can you drive as fast as Elsa runs up the mountain?"
"Probably faster," Max answers with a grin, making Ruby's eyes widen.
"Even in the snow?"
"Even in the snow."
Your dad, who's finally regained his ability to form complete sentences, sits in his armchair trying very hard not to bombard Max with racing questions. He keeps opening his mouth, then closing it again when you give him a warning look.
"It's okay, Dad," you laugh. "You can ask him one race question. Just one."
Your dad looks like he might cry from happiness. "The overtake in Brazil-"
"Which one?" Max asks with a playful smirk, and your dad launches into an enthusiastic discussion about racing lines and grip levels.
Your mom returns from the kitchen with a tray of hot chocolate and cookies, having finally accepted that she doesn't need to cook enough food for an entire F1 paddock. "Here we go. I hope it's okay, Max. YN mentioned you like hot chocolate."
"It's perfect, thank you," Max says warmly, accepting a mug.
Ruby immediately reaches for a cookie, then pauses. "Do race car drivers eat cookies?"
"Only the fast ones," Max whispers conspiratorially, making her giggle.
"Ruby, give Max some space to breathe," your mom says gently, noticing how your sister is practically in his lap.
"It's fine," Max assures her. "I have nephews. I'm used to it."
Ruby beams at this information. "Really? Do they like Frozen too?"
"I don't know, but I'm sure they'd love to hear your explanation of it," he says, and Ruby launches into another detailed plot summary.
You catch your mom watching the interaction with soft eyes, all her earlier panic forgotten. She meets your gaze and mouths 'He's wonderful' when Ruby isn't looking.
Your dad has moved on from Brazil to discussing tire strategies, but stops himself mid-sentence. "Sorry, I'm probably boring you. You live this stuff."
"Not at all," Max says sincerely. "It's nice talking about it with someone who understands racing. YN usually just tells me to stop being a nerd when I talk about tire compounds."
"Because you spent two hours explaining the difference between C3 and C4 compounds!" you defend yourself.
"It's fascinating stuff," your dad says eagerly, and Max nods in agreement.
"Oh no, there's two of them now," you mutter to your mom, who laughs.
Ruby tugs on Max's sleeve. "Can we watch Frozen now? Please? You promised!"
"Ruby, let Max rest a bit," your mom starts, but Max shakes his head.
"A promise is a promise," he says solemnly to Ruby. "Should we watch it now?"
Ruby squeals with delight, jumping up to get the remote. Your dad looks slightly disappointed that his racing talk is being cut short, but you can see him hiding a smile at Ruby's excitement.
"Fair warning," you whisper to Max as Ruby sets up the movie, "she knows every word. And she will sing along."
"As long as she doesn't expect me to sing," he whispers back.
"MAX!" Ruby calls, patting the spot next to her on the floor where she's arranged pillows. "You have to sit here! It's the best spot!"
Max obliges, settling down next to her while you stay on the couch, exchanging amused looks with your parents as Ruby starts the movie, already mouthing along to the opening music.
Your mom leans over to you. "I'm sorry we didn't believe you," she whispers. "He's lovely. And so good with Ruby."
"I told you," you whisper back, watching as Ruby explains to Max why Elsa has ice powers.
Your dad joins in the whispered conversation. "Think he'd sign my mug collection later?"
"Dad!"
"What? I'm just saying, Christmas cards would be sorted for the next few years…"
You're about to respond when Ruby shushes you all loudly. "This is the best part!"
Max catches your eye and winks, clearly enjoying himself despite being roped into a Disney movie viewing with a very enthusiastic seven-year-old commentator. Your heart swells watching him with your family, how naturally he fits in, how gentle he is with Ruby.
"Do you want to build a snowman?" Ruby starts singing along with the movie.
"Later, Rubes," you promise. "Let's watch the movie first."
She nods seriously, then turns to Max. "Pay attention to this part. It's very important."
"I won't miss a second," he promises, and Ruby beams at him before turning back to the screen.
Your mom reaches over and squeezes your hand, giving you a knowing look. Even your dad has stopped thinking about racing long enough to appreciate the moment – his youngest daughter sharing her favorite movie with your boyfriend, who happens to be the F1 driver he's been fan-boying over for years.
It's perfect, you think, watching your family and Max together. Different from how you imagined telling them, but perfect nonetheless.
"Shh!" Ruby whispers loudly. "Elsa is about to sing Let It Go!"
Max shoots you a slightly panicked look as Ruby starts to stand up, clearly ready to perform the whole number. You just grin and shrug. After all, you did warn him about the singing.
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Later that evening, you finally manage to steal a moment alone with Max. Ruby had fallen asleep during the third replay of Frozen, and your parents took her up to bed before retreating to the kitchen to finish some Christmas preparations.
You find Max on the back porch, leaning against the railing and looking up at the stars. The winter air is crisp, and you can see his breath forming little clouds in the darkness. Quietly, you step out and wrap your arms around him from behind, pressing your cheek against his back.
"Hey," he says softly, turning in your arms to face you. His hands find their way to your waist, pulling you closer. "Needed a little break from being Elsa?"
You laugh quietly, reaching up to brush a strand of hair from his forehead. "You were amazing with Ruby today. I think you're officially her new favorite person."
"She's a sweet kid," he smiles, then adds with a playful glint in his eyes, "Though I didn't expect to watch Frozen two times in one day."
"Just wait until tomorrow. She'll probably want to act it out."
He groans dramatically, but you can see the fondness in his expression. "The things I do for you."
"Mmm, and I appreciate every one of them," you murmur, standing on your tiptoes to kiss him softly.
Max responds immediately, one hand moving to cup your face while the other pulls you even closer. The kiss is gentle and unhurried, full of unspoken emotions. When you finally pull back, he rests his forehead against yours.
"Thank you," you whisper.
"For what?"
"For being so perfect with my family. For watching Frozen multiple times. For not running away when my dad started his racing commentary."
He chuckles, the sound rumbling in his chest. "I like your family. Your dad's racing knowledge is impressive, your mom's trying very hard not to mother me to death, and Ruby…" he pauses, smiling. "Ruby reminds me of Victoria at that age."
You snuggle closer, seeking his warmth in the cold air. "I was so nervous about telling them, and then even more nervous when they didn't believe me. But this… this is better than I imagined."
"Even with your dad asking me to sign his entire Red Bull merchandise collection?"
"Hey, at least he waited until after dinner," you laugh. "Though I'm pretty sure he's in there right now planning which items to bring out first."
Max wraps his arms more securely around you, pressing a kiss to your temple. "I love you," he says quietly, and your heart skips a beat like it does every time he says those words.
"I love you too," you reply, tilting your face up for another kiss.
This one is deeper, more passionate, until you hear the back door creak and quickly step apart.
"Oh!" your mom exclaims, looking flustered. "Sorry, I just… wanted to ask about breakfast preferences… but it can wait… carry on!"
She disappears back inside, and you both burst into quiet laughter.
"We should probably go back in," you sigh, though you make no move to leave his embrace.
"Probably," he agrees, but instead of letting go, he pulls you back for one more kiss. "Five more minutes?"
You smile against his lips. "Five more minutes."
In the quiet of Christmas eve, wrapped in each other's arms, you can't help but think how perfectly he fits into your life, into your family, into your heart. Tomorrow there'll be more Frozen, more racing talk, more of Ruby's endless questions, but right now, it's just the two of you, and it's everything.
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The winter sun is just beginning to peek through the curtains of your childhood bedroom, casting a soft golden glow across the room. You're wrapped in warmth, nestled against Max's chest with his arm draped around your waist. His steady breathing tells you he's awake before he even moves.
"Good morning," he murmurs against your neck, his voice still rough with sleep. His lips brush against your skin, sending shivers down your spine.
"Morning," you whisper back, feeling his hand slowly slide beneath your sleep shirt, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin.
"Sleep well?" he asks innocently, but his actions are anything but innocent as he presses closer, leaving a trail of kisses from your shoulder to your ear.
"Max," you breathe, caught between wanting to lean into his touch and knowing you should stop. "We can't… my parents…"
"Then we'll have to be very, very quiet," he whispers, nipping at your earlobe. His hand travels higher under your shirt, making your breath hitch.
You turn in his arms, ready to either give in or properly protest - though the way he's looking at you, eyes dark with desire and that signature smirk playing on his lips, makes you lean heavily toward the former.
"You're trouble," you murmur, reaching up to run your fingers through his disheveled hair.
He leans down to capture your lips in a heated kiss. "You love it."
Just as his hand starts to wander again, a voice pierces through the quiet morning:
"IT'S CHRISTMAAAAS!" Ruby's excited scream echoes through the entire house, followed by the thundering of small feet running down the hallway. "WAKE UP! WAKE UP! SANTA CAME!"
Max drops his forehead to your shoulder with a frustrated groan. "Your sister has impeccable timing."
"Welcome to Christmas with Ruby," you laugh, pressing a consoling kiss to his cheek. "I tried to warn you."
"YN! MAX!" Ruby's fists pound on your door. "GET UP! There are presents EVERYWHERE! And it SNOWED!"
"Five more minutes, Rubes!" you call back.
"NO MINUTES! NOW!" she insists, continuing to knock. "Mom said breakfast is ready and Dad made hot chocolate and I SAW A HUGE PRESENT WITH MY NAME ON IT!"
Max chuckles against your shoulder. "I suppose we should…"
"PLEASE!" Ruby calls again. "I promise I'll let you drink your coffee first!"
"That's quite the offer from her," you tell Max. "She usually doesn't allow any delays on Christmas morning."
"We're coming, Ruby!" Max calls out, sitting up and running a hand through his hair. "Give us two minutes to get dressed."
"TWO MINUTES! I'm counting!"
You can hear her dramatically counting down in the hallway, making Max laugh. "She's serious about this, isn't she?"
"Oh, you have no idea."
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The living room is a festival of color and chaos when you finally make it downstairs. Ruby's bouncing by the tree in her Christmas pajamas, while your parents are settled on the couch with steaming mugs of coffee.
"Finally!" Ruby exclaims. "I counted way past two minutes!"
"Sorry, princess," Max says, accepting a coffee mug from your mom. "But I'm here now."
"Max, sweetheart, you really didn't have to get us anything," your mom says, noticing the pile of presents he'd arranged under the tree last night.
"Of course I did," he replies warmly. "It's Christmas."
Ruby's practically vibrating with excitement as your dad starts distributing gifts. "Can I open mine from Max first? Please?"
At your nod, she tears into the elaborate wrapping paper, gasping when she reveals a beautiful wooden chest with golden details. "It's like a treasure chest!"
"Open it," Max encourages, smiling.
Ruby lifts the lid carefully, her eyes widening. Inside is a complete collection of princess dresses, each one a perfect replica from different Disney movies, along with matching accessories and a tiara for each one.
"The chest is magical," Max explains, kneeling beside her. "Every time you open it, there might be a new surprise inside. And look at this…" He reaches in and pulls out a small envelope.
Ruby opens it to find a letter with the Disney castle letterhead. "Dear Princess Ruby," she reads aloud, her voice getting more excited with each word. "You are cordially invited to spend a royal weekend at Disney World, where you will have a private breakfast with all the Disney princesses…"
She doesn't even finish reading before launching herself at Max, nearly knocking him over. "Thank you thank you thank you! Can I try on the Elsa dress right now?"
"After presents," your mom laughs. "Let's see what else Santa brought."
Your dad opens his gift next, finding an envelope that makes him pause. "Son," he says, voice thick with emotion as he reads the contents. "This is…"
"VIP passes to the British Grand Prix," Max confirms. "Including garage access, grid walk, everything."
Your dad has to sit down, clutching the passes like they might disappear. "This is… I can't…"
"And this," Max hands him another package, "is just a little something extra."
Inside is a vintage racing jacket from your dad's favorite driver from the 80s, signed and authenticated. Your dad actually tears up.
Your mom opens her gift next, despite protesting again that Max shouldn't have gotten them anything. She unwraps a beautiful pair of earrings.
"Oh, Max," she whispers, "This is beautiful."
Ruby, who has been surprisingly patient, tugs at Max's sleeve. "Can we do my princess breakfast now?"
"After we finish presents," you laugh. "And maybe we should have real breakfast first?"
"But I'm a princess now," she declares. "Princesses have special breakfast times."
Your mom shakes her head fondly. "How about pancakes fit for a princess?"
"With chocolate chips?" Ruby negotiates.
"With chocolate chips," your mom confirms. "Max, honey, how do you like your pancakes?"
"However they're made is perfect," he assures her, but your mom is already heading to the kitchen, muttering about making sure she has enough chocolate chips.
Your dad finally finds his voice again. "Max, this is too much…"
"It's not," Max says firmly. "You're… you're family now. Or at least, I hope…"
He glances at you meaningfully, making your heart skip a beat.
Later, after pancakes and multiple princess dress changes from Ruby, you manage to steal some time alone with Max in your favorite spot on the back porch. The morning sun has warmed the air slightly, but there's still a crisp winter chill that gives you an excuse to stay close to him.
"Your turn," Max says softly, pulling out a small wrapped box from his pocket.
Your hands tremble slightly as you unwrap it, revealing a velvet jewelry box. Inside is a delicate silver necklace with two intertwined pendants - a heart and a tiny racing helmet.
"Max," you breathe, touching the pendants gently. "It's beautiful."
"Look at the back," he says quietly, his voice carrying a note of nervousness you rarely hear.
You turn the heart over to find an engraving: "You're my biggest victory. -MV"
"I love you," you whisper, pulling him down for a kiss. His arms wrap around you, holding you close as if you're the most precious thing in his world.
When you finally part, you hand him your gift - a wrapped box that makes him raise his eyebrows at the weight.
Inside, he finds a handmade scrapbook filled with your personal moments - sneaky paddock kisses, quiet mornings at home, victory celebrations, and candid moments no one else has seen. The final page holds a photo from yesterday - Max on the floor with Ruby, both laughing during their third viewing of Frozen.
"This is…" he starts, voice thick with emotion.
"Wait," you say softly, reaching into your pocket. You pull out a key on a simple keychain. "I thought… maybe… if you wanted…"
"Move in with you?" he finishes, breaking into that brilliant smile that never fails to make your heart race. "Yes. Absolutely yes."
He pulls you into another kiss, deeper this time, one hand cradling the back of your head while the other holds the key carefully.
"MAX!" Ruby's voice carries from inside. "I need help with my Cinderella shoes! And then we have to build a snowman! A FROZEN snowman!"
You both laugh against each other's lips.
"Duty calls, Elsa," you tease.
"Only if you'll be my Olaf," he grins, pressing one more quick kiss to your lips.
"Always," you promise, letting him lead you back inside where Ruby waits, already changed into her third princess dress of the morning.
Your dad catches your eye as you pass, "If you don't marry this boy," he whispers, "I will."
"Dad!"
"I'm just saying," he shrugs, then heads outside to join the snowman-building committee.
Your mom appears at your other side, wrapping an arm around you. "He's right, you know. He's perfect for you."
You lean your head on her shoulder, watching Max let Ruby direct him on where to place the snowman's arms. "I know," you smile. "I know."
"Best Christmas ever?" she asks softly.
Looking at your family, and Max in the middle of it all, belonging there like he's always been part of it - you smile.
"Best Christmas ever," you agree.
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hylemorph · 1 month ago
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Anna and Friedrich in Nosferatu (2024)
In a previous post I mentioned how important I think Friedrich is in the story as a representation of the patriarchal ideal, and how it/he crumbles when confronted by everything that has been suppressed in Ellen (manifested in the unavoidable, terrifying form of Orlok). I also think he is a mirror to Orlok in some ways: he says twice how he just cannot resist Anna, he subtly frames his desire for her as an unwilling "affliction." He also defiles Anna's body and his sacred marriage vows by engaging in necrophilia, because his appetite for her is so consuming - he can't resist her even when she's not even there anymore. Ellen's necrophilic act with Orlok represents her unification with the parts of herself that are suppressed/rejected by the men in her life, good and bad. It's dark and fucked up but metaphorically transformative, and consent is absolutely central. Friedrich's necrophilic act involves no consent, no Anna, and it lacks any metaphorical power. He didn't accomplish anything, he just succumbed to his own horror and amplified it.
Friedrich's unhealthy approach to his relationship with Anna consumes them both, and I think this theme is especially evident in the way Anna's pregnancy is discussed. Friedrich tells Thomas that they are expecting but doesn't want it mentioned in front of Anna or Ellen, probably because it wasn't supposed to be public yet. In victorian times people would rarely confirm a pregnancy before the woman was "showing" both because it was considered a private matter and because miscarriage was way more common. But Friedrich tells Thomas early anyways, because he is excited and proud, which is understandable but also selfish in this context. Furthermore, Anna says that "little Friedrich" is "very hungry, just like his father" and later on after Orlok has fed on her, she passes it off as feeling drained by the baby. Even though she seems happy and loves her family, she associates pregnancy with being drained.
This alienated way of understanding parenthood is also evident in the way Friedrich and Anna treat their girls (Louise and Clara I think?) They obviously both adore the girls, but they ignore their terror and assume the monster they see in their room is totally unrelated to all the other scary shit going on, because they're just silly little kids imagining things, right? One girl literally says "I can hear him breathing under my neck!" and they beg Anna not to leave them alone at night, but they are just hushed and told that they're totally safe. It's exactly the kind of dismissal Ellen has been getting her whole life, and so it's not surprising that the girls are haunted by Orlok before anyone else. It's not enough to adore little girls, they will never be safe until they are heard and believed.
Anna as a character apart from her role as wife and mother is a bit harder to parse out, but I think she is also a mirror for Ellen. Ellen's spiritual power is the catalyst for everything that happens, and von Franz says that "in heathen times you might have been a Priestess of Isis." Anna's spiritual inclination is less obvious, but it's there: she seriously listens to Ellen and believes that she is perceiving something real, she just assumes it must be God. Later when she lets Ellen stay with her for the night, she says "God is with us Lenny, I know it." On some level Anna is also in touch with that supernatural, suppressed feminine truth, and she seems to see through the patriarchal facade that Friedrich represents to some degree. But ultimately Anna wants to convince herself and Ellen that the night terrors were just caused by Thomas' absence, and that Ellen just needed her husband back and all would be well. When Thomas does return and Ellen has her faculties again, Anna is very eager to put it all behind them; 'no more talk of demons please, let's just focus on Christmas and being a happy family'. Anna's downfall is that she puts all her faith in the Christian patriarchal narrative even when she can clearly see that there's more going on. Her faith in the Christian God contrasts Ellen's "heathen" spirituality - both women have an innate spiritual sense, but one is more willing to make it fit into the values of their society. Ultimately Anna was consumed by the horror of their alienated position in society just like Ellen was, she just died with less agency.
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littlemelaninfics · 10 months ago
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Just One More
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WARNING: Overstimulation, crying reader, language, fingering
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“No, no, no, no!”
There you are, 4 orgasms in and writhing wildly in Bucky’s arms as he continues to rub circles around your clit. You're trembling with tears streaming down your face while you desperately try to get away from the torturous manipulation of his hands. All he could do was smile as he keeps the cold, heavy metal of his left arm tight around you middle.
He kept pulling you back into his chest when you couldn't help but buck your hips and gasps for breath, “Bucky… please… no more, I can’t-”. He puts two fingers in your abused opening,
“Yes, you can,” he says sternly, mouth pressed to your ear. The bass in his voice vibrates the wires in your brain. He's all you crave.
He lets out a deep breath when he slides a third finger into your hole. You were helpless and at his mercy. Your hands are trapped behind your back, between your torsos with a red Christmas ribbon he found. Your legs were trapped between his so when you tried to close them, he just had to spread his wider. There was absolutely nothing you could do to stop him from playing with your sensitive pussy.
“Ohhh, I’m not done yet, Baby. Not yet.” He pulled his fingers out and went back to the same speed on your clit.
“Oh my god, Sir… fuck, please, don’t stop,” you moan loudly, trashing in his grip when the tight coil in your abdomen comes undone. Wave after wave of pleasure crashing through you. You're full on sobbing in blissful agony before going tractable in his arms. All your body could do was tremble from head to toe when he pressed his nose into your slick neck and finally slips his fingers out of you. He loosens his hold on your torso, allowing your legs to close a bit to give you a well deserved moment. You go to close them more when he cups his hand possessively around your pussy. He’s still not done.
You start to cry again; the combination of the tears and your whining making you sound so pathetic and helpless. He just eats it up.
“Noooo… Bucky, please, no more… stop, I- I can’t… please, no…”
“Shhh. You're doing so well for me,” he says, pressing his lips against your temple. "What do you say to get me to stop?"
He laid a light tap to your swollen petals, "tell, y/n. Stay with me."
"Brooklyn," you said in the faintest whisper.
"Why?"
"It's where we met...FUCK!"
He doesn’t wait another moment before slipping two fingers back inside your sopping pussy, making you cry out when they graze your ultra sensitive walls.
“James-FUCKKK!,” You drag out as you sit your head up to watch his attack on you,
"You want me to stop? Say it and I'll stop." He knew you wouldn't and he reveled at the fact that he had complete control over you. The fact that he didn't reprimand you for using his legal name meant that he was having way too much fun in this torture session to even care.
“No! Please don't stop…” His fingers reached the spot that undoes it all and your eyes roll back as you place your head back on him, completely quiet.
"Jesus fucking Christ," Bucky watches, mesmerized that it's him who's making you cum like this.
You whimper in his arms, gulping in large breaths that pass right by his ear from where my head is resting on his shoulder. Your entire body is trembling. Your sweaty skin sliding along his own when you try to wiggle away from his touch.
You stay like that for a moment before he presses another kiss to your temple. By this time, your eyes are closed and you're starting to come down. Your breathing stables until you feel a heavy, icy sensation start to travel back to your overused cunt.
"You've been such a good girl for me. I know you can give me another, Baby.”
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fadedin2u · 1 year ago
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christmas shopping
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MDNI 18+
summary: you go christmas shopping with ellie and things get heated in the victoria’s secret dressing room.
content/tw: afab!reader, fem!reader, nsfw, ass eating(r!receiving), cunnilingus(r!receiving), dom!ellie, sub!reader, sub!ellie for 2 seconds if u squint
notes: i can’t remember who wrote it, but someone wrote a fic about ellie fucking you in a dressing room and i needed to do my own take on it (btw this is barely proofread so sorry for any errors!)
you pick up a pink, lacy bra, checking to see if it's your size.
"els, isn't this so adorable?" you ask your girlfriend, turning around to gauge her reaction to the undergarment.
ellie has both hands full of the bags from previous stores you visited before coming into victoria’s secret. she was a great sport at first, thrilled to go christmas shopping with you, but you can tell that after hours of carrying around your shit and trailing after you like a baby duckling, she’s lost some of that enthusiasm.
“super adorable babe. wanna take it up to the cash register?” ellie suggests, trying desperately not to act as impatient as she feels.
you suddenly feel a little bad for making ellie watch you shop for so long, and you think for a moment before deciding to take pity on her in a much more amusing way than she could anticipate.
you pick up a few more panties and bras and start walking towards the dressing rooms.
“i just need to try these on first, i would hate to buy them and have to return them just because they don’t fit right.”
you look back at ellie, still standing in the place you left her with an exhausted look on her face.
“you coming?” you ask, smirking just a bit.
ellie perks up at that, realizing what you’re offering.
“fucking obviously” ellie says, walking quickly into the dressing room with you. she sets your bags down on the floor of the small dressing room, sitting on the bench.
“is this my reward for being your dutiful servant all day?” ellie asks as you shut the door and start stripping.
you roll your eyes, giggling, “no, your reward will come later tonight. this is just to hold you over.”
ellie’s eyes are locked on you as you remove your bra and panties, slipping on a pair of cheeky panties that match the pink, lacy bra you picked earlier. the underwear fit your body beautifully, which you’re secretly very thankful about.
you put the bra on and turn your back towards ellie, “can you do this up?”
ellie blinks a few times, knocked out of the stupor she was in, staring unabashedly at your ass.
“i’d prefer to be taking more clothes off of you, but sure,” ellie teases, doing up the back of your bra.
you look at yourself in the mirror, happy with the way the bra cups and shapes your breasts. clearly, so is ellie.
“god damn-“ ellie hands snake around your body to squeeze and cup your tits through the bra, her head resting on your shoulder to watch her groping you in the mirror, “i’m buying this shit for you asap. you look fucking criminal-“
you smirk a little to yourself, leaning back against ellie as she grinds her front against your ass, hearing her little grunts in your ear.
ellie starts kissing up your neck, one hand squeezing your tit with the other wrapped in front of your body to keep you in place as she ruts against you.
“please let me eat you out, baby, i’ll be so fucking good for the rest of this shopping trip- i’ll shop for 3 more fucking hours if you let me, just-“
you giggle, cutting her off. “go ahead. i knew what i was doing when i brought you in here.”
that’s all that ellie needs before pushing you up against the dressing room wall, gripping your ass as she kisses down your spine.
she drops to her knees, eye level with your ass as she squeezes the flesh there, kneading it through the underwear you tried on.
ellie can’t resist but press her face into your ass, moaning as she licks the lace fabric covering it.
“jesus fucking christ-“ ellie says before slapping your ass, breathing heavily as she watches the chub recoil and jiggle. you yelp a little, surprised
“i’m gonna fuck you up,” ellie says before pulling your underwear down.
“bend the fuck over, let me see that ass, baby. fucking present yourself to me,” ellie says, her voice slightly raspy as she slaps your ass again.
your cheeks are hot as you obey, arching your back as you bend over, your arms braced against the dressing room wall.
ellie wastes no time before eating it from the back, licking a fat stripe up your pussy.
“you’re fucking unreal-“ she whispers before pressing her face fully into you, groaning as she sticks her tongue down your entrance and bring it back to circle your clit.
you moan softly, your breath already shaky as she eats you out hungrily, nearly frantically. the sounds from ellie’s mouth, her slurping and lapping, is way too loud for these dressing rooms, but you can’t find it within yourself to give a shit right now.
ellie bring a hand around your hips to circle your clit with her middle finger, pulling her face back to admire your ass for a second.
“can i eat your ass, baby?” ellie asks, her voice hoarse and wrecked.
your eyes widen, looking back at ellie, “a-are you sure you want-“
“i fucking want to.” ellie says firmly, her eyes focused on your pussy and asshole.
you laugh a little, “sure, go ahead.”
you’re not laughing for very long before she licks a long strip from your clit to your asshole, circling her tongue around the ring of muscle.
you’re genuinely shocked at how good it feels, your hesitancy quickly melting away back into desperate need, “fuck-“
ellie laughs a little this time, “like that baby?”, continuing to lap you up and barely pressing her tongue past the ring of muscle as she moves the finger on your clit faster.
you’re wrecked, your face pressed into the wall pathetically, your legs shaking.
ellie brings the other hand that was gripping your ass down to your pussy, sliding in two fingers without warning.
“you take me so fucking well, baby, look at that-“ ellie says, watching her fingers pump out of you for a moment before going back to eat your ass, groaning into you as both hands work your pussy.
you moan and stuff your hand in your mouth to muffle it as you your hips jerk a little. ellie slips in a third finger.
“it’s okay, sweetheart- i got you-“ ellie in between laps of her tongue, “cum for me, fucking cum for me-“
you were going to anyways, but it’s great timing. ellie’s mouth and fingers launch you over the edge, pathetic whimpers muffled by your fist as your legs shake harder, heady pleasure rushing through your body.
when you come down, your legs nearly crumple, but she keeps a tight grip on your hips, keeping you up.
you pant heavily, face still smushed against the dressing room wall.
ellie laughs a little to herself, kissing your spine. “fuck… i’m gonna need to buy this fucking lingerie for you, aren’t i?”
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steveseddie · 2 months ago
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asking for a friend
written for @steddieholidaydrabbles | prompt: shopping | rating: t | wc: 1000 | tags: modern setting, meet-cute, steve works at target, eddie is a gay disaster, chrissy & eddie are best friends
read on ao3
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Eddie hates Christmas shopping.
Every year he puts it off for as long as he can only to end up at fucking Target on December 23rd surrounded by screaming children, mean parents, annoyingly loud Christmas music and more desperate last-minute shoppers.
This year is no exception but Eddie does have someone else to blame.
Steve. Target’s hottest employee.
Eddie saw him for the first time a few weeks ago. He was at the cash register, looking both sexy and adorable in a tight red shirt and a Santa hat as he wished customers a Merry Christmas with a smile that made Eddie’s knees weak.
Knowing that he’d probably embarrass himself if he tried to talk to him, Eddie left the store, flustered and giftless.
A few days later, he came back and the guy– Steve, according to his name tag– was greeting people at the entrance. Eddie didn’t even make it inside that time.
He made a few more attempts but Steve was always there. Restocking toys, fixing the decorations, dressing up mannequins. And every time, Eddie turned on his heel and left.
As Christmas approached, Eddie started getting desperate so he gave Chrissy twenty dollars to find out when Steve wouldn’t be working. She welcomed the money and the excuse to talk to Steve’s coworker, and told Eddie that Steve wouldn’t be here today. And even if Eddie hated the idea of shopping on Christmas Eve Eve, it was his only option.
At least he only has one gift left.
So of course that’s when Eddie sees him. Steve helping a little girl reach a Barbie from the highest shelf.
“What the fuck?” Eddie mutters, hiding behind a mannequin. He peeks around it to make sure he isn’t imagining things, after all he’s been thinking about Steve a lot lately so maybe–
Nope, that’s definitely Steve. He’d recognize that ass in those pants anywhere after watching him through the store’s windows.
“What the fuck?” Eddie repeats, balancing the gifts in one hand so he can call Chrissy.
“Hello?”
Eddie growls. “Chrissy, you bitch.”
“Hello to you too, Eddie.”
“Don’t be cute,” he snaps. “You’re a liar.”
“What?” She asks, confused. “Wait, where are you? I can barely hear you.”
Hell. “Buying Christmas presents.” Same thing really.
“Isn’t it a little late for that?”
“Duh! But I had to wait until Steve wasn’t working, remember? Well, guess who’s here?”
“Oh.”
“Oh?”
“I might’ve– gotten a little distracted talking to Robin and couldn’t remember if he said the 21st or the 23rd. Whoops.”
“You had one job, Cunningham!” Eddie groans. “I want my twenty dollars back.”
“Sorry, I spent them already.“
“On what?”
“Your Christmas present,” she giggles. “Hey, maybe this is a good thing. Talk to him!”
“Fuck no, I’m leaving. Fuck Christmas, it’s a capitalist consumerist ploy anyway.”
“You’re being ridiculous,” she says but Eddie is already heading for the exit.
“I’m not! I just don’t want to make a fool of myself.”
“Eddie–”
But Eddie doesn’t hear what Chrissy has to say because in that moment he knocks over a pyramid of toys and faceplants amidst the boxes, his phone and his gifts flying from his hands.
Eddie groans, both from the pain and the embarrassment. He can feel his face already starting to burn and he seriously considers staying there, buried in toys, forever.
At least until someone says, “Christ, are you okay?” and Eddie has no choice but to roll over only to immediately wish he didn’t when he sees Steve leaning over him.
“I’m fine,” he mutters. “What are you doing here?”
Steve offers Eddie his hand, his eyebrow raised in amusement. “Helping you?”
“I mean, here,” Eddie gestures around them. “You aren’t supposed to be working today.”
“That’s not what my manager told me,” Steve jokes while clearly confused.
“It’s what Chrissy told me,” Eddie says, letting Steve effortlessly pull him to his feet.
“Chrissy? The blonde who flirted with Robin?” He asks. “I was confused why she wanted to know if I had any days off.”
Eddie hangs a hand from his neck. “She didn’t. I did.”
Steve frowns. “So you could avoid me? Is that why you never came in or bought anything?”
“It’s just that I always embarrass myself in front of hot guys and I was trying to avoid that!” Eddie sighs. “Obviously, I failed.” Then he realizes what Steve just said and blinks. “Wait, you noticed me?”
Steve’s lips stretch into a flirty grin. “Of course, I always notice cute guys.”
“Oh,” Eddie says, hiding his blush by tugging some hair across his face.
Still grinning, Steve bends down to pick up Eddie’s gifts. “So, want me to ring these up for you?”
Eddie gestures at his mess. “What about the toys?”
“Don’t worry, I’ll tell Jason to clean it up,” Steve smirks. “He’s our newest hire. And he’s a dick.”
Eddie chuckles. “Okay.”
They bring the gifts to the cash register and Eddie tries not to blatantly check Steve out as he does his job. Steve’s wink probably means he fails.
“All done!” He says, giving Eddie his bag and the receipt. “Merry Christmas–”
“Eddie.”
Steve grins lopsidedly. “Eddie.”
“Thanks, um, Merry Christmas.” He waves awkwardly.
Then thinks, fuck it. He already embarrassed himself anyway. “Hey, uh, when do you get off?”
“Asking for a friend?” Steve teases.
“Nope.”
Steve’s face splits into a grin. “I’m done in an hour.”
“Wanna get coffee with me? There’s a nice cafe a few blocks away.”
“I’d love to,” Steve says, “I put my number in the receipt, text me and I’ll tell you when I’m on my way.”
Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up, he checks the receipt and chuckles. “Cool,” he says, stomach fluttering as he walks away, almost knocking over another toy display because he can’t stop glancing back at Steve.
But he makes it out without embarrassing himself and he has all his gifts and a date with a hot guy.
Maybe Christmas shopping isn’t so bad after all.
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honeyedmiller · 2 months ago
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Holidays With the Millers
a firefighter!joel miller x f!reader drabble
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series masterlist
rating: explicit. 18+, minors do not interact.
warnings: fluff, a lil surprise, illusions to smut but none actually described.
word count: 1.9k
synopsis: your first of many holidays in the miller household is better than you could’ve ever expected.
a/n: happy holidays everyone 🤍
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The holidays at the Miller household are… well, chaotically organized, to say the least. 
Turns out, Joel and Tommy put Sarah in charge years ago because they weren’t going to get in the way of a then-eleven-year-old who had a bright vision in mind but couldn’t execute it without the aid of her dad and uncle. 
Three years later, her curly hair bounces every which way as her bright green eyes scan the handiwork you’ve all done with a thorough inspection. 
You can’t help but want to laugh as you, Joel, Maria and Tommy all stand in a line—military style—as she looks between her checklist and the decorations that are hung up brilliantly. 
Once that familiar bright smile shines at all four of you, you know you’re in the clear. 
“Great job this year guys! Gotta give most credit to the ladies though,” Sarah snickers, and Tommy rolls his eyes while Joel barks a laugh. 
“Glad we passed the inspection, madam. Now get your keister upstairs and finish puttin’ your donations in the box I gave you,” Joel says, raising an eyebrow at Sarah. 
She salutes him with a giggle. “Sir, yes sir.” 
Joel had explained to you a couple of weeks back that the entirety of the fire stations in Austin got together and liked to do a toy drive for Christmas. It’s an annual thing, and all families of employees are welcomed to join in and volunteer. 
You went and bought a few toys and board games for the event, excited to hand them out. 
Joel looks down at his watch before looking back at everyone. “The event starts in an hour. We should get goin’ soon.” 
“You’ll be proud of me, brother. I brought my uniform with me.”
“You’re a grown ass man, Tommy. Knowing you I know Maria reminded you at least twice to not forget it.” 
Maria laughs and nudges Tommy in the ribs. “That’s exactly what happened.” 
You all laugh in unison as Tommy holds up his hands in surrender. “I got Dory brain. I don’t know what to tell y’all.” 
Joel rolls his eyes before looking at you with a smile, jerking his head toward the stairs. 
“C’mon pretty lady, let’s go finish gettin‘ ready.” 
“That’s not code for ‘let’s get a quickie in’ is it? Cus y’all really ain’t as slick as y’all think you are.” 
“Tommy!” All three of you say in unison, and your face heats before you shake your head. 
“Mind your business and focus on your own sex life, yeah?” Joel says before slapping him upside the back of his head, ushering you upstairs. You can hear Maria faintly scolding him and he just laughs before their voices drown out completely. 
“Jesus Christ, my brother is a pain in the ass,” Joel deadpans. 
You huff a laugh. “Better him than Andy and Cole. They’d say some even dumber shit and add fuel to the fire.” 
“Well,” Joel checks his watch again. “We do have an hour…” 
You give him an incredulous look. “Absolutely not, Miller. Hands to yourself.” 
He gives you a pouty look before it’s your turn to roll your eyes, heading into the bathroom to finish getting ready. 
-
You wish you would’ve taken Joel’s initial offer. You’re standing in the firehouse helping handing out the cookies you’ve made while subtly making eyes at your ridiculously handsome boyfriend in his uniform, joking with little kids while he gives out presents. 
You think back to when Joel drunkenly told you he wanted to have kids with you, and suddenly you don’t think the prospect is a little insane anymore. Of course, you want to have kids with him, but you’d at least like to be married first… and you’re only shy of half a year in a relationship with him. 
“I know that look. What are you thinking about?” Maria bumps you with her hip, and you flash her a smile. 
“How good Joel looks. How good he is with kids.” 
“Ah, the baby fever bug finally caught you huh?” 
“He’s actually the one who mentioned it. The night they went out. He came home drunk and said, and I quote, ‘we should have kids’.” 
Maria’s jaw drops as she looks between the two of you. “He didn’t.” 
“He did!” You laugh as you hand someone a cookie, smiling at the kid before looking back up to Maria. 
“Drunken words speak sober thoughts,” she says, shrugging as she wiggles her brows. 
“Right. And when’s that happening for you and Tommy?” 
“Please, that man needs to put a ring on this finger before I carry any of his children.” 
You toss your head back in a laugh. “Amen to that.” 
“Amen to what?” Joel asks, sliding up beside you. 
“Just girl talk. You all done handing out toys?” 
He eyes you and Maria suspiciously, but you toss a sweet smile his way and all seems to be forgotten. 
“Mhm. I actually came over here for a reason.” 
“And what would that be?” You quirk a brow as you put a hand on your hip. 
Joel pulls something from behind his back and hangs it over your heads. You look up to see mistletoe, and you can’t help but laugh at how adorably cheesy he is. 
“In front of all these people? You sure about that, cowboy?” You ask, putting a hand on his chest as he wraps his free hand around your waist, pulling your body flush to his. 
“You know by now I ain’t got a dang problem showin’ off my woman,” he says, inching his face closer to yours. 
His words make butterflies erupt in your stomach, and your face heats. He grins and leans in, pressing his lips to yours for a few seconds before pulling back. 
“I love you,” he says, pecking your lips twice more before moving back slightly. 
“I love you too.” 
And it hits you: for the first time in a long time, you get to spend a holiday season with your heart full of love with the most loving person. 
The lights shine a little brighter, the songs sound a little sweeter, and the Christmas magic has finally made its return back into your heart. 
-
Christmas came and went in a flash. As much as you love the holidays, it saddens you how fast they pass by. 
It was so nice to see Sarah so excited about opening her stocking and presents to see what you and Joel got her this year. She got some new makeup, clothes, and a vinyl player with some vinyls she’s been wanting. You also got her a certificate to get a manicure and pedicure done whenever she’d like to go. That sense of pure love poured into your heart when she gave you a tight hug and thanked you a bunch of times. 
You got Joel some new tools he’s been wanting, along with his favorite cologne and a few new clothing items. You also got him his absolute favorite coffee beans that he won’t allow himself to splurge on, so you decided to do it for him. 
The last gift was, in your opinion, a bit cliche, but Joel loved it. You’d bought some pretty red lacy lingerie with sparkles throughout the material and revealed yourself to him after doing your night routine in the bathroom. You gave him a much needed massage before he used his needy, skilled hands on you and gave you one hell of a blissful night as he unwrapped you like you truly are a present in itself. 
It’s New Year’s Eve now, and Tommy somehow convinces Joel to throw a party to ring in the new year. Everyone in your family is here along with a few of Joel and Tommy’s mutual friends, and you’re all chatting away while eating finger foods and sipping on drinks. 
Dick Clark’s New Year’s Eve special is playing on the flatscreen and there’s only fifteen minutes left until the clock strikes twelve. You’re chatting with your mom, Emily and Maria about Emily’s baby and how she’s doing before the conversation gets turned to Maria. 
“So how long have you and Tommy been together?” Emily asks her, sipping on her sparkling apple cider. 
“Two and a half years. Still doesn’t feel like it.” She laughs and looks over at him, her smile growing wider. 
“You think he’ll pop the question soon?” Your mom chimes in, and Maria shrugs. 
“I’m not sure, honestly. I mean, don’t get me wrong. That man has changed for the better within the past couple of years, but sometimes I have no clue what’s going on in his mind. When he thinks of something, he puts his whole heart into it and he’ll make it happen. We’ve talked about marriage before, but it’s not something that comes up too often.” 
“Maybe it’ll happen soon,” Emily says. You give her a look of confusion, but she doesn’t even meet your gaze. 
“I think I’ll probably know when it’s happening. I love that man with my whole heart but he’s terrible at keeping secrets.” 
You laugh as you glance at the countdown clock, noting that it’s only five minutes until twelve. 
Tommy comes up to Maria and wraps his arms around her shoulders, kissing her cheek as he whispers something in her ear. She nods and smiles at the three of you before standing up. 
“Ladies,” Tommy says with a smile, ushering Maria into the small sea of people. Josh finds Emily, and your mom goes to find your dad so you’re left to munch on the charcuterie board laid out in front of you. 
It isn’t until a minute before midnight that Joel comes up to you and wraps his arms around you as you stand in front him, giving your forehead a kiss as he smiles at you. You look around the room and notice Tommy and Maria are still missing. 
“Where’s Tommy and Maria?” You ask, putting a hand on Joel’s chest before your eyes scan the room once again. 
Joel smirks as he nods his head toward the backyard, and in the faint glow emitted by the Christmas lights outlines their silhouettes. Tommy’s on one knee holding something up as Maria’s hands cover her mouth, and it clicks for you. 
“Oh my god. Oh my god! You knew about this?!” 
You’re so giddy inside and you’re not even the one being proposed to. 
“Knew for a few months now,” he says with a deep chuckle. You look back over to them to see her nod her head yes before Tommy slips the ring on her finger. Your eyes well with tears as the indescribable happiness you feel for them courses through you. He leans in to kiss her passionately, and your eyes snap back to Joel. 
“Happy New Year!” Everyone shouts, startling you before you realize it’s finally twelve. 
“Happy New Year, darlin’,” Joel murmurs, tipping your chin so your lips can meet his. You wrap your arms around the back of his neck, getting so lost in his gentle kiss as your mind reels. 
So much has changed for you this year. You feel like you’ve lived twenty lives all wrapped up in three hundred and sixty five days, and falling in love was the last thing you expected. 
You’ve learned so many lessons this year, finally opened up your heart, and have taken a leap of faith that resulted in you being caught by the love of your life.
You can’t wait to see what the future holds with you and Joel, because you know it’ll be one that is full of security and love. 
You smile against his lips as you brush your hand through his thick locks, looking into his beautiful brown eyes that felt like home. That are home. 
“Happy New Year, Joel.” 
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taglist: @raspberrybesitos ; @nostalxgic ; @endlessthxxghts ; @punkshort ; @clawdee
@pascalpvnk ; @bensonispunk ; @merz-8 ; @darkblue-tennesseee ; @typewriter83
@lizzie-cakes ; @sawymredfox ; @keylimebeag ; @nandan11 ; @pedropascalsbbg
@pimosworld ; @yxtkiwiyxt ; @anoverwhelmingdin ; @kikaaauu ; @buckyispunk
@untamedheart81 ; @picketniffler ; @fluffygoffpanda ; @paleidiot ; @survivingandenduring
@party-hearses ; @pedrospatch ; @harriedandharassed ; @brittmb115 ; @sunnytuliptime
@frodofreakingbaggins ; @aceaubrianna ; @tangled-tumbler-blog-blog ; @bunniboo0015 ; @aerihina
@pedritospunk ; @ro-nahime-things ; @ananonymousaffair ; @just-mj-or-not ; @melsunshine
if you'd like to be added / removed from the taglist, please let me know!
-
divider by @saradika-graphics
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notjustjavierpena · 1 year ago
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4.0
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Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator
A/N: Aaaand Operation 4.0 has started.
Summary: Your cycle-app tells you that your ovulation is peaking at three in the morning.
Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader (no y/n)
Tags: +18, domestic bliss, the Peñas are trying for a baby, implied miscarriage in the past, piv sex, clit stim, breeding kink, dirty talk, praise kink, creampie of course
Word count: 1.9k
Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/53019580
4.0
Your phone lights up with a sharp blue light in the dark room. Along with the assault on your eyes, it brings along with it a pinging sound going off loud enough to wake you as if it were the noise of the baby monitor. You reach for the phone on the bedside table, unplugging the charger to check the notification in case it is anything important at this ungodly hour of the night. Besides you, Javier continues snoring without registering even the slightest disturbance. 
The screen lights up once more as you press it, making you squint with a huff as you read the text on your lock screen. You groan ever so slightly; it is your pregnancy app and it is telling you to try for a baby right now.
‘Feeling frisky? Your ovulation is peaking right now!’ it says, and behind the notification, you spot that it is 3:18 am. You suppose that some people are really that dedicated, and as you read the text once more, you wonder if you and your husband are those people. 
It is in the middle of January. You started trying for a baby around Christmas, and you immediately downloaded the app for an extra helping hand in keeping up with your cycle; it has not been the easiest to conceive in the past when you’ve intentionally meant to do it. Getting pregnant with Lucas was a process filled with tears, frustration, and anger whenever you took a pregnancy test and it only showed a single line. Inés was a different story altogether as it was also filled with grief from a horrifying night at the hospital and a shattering thought that there might have been four already at this point. 
Perhaps you should take your phone seriously. 
With a yawn, you put it down again and turn around to nudge Javier. He doesn’t wake up until you shake him gently, following it up by a loud whisper, “Javi.”
“Jesus Christ, what?” Javier groans, eyes not even open.
“It’s baby time,” you say with a tired voice.
“Now? Fuck, what time is it?” He turns onto his side to face you. 
“It’s twenty minutes past three,” you reply and reach down to slip out of your underwear. You fight the urge to fall asleep again, “Pants off, Peña. It’s now.”
“Ever the romantic…” He chuckles, eyes long slits from fighting to stay open. Yet he still manages to take a bit of control of the situation (if he hadn’t, you had probably offered to ride him), bending one of his legs to allow himself to come closer to you, “Turn away from me.”
You do as you are told, facing away from your husband and scooting back until your ass aligns with his crotch. You look over your shoulder in anticipation, desire slowly pooling in your belly despite the lack of spontaneity and adventure in somewhat planned sex. 
Javier sighs the same kind of sigh that he makes when you finally touch him but instead, it’s his own hand wrapping around his soft cock after pulling the waistband of his briefs to sit underneath his balls. 
You hear him stroke himself in the dark, letting out a breath when it starts working and he feels the first stirrings of pleasure. He is hard not long after, and you find yourself wet from hearing him fist his own cock for you. 
The blunt head presses against your cunt a moment later and makes you moan quietly at the intrusion. You rest one arm in front of you, bending your elbow to rest your hand under your cheek and grip the edge of the double bed with the other. 
Slowly, Javier enters you and moans behind you as well. He spoons you the same way as you sometimes sleep, and when he is deep enough inside of you so you are chest to chest, front of his thighs against the back of yours, he starts rolling his hips until you can’t help but make a noise.
The arm that he isn’t lying on slips around your waist and his hand splays over your loose t-shirt. He gropes you lazily, kneading one of your breasts as you slowly fuck in the darkness. Soon, you hear the squelch of your cunt mix with your deep breaths. 
“You like this, mi amor (my love)?” He makes a groggy attempt at dirty talking. 
“Mm-hm,” you whimper, mouth falling open in a silent groan when he hits something inside of you just right. Your eyes shut, a little line forming between your brows as he works his cock into you over and over whilst pinching and pulling at your nipple. 
When he does it again, you clench around him, and his breath hitches. He wants more of that, the hand on your chest sliding down over your waist to finally rest on the back of your thigh. He pushes gently and you take the hint to bend your top leg as far up towards your chest as it can go. Then he uses a little effort to dig between your thighs and rest his hand over where you are connected.
“Yes, yes, yes,” you nod repeatedly without him being able to see. The bliss on your face as he presses two fingers down on your clit can be heard in the sound you make. He thrusts a little harder, rubs your clit like he knows how much you love. Underneath you, the bed shakes. 
“My girl,” he says affectionately and you cry out for the first time because he sets off a string of flutters in your womb with his fingers on your pulsing clit. Is it possible that he fucks you better because he is so tired, mind going on autopilot and leading him back to his basic instincts? 
When you let out another cry, the hand that isn’t between your legs goes underneath your jaw and cheek until he can cover your mouth from behind. He successfully holds in your next very vocal approval of what he is doing. 
“You take my cock so well,” he says lazily, grinding harshly into you until you sob into his hand from how much your pussy throbs, “Good fucking girl.”
“More,” you beg desperately despite being muffled. Javier hears you though and knows what you want from having heard you babble into his hand so many times. It’s like knowing a secret language of yours. 
The springs in your mattress creak. Javier relents his continuous touch to your clit to settle his hand on the back of your knee. He lifts your leg and fucks roughly into you, balls slapping against you from behind. 
The new position makes him able to push against your g-spot, cockhead nudging at your front wall each time he pushes determinedly into you. With how horny you are due to the excitement of him getting you pregnant, you think you might just be able to come untouched. 
Still, he slides his hand down to wrap his fingers around your ankle, yanking until you lock your leg behind his thigh. It gives him the option of reaching down between your legs again, thumbing repeatedly at your clit until he starts getting you towards orgasm.
His lips connect with your shoulder, kissing your sweat-slicked skin as he rubs you off. You can do nothing but take it, overwhelmed by him filling you up again and again whilst making your cunt tighten around him as you get closer and closer. It is hard to determine where you end and he begins when you are together like this.
“God, you are going to come, aren’t you, baby?” He whispers with ragged breath, “Can feel this pussy trying to show me who is boss. God, she’s tightening real good around me.”
Briefly, you twist your neck so you can, somewhat, look back at him. He lifts his hand from your mouth to kiss you deeply, swallowing down your moans that are climbing in pitch. 
You feel like you might be steaming by now, your heartbeat nearly making you dizzy and your lower abdomen twitching. He has you so close, so fucking close that you want to cry and so close that—
Your whole lower body snaps like a pulled elastic band. You cannot continue kissing your husband, turning your head to look forward as you start crying out and shaking whilst your pussy comes so hard that you can hear wetness making Javier’s cock sound obscene inside of you.
He quickly clamps his hand down on your mouth again, letting you practically scream against it whilst your body won’t stop sending pleasure out from your twitching clit.
“Shh,” he shushes you with just a hint of teasing condescending tone as you try to come down from your intense high. However, with the way that he continues fucking you, it becomes hard not to make a sound like wounded animal into his palm, “Don’t cry, Momma. I’ll fuck my baby into you, I’ll give you a baby and you will never forget that I came inside your wet cunt, made you all sticky for me. Is that what my girl wants?”
You whine in approval of his plan, relishing in your oversensitive pussy squeezing around him as if to pull his come from him, and reaching with your outstretched arm to peel his hand from your mouth, “Yes, fuck— baby, please. Put a baby in me.”
With that, Javier retracts his arm underneath you to grab your lifted leg with both hands. He digs his fingertips into your plump flesh, using your thigh for leverage so he can move inside of you whilst simultaneously dragging you down on his cock repeatedly. He radiates heat and desperation, tired body having been possessed by newfound strength to meet his own destination, the whole purpose of this. 
His hips start to stutter as he comes, (hopefully) fucking a baby into you. There’s a sharp intake of breath and then warmth fills up your ripe cunt, his seed planting itself as deep inside of you as he can manage. He holds your thigh harshly, making you unable to move, and groans with each pulse of his dick inside of you. 
He stays like that until he starts to soften. You make a sound in unison when his length starts to slip out of you, and without saying a word, he helps you onto your back again so he can kiss you longingly. You cup his face and tell you how much you love him. 
“Pillow,” he reminds you when you need air fairly quickly after kissing him. You are exhausted. 
“Right,” you yawn and automatically lift your legs. Javier stuffs one of the decoration pillows underneath your knees, essentially making it as hard as possible for his come to leave you, “I think that was the one. It can’t not have been.”
“We’ll have to leave you like that to make sure,” he sounds exhausted too, “I’ll take the kids tomorrow.”
“Really?” You close your eyes.
“We could also drop all of them off at Pop’s,” he jokes, “And make babies until we aren’t in doubt about its success.”
You chuckle, “We’ll see.”
In the quiet dark, you hear him wipe himself down with wet wipes from his nightstand, hissing once from oversensitivity, and then not long after, you hear snoring again. 
Next month, you’ll take a pregnancy test and you’ll see two red lines.
.
.
If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️
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gloomysoup · 1 month ago
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he's probably worried (not hiding anymore)
@steddiebingo christmas card prompt: secret relationship
rating: teen+ | word count: 717 | tags: post-s3, post- starcourt, coming out | ao3
The air is filled with red-orange flames and smoke as the mall burns to the ground in front of him. His head is still spinning, face throbbing, and he can barely breathe. The adrenaline is starting to fade, and Steve’s injuries are making themselves known. He stands side-by-side with Robin, neither of them saying a word. Everything has changed. Neither of them will ever be the same person they once were.
Steve has a fleeting thought that Eddie must be worried. It's gone just as soon as it was there when the paramedics are ushering them into the ambulance and taking them to the hospital.
Everything is a blur of sirens and lights, Robin’s hand in his, a shock blanket around his shoulders. Doctors and bright lights, wires and beeping machines. He gets set up in a room for monitoring. Robin is okay. The kids are okay. Everyone is okay.
Steve doesn't even register what's happening when the nurse says they're going to call his emergency contact. His brain still feels a little fuzzy, even if things are starting to become clearer.
Everyone is gathered in Steve’s room. Robin and Dustin are sitting at the end of the bed, on either side of his legs. Robin refuses to leave his side. Steve is thinking about Eddie again.
Steve is late for dinner. He's probably so worried.
There's heavy footsteps in the hallway, shoes squeaking on the linoleum. The door flies open, and a head of curls stumbles into the room. Eddie’s eyes find Steve’s quickly, wild and full of fear and concern. He quickly crosses the room, pulling Steve into a tight hug. The room falls silent around them.
“Christ, Steve, I was so worried about you,” Eddie whispers, his voice tight like he's trying not to cry. “Are you okay? What happened?”
“I'm okay, promise. Just a little banged up, that's all.”
Eddie sucks in a very shaky breath, not letting go of Steve. “You're not allowed to scare me like that anymore, asshole. I can't handle it.”
“I'll do my best. How'd you even know I was here?”
Eddie pulls back, his hands resting on the sides of Steve’s face. “The hospital called Wayne.”
The door opens again, and there's Wayne. Steve notes that he looks tired, but the older man smiles when his gaze lands on Steve.
“Glad to see you're still kickin’, kid,” he says, the worry washing away from his face.
“Sorry, Wayne, can't get rid of me that easy,” Steve says with a grin that pulls at his cuts and bruises. Wayne barks a laugh at that, shaking his head.
“What the hell is going on?” Dustin says, finally finding his voice.
Eddie's eyes go wide as he suddenly seems to realize they are not alone in the room. Steve grabs Eddie’s hand with a smile and gives it a squeeze. Then he clears his throat and looks at Dustin.
"Wayne is my emergency contact,” he explains. “Has been for a little while now. I've, uh… kinda been staying with them from time to time.”
Dustin frowns, his eyebrows knit together. “But… why?”
Steve glances at Eddie, squeezing his hand again. He takes a deep breath. It's now or never. “Eddie is… my boyfriend.”
It's the first time he's said the words out loud. It's the first time they put an actual label on what they are, what they truly mean to each other. They've been boyfriends for a little while now, but they never actually talked about it. There was always so much sneaking around and secrets and keeping it under wraps. They were both scared.
Not anymore.
Steve isn't scared to hide Eddie away from his friends, from his family. The people who truly matter. Not when Eddie has never been scared of hiding him from Wayne, his family. He's done being scared, because he knows there's so many scarier things out there. He knows that monsters are real, and he knows it'll take a lot more than a boyfriend to run off his monster hunting family.
So he smiles at Eddie, and he calls him boyfriend. Because that's what he is. He's Steve’s boyfriend, and he loves him.
He's done keeping that a secret from the people who have always had his back, despite what they've been through.
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littlemelanintales · 10 months ago
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Just One More
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WARNING: Overstimulation, crying reader, language, fingering
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“No, no, no, no!”
There you are, 4 orgasms in and writhing wildly in Bucky’s arms as he continues to rub circles around your clit. You’re trembling with tears streaming down your face while you desperately try to get away from the torturous manipulation of his hands. All he could do was smile as he keeps the cold, heavy metal of his left arm tight around you middle.
He kept pulling you back into his chest when you couldn’t help but buck your hips and gasps for breath, “Bucky… please… no more, I can’t-”. He puts two fingers in your abused opening,
“Yes, you can,” he says sternly, mouth pressed to your ear. The bass in his voice vibrates the wires in your brain. He’s all you crave.
He lets out a deep breath when he slides a third finger into your hole. You were helpless and at his mercy. Your hands are trapped behind your back, between your torsos with a red Christmas ribbon he found. Your legs were trapped between his so when you tried to close them, he just had to spread his wider. There was absolutely nothing you could do to stop him from playing with your sensitive pussy.
“Ohhh, I’m not done yet, Baby. Not yet.” He pulled his fingers out and went back to the same speed on your clit.
“Oh my god, Sir… fuck, please, don’t stop,” you moan loudly, trashing in his grip when the tight coil in your abdomen comes undone. Wave after wave of pleasure crashing through you. You’re full on sobbing in blissful agony before going tractable in his arms. All your body could do was tremble from head to toe when he pressed his nose into your slick neck and finally slips his fingers out of you. He loosens his hold on your torso, allowing your legs to close a bit to give you a well deserved moment. You go to close them more when he cups his hand possessively around your pussy. He’s still not done.
You start to cry again; the combination of the tears and your whining making you sound so pathetic and helpless. He just eats it up.
“Noooo… Bucky, please, no more… stop, I- I can’t… please, no…”
“Shhh. You’re doing so well for me,” he says, pressing his lips against your temple. “What do you say to get me to stop?”
He laid a light tap to your swollen petals, “tell, y/n. Stay with me.”
“Brooklyn,” you said in the faintest whisper.
“Why?”
“It’s where we met…FUCK!”
He doesn’t wait another moment before slipping two fingers back inside your sopping pussy, making you cry out when they graze your ultra sensitive walls.
“James-FUCKKK!,” You drag out as you sit your head up to watch his attack on you,
“You want me to stop? Say it and I’ll stop.” He knew you wouldn’t and he reveled at the fact that he had complete control over you. The fact that he didn’t reprimand you for using his legal name meant that he was having way too much fun in this torture session to even care.
“No! Please don’t stop…” His fingers reached the spot that undoes it all and your eyes roll back as you place your head back on him, completely quiet.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Bucky watches, mesmerized that it’s him who’s making you cum like this.
You whimper in his arms, gulping in large breaths that pass right by his ear from where my head is resting on his shoulder. Your entire body is trembling. Your sweaty skin sliding along his own when you try to wiggle away from his touch.
You stay like that for a moment before he presses another kiss to your temple. By this time, your eyes are closed and you’re starting to come down. Your breathing stables until you feel a heavy, icy sensation start to travel back to your overused cunt.
“You’ve been such a good girl for me. I know you can give me another, Baby.”
seen this before? tumblr deleted my other account so i have to rebuild :/
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roosterforme · 8 months ago
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Aim for the Sky Part 8 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Bradley has to preserve your dignity in the most awkward way possible. He's ready for a relaxing few days off at Christmas with your parents, but their visit gets off to a rocky start. But by the end of their trip, Bradley is once again feeling as hopeful for the future as you are. 
Warnings: Fluff, smut, titty fuck, swearing, angst, pregnancy
Length: 5300 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader
Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.
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It might have been amusing if it was happening to someone else, but it definitely wasn't. It was happening to him. Bradley looked at the time as he backed his Bronco out of the driveway at top speed and took off down the street. You and he should have been leaving now to get to the airport on time to pick up your parents, but that was just going to have to wait.
"Jesus Christ," he growled, barely pausing at the stop sign after he made sure nobody was coming. Bradley Ross was still packing up his truck not five minutes ago, so he couldn't have gone far. Through polite conversation, Bradley knew that the contractor lived a little further south in Coronado, so hopefully he could catch up to him quickly.
Bradley loved you with his whole being. You were the smartest, most capable person he had ever met. You also had pregnancy hormones on the brain, and if you weren't currently forgetting full conversations you'd had, you were falling asleep on a whim. Getting dirty photos from you was always a welcome distraction, but right now, you needed to focus a little extra on everything. Apparently having two Bradleys around was not the best idea.
"Yes," Bradley gasped, hitting the accelerator even though he was approaching a red light. The white Ross Construction pickup truck was stopped and waiting, and he cut into the other lane to pull up right next to it. "Shit," he groaned, realizing he couldn't roll his passenger side window down from the driver's seat. He started honking his horn before the light turned green, and the other Bradley turned to look at him in surprise, but his expression immediately melted into apprehension. It was obvious he'd seen the pictures. "God damn it."
After gesturing wildly for him to pull over, the light turned green, and Bradley was relieved when the truck moved through the intersection and then stopped in front of the first house. He pulled the Bronco over in front of the truck and hopped out as soon as he killed the engine. This was about to be one of the most awkward conversations of his life, and he'd had his share.
"Hey," he said as calmly as he could as the other man put his window down. Then he cleared his throat and sighed. "You may have received a text message from my wife in error."
He was met with bright red cheeks and guilt ridden eyes, and Bradley felt his hands curl into fists at his sides as his nostrils flared. Fucking hell, this man had seen your tits.
"Uh, I'm assuming that the mix-up occurred because of our names?" he asked. Bradley could see his phone sitting in the cupholder, and he wanted to snap it in half. 
"That's right," he replied through gritted teeth. How the fuck was he supposed to proceed here? He needed to make sure your dignity was as intact as it could possibly be at this point, and if he had to get a little aggressive, he would. "Mind letting me see your phone?"
The other man reached for it slowly, and Bradley watched him unlock it as he said, "I only saw the message preview when I started driving."
"But you saw it," Bradley snapped, rubbing his temple as he held out his other hand palm side up.
"Yeah."
Once the phone was in his hand, he confirmed that the message was still unread. At least there was that. While Bradley Ross may have seen your glorious breasts for himself, at least he'd only have his memory to rely on from here on out. He took his time and deleted each of the three photos. Then he emptied out the trash folder. Then he double checked that there was no trace of the photos anywhere before he deleted your contact information from the man's address book. After one more quick sweep to be sure his wife's tits were nowhere to be found, he handed the phone back to the abashed looking man.
He wasn't going to apologize for chasing him down, and he wasn't going to threaten him for something you started. Instead Bradley merely muttered, "Happy holidays," before returning to his Bronco and sliding into the seat.
He didn't realize how much his heart was pounding until he was sitting there in the silent interior, watching the Ross Construction truck pull away. He dug your phone out of his pocket while he started to calm down. When he entered your pass code, he saw that you had a new text from Cam but nothing else. Out of extreme caution, he blocked the other Bradley's phone number before deleting it from your address book, and then he started up the engine.
"What the hell am I supposed to do with her?" he muttered to himself as he pulled a u-turn and headed home. He thought about spanking you, but he was certain you'd just enjoy yourself. Frankly he would too. He wanted to lecture you about always checking the recipient before trying to send him something dirty, but he knew you probably already felt badly enough. When he pulled into the driveway, he saw you peering out the front window, waiting for him. Then he walked inside with his fingers wrapped around both phones and found you standing in the middle of the living room.
"What happened?" you asked, worrying your hands in front of your pregnant belly. Your eyes were wide, and you bit down on your lip, clearly beyond concerned to hear what he had to say. All thoughts of scolding you fled his mind, and when he opened his arms, you rushed toward him. 
"I took care of it. Deleted everything from his phone."
"On my god," you moaned, your belly pressing against him as you sighed in relief. He wrapped his arms around you as you settled against his chest and looked up at him. "Did he see the photos?" you asked softly. When he nodded, you winced. "I'm so sorry, Roo."
Tears filled your eyes as he sighed and looked around the room. The house was spotlessly clean, and the mostly undecorated Christmas tree was standing tall in the corner by the window. Everything was ready for your parents to get here, but neither of you made a move to leave. 
"I'm not mad at you, Sweetheart. It's not like you sent them to him on purpose," he whispered.
"I would never," you replied, voice filled with conviction. "These are all yours. And soon to be Rosie's." You patted your chest, and Bradley smiled.
"She's the only one I'm dividing my time with." He kissed your forehead. "We should leave to get your parents before it gets any later."
You agreed, and Bradley got you all buckled into the red Bronco. Of course there was a ton of traffic now that it was the peak of rush hour, and shortly into the drive you told him, "My dad texted me. They already landed."
"They're just going to have to wait," he replied, trying his best to merge onto the highway.
You were silent for a few minutes while you messed around on your phone, but finally you asked him, "Did you at least like the pictures?"
Bradley glanced at you from the corner of his eyes. "Of your tits?"
"Yeah," you whispered. "You didn't say anything about them."
He was practically ramming into other cars to try to find a spot in the parking garage at San Diego International after chasing down another man and forcefully demanding he hand over his phone, and you were honestly worried about whether or not he liked the way your boobs looked in the photos. He barked out a laugh as he swung the Bronco into a spot and parked. 
"What?" you asked, frowning at him. "You've been very vocal about them!"
He gestured for your phone, and you handed it to him before crossing your arms over your chest. Even though the two of you were late, he took a moment to really look at the photos in question again. He liked the first one where it looked like you were about to spill out of your bra. The second was just as nice since you were showing off your breasts and your wedding rings. And the third one was the main event, literally a vivid depiction of where he currently most enjoyed letting himself unload after he fucked you.
"Yes, Baby Girl. I like the pictures. In fact, I love them." He texted them from your phone to his, making sure he had the correct name selected before he gave your phone back. "And I'd love to see them in person when we get home later if you're in the mood."
You rolled your eyes and squeezed your thighs together. "I'll almost certainly be in the mood," you informed him as you opened your door.
"Oh, one more thing," he said, and you glanced back at him as he smirked. "How about you let me be the resident photographer for the time being?"
---------------------------------
Your mom and dad looked annoyed when the two of you showed up late to retrieve them from the airport after weeks of assuring them that you'd pick them up without issue, but as soon as they saw your belly, they calmed down.
"Look at you!" your mom gushed, rubbing her hands together before placing them on your bump. "How's our sweet granddaughter?" she asked as Bradley started to collect their luggage.
"Very active," you told her with a smile. "She'll start doing somersaults if you wait there long enough."
"Really?" your dad chimed in, coming to stand with your mom after helping Bradley. That's how you ended up with four hands plastered to your midsection while your husband stood behind you and kissed your ear.
"Want to tell them her name?" he whispered, his lips brushing your skin. You had to assume he wasn't too upset about Bradley Ross and the boob photos if he was still just as loving as always. 
Of course your mom heard every word he said and practically shouted, "You picked out a name?"
You nodded as your parents both stared at you. "Rose."
"Rose!" your mom gasped like she'd just won the lottery.
"That's pretty," your dad mused, and that's when the baby started thumping in what seemed like delight. "I feel her!"
"So do I! Hi, Rose! It's your Nana!"
You desperately wanted to go home and eat dinner, but you stood there until your parents wore themselves out asking questions and trying to feel the baby move. Eventually Bradley said, "You must be tired and hungry. There's food at the house, and the attic renovation is done and ready for you."
"Perfect," your mom replied. "You can just tuck us away up there, and we'll be out of your hair."
"That's the idea," Bradley muttered, and you elbowed him hard in the ribs as he led the way outside, pulling the massive suitcase behind him. "Watch it, Sweetheart, or I'll tell them why we were late."
"You wouldn't," you whispered.
He just shrugged. "You think I care if they know you tried to send me dirty pictures? Really, it just shows how much you love me."
You rolled your eyes as he smirked while your parents chattered away about how crazy it was to spend Christmas in California for the first time ever.
-------------------------
Bradley thought your parents would be exhausted and in bed as soon as he started cleaning up from dinner, but your dad headed for the nursery to inspect the new furniture which was still in the boxes, and your mom started unpacking your childhood Christmas ornaments from her carry on bag.
"Oh!" you gushed as she handed some to you. "I forgot about these! Bradley, look! It's my handprint from when I was four!"
You were holding up a seriously hideous green and purple Play Doh blog that Tramp was trying to lick, but he couldn't help but smile. "Maybe we can make one with Rosie each year," he mused as you hung it on the tree.
"We have to," you told him as you unwrapped another homemade ornament. You got lost in conversation with your mom, so he wandered to the nursery to see what your dad was up to.
"Hey," he said from the doorway with a little chuckle. Your dad was sitting on the floor with all of the crib parts laid out around him.
"Just checking to make sure everything's here," he muttered, counting a handful of screws. "We're probably going to want to get started on this project first thing in the morning so we have time to get it all done."
"Sure," Bradley agreed. "Thanks again for agreeing to help me with it."
"Happy to help," he murmured, adjusting his reading glasses to peruse the instruction booklet. "Happy to help." Your dad stood and rubbed his back before following Bradley out of the room. They found you and your mom out on the back patio with the lights on, looking at the massive playset.
"It's so cute!" your mom said.
"It's over the top," you responded. "Bradley just had to have it."
"He's going to be a good dad. Give him a break. I can't believe he built this thing by himself."
"Jake helped him," you told her.
"Jake helped a tiny bit," Bradley announced, and you turned to look at him with a little smile. "You know what would be fun?"
"Hmm?" you hummed, and your parents both turned to look at him.
"We could put strings of lights on the playset."
"That's a great idea, Roo!" The three of you were immediately discussing whether the lights should be white or colorful, and you were clapping your hands in excitement. Having your parents out for a California Christmas, especially with the Nugget coming soon, just felt right. The tree he picked out already looked better covered in your ornaments, and your dad was going to help him knock some of his projects off his to-do list. 
He didn't feel awkward in his own skin like he did on occasion when he missed his mom so much it hurt. She would have loved every second of your pregnancy. She would have been on the phone every night, bugging the hell out of him, but Bradley would do anything to have her back. When you slipped your hand into his, he pulled you closer and said, "I'm happy your parents are here."
You kissed him right in front of them and wrapped your hand around the back of his neck. He vaguely heard your parents say they were going to head up to bed and to have a good night which was convenient, because after everything that happened today, he was ready to be alone with you.
"Come on," he whispered when you broke the kiss. "I want to snuggle with you and Rosie." He called Tramp inside, and you led him toward the bedroom with your hand held loosely in his. But you didn't head for the bathroom or climb into bed. Instead you pulled his shirt off and tugged down his gym shorts and underwear before pointing to the bed.
"Have a seat," you told him, his cock shamelessly responding to you, already bobbing excitedly in anticipation of what was to come. Wordlessly, he took a seat at the edge of the bed and watched you pull your shirt over your belly and all the way off. His lips and hands were on your bump, and when you pulled your sports bra over your head, his mouth found your breasts. 
"I've got a little treat for you, Roo," you told him, brushing your fingers through his hair as he pulled your nipple between his lips. You moaned softly and added, "For being the best husband earlier and chasing down the man I accidentally texted dirty pictures to."
He grunted and grinned as he let your nipple pop free. "This is all mine," he said as he gestured at your body, and you nodded vigorously. 
"Absolutely." When you took a step toward your nightstand, he whined softly, but when you returned to him with a small bottle of lube in your hand, his eyes lit up.
"What are you doing, Baby Girl?" His voice sounded excited even to his own ears, and he had to reach down to stroke himself as you drizzled the clear lube onto your own breasts before tossing the bottle aside. "What are you gonna let me do to you?"
He swallowed hard as you ran both of your hands slowly along your tits until they were glistening. "I'm going to do all the work," you told him. "Just relax." When you went to kneel in front of him, Bradley helped you get down with his hands on your biceps. And then you took his cock between your lips as your silky, slick fingers glided across his balls.
"Fuck," he sighed, enjoying the sight of your shiny breasts, and a second later his length was sandwiched beautifully between them. "Oh my god."
You smiled up at him as you squeezed your tits together until he was grunting loudly, and then you moved your body slowly up and down. He watched his own cock disappear between your breasts and then reappear over and over. He was mesmerized by the smooth glide and the immaculate view he had of your face and chest. 
"Feel good?" you asked, and he nodded like an idiot as he ran his thumb along the perfect curve of your cheek. "You can touch me, Daddy."
"Oh hell." He let his thumb drift down to your nipple as you held him in place and fucked him with your tits until his balls were tight and his leg was shaking. You started kissing at his tip each time it was near your lips, and he had to grab at the bedding to keep himself in check.
After a few more slow movements, you reached for his hands and placed them where yours had been, on the outside of each breast. He squeezed himself in there tight as you said, "Go for it, Roo." Once you were holding onto his thighs to keep yourself steady, Bradley fucked your tits and played with your nipples until he was whining your name. 
He knew the attic renovation had been a great idea, but he was surprised it was paying off so soon. Your body felt magical as he went a little faster, and then he was spurting his cum everywhere. Your chin, lips and chest were painted white with his seed, and it dripped down to your belly as your tongue darted out to taste him. 
"Holy shit," he panted, looking everywhere for his phone. "I need a picture of this."
You reached into the pocket of his shorts which were on the floor and handed it to him. He took pictures of the pretty mess he made, including one where you were rubbing his cum along your skin. The swell of your belly was beautiful with his baby inside, and Bradley moaned as you licked the bead of cum from the tip of his cock. 
"You ready to snuggle?" you asked him, turning to kiss the inside of his thigh.
"Yeah." He really felt like he had it all.
----------------------------
In the days leading up to Christmas, Bradley and your dad managed to get the furniture built for the nursery with time to spare. "Can you pick a paint color, Sweetheart?" Bradley asked you on the twenty-third, holding up your final two favorites. "Your dad and I can probably get the room painted tomorrow if we go to the store today."
You looked back and forth between the sky blue sample and the rosy pink sample. "I love them both," you whispered, chewing on the tip of your thumb, indecision washing over you.
Bradley turned them around to look at them and seemed to have the same issue. "I have an idea. Will you let me make the decision?"
"Absolutely," you sighed, pleased that you didn't have to pull that trigger. "Whatever you want."
They sent you out for lunch with your mom and Nat on Christmas eve, which actually turned into a stop at the mall with all of the last minute shoppers. You didn't need to buy anything else, but you helped Nat pick out a few things, and your mom seemed amused. 
When you got home, all of the windows were open because the house smelled like paint, and your dad and Bradley were assembling something on the living room floor that you didn't know had even been purchased. "What's that?" you asked, eyeing your husband who couldn't seem to help but go overboard. "Bradley, I thought I put a cap on your spending for the baby!"
"It's from us," your parents said in unison.
"Oh."
"Oh," Bradley said, jokingly mimicking your voice. "I told you I was going to behave, and I have been behaving."
You leaned down and kissed the top of his head. "It is a chair?"
"Merry Christmas," your mom said. "It's a glider chair for the nursery. It'll be easier to feed her next to her crib so you can put her right back in bed when she's done. Not that my granddaughter will be anything but the sweetest little girl and most amazing sleeper."
Your eyes welled with tears as you hugged her. "Thanks for the overpriced chair. I love it."
Bradley stood with a soft grunt and reached for your hand. "If the smell isn't bothering you too much, can I show you the paint?"
"Yes," you said, wiping your eyes on his undershirt. You were suddenly so overwhelmed by how your parents came out for the holiday, but more than anything they were helping you get things ready for the next stage of life. Bradley led you down the hallway to the closed door and turned the knob. When he flicked the light on, you gasped. Three walls were blue, and the fourth wall was the dusty rose color you liked so much.
"I was thinking we could get the cloud decals for the blue walls and make the rosy wall look like a sunset," he said softly. "That could be pretty, right?"
You were fully crying now as you hugged him. "I think that sounds beautiful."
He kissed you as his hand settled on the sweet spot on your belly where he could usually feel a kick. "I just want my girls happy."
"We're happy with you."
The two of you spent a few minutes looking at the crib and the new dresser and the changing table. The bedding still needed to be washed, but it was folded on top of the dresser, and you ran your hand along the pastel airplanes and clouds. "I can't wait to meet her."
Bradley held you close and said, "I hope she's just like you."
When you finally walked back out to the kitchen, you were still swiping at your tears. Your mom was putting together some simple finger foods for Christmas Eve dinner, and your dad was putting the finishing touches on the new chair. There were Christmas carols playing softly through your wireless speaker, and you just didn't think the tears were going to stop.
You turned to your husband and quietly sobbed, "I wish your parents were here. I think about them so much, and I hate that I never got to meet either one of them."
"Shhh. Don't cry, Sweetheart," he crooned pulling you to his chest again. "I don't want you to cry." He was quiet for a moment as you looked at the tree, your tears turning the lights into a streaky mess. "My mom would have loved you. And she would have been over the moon for the baby. Just like your parents are. I know it's not fair. I think about it every fucking day, but I don't want you to cry when we still have so much."
You clung to him a little tighter as Rosie did a somersault. "You're right."
Your parents didn't seem concerned when Bradley held you a while longer. Then the four of you ate dinner, and you dipped literally everything into your favorite hot sauce. Then you brought the presents out from their hiding spot in the bathroom closet and set them under the tree while Bradley cleaned up the kitchen. Your mom and dad were already fast asleep by the time you climbed into bed and yawned.
"Can I read to you from the Nugget Notebook?" Bradley asked as he pulled the covers back on his side and got in as well.
"Of course," you whispered, tossing your glasses on your nightstand and snuggling up next to him.
He cleared his throat and you drifted off to sleep to the sound of his voice. "Hey, Rosie. Your mom is so funny. She thinks I've been buying you an exorbitant amount of stuff. She's completely correct. I have been. But you know who's even worse than me? Your grandparents."
-----------------------------
Bradley never let his expectations get ahead of himself on holidays. He spent two decades mostly on his own, doing very little celebrating. But that was before you. By seven o'clock in the morning, you were yanking him out of bed. When he tried to reach for your belly to say good morning, you swatted his hands away and gave him a quick kiss. "Rosie says Merry Christmas. Now let's get up."
"Jesus," he grunted. "What's the rush, Sweetheart?"
You kissed him again and said, "I promised your cousin Brenda we would FaceTime with her, and it's already late in Virginia."
He just stared at you. Somehow you always remembered everything and everyone. He knew you sent cards to his family members, and he knew Brenda would appreciate talking to the two of you. "You're the sweetest thing," he said as he climbed out of bed. 
He pulled on his gray sweatpants before following you out of the bedroom. Your parents were already up wearing their matching pajamas, and the whole house smelled like cinnamon rolls and coffee. "Merry Christmas," your mom greeted, giving him a kiss on the cheek, and Bradley did a double take when he saw the tree. There were at least twice as many presents there now as when he went to bed. 
"What's this?" he asked. "It actually looks like Santa came."
"Oh, we just brought a few things with us," your mom said. "Things for Rose. And some treats for Tramp."
"Jesus," he muttered as you handed him the iPad. "The baby isn't even here yet, and they just keep getting worse."
You nodded as you dialed Brenda's number, and when she answered, you asked how she was and showed off your bump before handing the call over to Bradley to have a few minutes alone with his mom's favorite cousin. Then he ate six cinnamon rolls and gave himself a stomach ache before it was time to open the enormous pile of presents.
There were onesies and pacifiers and bibs. Toys and a crib mobile that matched the bedding. Bottles and diapers and teething rings and little floral bath towels. Bradley was completely overwhelmed, and he kind of felt terrible when he handed your parents the set of cutting boards and the laser level you and he picked out for them.
"This is for you." He looked up as you held out a box with a smile on your face. "Well, it's for you and for Rosie."
Bradley's heart skipped a beat as you and your parents watched him unwrap a box, and when he pulled the lid off, his face broke out into a huge smile. You and he had matching shirts, and now he'd be able to match with his Nugget, too. "I love it," he said softly, holding up a large shirt and a very small one. The pink floral design was the same color as the bedroom wall he'd just painted yesterday, and the fabric was very soft. "Thank you, Sweetheart." 
He kissed you and handed you the tiny box he had tucked back behind all the others. He felt a little nervous giving it to you with your parents here, but it didn't really matter. They would see it eventually anyway. When you opened the little jewelry box and met his eyes, you said, "Help me put it on." He leaned in closer and unclasped your necklace chain. You wore the airplane charm and the little dog tag that said Baby Girl every day, and now you'd have another one with them. "It's absolutely perfect," you whispered as you slid the gold rose onto the chain.
"Just like my girls," he promised. "When she's old enough, I'll buy one for her, too, so you can match."
"I love you." You mashed your lips against his as you crawled to his lap, and Bradley didn't stop your parents from making a detour to the kitchen to start prepping for dinner.
-------------------------------
After Christmas dinner, the four of you drove around in the red Bronco to look at lights. You made a quick trip to drop off presents for Jeremiah, and then you and Bradley stopped by to say goodbye to Bob. He looked like he was glued to Maria, so you took that as a good sign.
"I'll never get over the palm trees covered in lights," your mom remarked from the backseat while Christmas music played on the radio.
You played with your new necklace charm as you said, "I think there are a lot of things here that will always look weird to us."
"We're hardy east coast people," Bradley murmured as he turned back onto your street. "Look, they decorated a cactus," he said in disgust, and you started laughing. 
"Is that house for sale?" your dad asked, pointing out the window. "It's hard to tell in the dark."
"Yeah," Bradley replied. "It's been on the market for a few weeks. It looks like it needs a lot of work."
"The last thing we need is a fixer upper," your mom told your dad, and your heart beat a little faster. 
"Dad, are you going to retire?" you asked, too afraid to even ask the more pertinent question on your mind as you played with Bradley's fingers on your lap.
"It's within the realm of possibilities," your dad replied. "Your mom wants to move a little closer to the two of you."
"Three!" she said. "Rose will be here before we know it!"
"The three of you," your dad corrected.
This wasn't the first time this topic had been discussed, but you didn't want to get your hopes up. "Are you still thinking California?"
You dad laughed. "Your mom is obsessed with the Coronado housing market."
"Obsessed is a strong word," she said, and you gave Bradley's hand a little squeeze.
"Tell me we just finished the attic for nothing," your husband mumbled as your parents argued in the backseat, but you just leaned in and kissed him.
"Aww, come on, Roo. Rosie can make one of those rooms her bedroom in a few years," you told him. "You know, so there's separation."
He grunted in approval, and then your dad asked, "Could you leave the car keys out for us to drive around a bit in the morning before you take us to the airport? The two of you can sleep in while we check out the area a little bit more."
"Absolutely," you told him as Bradley pulled back into the driveway of your cute Craftsman with all the extra bedrooms and the strings of lights around the windows. Your parents climbed out of the back, but you tugged on Bradley's hand to keep him in place. "Can I have another one of my million orgasms while they're driving around tomorrow morning?"
He ran his rough thumb along your cheek and kissed you. "My Baby Girl can have absolutely anything she fucking wants."
-------------------------------
Roo gives the best gifts. The nursery is virtually finished and so is the playset. Now we wait for the Nugget to finish cooking. A shower and a babymoon and trouble are on the way soon. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 9
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pinknatural · 1 year ago
Text
Pick out the biggest, reddest, juiciest strawberries. Wash ‘em real good. Lay them out on a tray covered in parchment paper. Pat them dry, and leave them out. Put some chocolate chips in a bowl, and microwave in 30 second intervals. After the chocolate is good and melted, pick up the strawberries by the stem and dip them in, coating them thoroughly before putting them back on the tray. 
Dean’s never made chocolate-covered strawberries before. Never had a reason to. It’s kinda nice, to dedicate all his focus to making sure the chocolate is covering up the berries evenly. To try not to get them to drip. 
Since moving into the Bunker, Dean’s found that baking is fun. He likes putting a bunch of stuff together and seeing delicious results. And chocolate-covered strawberries aren’t exactly rocket science, but he knows they’ll taste good and make Sammy happy and that’s all he really wants, right?
Plus, he thinks, gently placing another strawberry back on the parchment paper. He doesn’t think Jack has ever had a chocolate-covered strawberry before, and he can just picture the kid’s excited eyebrows at the taste. 
He picks up another strawberry, pinching all the leaves between his fingers so they don’t get chocolatey. He dips it nice and slow into the glass bowl, turning it gently as he brings it out of the chocolate.
“What are you doing?” 
Dean yelps, nearly dropping his strawberry. 
“Jesus christ, Cas, you snuck up on me!” he says, turning to glare over his shoulder. Cas is standing just behind him, staring curiously. He could’ve been there for two minutes or twenty. Dean didn’t even know he was in the Bunker, let alone the kitchen. “I’m not kidding about that bell, dude.”
“Apologies,” Cas says. He doesn’t sound a bit sorry at all. Dean rolls his eyes and turns back to his strawberry, putting it on the tray next to the other completed ones. Cas moves in closer. “What is the purpose of this exercise?”
“Chocolate-covered strawberries,” Dean says. 
“I see that,” Cas says. He sniffs, as if the smell disagrees with him. “But why are you covering the strawberries in the chocolate? Is it for a spell?”
“No, it’s a dessert. Like a candy, I guess,” Dean says. “For Valentine’s Day.”
“Ah, yes,” Cas says. “Unattached drifter Christmas.”
Something in Dean’s heart stabs, at that. He hates that Cas has heard him say that, or heard Sam reference it, or whatever. 
“Yeah,” he says, looking away from Cas’ eyes. The strawberries are safer to look at. “I guess.”
Cas’ big hands enter Dean’s field of view, and he plucks up a strawberry. Not one with chocolate on it. A naked one. Despite himself, Dean looks back up at Cas. It’s hard to not look at him. He has a very nice face.
“What does chocolate strawberries have to with the patron saint of bees?” 
“Bees?”
“And epilepsy,” Cas says, squinting at the strawberry. “And the mentally ill. And happy marriages.”
“Uh, it’s more about the happy marriages thing,” Dean says. “Valentine’s Day is about love and shit.”
“And strawberries,” Cas says, nodding wisely, as if he understands everything. He sets the strawberry back on the tray. Dean’s not sure if he’s fucking with him or not. Surely after all this time on earth, Cas knows what fucking Valentine’s Day is. 
“You give the strawberries to your Valentine,” Dean says. “Or chocolate or whatever. Or those fucking disgusting chalky heart things. But Eileen loves chocolate-covered strawberries and so these are for Sam. To give to her.”
Dean told Sam to make his own chocolate-covered strawberries, but Sam said that either Dean could make them or he would buy some from the store. And Dean does not trust fucking Hy-Vee to have quality chocolate-covered strawberries. He picks up Cas’ naked strawberry--the last one--and dips it into the chocolate. 
“That’s very kind of you,” Cas says, watching him. “To help Sam out.”
“Whatever,” Dean mutters, holding the strawberry up so the excess chocolate can drip back into the bowl. “I wanted Jack to try some, too.”
“You say that like it will make me think you less kind,” Cas says. Dean is tempted to throw him out of the kitchen. But goddamnit, he likes Cas and likes when Cas hangs out with him and asks stupid questions about Valentine’s Day. But knows that Saint Valentine is the patron saint of epilepsy, or whatever. Ugh. 
Dean never knows when Cas is leaving, anyway, so he’s gotta take all the time he can get. He leaves his strawberries behind and fetches another glass bowl. The white chocolate chips are already out, beside the opened bag of regular chocolate chips. 
“I thought you said white chocolate was an abomination,” Cas says, watching Dean pour some into the bowl. 
“It is,” Dean says. “But it will look fancier this way, trust me.” He puts the bowl in the microwave, punches in a 3-0-enter then turns around to look at Cas. He’s inspecting the neat line of chocolate-covered strawberries. They’re a little messier than Dean wants, but hell, it’s his very first try. 
“I don’t understand why you would put the chocolate on the strawberries,” Cas says. “My understanding is that strawberries are perfectly good on their own.”
“Dude, bacon is perfectly good on its own and we put chocolate on that,” Dean says. He crosses back to the counter and picks up a strawberry by the stem, holds it out to Cas. “Go on, try it.”
He expects Cas to take the strawberry from him--chocolate end first, and then he’ll get chocolate all over his fingers and Dean will die a million deaths watching him lick the chocolate off. Instead, Cas does something a thousand times worse and leans forward, biting into the strawberry without taking it, like Dean’s feeding it to him or some shit. 
Dean has a vision of a picnic somewhere, red and white checkered blanket and all. The sky is blue and the grass is soft and Cas’ head is in Dean’s lap and Dean’s feeding him strawberries and kissing him between each one. 
But instead Cas just--doesn’t break eye contact. Just stares, as he bites into the strawberry, chews and swallows. 
“Good?” Dean says, mouth dry. 
Cas closes his eyes, licking his lips. “Mmm, very.” He straightens back up. Even though he licked his lips, he missed a little--has a chocolate mustache. Dean has the insane urge to lick it right off his face. 
“Uh, you got some--chocolate,” Dean croaks instead. He mimes with his own thumb. Cas swipes the chocolate and succeeds in smearing it everywhere. 
“Did I get it?” he asks, and his wide blue eyes hypnotize Dean into reaching forward and wiping the chocolate off Cas’ face with his own fingers. Then Dean licks the chocolate off his thumb. 
Then Dean realizes that the microwave is beeping and the white chocolate’s first 30 seconds have been up for a long time, and he should probably go get that, and he escapes across the kitchen. 
“The strawberry molecules and chocolate molecules are very pleasing together,” Cas says. “Do humans put chocolate on other fruits?”
“Yeah,” Dean says, stirring the white chocolate frantically. If he doesn’t look at Cas maybe Cas will think that what just happened was normal, and that Dean isn’t fucking insane. “Uh, apples, bananas, pineapples. I think I saw it on kiwi once. Uh, maybe orange slices.”
“Fascinating,” Cas says. Dean puts the white chocolate back into the microwave. “Yes, I think Jack would like that very much.”
“Good,” Dean says. He goes to the fridge, gets a beer. Opens it on the side of the counter and takes a big swig. The microwave beeps.
It’s all melted. Dean grabs a spoon and goes over to the berries. He is not confident about this part at all, but crazyforcrust.com said to use a spoon. And hopefully he can get, like four or five good-looking ones for Sam, and the rest can be for him to pig out on on the fourteenth alone in his room while he tries not to wonder where Cas is. 
He dips the spoon into the white chocolate and covers it, then raises it over a strawberry and zig-zags over it, letting the white chocolate drip and drizzle overtop.
“See?” Dean says to Cas, who he knows is watching. “You can hardly taste the white chocolate this way but it looks good.” Well, it doesn’t look bad. Dean’s sure they’ll look better as he goes.
“I see,” Cas says. He points to the drizzled strawberry. “Are you giving that one to Sam?”
“No,” Dean says. “That one was just a practice one.”
“Good,” Cas says, and he picks up the strawberry by the stem. Dean’s never, ever seen him go for seconds before, but he makes a mental note of it. But then Cas turns the strawberry around, unmistakably offering it to Dean. “You should have one. You made them.”
“But--” Dean starts to say, and then Cas brings it up, so it nearly touches Dean’s lips. He looks at him with the same kind of focus he gives to a hunt, or smiting demons. 
“Eat it,” he says, nudging Dean’s lips with the fruit. Dean opens his mouth and bites into it. Maybe Dean would lay his head on Cas’ lap in their picnic, and Cas would feed Dean. 
The strawberry is good, probably. Dean’s not really sure what it tastes like. All he can see are Cas’ eyes, boring into his. 
Dean swallows. 
“You don’t have any chocolate on your face,” Cas says. He sounds disappointed. Dean can’t unpack that. 
“That’s ‘cause the chocolate is less melty,” Dean says, mostly on autopilot. He feels a million miles away. “Cause it’s starting to harden.”
“Okay,” Cas says. “Can I help with the drizzle?”
“Oh,” Dean says, shaken out of some kind of trance. “Sure. Get a spoon.”
Cas fetches one. He holds it like an instrument of war. Dean loves him so fucking much.
They drizzle white chocolate over the strawberries. Cas does it so precisely his drizzles look like they came from the store. Dean’s drizzles improve. He makes a couple decent ones. For Jack, he guesses, ‘cause the ones Cas made should probably go to Sam.
“I gave you a strawberry,” Cas says out of nowhere. “And you gave me one. Does that make us Valentines?”
Dean freezes. 
A moment later, his heart restarts and he looks at Cas, who is solemnly drizzling. Then he looks innocently up at Dean, and Dean realizes that Cas has absolutely been fucking with him this whole time. Absolutely knows about Valentine’s Day, absolutely ate that strawberry out of Dean’s hand on purpose. Dean narrows his eyes at him. Cas tilts his head. 
“You’re a menace,” Dean grumbles. 
“That’s not a no,” Cas says. 
“You’re right,” Dean says. “I guess it does make us Valentines.” Cas smiles, a tiny, private thing, and then looks back down at his drizzling. 
“Good,” he says quietly, and Dean ducks his head, cheeks warm and heart fluttering, and he lifts up his spoon. 
It’s kind of cold in Kansas in February, but Dean imagines him and Cas wrapped in blankets,  feeding each other chocolate-covered strawberries in front of the TV. This time, he thinks, he’ll actually taste the strawberry. And you know what? Dean’s sure that those strawberry molecules and those chocolate molecules are gonna be fucking fantastic.
Especially if he gets to kiss them off Cas’ lips. 
(ao3)
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natsboygirlfriend · 2 months ago
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୨ৎ CHRISTMAS TREE FARM — 🌲
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summary : christmas for your girlfriend is uneventful and frankly boring, so you invite her to come with you to your grandparents' christmas tree farm for the holidays
pairing : natalie scatorccio × fem!reader
not proofread and uhhh 1.6k words jesus christ
a/n : uh uh uh this is my first fic so don't make fun of me... this is like a montage thing because i got bored when the scene was too long. ALSO tell me if nat is ooc pls. like I TRIEDDDD but idk. this is absolutely a taylor swift reference, but it's very loosely based on the song itself but I tried
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you tap on nat's shoulder before the beginning of class, her head whipping back as if she didn't notice you beforehand.
"what are you doing for christmas?" you asked curiously, leaning over the desk with your knees on the edge of the seat.
"nothing much..." she shrugged.
"really?" your eyebrows quirked up, not really believing her. there's no way she was doing nothing at all for christmas.
"really." she nodded. "we didn't even put a tree this year."
your face contorted into one of surprise, not even a tree? "seriously?" you questioned again, to which she just nodded.
you felt bad for nat. she seemed so okay with doing nothing to celebrate, like it was normal.
she noticed the sympathetic look on your face, sighing as if she were used to it. "it's fine. I don't like christmas that much anyway." she assured, shrugging again.
you scoffed, immediately jumping to offer her a better christmas. "how about you come with me for christmas?"
"every winter break, my dad ships me off to my grandparents in pennsylvania. it's fun." you smiled, hoping she'd say yes.
"I don't know..." she repiled, trying to let you down gently before you cut her off quickly.
"come on, pleaseeeee!!! it'll be so much fun with you there!" you plead, leaving no room for interruption as you continued. "there's so much festivals and parties, and I never have anyone my age to be with pleasepleasepleaseplease—"
as you berated nat with pleases, the bell rung signaling class has now started, the class silencing, you now getting stares for your loud voice.
you found yourself blushing with embarrassment, sitting back correctly in your seat before the teacher started talking, nat stifling a giggle as she looked back to the front of the class.
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after class and not very much convincing she agreed to go, and a week later, you two were in pennsylvania.
"so, what are we doing today again?" she asked, stuffing her hands in her jackets pockets, watching you tie your shoes.
"uhh well, first we gonna go eat and then go run errands for the party." you explained, standing up, meeting her at eye level.
she nodded with a grimace at the mention of 'party'. "do we really have to be at the party? can't we just stay in your room? we can watch that one movie with the turbo dude." she asked with a chuckle.
"what's with the push back on the party? you like parties." you smiled back, walking to open the door, letting her walk through first.
"christmas parties are completely different. It's just fruitcake and awkward questions about school." she scoffed, walking past you.
"it's not that bad." you followed behind her, closing the door and walking beside her. the cold biting at your faces and snow crunching under your feet.
you two made a b-line for the car, rushing in and turning the heater on.
"can we at least leave if it's as bad i know it will be?" she asked sarcastically with a shiver in her voice as the warmth hit her, her back hitting the passenger seat.
"fine. but you will enjoy it." you answered, relaxing in the car before you started driving. "sure i will." she scoffed as she smiled.
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all you could hear was christmas songs on various speakers, adults chatting, and kids screaming and running like animals.
some were in the barn where it was warmer and smelt like food and pine, others we dancing under the pretty warm string lights hung on the trees and pillers.
nat clung to your side, only talking when it was to you or when your family members pestered about who she was in your life.
"y'know, I'm not sure how I feel about you call me just a friend." nat taunted, sipping on her apple cider that was still warm.
you scoffed and rolled your eyes at the tease. "shuddup." you push her with no real force.
"so you like it?" you asked, changing the subject. she tilted her head slightly in response. "the party." you clarified, making her click her tongue and nodded as she understood.
"its pretty, I guess." she shrugged nonchalantly. you looked at her with unimpressed expression. "nat."
"it's cute! not as annoying as I expected." she answered. "so you like it?" you raised your eyebrows with expectatance, and she sighed. "just a little." she smiled, looking around before quickly kissing your cheek.
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after a week filled with christmas movies, parties, and festivals, it was finally christmas morning, and you were awoken by nats body warmth contrasting the cold of your room.
you sat up with a yawn, rubbing your eyes as the holiday spirit waited to invade your brain. you turn your head to look at nat sleeping comfortably on her side, and you had half a mind to just cuddle back to her and rest for longer, but you know your grandparents were early birds and would come to wake up any moment.
"nat." you croak out, your voice soft from just waking up, shoving her lightly in a half assed attempt to wake her.
"nattttt." you continue, shaking her shoulder before she started whining, waking, curling more into the blanket to where her fried blonde hair only peaked out.
"come on. it's christmas." you stated, shoving her again. you moved your body so you were sitting on your legs, facing her. "come onnnnnnn." you murmur, laying your body weight on top of her, hearing a muffled groan from the covers.
she poked her eyes out of the blanket, looking at you with a sleepy look on her face. "fine. get off." she mumbled, pushing you off of her with a smile, sitting up.
"I don't even see the point of me going down. you're the one opening the gifts." she argued, stretching her back.
"I got you plenty of gifts. obivously." you scoffed, acting offended at the notion of you leaving her giftless on christmas.
"okay, my bad then." she grumbles with a smile, giving you a quick peck on the lips.
the whole scene was pretty domestic. waking up on christmas together, getting her loads with gifts? adorable, right?
you sat back up with her, getting out of bed, urging her to do the same. she followed suit, the cold hitting both of you.
you both made your way downstairs, the warmth of the fireplace growing as you stepped closer to the living room.
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getting gifts for nat wasn't that hard, not when all she talked about was rare cds and merch from artists that she couldn't afford to get herself.
"holy sh— moly..." she stuttered, whipping her head behind at your grandparents watching you two open gifts and the game simultaneously.
she looked back at the signed cd copy of 'bleach' from nirvana. "how did you get this?" she asked with wide, grateful eyes. "I dunno ask santa." you shrug with a proud grin.
she rolled her eyes, setting the cd next to her like it was made of glass. "well, thank you, santa." she played along.
you and nat glanced at the tree, and the torn wrapping paper and gift bags around you. "I think that's it?" you guessed with a shrug. your girlfriend copied you before gasping, scrambling to her feet. "wha—"
"just wait a sec!" she yelped, running back up the stairs.
"she's odd." your grandpa mumbled once she was out of ear shot. your eyebrows furrowed at the criticism. "don't be rude." your grandma scolded, hitting his shoulder lightly.
nat came rushing back, sitting back in her former spot in a huff. holding out a tiny gift bag. "it's just a little thing." she shrugged off before you got the chance to say anything.
the edges of your lips quirked up at the bag now in hand. "thank you, nat." you smiled. you took away the tissue paper, digging your hand in the bag and pulling out some of your favorite candy.
"that's not it." nat pointed before you could react. you continued digging in the bag, finding various trinkets and small toys that reminded nat of you. honestly the bag was pretty stuffed with things.
but the main thing that caught your eye was the cd that had a printed picture of you and nat, posing while you were mostly likely tipsy or high. or both.
nat watched silently as you looked and smiled at the gifts, trying to act calm, yet she looked at you with approval seeking eyes.
"I know it's kinda dumb bu—" she admitted before you cut her off. "no no no! it's great, nat. I love it." you assured with a chuckle, opening up the cd to see a handwritten track list of sings from various artists.
the gift was obviously very heartfelt, and you found your checking warming at the songs she chose.
she sighed and nodded in relief at your approval.
-
you sat on the couch, as nat laid her head on your lap, both of you bundled in blankets infront of the fire as you watched home alone.
"hey nat?" you murmur, breaking the comfortable silence.
nat picked her head up, looking at you. "hm?" she hummed.
"did I give you a good christmas?" you asked softly, your hand continuing to play with her hair.
a smile appeared on her face before nodding. "yes. you gave me a pretty good christmas." she admitted.
"do you still not like christmas?" you questioned more with a slight smile.
she grin grew as she nodded again. "I like it a little more now." she she sighed. you couldnt help hut feel a little proud that you were the reason she liked christmas more.
"I love you." she blurted causally, and you couldn't help but laugh a little at the sudden declaration.
"I love you too, nat." you smiled back, running a hand through her hair. she hmed and grinned before moving to lay back on her lap, content with your response.
you furrowed your eyebrows in amusement before sighing and going back to the movie.
-
okay boom done go away. I didn't even mean to post it rn my app just glitched whatever I'm gonna kms bye
@pinkcatsthatfly wanted to be tagged
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prozacwhorehouse · 3 months ago
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begging for something soft and sweet with angus. maybe a lil smutty because he's so needy and he just wants to feel... but like... shakjhdkfl i'm begging for fics or drabbles or anythign FEED US
a little something for my angus fans 🔥🔥 teensy weensy bit of smut if you squint
“christ, angus!” you whisper yell at him, pulling him by the arm into your room, carefully shutting the door behind you. “it’s the middle of the night,” you speak softly now, your tone tinged with annoyance.
“i know, i know,” he rolls his eyes, shoving his hands into his pockets before plopping down on the end of your stiff school issued mattress - no matter how many blankets you piled on top couldn’t shake the feeling of sleeping on plastic. “I just wanted to see you, is that such a crime?” he smirks, raising his eyebrows at you, jutting his pocketed hands outwards as far as his jacket will let him in defense.
“whatever, tully,” you plop down next to him, smoothing your nightgown. “your life, your demerits.” he huffs a laugh, playfully rolling his eyes and softly nudging you. you meet each others eyes, you’re seated so perfectly on the edge of the bed, so angelic, the way the moonlight is illuminating your figure through the window, snow falling outside- he just can’t help himself. he learns in, pressing a kiss to your lips. your hands move to his shoulders, his release from his pockets to plant comfortably on your waist. you bring one leg up on the bed, making it easier to face angus. he tugs on your thigh, pulling you into his lap, knees straddling both sides. your hands thread through his curls while his hand snakes up under your nightgown.
“careful, tully,” you tease. he hums and catches your lips again, swallowing your soft moan as his rolls his fingers over your nipple. as much as you’d love to play, the Christmas party was rough for everyone. sleep was the only thing on your mind.
“If that’s all, I’d really like to go to bed now,” you whisper. he softly groans at the loss of contact, reaching back out for you.
“can i stay? I’ll be out before wake up call. scouts honor,” he puts a hand over his heart and the other pledging beside him.
“angus..” you begin to protest.
“I said scouts honor! can’t break that,” he raises a brow, and of course, you give in.
“fine, you freak,” you crawl to the top of the bed, flipping over the covers. you playfully groan, “get in.”
he slides under no hesitation. your back is pressed to his stomach, his arm snaked around your waist. you interlock fingers with his hand that finds yours, resting comfortably against your chest.
“I really like you,” he mutters into the back of your neck.
“I’d hope so. youre in my bed.” his laugh tickles your neck, the last moment before you drift off to sleep in his arms.
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