#let's see how long this lasts me this time

[boobertronian]

Muay Thai - Part 1

Jihyo x M/Reader

Inspired by Jihyo's Seibja Ep_13

Proofread by @vorrentis, big thanks for some ideations by @authorhjk1

Word counts : 6163 words

All works are fictions ENJOY !

After a long week traveling across Thailand, Jihyo was preparing for her next new plan on her traveling show Seibja.

The last episode had her surfing and though challenging, she had a wonderful time and now awaited for her next adventure. It wouldn’t be long as the screenwriters and directors have a suggestion, and it’s something she would be eager to take on.

Director: “Jihyo, we came up with the idea that your next challenge would be to try Muay Thai, you know about the sport right?

Jihyo: “Ohh, I’ve seen how intense that can get.”

Director: “Well if you don’t mind, how about we set that for you to try at a local gym for the next episode?”

Jihyo: smiles and nods yes! I'm wanting to get some exercise in, let’s go!"

Director : “Then I shall book it. We’ll see you in a few days about the schedules for pro trainers, but that shouldn’t be much of a problem, also our cameraman will go with you too to film it, I hope you too will work well together“

Jihyo: "I work well with anyone sir, I did spent a whole trip with many other foreigners. I can’t wait!”

A few days later

Jihyo was at her hotel lobby, passing time on her phone texting Jeongyeon.

Today was her time to get her Muay Thai episode filming and now she was waiting for her driver/cameraman to take and film her. He texted her ten minutes ago he’d be there and twelve mins have passed since

Jihyo wondered if she should call or-

"Excuse me? Ms. Park?” Jihyo looked up from her phone and noticed a man approaching her and stood up.

Jihyo: "Hey there! You’re the cameraman who will be in charge of today’s filming right? How should I call you? I'm Jihyo, no need for formalities.”

Cameraman: “The name is Jungwoo, nice to meet you. Can I say that Twice is my favorite group. When I heard about this job, I couldn’t believe it. It’s a pleasure to work with their leader.” extends hand as Jihyo shook it

Jihyo: “Then let’s have fun together Jungwoo, let’s get this Muay Thai show started!”

Jungwoo chuckles at her energy as he stands to the side and waved behind him

Jungwoo: "After you Jihyo.”

Inside the Muay Thai gym

A trainer speaking in Thai: “Uppercut! THUMP Knee strike! WHACK Elbow strike - 1-2-3 Combo! THUMP THUMP WHACK”

Jihyo: “Woah! Now this is fun I wonder if I can try those moves! And Nayeon-unnie might loves those buff dudes!” the trainer looks at Jihyo’s direction and heads to her

Trainer: "Hi there, I'm the lead coach at this facility, the name ‘s Anurak. These 2 over here are Chakan and Chalerm, are you part of the korean filming crew that i’ve been contacted with?“

Cameraman: "Yes sir, our director did talk to you a few days ago about it and we’re here for the session, this is our main star, Park Jihyo from Twice, and we’ll be filming her trying out moves for the show.” bows to them

Jihyo: “Nice to meet you all. I hope I won’t be a burden since it’s my first time with the sport!"

Anurak: "Don’t worry, we have beginners nearly everyday, and we all love to teach them how to strengthen their bodies and mind through Muay Thai, so please go prepare yourselves and we’re good to go!"

Jihyo: "See you in a bit!”

Jihyo walks out proudly from the changing room,; her gear consists of blue trousers with brown top. She shadow boxes some moves while the camerman and the trainers are getting ready.

Cameraman: “Okay Jihyo, let’s get to the ring and we’ll start.”

Anurak: "Don’t forget your arm bandages and gloves. We don’t want to break your arms and such on the first day!” after tying up her bandages and gloves

Jihyo: "Alright coach! I'm ready!”

Anurak: “Ok Jihyo, so to warm up, you will do rope skipping for 3 minutes, non-stop, are you ready?" Jihyo: "Let’s go!"

Jihyo takes a deep breath then starts skipping. Her body jumps up & down through the motion, with her big titties defies gravity along with the jumps, moving up & down each bounce she takes. The motions of her tits are so noticeable for the fighters, making their eyes stare straight to her endowed chest. Anurak (thinking) : "Damn, those are some big boobs, looks mesmerizing.” Chakan (thinking) : "Holy shit, her titties just bounce up & down like crazy.” Chalerm (thinking) : "one hell of a pair for sure “

Anurak: "Ok Jihyo, first it's about the stance, it’s very important to have a strong stance so you can be balanced while striking. Put one leg in front and one leg behind, Jihyo copies good, like that, and put your arms straight in front of your face for guarding, this will be the basic of your training.”

Jihyo: "Got it."

 Anurak: “Next, you will use your right hand to punch into the pad on my right hand side of the pad, this will be the basic punch, now punch it”

WHACK

Anurak: "Good! Harder!"

THUMP WHACK THUMP

Anurak: "Very good! Now do the same thing with left hand!

 WHACK

Anurak: Good! Even harder!

WHACK**WHACK

Anurak: Great. You’re a fast learner Jihyo.”

Jihyo: "What can I say~ I'm adept to everything!”

 Anurak: Okay next is elbow strikes, use your right elbow to strike to my pad.

WHACK

"Good, one more."

THUMP

"Harder!"

THUMP WHACK

"Combo left right!"

THUMP WHACK

"Very good!"

Jihyo: "Woohoo my very first Muay Thai lessons! I feel pumped!" thumps her gloves together

Anurak: “You sure are! Okay, now here comes the quite challenging part, kicks, many of our beginners hurt themselves for this so be slow first. Sweep your kicks into my pads, learn the move slowly, ok good, a little more force, good, don’t loose your balance while kicking...

THUMP

"Good a bit harder!

THUMP

"Good! Harder!

WHACK

"Left kick!

WHACK

"Right kick!"

THUMP

Jihyo: "I'm getting a hang of this, it’s like learning for our choreos, but with more hits!“

Anurak: "sweet! Okat next, it’s combo strikes, you will combine what you just learned with me and strike into my pads, with both jabs, elbows and kicks, got it?”

Jihyo: "yes coach!"

Anurak: "Okay here we go! Left jab! Right jab! Good! 1-2-3 left right left! harder! Right Elbow strikes! Good! Go for the-Ooghhhhh!”

Jihyo: GASP Are you ok!? I'm so sorry!"

Chakan (in thai): "Hey coach what happened? You’re alright?

Anurak (in thai): “She kicked me in the nuts...shit, this hurts...”

Cameraman: "I'm gonna cut the filming, that looks painful.”

Jihyo: "Sorry I got to excited, my adrenaline just kicked in and I was too careless, I ruined our filming plans.“

Anurak: "Jihyo it’s okay….I'm gonna go...in the locker room...to check it out… holy crap that one hurts…”

Jihyo: "I'm seriously sorry for this, but we’ll help you what we can okay? Just call out if you need anything.”

Anurak: "I will..." hobbles out of the ring and back to the locker room

Chalerm : "Don’t be to worried Jihyo, you’re just a beginner, it could happen to anyone the first few times, we’ll take him into the lockers, and we’ll be right back.”

Few minutes later...

Chakan : "Okay so we helped him into the bench, he’ll be okay and we’ll have to wait if he can come back out, but we know our coach, he’s one tough dude.”

Jihyo: "Okay, but I think I should go check him out, Jungwoo would you mind let our director know that we’re on hold? I'm very sorry for this.”

Cameraman: "Already on it, and don’t be too harsh on yourself Jihyo, every show has delays. Let me know if there’s anything coming up okay?”

Jihyo: "Will do.”

Inside the lockers

Jihyo: "Hello, Anurak are you okay? I'm such an idiot for doing this to you..."

Anurak: "It’s alright...i’ve been through harder punches and kicks than this...but gotta say...you got quite a kick for a beginner...”

Jihyo: "Again, I'm very sorry, would you mind let me help you with it? It does sound pretty bad and seeing you like this is not my thing.”

Anurak: "But…it might feel quite awkward…for you to check my “friend”...I don’t think it’s appropriate for me to let you do that …. Just let me rest…a bit...and i’ll be back out there…”

Jihyo: "Just a quick look okay. I would feel even more inappropriate to let you on your own like that while keep going with the show, it’ll be quick, don’t be shy about it. Beside, between you and me, yours is not the first one I seen giggles, so sit straight up, put your back to the lockers and lemme have a look”

Jihyo said while pulling down his trousers slowly.

Anurak ( thinking) : 'this girl is fearless, no wonder she’s a leader, oh well, doesn’t hurt much to let her see my dick'

Jihyo: "Hey Anurak, you mind if I...touch it? I wanna see if you have any bruises."

Jihyo said while being internally excited.

Anurak: "Gulps s-sure…but pleas be gentle… "

Jihyo (giggles) : "Yes coach~” Jihyo uses to her fingers to move along the length of his dick, and then move to the ballsack, at first slow but then she suddenly uses her entire palm to massage it

Anurak" 'fuck, she’s moving too fast… too hard...to resist now …”

Jihyo: "You’re okay Anurak? You’re shaking! Did I hurt you?”

Anurak: “Keep goi-… oh shit…no please…slow down”

Jihyo ( pretends to not hearing clearly) : “Oh~ Keep going? Sure coach! Whatever you say!"

Jihyo moves her palm faster

Anurak: "Shit, at this rate I'm gonna… "

Jihyo suddenly slow down, but, she has other ideas

Jihyo: "Coach, I have this technique I learned long ago that can help you, you want me to try? It will make you feeeeel goooood~"

Anurak: "Oh no…” Jihyo slowly opens her lips and put his lengthy dick slowly into the opening of her mouth, while looking up at Anurak with her round but smiling eyes, letting his entire length moving in and out which each bop of her head straight to his crotch.

Anurak: ”Oh fuck, I can’t control it anymore, please Jihyo, whatever you do, do it quick!”

Jihyo pulls out her huge smile: ”Yes coach whatever you say~ I am your student (giggles)” then she get back to his dick, putting his entire length to the deepest part of her throat, gagging on it, slippery but not to mention, full of adrenaline.

Anurak: "Fuck Jihyo… too good...I'm gonna ...I'm gonna cum...too good...can’t hold it anymore …”

Jihyo keeps going, bobbing her head even faster like those quick javs she had with the lessons, pulling in and out of his dick just to tease him, and then go fast again to pick up the pace, leaving Anurak no room for breaks, let alone controlling his urge to cum.

Suddenly, Anurak, pulling his big dick out of Jihyo mouth, standing up while moaning out: ”Jihyo I'm cumming...ahhhhhh...fuckkkk…”””

Thick blobs of cum spurting out from his dick straight to Jihyo face, down to her sex lips and in her tongue, it’s like Anurak just hit a K.O for his win.

Jihyo (with cum in her face, mouth): ”Oh wow, he came a lot, and it’s thick, and mmmhhh taste pretty good too, wonder what he ate this morning?“

Jihyo said while using her fingers to scoop the cum away from her cheeks, nose, lips and get it all to her mouth while Anurak standing proud and panting with his dick still hard, falling back a bit to the locker.

Out of a sudden, Jihyo and anurak startle when they hear voices coming from the opening doors

Chakan: "Coach you okay? We hear your from out there. What's going on? Do we need to call for ambulance?”

Chalerm: ”Yeah, what's wit-what the…. y-you two-...”

Chakan and Chalerm just standing there, looking surprised at the messy scenario while Jihyo slowly turns her head back, and Anurak is rushing to pull his trousers on

Anurak: "Hey guys...uh...Jihyo and I… well she...helped me to ease off the soreness...well… it feels go-I mean, it feels less sore now...she...did an amazing job...for a non medical person…" Anurak talks while panting, not forgetting pulling his trousers up

Jihyo: ”yes. I helped him a bit, he’s alright now, your coach surely is a tas-...tough one to recover (giggles)

Chakan and Chalerm, (turning back and whispering to each other in thai) : “She just blew our coach's dick off like nothing, she’s wild dude.” Chakan said.

Chalerm: ”Yeah, and she’s fuckin hot, no wonder she’s one of their top idols, look at that face and her tits man, I had a boner back then just looking at them.”

Chakan: ”What should we do now, should we ask her to "help” us too? I mean...doesn’t hurt to ask right? His cum is all over her face already so why not?”

Chalerm: "Yeah, it’s not like we have this chance every day in this little facility. Might feel good hehe," they both turn back and speak out : "uh…miss Jihyo…I think we have a problem here.”

Jihyo: ”Ohh? What is it? Did I do something wrong?”

Chakan: ”oh no nothing wrong, it just...we’ve been training all evening before you came for your show, and Chalerm and I are feeling pretty sore, our lower body are tensed and...I think we need some help...would you mind …” Chakan pats his crouch.

Jihyo ( thinking in her head while smiling): these naughty boys "Hehe, sure i’ll help you. let’s see how tasty they are (giggles)

Chalerm: ”So...you’ll help us miss?"

Jihyo (laugh out loud): "Hehe~ Come here you two buff boys, i’ll help you, veeeeryyy good for sure, considering this my bonus from the show okay?”

Jihyo said while hurrying getting their pants off, letting their hard dicks to pop straight out, "oh stop calling me miss, it’s too formal, just call me Jihyo.”

Chakan: "Okay Jihyo, do your thing, please, we’re “very” sore now." Quickly, the two stood on either side of Jihyo, letting her holding their dicks at the same time as Jihyo again using her tiny palms and start moving, wetting her fingers with their pre-cums.

Jihyo: "Wow, you two sure are tense hehe, I guess i’ll have double the efforts~" Then, Jihyo put her mouth into Chakan’s dick while keep stroking Chalerm’s making them moan out. She’s going slow and steady, alternating between two, making them moan louder and louder each turn.

Chakan: "Fuck Jihyo, ahhhh,...so good...where did you learn this “technique”, this is even scarier than having an uppercut to your jaw”

Chalerm: "You’re such a pro for this, are you sure you’re not "skilled” enough to beat us?"

Jihyo: "Well, like I said to Anurak, your dicks aren’t the first one i’ve seen, just ones of many hehe~"

Chakan then holds Jihyo's head, starting to pump in and out of her mouth, making Jihyo gags a bit, while Chalerm is about to do the same. The two muscular fighters alternating Jihyo mouth, fucking deep and long strokes, while she just enjoying it.

Jihyo (closing eyes and thinking): "They’re ravaging my mouth, good, I want it, been a while seeing huge dicks like this anyway, beside, I'm too high on adrenaline now, feels like I can just suck them all night”

Anurak, standing there watching his two subordinates being sucked, thinking: 'damn, she one hell of a unit, big tits nice thighs, round ass, would be good if I can see ALL of thoses assets, might get me hard again for another round'

Everyone suddenly rushed out to the ring, half naked below, while Jihyo, in all her dirtiest thoughts, thinking there’s a way to make the filming even more interesting and impactful. Aftee Jungwoo setting up the camera on a tripod, all four guys around Jihyo, with her kneeling in the middle smiling.

Anurak: "Okay Jihyo, next lesson, it’s about endurance, if you can “beat” all four of us, you’ll get a treat from our facility, if you can’t, well, we’ll have some “penalties“ for you. Sounds good?“

Jihyo: "Alright coach! I won’t stop until you guys all “beaten up” hehe~ Whose first."

"I am," Jungwoo walks forward as Jihyo licks her lips.

"No way, I'm going first," Chalerm points at himself.

"Just get over here, in fact, I'll go for all of you," Jihyo stated and that brought a grin to everyone.

Jihyo starts, sucking out Jungwoo first, then suddenly turn to the side and suck Chakan, while stroking Chalerm’s dick, then she keeps going with Chalerm meaty dick, while stroking Anurak, taking turns on each of them, making them moaning out loud in the ring.

Jihyo: "How’s my technique, am I doing good? Excellent?“ Jihyo said while stroking dicks.

"AMAZING” All four blurts out, it’s too good for them to describe, having Twice's curvy member blowing them out one by one like a hungry fighter beating their foe in the ring.

Jihyo doesn’t stop, she keeps gagging between dicks and alternating hands to mouth, doing rounds of blowjobs like competing in a muay thai battleground, making each of her “foes” moaning loud and hard.

Then, a huge scream came from Jungwoo as he pulls out his dick, stroking hard and cum onto Jihyo's side cheeks, nose, while Chakan and Chalerm follow, cumming onto her pretty lips, forehead, and a bit of her hair, with Anurak finishing straight in the middle of her nose and a bit on her neck, covering her beautiful face with thick white spurts of cum.

The four panted, backing up to the four corners, while slowly recover their stamina, seeing Jihyo face being covered in cum, some of it dripping down to her top and trousers. Jihyo stays quiet, in a weird silence, making the guys feel a bit scared.

Cameraman: "Jihyo?… uh …you okay? Did…did we go too far?

Anurak: "Oh shit, I think we …. I think we really did go quite far… she seems…. upset… what should we do?"

Chakan and Chalerm: "Coach...it’s… it’s our fault… we were just being too horny seeing her...damn it… we might get in huge trouble for this ..”

“NO!” the four guys shocked to their ears hearing Jihyo screams loudly.

Anurak tries to calm down the situation by speaking calmly: "Hey Jihyo we’re sorry...we should’ve sto..”

“NO”, Jihyo shout, with continue dripping on her face and mouth "I LOVE IT, FUCK, FORGET THIS FILMING, I DON’T CARE, THAT WAS THE BEST THING I’VE HAD IN MONTHS AND I WON’T LET IT STOP HERE!”

Jungwoo, in his surprise, asking: "Jihyo did you say you...love it? Did I hear it right?”

"FUCK YEAH I DO” Jihyo keeps it as loud as she can, “KEEP THE CAMERA ROLL, BUT NOT FOR THE SHOW, FOR ME, TELL THE DIRECTOR WE’RE DELAYING, ALL FOUR OF YOU ARE STILL HARD SO I NEED YOU TO FUCK ME AS MUCH AS YOU CAN, FILL ME UP, CUM ON ME, I WON’T LEAVE THIS PLACE WITHOUT CUM ALL OVER AND IN ME TODAY, YOU GOT ME?!”

All four: "Yes Jihyo!”

In quick succession, all four starting to throw away all the clothes, getting their buff bodies out in front of Twice leader, making Jihyo eyes light up and open wide seeing them, feels excited for the wildest event in her life so far.

Like hungry animals they rush up to her quickly to grope her tits, grab her big mounds, pinch her brown nipples, move down along her abs and grope a handful of her ass, help her standing moving those rough palms all over her body.

Jihyo, being really into it, push the hands out of her for a moment, using her strong grip to rip off her clothes, throws them out of the ring like dirty rags, fully displays her entire assets for the guys to see while their dicks are straight up like pistols.

All of them shouting out “ooohhhhh” when Jihyo, flips her hair a bit, grabs her tits and mashes them together, her juicy nipples rub onto each other.

She then waves her curvy ass by using her solo song’s dance as a tease for the guys.

Quickly, Jihyo stops, blurts out: "What the heck are you waiting for, come take me! Go ahead and really FUCK me!”

The four guys, in their naked selves, resuming with their hands on Jihyo tits, nipples, ass, running along her abs and pussy, with chakan and Chalerm suck each side of her tits, lift her up to the top and second rope, while jungwoo and anurak take turns fingering her pussy and tiny anus, alternate their tongues between two holes.

All groped and licked Jihyo tan-skinned body from top to bottom like a full course meal, with Jihyo’s body is dangling on the rope being "served” with full pleasure and attention. Jihyo, feels too good she could hardly forms any words, does her best to spill out :

” FUCK, YESS, suck them, SUCK MY TITS, EAT MY HOLES OUT, goddamn it,DON’T FUCKIN STOP!”

The four guys and Jihyo, continue the sinful act on the ring for a while, alternating between her assets, making Jihyo squirts a huge stream out all on the ring floor, leaving some trails as the four guys shouting out "woooowwww” again

Anurak then says out loud : "You squirt on our ring floor, now it’s time for us to give you the REAL lesson, let’s go boys, you know what to do!”

Jihyo is still feeling enamored with the sensation, suddenly being put down to her feet.

Seemingly understand the situation, she puts out a huge smile and goes to the middle of the ring, drops down on all four, with the intention of using the camera angle, invites them by taking one of her hand to her butt cheeks and pulls it apart, showing her pink pussy and puckered anus, ready for whatever comes next.

Knowing exactly what to do, Anurak orders Jungwoo to get in front of Jihyo, while he himself lines up to her pussy, slowly enters his dick in her tight walls while kneading her butt cheeks, making Jihyo moans out and squinting her eyes a bit, but then get shut fast by Jungwoo’s dick in her mouth, still loving the feeling of deep throating his number one idol, with his hands groping her big tits.

The two start to pump in and out, leaving Jihyo a real mess in the middle, spit roast her while Chakan and Chalerm masturbate themselves, patiently waiting for their turns.

Jihyo, being filled both ends, having a real time of her life, her butt cheeks ripple in every poundings while her tits dangling back and forth, and her entire face keep touching in and out of Jungwoo’s crotch.

Even better, when the two starts to switch out, making Jihyo forms a puddle of drools between each switches, enjoys endless pleasure. Chakan and Chalerm, get their huge dicks ready, both agree they will have other plans for her.

After Jungwoo and Anurak both pull out, Jihyo, feels a bit disappointed, asks out loud while panting slightly : "Wait what? Is that all you got? I'm not done yet! We didn’t even cum! What about my other hole? That one needs a cock too! Hurry up and put yours back in! I don’t wanna wait!"

Her pleas are being full filled right away, as Chakan and Chalerm tell her their plans: "Jihyo, I think you will really enjoy this, let us show you!"

Both then quickly get into their position, while Chakan lays flat on the floor, letting Jihyo rides on top of him, with her tits bounce up & down each pounding, but also does his best to pull Jihyo’s tits close to his muscular chest.

Chalerm, has a spicier idea, takes a deep breath, gently pushes Jihyo down even closer to Chakan’s chest, enters his huge dick into her tiny anus, making Jihyo screams out loud like a full volume amplifier:

"ARGHHH !! FUCKK !! YOU TWO ARE STRETCHING ME APART !!! FUCK !!! DO WHATEVER YOU’RE GONNA DO! HURRY!"

The act continues with Jihyo being pumped in and out with two dicks in her holes. Chakan and Chalerm do their best to match each other pacing, just like how they do training practices with each other, but this time, both their cocks run in and out Twice’s leader, fill her whole.

Chakan, asks out while continue his pumps : "How you do you feel Jihyo, having two dicks inside you, you ever had this before? Your walls are crushing us too hard now!"

Jihyo, with her eyes nearly roll back, mouth opens, keeps on panting and moaning, screams loud and clear like she’s hitting her high notes : "I LOVE IT, GOSH I FEEL SO GOOD NOW! FUCKK !! YOU DICKS …. YOUR DICKS ARE TOO DEEP INSIDE ME NOW, DON’T STOP FUCKING MY TIGHT HOLES !!! DON’T STOPPPP !!!”.

Jihyo’s anus and pussy, like they’re sharing a single mind, tightly wrap around the two cocks even harder, making Chakan and Chalerm feel like heaven on earth, with each cock senses the presences of each other, but also the warmth of Jihyo’s caverns. And without a doubt, the two fighters reach their climax, do their very best to hold it together just to savor more moments with Jihyo’s two holes .

Chalerm ( finally able to speak out) :"oh fuckk, gonna cun, deep in this tight anus …”

Chakan, also blurts out :"yess !!! Fuckkk !! Gonna ...gonna fill your pussy Jihyo !!”

Jihyo: "Give it to me! Fuck! REALLY CUM IN MY HOLES !! FILL THOSE UP !!!! GIVE ME YOUR HUGE LOADS !!!!"

And so they both did, with their dicks explode inside Jihyo tight walls, feeling her holes clenching the very last of their cum.

As they slowly pull out, thick blobs of cum leaking out from Jihyo pussy and anal hole, staining the ring floor below, making Jihyo feels proud but sore at the ring floor, but she just loves the feeling, love being stretched out.

Jihyo, lays flat on the ring mat, face up to the ceiling, body slightly twitching and shaking, with cum continuing to flow out of both her pussy and anus, thinking to herself:

"Fuck...they...fucked me good… in my two holes...at the same time...but my adrenaline is still too high...I want ...more of this… shit ...i can even ...go all day...if they can...I can just let them keep..."jabbing” inside me...for rounds …”

The session continues, but this time with Anurak and Jungwoo replace Chakan and Chalerm, whom taking a small break after their enjoyments, both sitting down next to the ring’s corners.

Anurak suddenly picks Jihyo up her feet, with the help of Jungwoo, bot carry her to a ring corner opposing the camera’s view, with Anurak rests his back to it, starts to use his fingers to tease Jihyo’s asshole.

Jihyo, surprises by the act, moans out a bit while using her right hand to pull Jungwoo in for a small kiss, with her other hand forcefully strokes his cock.

As Anurak stops the tease with his finger, he lines up the tip of his cock to Jihyo’s tiny hole, whispers to her right ear: "Are you ready for another round of this Jihyo? We will do as hard as we can for you!"

Jihyo, being excited for the situation, says out loud : "Yesss !!!! Go ahead !!! FUCK MY HOLES YOU TWO!!"

Jungwoo: "We will !! And you’ll love it !!”

And so, Anurak, slowly pushes his dick to Jihyo’s anus, passing the tip, with Jihyo moans while panting hard, and even louder once he pushes his entire shaft through the warmth of her tight hole, stretching her wide.

In front, Jungwoo gets the cue from Anurak, also slowly slides his dick into Jihyo’s pussy, struggling a bit due to the position of her pussy, but only takes him a while before both cocks are sheathed inside her two holes, making Jihyo once again screams loudly to their ears:

"FUCKKK! SOOO BIGG! FUCK MY HOLES NOW!”

With that, the two guys start their movements, pump in and out of Jihyo’s holes, let her tiptoe on one leg between the two, while her other leg wraps around Jungwoo’s waist.

As Jungwoo keeps on sliding his dick in and out, he uses his hands to grope Jihyo’s big tits, grabbing huge amounts while also uses his fingers to pinch her nipples, to the point which Jihyo fiercely reaches both of her arms to push his face into her tits, making Jungwoo both surprises but also has the time of his life enjoying her huge titties.

Anurak, from behind, even though he couldn’t see much of the action in front, still enjoys having his dick inside the tightness Jihyo’s ass, does his best to hold her hips, with Jihyo leans onto his abs and thighs, while his face somewhat rubs into the back of her hair.

Even at one point Anurak has to tell Jungwoo to stays still a bit so he can enjoy ramming straight into Jihyo plump butt cheeks and tight asshole, making Jihyo groans out loud :

"FUCK !!! TWO COCKS !!! YOUR TWO COCKS ARE RAMMING IN ME HARD !!! FUCKK !!! I'M SO STUFFED !! FUCKK !!! FUCK ME MORE !! I WANT MORE !!”

A moment later, Anurak gives sign to Jungwoo so they can move down to to ring mat, as it was quite a challenge for their position.

They both pulls out from Jihyo’s holes in one go, as Jihyo groans out in disappointment for the sudden pause, but, she doesn’t have to wait for long.

Jungwoo, lies back flat to the mat, dick points up to the ceiling, while Anurak is helping Jihyo to sit down to his dick in a reverse position, with his dick going straight up her tight ass, causing both Jihyo and Jungwoo cry out loudly together:

"FUCKKK!!”

Anurak, kneels to down Jihyo, put his dick inside her pussy, spreads her legs out to the side widely, with one of his hand gropes her tits while the other pins down to the ring mat.

Jihyo, being stuffed both ways and full of excitement, continues scream as loud as she can when the two guys start their movements, but this time, they pick up the pace, ramming her hard and nonstop.

Each time the two of them is hitting the deepest part of her holes, to the point Jihyo has to use her entire vocal cords to scream out loud

”ARHHHHH !!! FUCKKK !!!! HIT ME DEEPER !!!! FUCKKKK !!!! DON’T STOP FUCKING ME!!!! ARGHHH I FEEL SO FUCKIN GOOD !!!”

Jihyo’s scream is a huge motivation for the two to keep tearing out her holes.

Jihyo, with sweat all over her face down to her heaving tits bouncing up & down, starts groaning in random Korean words that are hard to understand.

Anurak, finally able to open his mouth after a long while panting : "Jihyo, I think I'm close...I will fill your pussy...fuckk...it’s too good!!!! Your pussy is too tight!!!! It’s squeezing my dick hard!!! I… can’t hold it any longer …!!”

Jungwoo, does the best of his abilities, also says out loud : "Jihyo, I love your tight anus …. So much !!! I'm…I'm gonna cum soon too !!!”

Jihyo is still having the time of her life, shouts out straight to their eardrums :

"THEN GO ON AND FUCKING CUM IN ME !!! FLOOD MY HOLES! MAKE ME CUM TOO !! DO IT !!!! DO IT NOW !! FILL ME !!”

And with that, the three cum loudly,, with Jungwoo moans out, shoots his cum straight into Jihyo’s anus, while Anurak, pummels his semen straight into Jihyo’s pussy, mixing his with her messy cum, spill onto their bodies.

The three pause a bit in that position, then Anurak pulls out, with huge blobs of cum flows out from Jihyo’s tight vagina.

Jungwoo then again follows, has his dick being removed from Jihyo’s asshole, leaks some of his to the mat as well.

Jihyo, once again enjoys her pleasure, rolls off Jungwoo and to the side, breathes out hard with her eyes close, full of sweats all over her body, her tits are heaving up & down, and cum leaking out of her holes in thick streams, making the mat’s being stained with cum and sweats.

But, even in her messy state, Jihyo, smiles while knowing that, this is surely not the end of this session.

After a few minutes of rests, the session continues, albeit with full force from the guys.

From having Jihyo being prone bone straight to the mat, tits mash to the flat surface, taking each dick in the two of her holes, filling her entirely and repeatedly, to having Jihyo holds her grips onto the top or second rope, in standing doggy position, being pounded hard from cocks to cocks, as she screams and cum onto the ropes and the mat, covered the whole ring with her cum.

The real highlight, is when Jihyo, while having two cocks in her holes, both of her hands on both side stroke two more dicks, alternate between sucking and stroking left and right, while her eyes are peeking or looking straight to the camera lens.

Jihyo’s lewd but beautiful face, combine with the most sinful acts she could’ve done in her entire career, being recorded on camera is something could come straight out of a porno, but for Jihyo, it’s nothing but an entire adrenaline- filled workout session.

A while later, the four guys later rest themselves in different corners of the ring, with Jihyo in the middle of it to take their breathers.

Jihyo then slowly gets up, plays around with her cum filled pussy while wiping off some of her sweat, asks up :

"Hey guys...one more time...spill on me...make my body covered in cum...let's go...one more final round..."

The four guys lazily gets up, with Anurak moves his body and sore dick onto Jihyo’s tits, moves up and down between her rack.

Chakan and Chalerm soon follow, by letting Jihyo strokes their dicks to prepare for their own titfucks, and lastly Jungwoo finally rises up from his tired self, walks towards the 3.

Anurak, with his dick hard and face’s reddened, getting close to his climax, cries out : "I'm gonna fuckin cum on your tits Jihyo, they're too good not to'

Chakan and Chalerm, both are following their coaches: "we're gonna cum on your pretty face Jihyo, gonna covered that face again"

Last but not least, Jungwoo, while, tired, doing his best to say it out loud : "I'm...fuck ...I'm gonna...cum in your mouth Jihyo...I want you to taste my cum...one last time…”

Jihyo: "DO IT! FUCKIN CUM ON ME! ANYWHERE YOU WANT !! COVER ME IN YOUR CUM !! FUCKIN PAINT ME !! GIVE ME YOUR CUM K.O!!”

In the matter of seconds, Anurak cums hard, spills his thick cum all over Jihyo’s tits and nipples, making a huge mess down below her neck to her rack.

Following by Chakan, who's cum flys straight onto Jihyo’s right side, thick white spurt of cum splashing on to her cheek and nose, with a bit on her forehead.

Chalerm, holds  it in for a while, finally releases it straight to Jihyo’s other cheek, side lips and hair.

Both guys later tap their dicks on each of her big tits, both cocks are smearing the cum onto her nipples while bumping fist with each other, with Jihyo does her best to open her eyes, cum covered, cracks out a huge smile.

Jungwoo, does the same thing he did before, pokes his cock straight to her lips, pushes it in and out Jihyo's mouth for the final drain, and he does proudly, cums straight into her throat, all over her tongue, with a bit onto her front lips, finally finish this long sexual act.

The four guys drop to their knees, finally passing out from the intense rounds of cum draining, all are having their K.O like they just finished a championship match.

Jihyo wipes some of the cum on her face, parts of it from her tits, rise up and shakily walks over the tripod.

Her tits jiggle with cum roll down from her tits to her abs and thighs, while her pussy and anus leak out even more down the inside of her legs, staining the ring floor every steps she makes.

The training session might be wrapped with delays, but nonetheless with her full satisfactions.

Jihyo looks straight to the camera, opens her mouth full of cum, swallows it in one go, then turns back to the guys and says: "So guys, we'll redo the show tomorrow? Will be hella fun hehe~”

[katsu28]

snowfall

pairing: lando norris x best friend!reader

summary: when plans with your family fall through at the last minute, lando invites you to come home with him for the holidays. (3.8k)

a/n: the big finale!!! lando is so best friends to lovers coded, i couldn’t resist. does it snow in the uk in december, probably not but it’s for the plot so bear with me pls <3 happy holidays everyone!!

“Yeah, of course. Yes, mum, I understand. No, I’ll be fine, I promise. Okay. Okay, I love you too. Cheers, see you when you get back.” 

You end the call with a heavy sigh, tossing your phone away from you on the sofa.

That was your mum on the phone, telling you that her and your father wouldn’t be home for Christmas this year. You’d planned on going home to celebrate with them like you always do, but for the first time ever in your life, it looked like you were going to be spending Christmas alone. 

It was bound to happen sometime in your life, really. You’re an adult now, still trying to find your place and your people in this world. 

Speaking of your people, Lando has just made his way into McLaren hospitality, head on a swivel until his eyes land on you. He takes notice of your downtrodden demeanor immediately, marches his way over to where you are with gusto and plops down next to you, bumping his shoulder against yours. 

“What’s wrong?” He asks bluntly, dark brows furrowed in concern. 

You inhale a deep breath, forcing a smile onto your face to respond. “Nothing. How was testing?” 

“Fine. Seriously, what’s going on? Why do you look so sad?” He demands, but not unkindly or rudely. Just simply how Lando is with you, direct and to the point. It’s one of many ways he is around those he cares for. 

“I was planning on going home to spend Christmas with my family, but my parents aren’t going to make it home in time,” You confess. Your finger picks at the loose thread of your sweater sleeve, a welcome distraction from the lump threatening to form in your throat. 

Lando frowns. “Oh. M’sorry to hear that. That sucks.” 

“Yeah. Looks like I’ll be spending the holidays on my own this year.”

“What? No, you can’t spend Christmas alone. That sounds so sad.” 

“I’ll be fine, Lando,” You chuckle, patting his knee. It does indeed sound sad, but you won’t have Lando all worried about you when he should be celebrating with his loved ones. He’s got a lot to celebrate this year, and you don’t want your situation to take away from any of it. “Don’t worry about it.” 

“Come spend Christmas with me.” 

For a moment, you’re at a loss for words. Lando is one of your best friends, sure, but joining him for something like this seems too imposing of you. Despite being close with his family, you can’t do this to them so last minute. After a long year, this is their time with Lando. 

You shake your head immediately, wrinkling your nose. “No way. I wouldn’t want to barge in on your family time.”

“C’mon, you wouldn’t be! My family loves you.” He shrugs. “I mean, you’re basically an honorary Norris already at this point, and I think my sisters might love you more than they love me.” 

That makes you laugh. “Shut up, no they don’t!” 

“Uh, yeah they do.” 

“Okay, maybe they do. I’m just that easy to love.” 

“Yeah, you are,” He says, smiling softly. Your head cocks to the side at the pure warmth in his tone, and it seems to make him snap out of whatever trance he’s in, because he gives his head a subtle shake. “Seriously, come home with me. It’ll be fun. Way more fun than just sitting around at home watching those boring home improvement shows you seem to like so much.” 

“Hey! Those shows are fun!” You huff, swatting him on the thigh. 

“Sure they are,” He says, still unbelieving. “So what do you say? Christmas with the Norrises, how ‘bout it?” 

You let out a breathy chuckle, nodding. “Okay. Yeah, that sounds lovely.” 

“Mint! I’ll go let my mum know.” He beams, bouncing to his feet. “Better let Flo and Cisca know too, they’d kill me if I brought you round and didn't tell them ahead of time.” 

“Lando?” You call after him. He whirls around with an arched brow, phone already in hand. “Thank you.” 

“Of course. I’d never let you spend the holidays alone.”  

Looks like this Christmas might not be so bad after all. 

-------

The first thing you hear when you climb out of the car at Lando’s family’s house is a shout of your name. 

Before you can even register who might be calling you, a little body crashes into your legs, arms wrapping around your knees tightly. Now you know who it is, and you grin. 

“Why hello, miss Mila!” You chirp, kneeling down to be at her level. She giggles loudly at the finger you boop against her nose, throwing her arms around your neck as best she can, and you lift her up onto your hip. “Are you excited for Christmas?” 

“Christmas!” She cheers. Lando wanders over to the two of you from the boot of the car at that moment, and the second Mila spots him, she grins even wider than you’d thought was possible. “Lala!!!” She squeals, reaching out for him. 

Lando takes her into his arms, swings her around a little bit, beaming brightly at the peals of laughter that escape her with every swing. “My goodness, you’ve grown! You might be almost as big as me now!” 

Lando’s brother, Oliver, emerges from around the house now with his other daughter nestled in his arms, raising his free hand in greeting as he makes his way over. 

“Guess my brother finally gathered the nerve,” He says cheerfully, clapping Lando on the back. Lando not-so-subtly steps on Oliver’s foot, garnering a hiss of pain from the older Norris. “To…make it home when it’s still bright out! Yeah, he usually doesn’t come around til the girls have gone off to bed.” 

“It’s nice to see you too, Oliver,” You chuckle, pushing aside your confusion as you give a small wave to the toddler in her father’s arms. She waves back shyly. “Thanks for letting me join you guys this year.” 

“Please, you’re welcome here anytime,” Oliver replies, sounding more than sincere. “C’mon, let’s head inside. Mum and everyone’ll be stoked to see you.” 

Mila wriggles out of Lando’s arms to come hold your hand, dragging you towards the house excitedly. You don't notice Lando and Oliver dropping back, nor the hushed conversation they have that is definitely about you. 

Much like both boys have said, the rest of their family welcomes you with open arms.

His parents tell you how good it is to see you again, and that they’re happy you’d decided to come home with Lando, Flo and Cisca glue themselves to your side immediately to catch up with you, even little Athena starts to warm up to you the longer she watches her older sister play with you. 

You feel right at home with all of them like you always do, and it makes you start to forget about spending your first Christmas without your own family. Though, in a way, Lando’s family is starting to feel like yours too. 

-------

It’s Christmas Eve and you can’t sleep. You’ve been at Lando’s house a few days now and everything’s been great—the food, the company. Lando. 

You’re used to him being a little forward with his affections towards others, because that’s just the way he is. So when he pulls your legs over his lap while you’re watching a holiday film with the whole family, or rests his head on your shoulder during Monopoly, you don’t think anything of it at first. He likes cozying up to friends and being close to them. But as the days go on, it starts to feel different this time. 

At first you just assume it’s because he doesn’t want you to feel awkward, but then you catch him staring at you a few times in a way you can only describe as pure fondness. While you're on the sofa cuddled up with Mila and Athena watching one of their shows. As you're helping Cisca figure out what to wear for her next date with her boyfriend, or helping his mum in the kitchen. 

It could be platonic, but it feels a little too intimate to be so. 

You don’t want to think too much into it, though. It wouldn’t do you any good to get your hopes up about the possibility of something more with Lando when it could just be all in your head. 

Sitting up in bed, you scrub your hands over your face. Too many thoughts run their way through your brain for you to fall back asleep, no matter how tired you may be. You glance out the window beside you, and suddenly your attention is captured at the scene outside. 

It’s snowing. 

Sure, it’s an ungodly late hour, but seeing snow makes you want to go outside. Doing your absolute best not to wake anyone up as you swing yourself out of bed and creep down the hallway, you make your way down the corridor to Lando’s bedroom. 

You knock on his door quietly, listening for anything that could give away whether or not Lando was up. For a few seconds, there isn’t a sound. Then you hear the clacking of a keyboard and the faint sound of him talking, and you know he’s awake. He probably didn’t hear you knock. 

Pushing open the door slowly, you pad into the room to see him slouched over in his gaming chair with his back towards you.

“Yeah, mate, I’m gonna tell her—no, I’m not! Fuck off,” He says. There’s a lengthy pause—whoever he’s on call with is talking, you assume. “I’m just—I’m waiting for the right time. Like, I’ll know when it comes, won’t I?” 

Your heart gives an involuntary pang in your chest and you sigh, having already had enough eavesdropping on this conversation. 

You pad towards Lando, going for a gentle tap on the shoulder. Your hand just barely touches his arm, but he jumps about a foot in the air, flinching so hard you think the poor boy might’ve given himself whiplash.

“Jesus! What the—don’t sneak up on me like that!” He yelps, pushing one side of his headphones above his ear. On the screen, you can see he’s playing Tarkov again. Alway playing Tarkov instead of sleeping, that boy. 

This time, it works out for you. Now you can drag out into the snow with you. Not that you weren’t going to do it anyways even if he was asleep.

“You couldn’t hear me! What was I supposed to do?” You huff. Squinting at the other username on screen, you smile, pushing into Lando’s space to reach his microphone. “Is that Max? Hi, Max!” 

Lando’s voice sounds a bit strangled when he relays Max’s response a few moments later. “He says hi.” 

“What else did he say?” 

“What? Nothing,” He replies quickly, swallowing hard. “Why?” 

“That was such a long pause, there’s no way he just said hi.” 

“Well, he did, so…it’s whatever. What’s, uh, what’s up? Everything okay?” 

Now you remember what you came here for. Grinning, you bounce on the balls of your feet. “There’s snow outside!” 

“No way!” He says earnestly, cocking his head to the side. He abandons his game in favor of shuffling over to the window and peering outside, letting out a pleased little noise when he sees that it is indeed snowing out in the garden. “That’s wicked.”  

“Will you come outside with me?” 

He exhales sharply, giving an amused chuckle. “Yeah, right. I’m not going outside.” 

“It’ll be fun!” 

“Don’t see what’s so fun about freezing my ass off in the cold,” He grumbles, but you can tell he just needs a little more convincing. You jut out your lower lip, giving him the pout of yours that he can never seem to withstand, and his resolve starts to crumble. “No, don’t do that. Stop that right now. I’m not going outside with you at this time of night.” 

“Please, Lan?” You plead, taking his face into your palms so he can’t look away. For a split second, his gaze seems to flicker down to your lips, but before you can process the tiny movement, he’s squeezing his eyes shut. 

“Oh my god, fine,” He groans, shoulders sagging. You beam, wrapping your arms around him in a quick hug. “Let me go tell Max I’m being held against my will and then we can go.” He crosses back over to his desk and mutters something into the microphone that you can’t quite make out. 

As you’re pulling on layers to guard yourselves from the cold, he pauses, turning to you with one shoe on. “You didn’t, erm, happen to hear anything when you came in to get me, did you?” 

“No, why?” 

You’re not sure why you choose to lie about what you’d overheard, something about Lando telling some girl something at the right time. He hadn’t told you anything about having a crush on anyone, but then again, these past few weeks have been hectic. 

“Oh, nothing. Just wondering.” He pulls the front door open right then, suddenly seeming so eager to get outside despite his previous grievances. Something in his tone hints that it might not be as nothing as he says it is, but you won’t push. 

You traipse out into the garden after him, making careful sure to close the door behind you so the cold doesn’t seep in. Fresh powder crunches underfoot as you make your way further out. 

The falling snow has already begun to coat everything out here in layers, and you drag your finger through it, smiling to yourself at the clean cut line it makes.

It feels like another world out here. In a life that is so often always hustle and bustle all the time, the quiet of this time of night in the countryside seems deafening, but in the best way. Peaceful can only begin to describe how you feel right now. 

“Why is it so fucking cold out here?” Lando grumbles, burrowing deeper into his three scarves. Along with the two jumpers and thick coat he’d shoved himself into before even stepping foot outside, he looks well freezing.

“Don’t be such a grinch, Lan. It’s snowing!” 

He scowls. “It’s freezing.” 

“C’mon, at least try to have some fun! You’re killing my vibe, mate,” You huff, bending down to scoop up a loose handful of snow to chuck in his direction. It scatters into the air before it even makes it to him, but hey, at least he’s laughing now. You turn to say something else, but you’re immediately stopped in your tracks. 

A snowball explodes against your forehead before you can say a thing, spraying bits of icy snow everywhere. 

“Oh fuck, I’m sorry!” Lando yelps, nearly tripping on his own feet in his scramble towards you. You’re too stunned by the snow dripping its way down your face to even register his words. “I wasn’t aiming for your face, I swear! Are you okay?” 

You blink owlishly at him, at the concern and horror mixing in his expression as he takes you by the shoulders to check you out. He uses his teeth to pull off one glove, tossing it off to the side as he reaches to brush the snow from anywhere he can reach.

“For a professional athlete, you really do have shit aim,” You huff, playful annoyance in your tone. 

Lando’s teeth dig into his bottom lip, eyes crinkling happily at the corners as he giggles quietly. “I know. S’terrible, innit? Good thing my job doesn’t require me to do any throwing.” 

“Good thing,” You echo. 

His palms cup the expanse of your cheeks, the pads of his thumbs brushing across your cold skin delicately, and he’s looking at you in that way again, the way that makes you feel like you’re the only other one in the world. Blue-green eyes like sea glass flit around your face, thick brows furrowing ever so slightly as he inches forward. Slowly, like he’s giving you a way out if what he’s about to do isn’t what you want. 

You’re holding your breath as he gets closer, closer, closer, until—

Fireworks. 

As if kissing your best friend isn’t cliche enough, all you can describe of the feeling of his lips against yours is fireworks, bursting in your chest like little explosions. 

“Wait—” You breathe, splaying a hand across Lando’s chest to push him back a bit before the kiss can go on any longer. Despite how much you want it to continue. He makes some sort of displeased noise out the back of his throat, pink lips turning down into a pout. “What about the other girl?” 

That gets him to pull back a little more, head cocking and nose scrunching in genuine confusion. “What other girl?” 

“I lied. I did hear you talking when I came into your room, you said something about waiting for the right time to tell her something. You can’t be kissing me if you like someone else, Lando!” You exclaim incredulously. 

He regards you blankly for a few seconds. Then he starts to laugh. You’re trying to save his ass and he’s laughing at you. You scowl at him. “Why the fuck are you laughing?” 

“Oh! Oh, that was so good! That was gold, really,” He splutters, tears in his eyes. You swat indignantly at him and he holds up his hands in surrender, doing his best to catch his breath. “There is no other girl, you muppet! I was talking about you.” 

“Oh.” 

“Yeah, oh. Guess this is the right time then, huh?” He says, chuckling nervously as he rubs at his reddened nose. “So, here goes it. I think I’m in love with you.” 

“Why?” You ask, disbelieving. It’s a blunt response, you’re fully aware, but you want to know. 

“What d’you mean, why? Have you met you?” He scoffs, like he’s astonished you even have the nerve to question him. “You’re amazing. You’re kind and funny and so smart, and you make people happy—you make me happy, even when I’ve had the absolute shittiest day, I know everything’ll be fine as soon as you find me. You know what I need, even when I don’t know what I need.” 

You’re at a loss for words hearing all this now. How has Lando been in love with you all this time, with you none the wiser? 

“Why’ve you never said anything?” You ask softly.

Lando smiles almost sadly, letting his hands drop back down to his sides. “You’re one of my best friends. I’d rather keep my mouth shut if telling you meant losing you. Losing what we have because you didn’t feel the same way.” 

That, you understand. The fear of ruining your friendship with Lando is one of the reasons why you’d kept your feelings for him secret as well. So to both of you, it was better to ignore your feelings and stay this close than to let the other know and possibly lose one of the best things in your lives. 

“We’re idiots,” You sigh, closing your eyes. 

“You’re not an idiot,” He says immediately. Then he frowns. “Wait, why would you be an idiot? I know I am, but why you?” 

You grab Lando by the collar of his puffy jacket, pulling him into a firm kiss. If he’s surprised, it only shows for a split second before he’s kissing you back fervently, drawing you flush against him by the hips. His nose against your cheek is much colder than before, but the warmth that spreads from your chest down to your toes is more than enough to remedy it. 

“Please tell me that means you do feel the same way,” He pants, looking entirely dazed when you pull away. 

You raise an amused brow at him. “No, I just kissed the living daylights out of you because I don’t feel the same way—what do you think?” 

“Best Christmas gift ever, is what I think.” He smiles warmly. Then he shivers, blowing out a sharp breath. “Now can we please go back inside? I can’t feel my face anymore.” 

Once you’re inside and have shed your coats and shoes and anything else wet with snow, Lando nudges you towards the kitchen. “I’ll make us some hot cocoa.” He murmurs, quiet so as to not wake anyone in the house. You pause, causing him to look back at you. “What?” 

“The package kind or the real kind?” 

“What sort of question is that? The real kind, of course,” He snorts. “With milk and everything.” 

“Oh, you do love me!” You say gleefully.

Lando rolls his eyes playfully, giving your hand a firmer tug that has you sliding right in under his arm on your socked feet.

Despite all his moaning and groaning about being cold, he’s pleasantly warm, and you sigh, nuzzling in closer. He welcomes your closeness, dropping a kiss to the side of your head as he shuffles his way towards the pots and pans cupboard with you latched onto him, not even trying to wriggle out of your grasp.

It feels natural because you’ve always been close. Though now, things have changed. Now, you can kiss him if you want to, instead of wondering what Lando would do if you did it. You’re not just friends to each other anymore. 

You press your lips against his quickly as he’s piling marshmallows on top of two mugs of hot cocoa, pulling back right after just to see his reaction to the impromptu kiss.

As expected, his mouth curves into a grin, dimples on full display. He flicks a marshmallow at you, and you reciprocate, tilting your chin up at him in challenge.

Soon enough, now you’re both chucking the tiny white sweets at each other, trying and failing to catch them into your mouths. The first of you to catch one of them is you, and you cheer, flinging your hands in the air. 

“Oh my god, shush, you! People are sleeping!” He breathes, lunging forward to press a hand over your mouth as you’re mid-shout.

Your eyes widen in comical realization and it makes him laugh, which makes you laugh. His hand falls from your face as you both fall apart in quiet giggles. 

You’re laughing because he’s laughing, he’s laughing because you’re laughing, and neither of you can stop until your sides hurt. 

“C’mere,” He murmurs, stepping in close and sliding a hand around the back of your neck. His gaze flits all around your face, taking in the sight of you with eyes that twinkle with happiness even in the darkness of the kitchen. "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, Lan." You smile.

He kisses you then, long and sweet and with such gentleness that it makes your stomach do somersaults. 

In the morning, you’ll need to figure out how you’ll play things with Lando’s family, and then everything after. But not now.

For now, you’ll watch the snow fall outside while you snuggle up on the sofa with the boy you love and a mug of not so hot cocoa. 

So maybe this Christmas hadn’t gone exactly as you’d planned, but really, you aren’t too sad about it anymore. You wouldn’t have it any other way. 

follow @katsu-library to be notified when i post new writing :)

[vanesycho]

• bf!hyunjin x f!reader | m.list

| let's just say you get 'very excited' after see your boyfriend's new haircut

warning | fingering, oral(f receiving), p in v, unprotected sex

word count | 1k

enjoy reading！

❝ Is a haircut really enough to get you this high? ❞

oh.

This was exactly your reaction when you saw the message from your boyfriend saying 'I got a buzzcut.'

Everything definitely suited him but this move was unexpected and caught you completely off guard. He had long hair since you knew him and now even imagining him like this made butterflies fly in your stomach. And the fact that he was going to be back home in a few hours made it hard for you to stay still.

As a result of your waiting, you were startled by the sound of a door, Hyunjin left his extra belongings in a corner and let out a tired breath. "Baby?" when you heard his call, your steps started to pull towards him. But the difference you saw made you stop in your tracks, you looked at your boyfriend you weren't used to for a while, when Hyunjin noticed your look, his tired face disappeared and he approached you with a smile. "Surprise?" his arms wrapped tightly around your waist and without waiting, he pulled you to him and buried his face in your neck, mumbled "mm..i missed you.."

You grabbed his shoulders and pushed him lightly so you had a chance to look at his face better. He was...the hottest man you'd ever seen in the world and he belongs to you. Hyunjin looked at your unresponsive face, started examining your face in the same way as if he was trying to figure out if you liked it or not "So...do you like it?" instead of talking, you preferred to give him an answer by kissing him, and Hyunjin accepted it with pleasure, grabbed your hips and pulled you hard to him. After a long kiss, you whispered the moment you pulled back "I don't think I can put into words how sexy you look right now."

He chuckled briefly at your frankness, tilted his head slightly to the side and spoke teasingly "Really? Maybe you can show me that, baby." you grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him into another kiss. Hyunjin, noticing how eager and impatient you were, laughed between kisses and picked you up without waiting, walking towards the room without parting your lips.

He pulled back as soon as your back reached the soft bed and helped you take off your clothes before throwing his own clothes in a corner. Even though he was impatient like you, he wanted to take it slow. Spread your legs and get between them without breaking eye contact "Is a haircut really enough to get you this high?" his fingers went to your pussy, you let out a moan as he caressed your clit with slow movements "N-no. You're enough to get me high. N-not your hair." he grinned, the compliment he received made his cock twitch completely "ah..how sweet." he mumbled and after that sentence he leaned down and sucked your clit while inserting two fingers inside you, you let out a loud moan, instead of starting his movements slowly he started to fully exploit your pussy.

You whined wanting more, your hand went to his head, you moved your hips with the new feeling you felt instead of his long hair and pressed him against you. Hyunjin responded to every one of your movements, his tongue moving rapidly on your clit while his fingers curled inside you and made you pour all your juices onto his fingers with a fast pace "Hyun- f-fuck.. I'm close..I- oh fuck." your head went back in pleasure, his tongue and fingers were already skilled, but the feelings that were triggered inside you the moment you saw him would make you cum even faster. Hyunjin didn't slow down, he buried his head between your legs and continued until you cum. And when you reach your peak, he didn't stop until all your cum was wrapped around his fingers, he sucked your clit one last time and tried to catch his breath "Good job baby..oh shit look at this mess.." he said under his breath while looking at the cum flowing from your pussy.

He gave you a while to catch your breath, filled this space with many kisses but he couldn't hold it anymore, his cock was aching in pain and he needed you. He pulled back while his face was buried in your neck and rubbed his dick against your pussy. Hyunjin whimpered as soon as the tip entered, slowly pushed more into you, feeling all your walls, he let out a loud moan and buried his face in your neck again "You feel so..g-good, god you're going to make me go crazy.." his hips moved without hesitation, he was hitting with slow but hard movements, each of his breaths tickling your neck.

Hyunjin was putting his whole cock inside you, he wanted you to feel every inch of him. His arms wrapped around you, your legs wrapped around his waist and the occasional kisses on your neck, your bodies were completely one. "Faster.. please Hyun..I can't take it-" he didn't wait for you to finish your sentence, his hips started moving in fast movements, he lifted his head and held one of your hands, pinning it to the bed, your eyes locked as a few drops of sweat ran down his forehead.

The room was filled with just the moans of pleasure between the two of you, your wetness mixed together "I'm close, baby. It won't...take long for me to come." Hyunjin spoke breathlessly, pumping his cock hard inside you, begging to cum. His rapid breaths turned into a tearful moan, close to cumming, as you prepared yourself for a second orgasm. A few strokes later, your second orgasm hit you, Hyunjin came right after you and came out of you, his cum spilling onto your belly. Hyunjin threw himself directly next to you and tried to catch his breath. "Fuck...I should've cut my hair earlier." you laughed at his mumbled sentence and moved closer to him. He immediately took you under his arms. "Like I said, you're perfect in every way, it's not just about your hair." he grinned, lowering his head towards you. "Thank you, baby. I expected you to like it, this reaction was even more than I expected. But I'm definitely not complaining."

[ayukas]

18+ mdni

dry humping w/ nct dream 𖦹ࡇ𖦹

mark

dry humping with mark often starts when he's too tired to fully engage but still wants to satisfy you. he's stretched thin from schedules and late-night recordings, so his usual energy is depleted. you can't help but take advantage of his exhaustion though, wanting to please him in return for all the nights he's worshipped you. you carefully climb onto his lap, grinding against him while he lazily leans back, hands weakly gripping your hips. "fuck baby, i can't... too tired..." he mumbles, only to let out a gutteral groan when you press against him just right. the way his breathing turns ragged is so addictive, and soon he's thanking you in between pants, his fatigue melting into the pleasure you're giving him.

"fuuuck, needed this so bad. you're so good to me."

renjun

with renjun, it's the unspoken tension during quiet, intimate moments that get to you both. movie nights are his favourite way to unwind, but when his hand starts to idly roam up your thigh, you know it's only a matter of time. it's subtle at first—his lips casually brushing against your ear under the guise of a comment about the movie, or the way his soft fingers play around the hem of your shirt. before you know it, he's pulling you onto his lap, his voice low and filled with a mix of affection and need. "fuck—we're not even halfway through with the movie," he murmurs, breath warm against your ear as his hips push up to meet yours,

"but i just can't wait any longer."

jeno

for jeno, dry humping is an impatient, messy ordeal. it's unrestrained and raw, with sweat beading on both your foreheads as he grips your waist with bruising strength. the friction builds too fast, too strong, and within minutes, he's already trembling beneath you, gasping for air. "baby, please... can't take it anymore," he whines, voice breaking as he pleads to feel you fully. his desperation is palpable, and even though he tries his best to hold back, it never lasts long. the second he feels you grinding just right, your swollen clit grazing over his tip, he's begging with wide, lust-filled eyes,

"can i put it in, please? fuck, just the tip—i swear it'll feel so good..."

hyuck

dry humping with haechan always starts off as a battle of wills. he's glued to his computer, headset on, shouting profanities at his screen, but it's just so hot that you can't help but want to distract him. you straddle him quickly, blocking his view, and his whiny protests quickly morph into high-pitched moans when you starting grinding your heat against him. "baby, i was in the middle of a game!" he complains, though his hands immediately grab your hips to guide your movements, his hips jerking up to gain more friction. he's loud, burying his face in your neck as he lets out the most sinful noises. "fuuuck, you feel so fucking good," he groans, fingers digging into the plush of your thighs.

"you win, baby—ahh—just don't stop… fuck—please."

jaemin

jaemin is the king of control. he knows exactly how to drive you crazy. he's so smug and cocky, leaning back as he watches you struggle to keep your composure while grinding against him. it should piss you off, how he seems to be so unaffected while you're desperately trying to chase your high. "is this all you've got?" he teases, his tone dripping with mockery. he refuses to give in until you're utterly desperate, using the friction between your thin silk panties and his rough jeans to bring yourself to the brink while staying frustratingly composed himself. "c'mon baby, you can do better than this..." he taunts, his grip on your hips tightening just enough to make you shiver. and when you finally push him over the edge, his smirk only grows wider as he coos,

"good job baby, now lets see how much more desperate you can get for nana, hm?"

chenle

for chenle, the thrill is half the fun. he's all about the risk, pulling you into the backseat of his car even when your friends have only stepped away to grab some snacks at the petrol station. the mere idea of someone catching the two of you only spurs him on, getting him harder than ever. after all, he's just a whore for exhibitionism. "shh, you don't want our friends to see you like this, do you?" he whispers with a mischievous grin, though his own breathing is uneven as he grinds against you. his hands roam everywhere, tugging at your clothes just enough to make you squirm. the tension is electrifying, and he can’t hide the satisfied smirk when he feels you trembling above him.

"see? told you it'd be worth it."

jisung

jisung is so needy, it's overwhelming. just being near you has him worked up, but he's too shy to articulate exactly what he wants from you. instead, he opts to cling onto you, his big, veiny hands wandering all over your body shamelessly as he presses his hips against yours with little control. "need you s'bad, please..." he stammers out, face flushed as he buries it against your shoulder. it's sweet in its desperation, his inexperience making him all the more endearing. he's a mess of shaky hands and ragged breaths, and when he finally lets go, he's holding onto you like you're his lifelife, whispering pleas while trembling as ropes of his release stain the inside of his boxers.

"ahh fuuuck, you're amazing."

[greatw0r]

DOMESTIC MOMENTS with sevika ✶ sevika x female reader -> just fluff and happy christmas everyone !

˖ ࣪⭑

waiting for her to come home, it's late and cold- she walks in and quiet as she thinks you're asleep " hi sev " you said softly from the couch and she turns around with an frown.

" I tought you were asleep honey " she said and walked over to the couch, pulling your legs to her lap caressing them soflty.

" I wanted to wait for you " you said resting your head on your hand. " I can't sleep well without you anyways " you smiled soflty and so did she . She could see the tired look in your face and how you were about to dooze off.

She was tired herself but she got up and scooped you in her big arms, lifting you without a struggle. " let's get you to bed now , I'm here " she said and walked to your room , gently putting you on the bed and pulling the covers on top of you.

" want me to give you a massage ? You look like you need one " you said making yourself comfortable under the bed, watching her change to some more comfortable clothes and take off her heavy boots.

" you look like you'd fall asleep on top of me- its okay doll thankyou anyway " she said with an chukle watching your eyes threatening to close for once.

she took off her ponytail and got into the bed, immediately pulling you close to her body and you happily let her, feeling the warmth that came from her body.

" I love you " you whispered into the comfortable silence, and she tightened her grip you. "I love you too sweet thing"

˖ ࣪⭑

" you know what we should do ? " jinx's voice loud and a little to annoying for sevika.

" what ? " you asked from your spot on the couch, jinx laying upside-down with her head on the end of the couch and legs on the top.

" we should totally cook something ! I'm starving and so is Isha " she said and little Isha nodded agreeing .

" last time you were in my kitchen you nearly exploded it all off " sevika groaned and you chuckled patting her thigh.

" well she was alone- I'm sure us four could do something eatable " you said and winked at jinx who squealed and jumped off the couch heading to the kitchen, Isha running after her.

" she's going to burn our house " sevika said and you kissed her cheek , wiping the lipstick off her. " if we keep an eye on her she won't- cmon " you said and got up, grabbing her arm and pulling her off the couch- her rolling her eyes with an huff.

As you two walked into the kitchen jinx already had eggs, milk, butter and other ingredients you didn't remember you had . " oh slow down- maybe don't empty our fridge yes ? " sevika said looking around the mess.

" jinx- what are you making ? " you asked and she turned around with her hands up.

" pancakes duh ? - Isha requested " jinx said and Isha smiled.

" do you know ... how to do it ? " you asked and sat down on the kitchen table- sevika following you and Isha immediately runned to her, getting lifted by her arm

" of course ! can't be that hard " she said and you nodded . cut to everything getting done and surprisingly it was good- not great but- definitely eatable.

" see ? I'm a professional " jinx said and you feed sevika a bite, watching her eyebrowns go up in surprise.

" right- don't feed her ego tho " sevika mumbled to you and you laughed.

˖ ࣪⭑

" here " sevika said watching you get ready, handing you a box simply decorated but with love, your name written with a heart in the end- that had to be jinx's work. you turned to her with an smile .

" it's not midnight yet " you said and grabbed it from her hands. " I know- but ... I wanted you to wear it while we're having dinner and-.... I already told you what it is " she sighed and shaked her head.

" oh sev its alright- " you said and opened the box, revealing a long dark brown dress- you look at her and at her dark brown bottom up shirt. isn't she adorable.

" it's beautiful... you just wanted to match huh ? " you smirked and took the dress out of the box.

" It was jinx's idea... but she made a good point " she said and watched you get undressed .

" and what it was ? " you asked putting the dress on

" we are a couple- you're the women of my life and she said couples to this- match and all " she said wanting to sound like she didn't put much thought to it when all that was going on in her head was if you really like the dress and the meaning behind it.

" that we are ... " you smiled and adjusted the dress. " can you help me with the - " you didn't have to finish- her hands were already on your back, lifting the zipper up and giving your shoulders a squeeze.

" thankyou- I love it - we look beautiful " you said looking at the two of you trough the mirror and sevika smiled, pressing her chin on your head and wrapping her arms around your waist.

" we sure do " she said and kissed the top of your head.

" you're gonna have to wait until midnight for yours " you said and she turned you to her. " that's no problem angel " she said and kissed you reaching her hand to cup your cheek and pull you closer-

" I guess I'm a brilliant advisor " jinx's voice stopped your moment and she laughed- making sevika groan.

" you are now shoo- go see whats Isha up to " you laughed and kissed sevika back -

[fledgedragonfox]

Secondary Colors & Tertiary Souls

Two lovers have reincarnated throughout history, destined to find each other and fall in love all over again. There’s also this third guy that reincarnates alongside them… we don’t really know what he does.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I've honestly lost track of how many times I've been here. Watching from the outside as they found each other again. Sometimes they remember, sometimes they don't. But they always find each other. And sometimes they find me. But never in a way that matters. I came close once. Violet came back as a beautiful young woman and I happened to be a strapping young man from a noble family.

This was way back when dragons were still trouncing around the countryside. I was her betrothed, and I was so happy. But then she found Forest, as one of the most gorgeous dragons I'd ever seen. To be fair every other gorgeous dragon was either Violet or Forest in another life, but still. He was breathtaking. He stole her away, and they lived happily ever after. 

I don't like to think about how bad things were after they left. I'd like to think that if I came that close to them again I'd handle things better. No elderberry wine and cliff edges for me, thank you very much.

But, well…

It's hard to keep going like this.

There’s a legend about us you know? Two souls, born into the world over and over again. They always find each other. And every time, their love burns through the barriers of forgotten times, and they embrace. Every time, they come back and without fail, a third appears. No one quite knows why, but the third soul is always present. Either in passing, or as a foe, or even a friend. Some say that when the three meet, you can sense it happen. But always it is the lovers, and their shadow. 

They were an orcish warrior and an adorable scholar. I was a merchant passing through their village.

They were a pair of rebellious halflings. I was an elf who barely had a chance to speak to them before the war.

They were a lake spirit and a knight. While I was an ogre he'd been tricked into slaying.

They were a priest and a fair maiden. I was a dangerous lich, despite only using my powers to heal.

They were a bookseller and a musclehead. I was just a regular at the coffee shop they frequented. That time we became pretty good friends. 

They were starcrossed lovers, an astronaut and an alien. And I worked on mission control millions of miles away.

I get to see them come together again and again and again. But I never get a chance. Sometimes we see each other in the interim. The place between life and death. Sometimes they remember me from the previous life, those are the best moments of my existence. We talk, reminisce, apologize, and promise to remember next time. But they rarely ever do. And even if they do, they almost never remember me.

Right now, I'm a bartender. Serving drinks to assholes all night long. Night after night. Last time the higher ups apologized again for the trouble with my memories. They promised that this time things would be different. This time, when I die again, I won't have to come back. My paradise has been waiting for almost a thousand years, and will still be there when I'm ready. I might be ready to just rest, and let them keep up this asinine cycle they have going. 

That’s when I see them. Violet is a tall man wearing a black turtleneck. He looks so kind, like he always does. Forest is a large man, with a thick beard and a wide smile. They are perfect. Just like always. Even when Violet’s sword was cutting through me, or when Forest was soaring away with Violet in his claws. They were smiling at each other, their hands clasped in each others’ as they danced to the pulsing music. They had matching rings on, married once again. 

They glance in my direction and slow in their dance. I fumble, dropping the tumbler in my hands all over the bar. Sticky booze and ice scatter across the surface and soak my apron. I swear quietly, trying desperately to mop up the mess before it could drip onto any customers. I may be set in the afterlife, but here I need this damned job. I jump when paper towels gently move my frantic hands out of the way. My breath catches in my throat. 

They were here. Frantically setting up a paper towel barricade with the help of the security nearby. My hands are shaking. I’m smaller in this life. Lanky, and awkward, and too many stuttered out excuses. I hadn’t really been taking care of myself this time around, if I’m being honest. Forest takes my hands, trying to stop their shaking. My eyes snap to his and I feel it. Oh this one was going to hurt. These ones always did. He remembered me, or at least something about me. I was a homeless man last time. I lashed out in frustration when I saw them walking down the street. They later visited me sometimes after I apologized. They brought me sandwiches sometimes. Then the cycle started again.

“It’s you.” He said. His voice isn’t angry or sad. It’s a soft voice full of awe. I will fully admit that I am beyond confused. We must have been standing here a while because Violet finishes cleaning and looks at us. I expect him to lash out or question his husband, whatever his name is this time. But he doesn’t. He looks at me, and starts to tear up. He remembers too. This is going to really suck. Last time I was so tired and sick. This time I’m a pathetic lanky loser. It’s been a few minutes, both of their hands are clasping mine. I can’t look at them. I keep my gaze to the floor. This will be the last time. I promise myself that, at the end of this one I am staying in the after. 

“Pumpkin.” The name, the name I’ve only ever used sparingly in the after. They said my name. I can feel myself crying as I look at them. Their gazes are full of sorrow, regret, awe, and something that they had only ever had for each other. Forest guides me around the bar, the pair nearly jumping over the counter. The other patrons and bartenders give us strange, knowing, looks. Then they hug me. Well, envelope me more like. They are both bigger than me. They wrap themselves around my soggy boozy body. 

“We’re so so sorry.” Violet mutters into my hair. Forest it patting my front down with paper towels, muttering apologies and explanations that I barely hear. It takes me a few minutes to catch up. But I can still feel it. I feel a shift in myself. Like something slotting into place. 

“You remember…” My voice is a whisper, and I begin to sob when they nod and pull me in between them. They remember. Maybe they’ll want to stay with me in paradise. Maybe this life won’t be quite so bad. They’re running through names I’ve had in the past, some that even I barely recall. When they kiss me, one after the other, it feels like all of the pain is being seared away. 

I’m not a shadow anymore.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

OK! I'm probably gonna make more of these at some point but here we go! A writing prompt for chrimmas!

If you're interested, I have a patreon and unfortunately a gofundme available if you want to support me.

All of the details for the gofundme can be found on the gofundme page, I promise.

Pareon: https://patreon.com/A_M_W_Harris?utm_medium=unknown&utm_source=join_link&utm_campaign=creatorshare_creator&utm_content=copyLink Gofundme: https://gofund.me/d271f0c4

Two lovers have reincarnated throughout history, destined to find each other and fall in love all over again. There’s also this third guy that reincarnates alongside them… we don’t really know what he does.

[shiny-jr]

damnation (peek VII?)

Warning: Yes, this is a yandere thing. Gender-neutral reader.

Characters: Sebek Zigvolt, Silver, Lilia Vanrouge, Malleus Draconia.

Summary: When you commit a crime, you receive a punishment. This is especially true in your society. No matter the crime, your punishment is the same: banishment. But to where you will be sent in exile and how miserable will it be? No one knows, because no one has ever returned.

Note: This is for y'all that supported me throughout the latest situation. NEVER EVER let it be said that I don't cherish my readers. Remember, this is NOT the full damnation Diasomnia chapter, just a fourth of it. A peek. Keep that in mind. Things are subject to change or rewrite. May not be completed in time for the milestone, but I wanted to give y'all this anyways. I sincerely hope you enjoy this slice.

I . . . II . . . III . . . IV . . . V . . . VI . . . VII

THE MASTER OF ALL EVIL

A mask. There was a mask of cold black metal settled on the upper half of your face. It was cold, smooth against your cheeks. This was new. It wasn’t some sort of blindfold, as you could see perfectly and last you heard, they never blinded their prisoners. Concealing an evil-doer’s vision during their banishment was considered a small mercy, something they wouldn’t do, and the judges wanted each sinner to see the fate that awaited them. 

A supposedly horrid fate, but what sort of cruel end required you to wear a plate of armor and a warm cloak? Over your chest, your hand traced the curves and swirls on a metallic chest plate, reaching the black fabric over your shoulders and extending down your back. Removing the mask over your face and turning it in your hands to examine it, the empty eye holes of a feathered fiend stared back at you. The accessory resembled a bird, dark feathers carefully forged into the mask as the end curved into a sharpened beak. It was slightly unsettling, somewhat resembling the type of mask a plague doctor would don during the middle ages in times of peril. 

On the ground, just past the mask you were staring down at, were shreds of paper which caught your attention. It looked as if something or someone had torn a sheet to shreds and disregarded them in the middle of this dark and dreary hallway. Upon kneeling down to pick up a few pieces, your eyebrows furrowed as you attempted to piece them back together like a puzzle. 

Piece after piece, you managed to somewhat make out the painted image despite the face of a crowned figure being burnt black beyond recognition, but the rest of the image could somewhat be salvaged at least enough to draw a conclusion. A taller faceless crowned figure in garbs, beside a queen, holding a bundled baby in their arms that had been torn straight through. Below, on the aged paper was written text reading: Announcing the birth of the princess. A holiday is to be proclaimed throughout the entire kingdom in honor of the princess. 

Why did this all seem so awfully familiar? 

Slowly standing, you jumped upon hearing the rumbling start of thunder. Outside, past the window, dark storm clouds gathered in a hurry above a dense forest and towering wall of thorns. Thorns! Thorns so tall that even from afar, they looked as big as a house! 

“Oh… my god.” You whisper in slight horror. 

The royal family and birth of a princess, a deep dark forest, a deadly wall of thorns–– these were all part of a story. These were points of a fictional story, and yet you were here. Here, somewhere, in a corridor where the walls were dark stone bricks and a long carpet ran along the floor. How did you play into this? The bird-like mask still in your hands and staring back at you, appeared to answer that. The only bird in the story was a black-feathered one, which served as the villain’s little pet.

This couldn’t be real, could it? Why was this your punishment, of all things? How did the story go again? 

A king and queen had a child, a princess, whose birth was celebrated throughout the entire kingdom. A glittering assemblage of folk from all walks of life, foreign and local, rich and poor, from royalty, nobility, gentry, and even the rabble, were invited to pay homage and revel in the festivities. However, the procession was disrupted by the arrival of an uninvited guest, the Mistress of All Evil, a malevolent fairy, which brought a curse upon the infant princess. A curse which promised death upon the princess. The princess goes into hiding with three good fairies for years, until the curse can pass, but eventually the malevolent fairy does capture both the princess and her betrothed prince. The princess falls into a death-like sleep, and the prince escapes to rescue her. In the process, the antagonist’s avian companion is turned to stone while the malevolent fairy turns into a dragon to face off against the hero in a grand battle, only to be defeated by a holy sword through the heart! 

It caused you to freeze, gulping as you imagined such an end. Stone… You were to be turned to stone! Would that mean instant death, or were to become a prisoner forced to be still and silent until the very end of time or at least until your stone body crumbled to dust? 

A pair of wooden doors flew open, the sudden sound as it slammed against the wall caused you to scream. That, and the appearance of an odd stranger in armor, was enough to make you believe that your end was now and sooner than expected. 

“YOU!” His booming voice nearly ruptured your eardrums as he pointed an accusatory finger. Directing a rather sharp nail, almost as equally sharp as his two front canine teeth which you caught sight of but sharper was the sword sheathed at his hip.

“Me???” You looked at the intimidating stranger, baffled and uneasy. 

The man clad in armor was certainly not a shining knight of goodness or a pure princess blessed by fairies. It became apparent by his pointed nails, sharp teeth, and unnaturally thin pupils that he wasn’t human. What sort of human had slicked back natural mint green hair? 

“Yes, you!! Do not be so dense, human! Who else do you see in this hall?” He stomped up to you, frowning deeply, almost snarling. As he got closer, you realized he was very tall and built like a soldier. At his hip, opposite to his blade, was a mask of dark metal, resembling yours. However, his mask was crafted to resemble a crocodile. “Do not think yourself superior for even a second! You are only valued for the intel you can provide, nothing more, nothing less. Here you are, milling about uselessly while the rest of us search tirelessly for the girl! I shouldn’t have expected anything less from a mortal!” 

Squinting a bit at him, it took a solid second for all those words he spoke to be processed in your mind. Another round of thunder rumbled outside, sounding closer than before. “But… I am stupid?” You smiled a bit awkwardly, watching how the stranger’s face fell with each following word. “Sorry, who are you? I think you have the––” He has the wrong person. Before you could complete that thought, thunder seemed to shake the very walls as its booming clap reverberated throughout the air. 

It was loud, loud enough to startle both yourself and the uncouth bright-eyed one. 

“Have you no decency? You cannot even recall your colleague’s name! It’s Sebek! Sebek! We spoke months ago before departing for the most recent search!” He replied, frustrated that you didn’t remember his name, despite not even meeting before. Was he mistaking you for someone? It’s as if you had been thrust into some sort of role, maybe that’s why he didn’t take you for an intruder. 

“Okay, okay, Sebek. Got it. You don’t need to say it a third time. Please, spare my poor ears.” Raising an eyebrow, you nearly flinched every time he spoke. It’s like he had a megaphone built into his voice box, because he talked in what sounded like shouts. “Also, why are you yelling? I can hear you perfectly fine, you don’t have to be so loud.” 

“Why am I…?” The weirdo, apparently called Sebek, parroted in disbelief as he ran a hand through his mint green hair. His fingers gripping his head, fingers tangled through his own locks. “Why are you still here?! General Vanrouge has requested I look for you because you were absent for an assembly called by the Master! Deliberately missing special councils called by him is deplorable on every level!” Reaching forward, he suddenly caught your arm in an iron grip as he practically dragged you through a maze of corridors until they approached the source of a commotion. 

Better to allow this Sebek character to escort you than refusing and risking him having an aneurysm, you figured. Something in your gut told you to go with it, and don’t immediately bring up the fact that you weren’t who they thought you were, especially now that you had arrived in a room chock full of armed soldiers dressed in a manner similar to Sebek. 

However, all these people had two striking features, slitted pupils and pointed ears. Pointed ears. Definitely not human. Yes, you were stupid, but not stupid enough to expose yourself when you were outnumbered a hundred-to-one. 

“What’s all this––?”

Before you could completely round the corner, you nearly fell back into Sebek as a cloaked figure appeared out of the shadows. They hung from the ceiling, their face in front of yours. A terrifying individual, with thin locks of pitch black and blood red, and a face of a terrifying gnarling beast. “Boo!” 

Wide-eyed, you stared at the figure as you leaned back into Sebek’s arms who didn’t seem as surprised as you. Was this a companion of his? The matching cloak, the similar armor, and… that face of the hanging stranger was metal. A mask. A mask that looked like some horrifying monstrous bat.

Placing a hand on your heart, you closed your eyes and fell back dramatically, playing the part. Your legs went limp, the only thing preventing your form from hitting the cold hard floor was the pair of strong arms holding you up from behind. 

A snicker was the only applause for your small performance, as Sebek jostled you from your act. For some particular reason, Sebek was impatient as he forced you to your feet, but he didn’t dare raise his voice at this surprisingly short figure that somehow floated down from the ceiling like a feather drifting to the ground. 

“This is an entirely serious matter! Lilia–– General, please.” Sebek pleaded, keeping you stuck in place by gripping your shoulders to keep you facing the General. What did Sebek call him earlier? Vanrouge? This was him? 

This Vanrouge character was on the petite side, he hardly looked like a general with his undersized stature and thin limbs. Yet his armor fit him just fine, and on his belt was a great big cleaver that sparkled like jade. Definitely not about to cross him when he had that on his person. 

Cleaver aside, it was really difficult to fear him when he removed his terrifying mask. While yes, his features were far less human than Sebek’s, he was somewhat adorable. When he laughed, you noticed small sharpened fangs while his big crimson red eyes and slitted pupils shined with mirth. Even one of his pale pointed ears appeared to twitch. “I know, I know, but can’t I enjoy one moment of laughter before everything goes to rack and ruin?” 

There was no need to even ask what exactly he meant by that, because again, there was that thundering rumble that shook the very palace walls. It sounded even closer this time, like it was in just the next room over! 

Vanrouge, or rather, Lilia, appeared a bit anxious, jittery as he brushed off his nerves with a quieter laugh. His own hands had gripped your shoulders as Sebek took a step back. “See, this is why you are one of my favorite humans! Mortals are so easygoing and you get my humor.” 

“Thank you? And you’re my favorite…” You paused. What even was he? What were they? In some renditions, there were fairies, but sometimes the creature that was the malevolent fairy and her goons were left a mystery. In one story the malevolent fairy had an army of creatures with animalistic features. Is that what they were supposed to be? It would explain the masks. What if you were wrong? “You’re my favorite little guy.” 

Sebek looked down at you incredulously as if you had insulted his own mother, and you realized far too late that you had quite literally called a General a little guy. However, instead of bringing his cleaver down upon you and splitting you in half or destroying you with some type of wild fantastical twinkly fairy magic, this General only giggled. He giggled, which made you grin like a fool. You had done something right, apparently! 

Deciding against saying the first thought that came to mind, Sebek instead blurted out, “This is the only human you actually talk to! They are the only one among us fae!” 

So that’s what they were. Fae. “Details, details. It still counts.” Lilia dismissed, leading you closer to the very end of the hall where it opened up to a space with more soldiers like him and Sebek. Faes. In a huge spacious room, gathered, listing reports on the results of their scouting missions. Missions likely with the goal of finding the princess. Once there, he placed an arm around your shoulder. Here, his voice was quieter to avoid being heard by the masses. “Come, we know the Master will be in need of some good news right about now, whether you can deliver it or fetch it. It will quell his… irritability. And it may take a human to catch a human. We cannot fully comprehend how your minds work, but perhaps you can understand a fellow mortal’s and finally make this search a success. Go now, courier.” 

Lilia had pushed you out in the open just as the last of the soldiers were wrapping up their report of failed searches. Your dark garbs and metal crow mask had allowed you to blend right in, but it felt like you were a rabbit in a den of ravenous wolves. No one stared at you, because they were far too transfixed on a towering figure not too far from where the General had pushed you. 

As soon as the figure entered your line of vision, you too became just as transfixed as everyone else. Master. This was their master, which could only be the malevolent fairy, fae, in this case. It should have never been possible for someone to have both the facets of a devil but the magnificence of an angel, but he did. Horns as black as night curved atop his head and inky black scales bordered the bases, making it look like a crown while shadows appeared to blend into his robes like fabric weaved of pure darkness devoid of any light. The only light that escaped him came from his eyes, like the common slitted pupils in this crowd yet his eyes glowed an enchanting green like no other. 

It was like a moth to a flame, destined to burn, but you found yourself drawing near behind his dark throne anyways. 

“It’s inconceivable!” He hissed, loud enough so that the entirety of the gathered could hear his voice echo in the space around them. The thunder outside seemed to crack with his every word. The fae, his loyal denizens, shirked back instinctively yet they continued to awe at the malevolent one. “Twenty years, and not a trace of the princess. How is it that this one human, a mortal, has miraculously escaped the vigilant watchful eyes of every one of my most diligent knights and soldiers who have searched all but endlessly, high and low, for two decades? Hm?” 

You kept glued to the wall, the uneven bricks against your back as you attempted to make yourself as small as possible. What were you supposed to do? What could a mortal do against him, the same fae that has the ability to transform into a dragon of immeasurable strength? This fae was the one who would eventually drag you down with him. 

“Humans are numerous, and they are a tricky sort, Your Majesty.” Lilia appeared at the forefront of the throng. Despite the obvious vexation of the horned-one, he continued merrily with an encouraging smile, despite the apprehension of his armored colleagues. “We can’t exactly venture into towns too long without the risk of being discovered or the presence of that pesky iron weakening us. But we make do, and during nights we’ve checked every strip of land from the moors’ borders, to the villages and towns, even the highest mountains. Haven’t we, boys?” 

A murmur of agreement washed over the crowd. For twenty years they had tirelessly searched, and they had no princess to show for their efforts. It wasn’t that the princess disappeared into thin air, this much you could remember. There was a reason they couldn’t find the princess as she dwelled in a cottage deep within the woods with her caretakers, the three good fairies, acting as poor mortal women. What was that reason again…? 

One hand shot up from the crowd, a voice louder than the rest, the familiar voice of Sebek. “Yes, Master Malleus we did! And we will gladly continue our search, comb through every region once more, and check every cradle again all for you to extract your revenge upon the despicable humans and their wicked king!” 

“Cradles…?” The dark fae, apparently named Malleus, directed his widening eyes towards them. His grip tightened on his long twisted wooden staff. You were given the answer as to why they never found the princess within the first years. The faes had forgotten that mortals aged, so the princess they were looking for was no longer a baby in a cradle. 

“Oh no.” Sensing the impending danger, you took cover behind the throne. From behind the throne you peeked out, using the royal seat as a shield. When the towering fae’s green-eyed gaze landed on you by a glance, you stilled like a frozen statue. The hair on the back of your neck raised as your gaze met his. Seeing his eyes become temporarily focused on you, feeling his unholy presence, sensing the incoming disaster he would wrought–– everything about this man, if he even was a man, made alarm bells ring on your head. 

Suddenly, a smile graced his features. It was the sort that masked his frustration simmering beneath the surface. He was close, close enough to reach a hand forward slowly so his fingertips grazed the underside of your chin. Lips curled upward into a menacing grin, but it wasn’t the crazed sort. He was scarily calm as he peered down at you. “Did you hear that, my courier?” 

There were over a hundred pairs of eyes on you at the moment. Watching intently as you leaned back a bit, a chill traveling up your spine as his sharp black nails traced your flesh. You’re sure you were beaming like a simpleton, whether out of instinct or out of some sort of response to your current nerves. Certainly this was how the sailors felt in times of old when confronted by enchanting sirens that lured them to certain doom in watery graves. What were the don’ts regarding fairies and faes of myths? Don’t give your name, don’t lie, and don’t enter the obvious fae traps designed to ensnare curious humans. This must’ve been some sort of fae trap, it had to when he had a face like that. 

Was Malleus addressing you directly because you were the only human in the room? “Yes… Loud and clear.” One corner of your mouth twitched into an awkward smile in return, but you found yourself unable to remove your eyes from his. A brief and quiet chuckle left your lips, “It’s… kinda funny.” 

“Isn’t it?” When he removed his fingers from your chin, you nearly tumbled forward, but you managed to successfully catch yourself before you could crash into him. The fae turned around, beginning to chuckle in his deep voice, a sound which echoed in the tense silence of the packed throne room. “For all these years I have been waiting, and they have been looking for a baby.” 

The General, Lilia, was perhaps the first to realize something was amiss when the Master of All Evil began to laugh. Vanrouge seemed like the type to enjoy a laugh, but this wasn’t just a moment to crow about their recent failings. A moment of clarity dawned on him while his colleagues unsurely joined in on the commotion. Your gaze met his and you frantically shook your head as Sebek rapidly clasped his hands over his mouth in shock and regret upon realizing their mistake and his blunder. You tried to signal them to flee while you yourself retreated further back behind the throne for cover. 

It was just in the nick of time too, as the air began to fizzle with static electricity, growing with every passing second as his laugh became less humorous and more diabolical. There was the same lightning from before but instead of being outside, it sounded as if it was inside these very walls. Crashing and striking every second, one, two, three, four, five, shaking the castle. You felt your eardrums vibrate as you continued to brace yourself behind the throne until it stopped. This was your first true taste of utter terror and helplessness. 

Here you were for a reason, to die, either by stone or before, whether it be by the clubs of the fae soldiers, at the sharp end of a holy sword, or between the maws of the Master of All Evil. It felt like an eternity, but it was likely under a minute, when the destruction ended. Trembling slightly, you peeked out to survey the damage. 

It was a harsh reminder of your current plight. There were no bodies laying motionless, as everyone either had the means to defend themselves or Malleus simply wasn’t aiming for any of them in his burst of anger. The throne room had been largely evacuated thanks to General Lilia and Sebek. Only shields and the occasional weapon were left behind in the hurry to avoid being struck by his wrath, dark spots were ingrained where the lightning struck the ground, a few stones tumbled loose from any walls that were hit as collateral damage. 

If you somehow survived this, it would be no less than a miracle.

[misshunterskye]

sylus likes when you maintain contact in the bedroom. this imagine is 100% inspired by this post. it made me have thoughts. so enjoy.

content: smut ( mdni )

“Look at me.”

He grunts the words out, his hand reaching down to grab your chin. You’ve just woken up and the both of you are taking advantage of Sylus’ morning excitement.

However, when your eyes rolled back in pleasure, and then shut he gave a tsk, followed by that statement.: Look at me.

It takes you a second to register what he says. He pauses while waiting, before repeating it, emphasizing each world with a savage thrust: "Look at me. "

Your eyes fly open, and you whine at him. "Sy!"

“That’s a good girl. Your eyes are so pretty, so soft…” he rasps. His hands are now gripping you everywhere now as you find yourself getting closer and closer to the edge.

Sylus is like a beast, still rocking into you without mercy. His stamina and self control were amazing, and he often could fuck you through multiple orgasms. This morning seemed to be no different. He could feel you tightening around him.

"Good girl. Go ahead and come for me, alright? You've been so good, you deserve it." His mouth brushes over the shell of your ear as he rasps it to you. And just like that, you're clenching around him, a low pitched mewl coming out of your throat.

It makes him chuckle, but it's mixed with a groan. He always tells you that it's worth the self control to feel you tighten around him over and over again. As soon as he's fucked you through that orgasm, he flips you both over so that he's on his back.

"Ride me. And keep your eyes on me, beautiful. I want to see every reaction on that pretty little face. No matter how small." He smirks before playfully slapping your ass.

"I want you to take what you want," he says, "But if you close your eyes, I'll take over."

It's not a real threat, knowing that it'll still send you to the moon either way. But you nod at his demand, starting to rock your hips back and forth. He's already so big in general, but when you ride him, it makes him feel even bigger.

It's not long before you're working yourself to a frenzy on his cock. You notice a lot since he won't let you shut your eyes. It's almost infuriating how he seems almost unaffected. The key word, almost. There's little furrows of his brow, moments where his jaw twitches - struggling to remain a smirk... but he still manages to look coolly at you as you ride him.

"I'm so -- Sy," you whine, your hips whipping back and forth even faster now.

"Yes," he says, leaning up to suck at your nipples, even nipping gently at the underside of your breast. "Let me have it. Let me feel it... let go, take what you want. Take me."

His dirty commands send you over the edge. It's clear after your last orgasm that his restraint is holding on by a thread. Once you come down, he leans up to kiss you harshly.

"You like making me so lovesick, don't you?" He accuses in between words. It's teasing, along with nips and sucks along your neck. It's clear he's getting close, and the need to fuck you harder, rougher is setting in.

Once again, he flips you over, but this time, he withdraws from you. It's for the first time since you both woke up, and he tugs you so you're practically bending over the bed. "Want me to show you just how love sick you've made me, kitten?"

You nod, blissed out from your previous orgasms, and he growls, entering you to the hilt in one smooth motion. At this angle, he's pushing you up and down against the quilt. It''s rubbing against your clit as his cock pounds into you.

"Sylus!" You mewl, your hands looking for anything to hold onto. Instead of letting them find purchase, he takes them, pinning them behind your back as he continues to pound into you.

His thrusts are getting messy, and grunts are falling from his mouth in a symphony. You love the sounds he makes right before he finishes. It's enough to bring you to the brink of yet another orgasm.

"You're...you're so fucking impossible not to adore," he grunts, his thrusts speeding up even faster. Then, you feel him swell inside of you. You both come together, and he lets out a loud grunt as he pulls out, coming all over your stomach.

He collapses onto you for just a moment, and you both enjoy the intimacy before he's walking to the bathroom. He emerges with a washrag, cleaning up your backside. Once you're all taken care of, you both decide to spend the rest of the morning cuddling in bed. After all, after all that... who would want to leave the bed?

[cheyisagirlkisser]

nsfw. ellie fingers you on patrol to help with your cramps. 1.4k words.

Never in your three years of residency in Jackson would you ever predict this–Ellie’s fingers deep inside of you, stroking the soft, sweet spot swollen by your own arousal. You would never have been able to predict actually crying out for her touch, hips bucking up to meet her palm like it was nothing. It was truly everything, because this was never supposed to happen.

You and Ellie had a strong distaste for each other from the start.

You liked to go to parties and drink, be reckless during patrols, and (at least attempt to) sleep with anyone who you thought was even slightly fuckable. Ellie was a wallflower, so maybe her distaste for you was plain jealousy. For you, your dislike for Ellie was much more than just something solvable with a little chat.You really resented her, and maybe it was because she actually made you feel things.

It was just another patrol like the rest, Ellie being quiet around you, and you refusing to make your usual conversation. Ellie was the only person you didn’t chat up a storm with when it came to these long patrol shifts, this one even lasting two days and requiring a camp set-up. If the two of you had really thought it through, you would’ve been more careful. Two people who have that obvious and yet annoyingly oblivious tension? It should’ve been predictable.

It started with the growing of blood in your underwear. The perfect time to be on your period, huh? You only let out a little huff to which Ellie ignored, setting off into the forest to put on a pad. When you returned, it was like fate that hit you, much like a lightning strike. Literally a strike of pain in your lower stomach signifying cramps to come, and on the one patrol you before to bring a bottle of Ibuprofen on.

You laid in your sleeping bag in pain, not wanting to even complain to Ellie, as much as you were the whining type. It’d be real nice to have someone to listen to you express how badly this cycle was, how your body was doing you dirty. You weren’t expecting Ellie to speak to you first.

“You okay over there?” not the usual irritated tone she liked to use with you, but not the most empathetic. Just slightly softer, but that was a mercy due to the strain in your relationship.

“Cramps.”

“Just take an ibuprofen and lay on your side.”

“Gee, thanks. I would’ve never thought to do that,” you bit, making Ellie glare. “I don’t have anything on me. I forgot I was close to my period.”

“Damn,” a not so sympathetic, and possibly indifferent curse from her.

“Yeah, damn is right. I feel like I’m being stabbed in my uterus repeatedly.” 

Silence went on for a few more minutes, but it was visually obvious that you were in a lot of pain. Despite her dislike for you, she didn’t like seeing you suffer. There was a small flutter of empathy deep inside her that made her suggest something she probably shouldn’t have.

“Physical stuff can help cramps, you know.” Quiet, and yet the implication was clear.

“You mean like..sex?”

“Don’t think of it as actual sex, obviously. Just me helping you.”

“If we do this, we aren’t having sex. I’m not moaning for you or telling you how much I want you, so don’t expect that shit. You’re simply giving me an orgasm, and then it’s done.”

“Agreed. No kissing, and as soon as you..finish, we stop.”

And it started just like that, as sexual act of non-sex.

Ellie didn’t warm you up with neck kisses or sloppy love bites like your usual partners did, and partially, you were glad. This was just supposed to be an orgasm, and you didn’t need to like each other to appreciate a good orgasm, right? A simple pain reliever. Anytime your brain would bleed with thoughts of Ellie doing those things for you, however, you’d block them out as soon as they entered into your mind. The imagery was more difficult to get out of your head, though. Just simply picturing her plush lips trailing over your neck, breath ghosting over…

You snapped out of it, and just focused on trying to cum so that this would end, and you and Ellie could go back to hating each other.

One finger slipped inside of you, and you bit back a gasp. You were wet enough to take it without much at all, and you hoped Ellie just assumed that was just because of your period and not actually because you were turned on.

Ellie started out slow, just rubbing your g-spot with her finger, providing some direct stimulation. It made you realize how different the act of sex itself was from sex with all of the other stuff. The teasing, how your typical couple would build up the moment to make it the best possible experience. That wasn’t what this was, though. So, why were you biting your lip to stifle moans when Ellie slipped in another finger into your increasingly wet hole, and even padded over your clit with her thumb?

Your head was spinning, and you were starting to lose your focus on just having that orgasm, the aid to your cramping. You were already too distracted to think about the pain, too focused on trying your hardest to pretend like Ellie’s calloused fingers curling into your pussy wasn’t the hottest thing you’ve felt in a while. 

Ellie didn’t complain when you instinctively bucked your hips up into her touch, and she had to try really hard not to lean down and kiss you when the occasional moan slipped past your lips. She couldn’t blame you, it was a natural reaction.

So, why was it that you were now begging for more when she curled right up into your sweet, tender spot?

“Ellie,” you breathed out, eyes fluttering open to meet hers. The scrunch of her nose that was usually present when you were around faded away, and her eyes were lidded, her lips parted slightly. A delicious, rosy tint set across her freckled face.

“Is it helping?”

“Please. Please, fuck me..just like that, I need it,” you begged, making her stomach do summersaults. It couldn’t be helped, though. Ellie took note that you shed off a little bit of your dignity when she slid her fingers slightly out and shoved them back into your hole, just to slam into your g-spot. She liked the way you sounded, the way your usual walls built around her crumbled when she fucked you good. Even though she didn’t (or at least tried not to) care to observe you enough, she noticed that you were different when at parties dancing with random people, more inauthentic. Something was ironically beautiful about the rawness to your voice that hit hard when she did something particularly mind-blowing to your pussy.

A mix of blood and your juices were dripping down her knuckles, and she really wanted to taste you. It would probably be something she would regret later, but Ellie decided to sate herself with a soft kiss to your lips instead. She felt warm and tasted like the rations from earlier, but you kissed her back fervently. The needy sounds coming from your throat were swallowed by her own mouth.

The orgasm that hit you was mind-blowing enough to aid with the cramps, but that wasn’t what you were focused on. Instead, it was the way Ellie’s tongue coaxed your lips apart, and the scent of her hair against your nose when she buried her face into your neck to taste your pulse. You felt every tremor run through you like lightning, and it was unlike anything anyone else could give you. It wasn’t forced, and the passion there was real. You actually felt something with her. 

As you came down however, the moment dissolved into awkward silence and the careful removal of Ellie’s fingers from you. You swallowed, holding back your words. You wished to forget it all now, not because you wanted to deny it ever happened, but you were scared of what it meant if you got attached to someone in Jackson.

Just like that, it was over, and you and Ellie didn’t go quite back into disliking each other dynamic but rather an awkward limbo. You left that patrol and spent the next few weeks sleeping with people, pulling all-nighters trying to make yourself feel what you did on that patrol, but you never could find the same peak in every single category of feelings that Ellie gave you.

[heavenorhella2001]

This had never occurred to me way back when when I first watched playthroughs of the game/played it myself, but;

Seeing this post made me remember Max's nightmare, when she was trapped in her own mind/a broken version of reality.

And seeing this now?

Max definitely has PTSD.

Everyone always primarily discusses/ focuses on Chloe's trauma (which is understandable. I'll always be a Chloe defender and don't want to downplay her trauma by any means.)

But, unfortunately, Max's is overlooked.

Now, a lot of people might view this skeptically, question the idea of Max having PTSD. To many, it might seem like Max doesn't really have any lasting form of major trauma after the events of the game. Maybe she really was content and at peace and happy-go-lucky. (I've always scoffed at that scene at Chloe's funeral, when Max smiles at the butterfly.) And I'll admit, within the context of the story maybe we aren't supposed to think so. But if that's the case I just have to assume that's due to the developing team's lack of knowledge, experience with mental health and how it works, the impact things like this have on someone. Not that they are coming from a malicious place, of course. But very rarely does a person 'get it' unless they've been through it themselves. The average person simply won't understand.

But if you see everything I've described here as it's laid out, it makes total sense;

Let's talk about Jefferson. He is just one of many elements in the game contributing to Max's trauma. He was her teacher, someone she looked up to, respected, and was supposed to be able to trust. She truly felt safe around him. It's implied she had a crush on him. But her image of him completely shattered. After the truth about him was revealed, she was no longer able to trust her own judgement of people, her perception of reality.

He drugged her when she was vulnerable, and she was helpless to watch as he shot and killed the love of her life right in front of her. He kidnapped her, and she was thrown from the frying pan right into the fire. When she woke up she was tied up in a basement, helpless, and he had burned all her photos. Not only precious memories, but also one of her only means of going back and fixing things. He then took photos of her, over and over, this went on for who knows how long, while she was drugged, tied up and helpless, in order to satisfy his own perversions. Throughout, he mocked and tormented her.

Then, let's go into what happened with Chloe. Having to watch her best friend, the girl she loved, die over and over and over again. Max felt responsible for fixing it, preventing it, because she was the only one who possibly could. She would blame herself, think of it as a failure on her part each time Chloe died.

After watching her die in various ways, so many times, I'm sure Max questioned if she really even could save Chloe- or if Chloe was supposed to die from the start, and the universe was determined to restore the balance, no matter what Max did or how hard she tried.

And then there's Kate. This could go one of two ways depending on your choices, one of which is infinitely worse and more traumatizing, but either way it would definitely have haunted Max and left an impact on her.

Imagine how you would feel, knowing one of your closest friends was being bullied. Knowing they have been drunk/drugged and taken advantage of at a party. Yet instead of anyone coming forward, doing the right thing and helping Kate out of that situation, everyone at the party instead weaponized it, used it against her, slut-shamed her even though she wasn't in her right mind, was barely even conscious and was in no way able to consent to anything that was happening. Not that slut-shaming her would have in any way been okay or excusable even if Kate was acting of her own volition. Knowing that, even though you don't agree/don't identify with that, that your friend is deeply religious and clings to faith as a means of comfort. Knowing that she feels like a failure, that she feels like she's betrayed her faith, everything she stands for, and her family, even though she was in fact a victim in her situation. Being able to read letters, watching her family victim-blame her, hide behind their beliefs as a means to tear down someone they should feel obligated to protect, to support. Watching your friend be alienated by everyone around her, including her own family. Watching the school bullies write obscenities about your friend on the walls, and in the bathroom, make jabs at her and taunt her at every possible opportunity. Your friend's light has begun to dim, she starts pulling away from you, begins hiding away in her room more, which now feels like a dark, oppresive void. You know your friend is depressed, and you're trying to be supportive in any way you can, but there's a distance building between you you feel you can't bridge.

Then it happens. She kills herself/tries to kill herself. In front of you, and everyone who tormented her. Even then, the people who hurt her have no shame, laughing and recording her when she's in crisis. You begin to question and blame yourself, blaming youself for not noticing something was severely wrong earlier, not recognizing the impending signs for what they were. You want to help your friend, to save her, but your powers at failing you at the worst possible time. You only get one chance to do this, like everyone else, and you have to do it the right way.

If Max managed to talk Kate down, that's still an instense emotional weight, still a serious event to work through and process.

If Kate jumps…well…

Max feels like a failure. Like she contributed to Kate's death just as much as everyone else. Like she may as well have pushed Kate off that ledge herself. Not only watching your friend die in front of you, but knowing that it was self-inflicted in a moment of desperation, that they chose to do so and your words had no effect…

Now, the end of the game. Depending on what you choose, Max either has to to feel an immeasurable weight on her conscience, the responsibility for the destruction of the town where she was born. Where she grew up. Where she has countless memories, despite its' faults. The deaths of almost everyone there she's ever known.

Including (especially) Joyce.

The guilt of feeling like she took Chloe's mom away from her too, after Chloe had already lost her dad.

Oh. And that reminds me.

It was an incredible miracle, Max discovering her ability to go back through time via photos. Being able to go back 5 years, to when she and Chloe were only 13, before all the horror had happened, and save William. The sense of sheer relief, happiness and accomplishment she felt. She felt like a hero.

Only for it to all blow up in her face in the worst possible way.

Seeing Chloe, now a total shell of her former self. Completely disabled, and paralyzed. Helpless. Unable to live on her own. Seeing firsthand the emotional and financial stress William and Joyce are going through as a result of the accident. Chloe having so little quality of life that she pleads with Max to kill her, because she can't even do it herself.

(This is not my narrative or opinion on Chloe's situation, by the way. This is how it's portrayed. Quality of life, determining whether your life is worth living to due a life-changing accident or consequent disability is the choice of the invidual whom it effects. I'm not saying that anyone in Chloe's situation, who is paralyzed would inherently have no quality of life or no reason to live. That really depends on the invidiual, what that person needs in order to truly live and thrive, whether that person has family and friends and an emotional/practical support system in their life, etc. For Chloe, for me, and for many other people, though not all, living that kind of life would not be worth it.)

Max, depending on your choices, having to kill Chloe, to choose the merciful path, allow Chloe to exercise her autonomy in a world in which she can no longer do so and put her out of her misery. Knowing that she's doing for Chloe what she'd want someone to do for her if she were in that situation, yet still full of pain and regrets.

Max then having to go back and undo it all. Allow William to die again. Watch Chloe experience that horror and trauma again, knowing now she could've prevented it. But at what cost?

Lastly, if you chose to let Chloe go. To let her die.

That makes it immeasurably worse in my opinion.

The week she and Chloe spent together, reconnecting and rebulding their friendship, everything they went through together, would essentially never have happened.

Chloe, in this timeline, died alone in a bathroom. She never recieved any sort of closure, never got to know what happened to Rachel, questioning if Rachel perhaps just abandoned her, similarly to how Max did.

She never got to resolve things with Max, never heard from her again. She never got to know that Max still loved her, still cared about her and thought of her, but was too scared and guilty to reach out.

She never got to patch up things with her mom, or with David.

Everything Max went through. Everything she experienced.

To recap:

Having to watch her best friend, the woman she loves, die over and over again, feeling helpless, trapped in this endless, hellish cycle of death.

Being lulled into a false sense of security, betrayed and abducted by someone she thought she could trust, someone she looked up to.

Witnessing firsthand Kate's suicide/attempt, feeling like she failed her.

Being forced to let William die again, and force Joyce and Chloe to suffer that loss again.

Having to watch Joyce mourn her only daughter, after already losing her husband. Knowing she could've prevented it.

Everything that happened would still exist, but only in Max's mind.

She has no one she could ever confide in, talk to, or open up about it.

Chloe, for her, was that person.

No one would believe her, albeit understandably.

It's implied her powers vanish after she goes back that final time to let Chloe die.

She'd have no way to prove her story was true.

Carrying the weight of that burden, that knowledge and trauma, alone, would drive anyone insane.

Feeling like everything she went through, all the efforts she made to keep Chloe alive, were pointless.

I don't believe there is any way Max could be okay after that.

She'd be a hollow shell, just going through the motions. Totally disconnected from the world and the people around her. (Understandably. Who the hell could she connect to? Who would understand her?) Everyone at Blackwell, and their student lives and petty drama would feel so insignificant. So incredibly stupid and shallow to Max after what she's been through.

In fact, I've always felt - years after the events of the game, were you to choose to let Chloe die - that Max likely killed herself.

Over time, she probably began to question herself, to feel crazy, and begin wondering whether any of what happened, actually did, or if it was just something her mind created.

Max's trauma, her thoughts and emotions in regards to all of this are reflected in this part of the game, her mental breakdown. You can see her self-loathing, the way she blames and criticizes herself, in her interactions with herself and in her distorted journal entries.

Anyway. I never really liked Max all that much as a protagonist.

I thought she was a pushover, a little shallow, cared too much about what people like Victoria thought of her. I thought it was pretty unforgivable the way she ghosted Chloe, at the most traumatic, formative time of Chloe's life, when she had just lost the most important person in her life, besides Max. I understand anxiety, feeling awkward, helpless and flailing in that situation and not knowing what to say or do to make it better, but it just doesn't matter to me. Nothing excuses that.

However…

Max, did ultimately (well, depending on your choice at the ending,) make it right.

This has given me some perspective, and I have a lot more empathy for her now.

     you thought you could control everybody and everything, huh?      —   twist time around your fingers?

[imaginespazzi]

Our Merry Eternity

And she swears that every Christmas season, it feels like they fall deeper and deeper in love with each other.

(In which a writer would like to argue that a day after Christmas, is a perfectly reasonable time to release a Christmas fic)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Fluff, fluff, fluff with some hurt/comfort and angst if you squint

Words: 9.4K (if I could write things shorter maybe y'all would get things faster but alas)

TW: Implied sexual content/suggestive content, mentions of divorce, mentions of injuries, swearing

A/N: MERRY (one day after) CHRISTMAS MY LOVIES <3 It seems like everyone wanted domestic fluff and who am I to deny the people what they want (even if it is a little later than I intended it to be) and I didn't realize how much I missed eternity-verse till I wrote this. I'mma keep this short and sweet and go through the basics. Such as the fact that I did not edit. I eventually will but for now, feel free to let me know about any grammar/spelling/formatting issues. And even though I haven't had the time to go through my inbox in a hot second, I promise I will soon so as always, let me know what you liked, what you didn't and what you'd like to see in the future. Have a lovely rest of your holidays my angels <3

It’s beginning (to look a lot like Christmas) 

Paige isn’t the biggest fan of Christmas; she doesn’t dislike it by any means but she’s never understood the fascination everyone else seems to have with it. Perhaps it’s because when she was younger, Christmas had been her parents’ favorite holiday to try and one-up each other. They’d competed in everything, from how big the tree was to how evenly spread the icing on the cookies were. Eventually the excitement of getting a big expensive present from one parent that would only be rivaled by an even bigger, more expensive present from the other wore off and all that was left was this hollow feeling of being torn in two. Her parents have matured now -no longer in a constant battle for her approval now that they had other kids to focus on as well- but the magic of Christmas had long worn off and Paige hadn’t bothered trying to rediscover it. 

Until now. 

Because right now, watching -through a facetime call that’s been running for almost four hours now- Azzi run around Walmart, searching for decorations and presents with her exasperated family in tow, almost feels a little magical. The way the younger girl’s eyes twinkle when she finds the perfect gift, the way her dimples deepen when she triumphantly wins an argument against her mother for an ornament her tree needs, makes Paige think that it would be so easy to fall in love with Christmas, if she got to spend it with Azzi. 

And it’s like Azzi’s reading her mind because suddenly the younger girl’s face is filling all of Paige’s screen as she holds the phone close to her face, lips pouting in a way that has the blonde feelings decidedly unfriendly feelings toward a girl she’s barely known for six months, but feels like a best friend she’s known all her life. 

“I wish we could spend Christmas together,” Azzi says with a slight whine, “and then you could help me with all of this. They’re absolutely no help-” her last sentence is cut off by her family and Paige laughs as the Fudds break out into a series of indignant protests. 

“Oh so you just want me for manual labor or something huh?” Paige teases, leaning back against her bed and folding her arms across her chest, “and here I thought it’s cause you missed me.”

“I do miss you,” Azzi says matter-of-factly.

“Nah,” Paige shakes her head, “sounds like you just need another person to slave around for you.”

Azzi's mouth falls open at the accusation as the Fudds break into laughter behind her, the sound of it making something impossibly warm bloom in Paige’s chest. 

“I do not make people slave around for me.”

“Yeah you do. You’re the princess. You order us around and we do as we’re told.”

“Here, here-ow!” Jon’s noise of agreement is cut off by his sister elbowing him in the stomach, “do all that work and get rewarded by violence too.”

“I tell you I miss you and this is how you repay me?” Azzi asks, her voice tinged with drama. 

“Nah I still don’t believe you miss me,” it’s a lie; Paige is fully aware Azzi misses her -thinks that the younger girl has to feel at least a semblance of the emptiness she feels herself at the distance between them- but she likes making Azzi repeat it; likes the constant confirmation that Azzi misses her too. 

“Of course I miss you P, after all,” Azzi’s eyes glint with mischief, “we’re engaged aren’t we? A girl’s gotta miss her fiancé.”

The cavalier use of the tone of endearment makes Paige freeze. It’s a joke; a callback to the fact that Paige had practically threatened Azzi that she’d have to marry her if the younger girl won their little pop-a-shot competition last summer at the Minnesota State fair. Paige hadn’t been thinking, it had just slipped out but then Azzi had won the game and then there were rings being exchanged and somehow the whole thing had become one big running joke between the two of them. Except, the idea of forever with Azzi doesn’t feel much like a joke to Paige. It feels like a wish, a hope, a want, a need  something she’s not quite ready to admit to herself yet. 

“I miss you too Az,” Paige says softly as they grin at each other through the phone, “can’t wait to see my best friend soon.”

Thirteen days to be exact -they’d planned to spend the last half of winter break together- but it’s not like Paige is crossing the days off of her calendar or anything. 

“Fiancé,” Azzi corrects and Paige’s heart flutters despite her brain trying to remind her that this is just a bit they’re playing at. 

“Right, so fiancé,” the word tastes like sugar cookies and marshmallows on the tip of her tongue, “you get my present yet?”

“You know I have and before you ask,” Azzi gives her a knowing look when Paige excitedly opens her mouth, “no I won’t give you a hint about what it is.”

“But Azziiiiiii-”

“Absolutely not Paige,” Azzi says firmly, “presents are meant to be surprises.”

“Aren’t fiancés meant to tell each other everything?” Paige scrunches her nose. 

“Not this. Christmas presents are a sacred secret,” the younger girl replies gravely. 

“And who made you an expert on all things Christmas presents?”

“Santa did,” Azzi retorts haughtily. 

Paige snorts, “well Santa doesn’t ex-”

“PAIGE MADISON BUECKERS,” Azzi yells and the blonde can tell by the way she winces immediately that the younger girl’s little outburst had gotten her more than a couple of wary looks, “Paige Madison Bueckers,” she hisses again, her voice much quieter this time, “you take that back right now!”

“Az-”

“Take it back!”

“Bro you’re fifteen years old,” Paige argues. 

“Believing has no age,” Azzi hums airily, “now take it back.”

“Nope!”

“Take it back or I’ll end our engagement,” Azzi threatens and Paige blanches at ultimatum. 

“You wouldn’t,” she gasps. 

“Try me.”

Paige is sixteen and she’s only really just started to learn what love is, but she thinks, as she sits on her bed bickering on facetime over the most ridiculous of topics with a girl who makes her feel things she’s never felt before, that maybe love is just something as simple and crazy as pretending admitting Santa is real so she can prevent her fake engagement, that’s almost beginning to feel a little much like a real promise, from being called off.

2. With you (under the mistletoe)

The truth is that neither of them quite remember what started the fight or even really why it had continued after. All they know is that one minute everything had been fine and then the next minute, they were fuming at each other and their plane ride back to the DMV for Christmas had passed in uncharacteristic silence. They'd parted ways at the airport -glumly sauntering over to their waiting families while decidedly avoiding looking over in each other’s directions- with a dreadful mixture of regret, guilt and the feeling of missing each other. But despite the fact that they were both clearly miserable, Paige and Azzi were both too stubborn and too eager to prove which one of them could be more stubborn. This was their first true fight after they’d gotten together earlier this year, and they were both adamant that the other one would apologize first. 

But Azzi can feel the urge to cave in grow stronger and stronger by the minute as she feels Paige’s body against her own as the blonde reaches over the younger girl to grab something from the shelf. The contact is unnecessary and she knows Paige is doing it on purpose, trying to get a reaction and it takes every inch of self-control Azzi has to not shiver as the older girl presses herself against her back, acting like whatever she’s grabbing isn’t right at the front of the shelf. Azzi tries to focus on the cookies she’s icing, tries to keep her hands still as she traces the outline of a star in royal icing, tries to do anything but focus on the way Paige’s warm breath is tickling against the back of her neck. 

It’s two days till Christmas and the Fudd family and friends have gathered to do their annual cookie baking and decorating tradition. And Katie had been clear that no matter what issues Paige and Azzi were having, they wouldn’t interfere with the open invitation that Paige had always had -since she’d moved to the DMV but even before that really- to join them throughout the Christmas festivities. Azzi had pretended to be a little miffed by it but secretly she’d been hoping that her girlfriend -god she still got such a thrill out of being able to call her that- would show up. They’d only really been apart for a day, but since they’d met, Paige and Azzi hadn’t gone often without talking to each other -whether it was in person or through text or on the phone- and so 24 hours had felt a little bit like 24 years and Azzi had spent every second missing the girl who’d long since become a part of her soul. And even though Paige had grunted about only being here for Drew’s sake, Azzi knows -by the way the blonde’s eyes had drunk in the sight of her when she’d let her into the house, by the way her stiff shoulders had relaxed just by being near her again- that Paige had missed her just as much. 

But neither of them are quite ready to admit it yet, and so, as they bustle around the confined space of the Fudd’s kitchen, Paige continues to find ways to light Azzi’s skin on fire and Azzi continues to pretend it isn’t making her burn with want. 

“Noooooooo,” a drawled out whine from the kitchen table has Azzi and Paige jumping away from each other as they both turn to look at Drew. 

Azzi’s eyes widen and Paige bursts into laughter as they take in the scene in front of them. Clearly the little boy had overestimated his strength and the piping bag had burst and now Drew stands by the table, his lips slightly parted in shock, as the red icing -originally intended for the Santa hat cookies- drips down the front of his shirt. Jon and José are doubled down in their chairs, tears practically streaming down their faces as the sound of their laughter echoes through the walls. 

“Oh my god,” Paige manages to get out between her giggles, “what did you do Drewskie.”

“Nothing,” her little brother immediately defends himself, “it literally burst out of nowhere.”

“Sure it did little Hulk, sure it did,” José teases as he swipes his finger over Drew’s ruined shirt and then licks the icing off of it, the casualness of it causing Jon and Paige to burst into another round of laughter while Azzi tries as hard as she can to keep her own giggles contained but a smile slips through the cracks. 

“It’s not funny,” Drew stomps his feet petulantly, “I’m all sticky and icky and gross. Azzi,” he looks at the brunette with imploring eyes, “tell them to stop- OH MY GOD ARE YOU LAUGHING AT ME TOO.”

Azzi's eyes widen as she tries to protest, “no of course not. C’mon let’s get you a new-”

But before she can put her plan into action, clearly Drew has a different idea and before Azzi can stop it from happening, the little boy is grabbing another piping bag -this one with green icing- and aiming it straight at Jose. There’s a split second of silence as the green icing arcs through the air, almost in slow motion, before landing with a splat on Jose’s newly bought t-shirt. And then the room bursts into chaos as Drew immediately dives behind Azzi’s legs, Paige and Jon continue to lose their minds laughing and José lets out a loud scream. 

“WHAT THE FU-”

“José language,” both Paige and Azzi reprimand immediately and José glares at them but corrects himself anyways. 

“What the fudge dude,” José scowls at Drew, “this is a brand new shirt.”

For his part, the little boy shrugs, “I thought you liked eating icing off of shirts. I figured I’d make it easier and let you eat it off of your own shirt. 

If it’s possible this somehow makes Jon and Paige laugh harder and instead of focusing his wrath on Drew who’s still nestled behind Azzi’s legs, José turns on the two of them instead. 

“You guys think this is SO funny don’t you,” he says menacingly, grabbing for two more piping bags. 

“José no,” Paige is the first one to recover as she tries to turn away from the mess but it’s too late, and just as she’s trying to bolt out the door, she’s stopped by a glob of pink icing landing with a splat on the back of her plain white shirt. 

“Oh you’re so dead,” Paige whispers angrily as she turns around, grabbing another bag of icing and aiming it directly at José’s face. 

And then there’s no stopping anyone as Azzi watches as all the beautiful icing she’d painstakingly made and dyed into different colors begins to be thrown all over the kitchen, a rainbow painting itself all over the walls and floors. Drew darts out from behind her legs, joining into the mayhem as he starts to pelt Jon with all sorts of colors. 

Seeing them all distracted and knowing it’s only a matter of time before she gets sucked into all of it, Azzi slowly tiptoes backwards, wanting nothing to do with the mess, and she’s just about to turn around and run up the stairs when a low voice echoes behind her. 

“And where do you think you’re going,” because of course Paige had noticed her trying to escape; Paige always noticed when it came to Azzi. 

“Paige,” Azzi warns slowly, trying to move away from the other girl, her eyes fixated on the purple icing in the blonde’s hands, “please.”

Paige smirks as she takes another step towards Azzi, “this is a little unfair isn’t it?”

“Hey I didn’t start any of this,” Azzi puts her hands up in surrender, choosing to back away from the stairs and towards the living room instead, “go fight the people who did.”

Paige shakes her head as she takes another step, “I already got ‘em all. Amateurs,” she says cockily, “they think they can beat me in a food fight.”

Azzi rolls her eyes, “is there anything you’re not arrogant about?”

“Can’t help that I’m good at everything,” Paige shrugs and Azzi’s about to come up with a snarky retort when the blonde’s eyes soften, “except I guess- I guess I’m not too great at apologizing.”

Gone is the air of overconfidence that had surrounded the older girl just a second before and in her place is that soft, vulnerable Paige that Azzi is so desperately in love with and she can’t help but take a step towards the blonde. 

“We should both probably apologize huh,” she says quietly, “think we both said some petty shit we didn’t mean.” 

It’s true; they’d known each other so long and so deeply that they knew exactly how to push each other’s buttons, how to say the exact wrong thing to rile each other up when they were frustrated. The fight had been inevitable; an explosion of all the angst that existed between two athletes who were both fighting injuries and watching their team struggle without them. It had started with something little that Azzi can’t quite remember but then they were yelling about other things -Paige’s grievances about how Azzi had an irritating habit of hovering and Azzi’s issues with Paige’s tendency to close herself off- and it had ended with both of them near tears as they’d frustratedly stomped into their rooms. 

“I’m sorry,” Paige says it first, as she loops her arm around Azzi’s waist, bringing the younger girl as close to her as she can, “I love you. I miss you.”

Azzi smiles, her hands finding their rightful place around Paige’s neck, not caring that the other girl is still covered in sticky icing,  “don’t gotta miss me baby. I’m right here,” she says softly, resting her forehead against the blonde’s, “I’m sorry too. I love you so much.”

“Look up,” Paige says softly, as she strokes Azzi’s cheek and the younger girl does as she’s told, laughing when she notices the mistletoe hanging above them. 

“Kissing under the mistletoe? You’re so cliché Bueckers.”

“Clichés are clichés for a reason Az,” Paige hums faintly before she’s pulling Azzi into a searing kiss, holding her as tightly as she physically can. 

And yet Azzi still finds a way to tug her closer, trying to find a way to meld their bodies into one as she presses herself as close to Paige as possible. She’s just about to suggest they take this upstairs -because god has she missed being with Paige- when instead she feels the older girl pull away and before she can even react, she’s being hit in the face with a stream of bright purple icing. 

“PAIGE WHAT THE FUCK,”

“Sorry baby. Just couldn’t help myself,” Paige grins as she steps back into Azzi’s space, gently attaching her lips to Azzi’s cheeks as her tongue languidly licks away at the icing and this time the younger girl doesn’t even try to hide the way her body reacts to it, “I promise I’ll clean you up though.”

3. I’ll be home (for Christmas)

“I’m good I swear,” Azzi’s voice is raw and hoarse like it often gets when she’s been crying and despite the younger girl’s best efforts to put on a brave front, Paige can hear right through it. 

She cocks an eyebrow, shifting from her back onto her elbows and placing her phone -with the facetime call- against the headboard, “then why won’t you let me see your face?”

“It’s not me. Something’s up with my camera. I don’t know what,” and if it was anyone else, even someone else who also knew that Azzi had literally just gotten a new phone, maybe the attempted sincerity in the brunette’s voice would be enough to convince them that she was telling the truth. 

But Paige has every line of the Azzi Fudd façade memorized, knows exactly how to discern the little cadences in her girlfriend’s voice and read between the lines. She knows Azzi’s purposely refusing to show her face; knows that it’s probably because it would take Paige one glance at said beautiful, gorgeous, stunning face to know that there had been tears running down it just a little bit ago. 

The blonde sighs, choosing to let the lie go and instead focus on the precious few minutes she’s got to speak to her girlfriend in peace. This is the first time Paige and Azzi have truly been apart for an extended amount of time since the latter had gotten to UConn and somehow the past few weeks have felt worse than when they’d spent months and months apart. With Paige trying to lead an injury-riddled team and Azzi rehabbing another torn ACL, the opportunities to indulge in a proper facetimes call had been few and far between. And when they did finally find the team, it wasn’t just that they were physically tired; they were both emotionally drained too. It was hard recharging when their batteries -each other- were so far away and every call felt hollow; like something was missing. 

“I miss you,” Paige says finally, feet digging into her bed as she musters up a soft smile, wishing that she could see Azzi return it with one of her own instead of staring at a black screen with only her own face in the corner. 

“Tell me something I don’t know,” the younger girl says lightly and something uncomfortable churns in Paige’s stomach. 

“You uh- you haven’t said it back in a while,” she says slowly, trying to keep her voice casual. 

“Said what?”

Paige gulps, “that you miss me,” she gives Azzi a second to respond before her nerves have her speaking a mile per minute, “I mean not that you- not that you have to say it back or anything it’s just- you usually do- or like you always did and you just- you just haven’t said it back. And I mean I don’t say I miss you just so you’ll say it back or anything. I mean I do- you know- miss you and so that why I say it- because- because I miss you- I miss you so fucking much baby and I just- I just want you to know that but you haven’t- you haven’t said it back in a little bit and I just- Azzi,” her voice cracks as she tries not to let the tears slip through, “you do miss me don’t you?”

The other girl is quiet for so long that Paige thinks maybe she’s said too much; her mind rushes to the worst possibilities because what if Azzi really doesn’t miss her? What if her insecurities are right and the time apart has made Azzi realize that she wants something other than Paige?

“Of course I miss you Paige,” Azzi’s voice is thick with tears and all of Paige’s previous fears are replaced with worry instead, “god baby I miss you so fucking much. I miss you all the time and I’m sorry, fuck Paige, I’m sorry if I ever made you think I didn’t but baby- I-,” she’s heaving through her tears and Paige wishes she was with her; wishes she could wipe away her tears and hold her forever. 

“Azzi-”

“I haven’t been saying it back because- because-” Azzi pushes on, still struggling to speak but determined to say her piece, “I can’t okay? I can’t keep saying it Paige- I can’t keep telling you I miss you and hearing that you miss me when we can’t do anything about it. And I get it- okay- I get it. I get that you have to be with the team and I have to be here and do my rehab and we can’t- we can’t be together right but fuck- I hate it. I hate it so much.”

“Azzi,” Paige says again helplessly. 

She hates it too; hates that it’s so close to Christmas, so close to Azzi’s favorite holiday and her girlfriend is sobbing. 

“Shit. I’m being a terrible girlfriend aren’t I? You have a game in a couple of hours and here I am being a fucking selfish wet wipe instead of wishing you luck. Fucking hell,” Azzi curses and Paige can picture her frantically pulling herself together as she tries to change her tone. 

“You could never be a terrible girlfriend,” Paige reassures softly. 

Azzi ignores her, “besides, we’ll see each other soon right? You’re gonna fly home from Toronto to Connecticut tomorrow and then come home to me after right? Just a couple more days,” and it sounds like she’s saying it more to herself than Paige, “just a few more days- few more hours really. We can do this.”

“Yeah,” Paige agrees but she can’t help but feel like even that’s too long and there’s a plan starting to form in her mind; a good use of all that NIL money she’s been earning. 

“I love you P,” Azzi says softly, and despite the heaviness from before, Paige can hear the smile in her voice, “see you soon baby.”

“I love you too Az. I’ll be home soon,” Paige replies, a large grin settling onto her face as she gets ready to bring her idea to fruition; knowing that for now, their soons don’t quite mean the same thing. 

***

Azzi thinks her parents and brother must have the patience of a saint. She’s acutely aware that she’s been a miserable grinch to be around; either ignoring them or answering them with tight one-word sentences. Since she’d come down to Virginia for her rehab, she’s kept herself holed down in her room, only coming out when absolutely necessary. The worst part of it, is that it’s her favorite time of the year and Azzi’s barely participated in all the little Christmas traditions -half of which had really been created by her- that she’d normally be excited to indulge in. 

She sighs, burrowing herself further into her pillows to block out the chatter of her family upstairs. In a couple of minutes, she’s sure one of them will come rushing downstairs, pleading for her to come join them as they make Christmas themed pancakes. And she’ll refuse -just as she has with every other fun little activity- and all though whoever’s been tasked with getting her out of her cave will persist a little longer, eventually they’ll give up, that awful look, tinged in both disappointment and pity, on their face as they go back upstairs with a promise to bring her a plate in a little bit. It’s a terrible routine that’s been on rinse and repeat and Azzi thinks she’d really like to break herself out of it, but it feels like she’s drowning in it instead, and there’s not a lifeboat in sight to pull her out of her misery. 

Turning on her side, Azzi reaches for her phone, flipping to Paige’s contact and her heart aches from their last conversation last night. God she’d been so selfish, venting like that knowing her girlfriend had a game in a couple of hours; knowing how stressful each game -no matter how easy the opponent- was with an injury-riddled team. But Paige had sounded so miserable when asking if Azzi still missed her that in a way it had been infectious and suddenly Azzi found herself letting her own hurt waterfall out of her lips. 

She scrunches her nose, eyebrows crinkling in confusion when she realizes that the last text she’d sent Paige before going to sleep  -a simple you did really good today baby, i’m proud of you right after the game- had gone unanswered. Azzi frowns, looking down at her phone as if her staring harder at it might just conjure up a message from her girlfriend. She’d fallen asleep almost right after sending it and it was unlike Paige to not have answered her by the time she woke up. Azzi rattles her brain, trying to remember if the blonde had mentioned any other plans -beyond a dinner with Aaliyah’s parents that wouldn’t have kept her from her phone- but she can’t remember anything. Briefly glancing at the time and knowing that Paige’s flight to Connectcut wasn’t supposed to leave for at least another three hours, Azzi hastily texts her girlfriend again, crossing her fingers behind her back in anticipation of a quick reply. 

Good morning Paigey <3 

She gives it exactly three minutes, stomach churning when she doesn’t get a reply. 

I miss you baby. 

Another four minutes and still no reply and Azzi starts to feel her head getting heavy with that familiar weight of over thinking. What if she’d overstepped last night? What if it was too much? What if Paige had decided that she couldn’t deal with Azzi and her crap anymore?

She can hear someone starting to hurry down the steps, the quickness making her think it’s probably one of her brother’s who’s been tasked with getting her out of her room this time. But Azzi keeps her focus on her phone, ready to reject whatever offer is about to be made. The door creaks open and she doesn’t look up, typing another message instead. 

I love you Paige. 

“I love you too Azzi.”

Azzi freezes at the sound of the oh so familiar voice, her gaze moving from her phone to the doorway in slow-motion. She blinks in disbelief, mouth falling open as she stares at the figure in her doorway, taking in the sight of a disheveled blonde ponytail, the custom UConn sweats draped on a body that’s radiating exhaustion but more than anything her eyes fixates on that smile, the one that’s always been just for her. 

“Paige,” she breathes out slowly, almost as if she’s scared that saying it will make the girl in front of her disappear like a dream. 

“Hi baby,” Paige says softly, casually pointing to her phone, “I got your message.”

“You’re here,” Azzi chokes out and then, louder, “you’re here oh my god, you’re really here,” she repeats, rushing to get out of bed, desperate to wrap her arms around Paige, to hold her and be held in return. 

“Hey, hey, hey wait baby careful,” Paige chides, her focus immediately on Azzi’s knee, “stay where you are-”

“What? Why?” Azzi pouts and that elicits a little laugh from Paige as she walks over to the brunette. 

“Because,” the older girl says quietly, as she crawls onto the bed and pulls Azzi onto her lap so the younger girl is straddling Paige’s hips, “I’m here.”

Azzi looks at her in awe, hand tracing the curves of Paige’s face like she still can’t quite believe this is real, “yeah,” she whispers, “you’re here.”

And then she’s kissing every inch of Paige’s skin that she can, memorizing the way it feels soft and smooth under her lips, trying to make up for all the lost time of the past few weeks and perhaps even for when she knows they’ll inevitably have to be separated again. Paige’s grip on her waist is tight, fingers gripping her like they’re scared to let go as she shivers under Azzi’s featherlight touch. 

“I’m here,” Paige repeats again before she guides Azzi’s lips onto her own into a feverish kiss that has both of them letting out a long-kept sigh of relief. 

It starts off innocent enough, the two of them savoring the moment, savoring the feeling of finally being in each other’s arms. But then Paige’s tongue is licking into Azzi’s mouth and the younger girl is grinding her hips in the way she knows will drive the blonde a little insane as Paige’s own hands find themselves roaming underneath Azzi’s pajama shirt, rubbing circles dangerously close to the edge of her sleep shorts. 

“Missed you- missed you so fucking much,” Azzi babbles as Paige’s mouth moves away from her lips to trail a series of kisses down her jaw, to her neck before nipping at her collarbone. 

“Me too- me fucking too,” Paige mutters between kisses as she soothes her tongue over the mark she’d just tattooed into Azzi’s skin with her teeth, eyes glazing over when it elicits a barely-concealed moan from the brunette’s lips. 

“Missed this,” Azzi groans, continuing to roll her body against Paige’s, and she thinks she could fall off the edge just like this, untouched and fully clothed. 

“I know, baby. I know,” Paige pants as she continues her assault on the young girl’s skin, “gonna take care of you. I swear. Gonna make up for everything tonight-”

“No now,” Azzi whines, hands tangling in Paige’s hair and pulling in a way that has the older girl groaning into the crook of her neck, “I need you now. I’ll be quiet, I swear. Paige please.”

“Fuck baby don’t say that. You know I can’t say no to you.”

“Then don’t say no to me,” Azzi responds with a smirk, one hand trailing down to gently flick against Paige’s nipples causing the blonde to let out a conflicted noise somewhere between pure arousal and reluctant protest. 

“I can’t,” she says finally, resting her head against Azzi’s shoulder as she purposefully grips the younger girl’s waist to keep her still. 

Azzi pouts, “why not?”

When Paige finally looks up at her, there’s a sheepish look on her face, “I made a bet with your brothers.”

“What?” 

“They said they hadn’t been able to get you out of your room and I said I could do it in ten minutes and they said it would take me a lot longer,” Paige says, hands moving animatedly and Azzi can’t help the fond smile that flitters onto her face. 

“So let me get this straight,” she says slowly, “we haven’t seen each other in weeks, haven’t fucked,” she purposefully grinds her hips down onto the other girl, “in weeks and you wanna delay it longer because you wanna win a bet against my brothers?”

Paige has the decency to look at least a little ashamed as she nods before giving Azzi a goofy grin, “yes? I love you?”

Azzi rolls her eyes as she slips off of Paige’s lap, already missing the warmth of being on top of the other girl, “can’t believe you’d rather win a bet than fuck me.”

“Nah,” Paige smirks as she stands up, her hands immediately inching themselves around Azzi’s waist, “I’d rather win a bet, use that money to get us a hotel tonight and then fuck you.”

“You’ve really thought this through haven’t you?” Azzi shakes her head, trying to hide her excitement at the idea of being in a hotel room -being alone, just the two of them- with Paige tonight. 

“Ten steps ahead always baby,” Paige grins as she presses her lips against Azzi’s, ending it quicker than either of them would like, “now hurry up so I can win this bet.”

But Azzi doesn’t move, instead she pulls Paige back into her, resting their foreheads together as she breathes in the scent of her girlfriend. 

“I’m really glad you’re home P,” she whispers and Paige smiles, gently rubbing her back, “didn’t feel like Christmas season without you.”

4. You’re all I need (underneath the tree) 

Azzi’s just putting on the finishing touches to her outfit -dangly gold hoops that Paige had gotten her just because- when she feels a pair of arms wrap around her middle, a warm body being pressed against her chest. She smiles, letting herself melt into her wife’s -God she loves being able to say that- touch, leaning her head back against Paige’s shoulder. 

“You look so pretty in that dress,” the older woman whispers into her ear as she runs her hands up and down the velvety red material covering Azzi’s body, “but you sure we have to go to your parents’ right now? Cause I think you’d look even better out of it.”

Azzi giggles; they’ve been together for almost nine years -known each other for even longer-  and yet every time Paige gives her a compliment, she feels her insides swooning, cheeks going red like she’s still a teenager whose crush is flirting with her. And she thinks this feeling will never go away, that the halo-like glow Paige’s mere presence casts around her will never fade because this love -this all-consuming sense of you’re it for me between them- is going to last forever. She’s sure of it. 

“Do you ever think of anything but sex?” Azzi rolls her eyes as she turns around in Paige’s arms, fingers immediately reaching up to fix the collar of Paige’s matching red shirt. 

Paige grins, “nah cause I’m always thinking about you and so by default I’m always thinking about sex.”

“You’re insatiable,” Azzi shakes her head. 

“Can you blame me when my wife looks like that?” Paige makes a show of looking up and down Azzi’s body, letting out a low appreciative whistle at the way the dress hugs her figure, the neckline dipping just low enough to stay respectable yet sexy. 

“You look pretty good yourself Bueckers,” Azzi hums as she grazes her teeth lightly against Paige’s neck, making the older woman shudder. 

“Careful Az,” Paige warns, the sultry lilt in her voice saying the exact opposite, “I might start getting the wrong idea.”

Azzi shrugs cheekily, “and what idea would that be?”

Paige smirks, gently tugging at Azzi’s dress to expose a shoulder before she’s attaching her lips to the newly uncovered patch of skin, “that maybe you want us to be late. Or better yet, maybe you don’t want us to go at all.”

Keening under the softness of Paige’s touch, Azzi reluctantly pushes the older woman away, and that might be worse because now she can see her eyes and the lust swimming in them makes her want to give into temptation. But they’re already running late and she has no desire to give their brother’s any teasing material, so she settles on stealing another kiss from Paige’s lips. 

“Go warm up the car,” she mutters against the blonde’s lips, gently squeezing her waist before she detaches from Paige and starts to fix her dress, “I’mma just do a quick double check and then be out.”

“Yes your highness,” Paige teases with a slight roll of her eyes before she’s grabbing both her and Azzi’s packed overnight bags and heading towards the car.  

Azzi smiles as she watches her go. As much as they joked about not going at all, both of them loved spending Christmas with their families, especially considering how the Fudds, Bueckers and everything in between had melded into one big one. Despite the fact that living in the DMV now meant that they saw at least someone in their family once a week, the idea of having everyone under the same roof was still thrilling nonetheless. 

Life had a funny way of working out. The plan had been set in motion since Azzi had been drafted to DC and although Paige had been tempted to stay in Minnesota -after all being the hometown hero picked with the no.1 pick had served her and the. team well for her first four rookie years, considering she’d helped them return to their former championship glory- they had ultimately decided that with most of their family in the DMV area, it made more sense for Paige to ask for a trade to DC than it did for Azzi to move to Minnesota. It hadn’t been the smoothest transition -they’d had their fair share of fights while making the decision and then adjusting to it- but they’d figure it out. They always did. Because as good as Paige and Azzi were at fighting with each other, they were even better at fighting for each other. 

Quickly going through the to-do-list in her brain, Azzi nods to herself as she silently checks off everything. She does a quick glance of her room, making sure that they’re not leaving anything they’d need, before reaching to grab her phone, just to text her parents that they were on their own way. Instead her eyes catch on an email notification, her heart beating erratically when she reads the name of the sender. 

Fingers fidgeting with the heart necklace Paige had gotten her years ago, Azzi slowly clicks on the notification as anticipation burns throughout her whole body. She tries to steady her breathing as she scans through it, reading each line carefully and she almost drops her phone, large hot tears dripping down her cheeks as she reaches the end of it. Her chest feels heavy with an unknown feeling and she knows she needs to get to Paige, but her feet are rooted to their spot. 

“Baby,” she hears her wife call out, followed by the sound of Paige’s footsteps climbing up the stairs, “you ready yet? The car’s already- oh my god baby what’s wrong?”

Azzi looks up from her phone to find Paige standing in the doorway. Concern floods the older woman’s sharp features as she rushes over to her, hands running all over Azzi’s body as she tries to figure out what’s wrong. 

“Az? Baby? What’s going on? What happened,” Paige asks urgently, “baby please you’re scaring me. What’s wrong,” her eyes drop to the phone in Azzi’s hands as her voice gets desperate, “did someone say something? Do I need to go kill somebody? Fuck baby please don’t cry. Tell me what’s wrong? I swear I’ll fix it but you gotta tell me baby. Please.”

Wordlessly, Azzi hands over her phone. Paige’s expression is confused and apprehensive -maybe even a little preemptively angry- as she takes the device from her wife’s hand. Azzi watches as recognition dawn of the blonde’s face when she spots the familiar e-mail address; watches as her wife goes through the same emotions she had reading through the email. When Paige finally looks back at her, her own eyes are brimming with tears. 

“Baby,” she says breathlessly, “this- I- we-,” she chokes back a sob, her voice so quiet in comparison to the loud enigma that is Paige Bueckers-Fudd, “we’re gonna be Moms?”

Azzi nods, tears continuing to spill down her cheeks as she finally manages to open her mouth, “yeah- yeah we are. Paige, we’re gonna have a baby. No two,” she corrects herself, remembering the exact words of the e-mail, “we’re gonna have two babies. Twins.”

And it’s unclear who moves first -it doesn’t really matter- but then they’re in each other’s arms, trying to hold each other as tightly as physically possible as their tears and smiles begin to blend into one. It had been a couple of months since they’d started the adoption process and they’d gone through every stage, slightly scared that something would go wrong. But they’d passed every background and family and personality check rather easily and it was this last part, the wait to hear about a child -well children- that needed them that had been the hardest of it. And now here it was, the last brushstroke that would complete the picture they’d started painting when they were fifteen. Two babies that would complete them. 

“You’re gonna be such a good Mom,” Paige mutters against Azzi’s hair, “god Azzi, baby I can’t wait to see you with our babies -fuck- our babies. Fuck baby I don’t know what you got me but I’m afraid it’s gonna have to be second best Christmas present I’m getting this year. 

Azzi laughs breathlessly, her face still buried in Paige’s neck, “think it’s gonna be the best Christmas present ever,” she slowly lifts her head so she can brush away the tears from under her wife’s eyes, “I love you. I wouldn’t wanna do this with anyone but you.”

Paige presses her lips against Azzi’s forehead, “me too baby. I love you so fucking much. You, me and our babies. It’s all I’m ever gonna want, all I’m ever gonna need.”

5. All I want (for Christmas is you) 

There’s a lot going on in her house right now -the chatter of family and friends mingling with the sounds of Christmas Carols blaring from the speakers, the mixed aroma of a well-cooked meal and freshly baked desserts, the twinkly lights strung all around the house blinking in different colors- but Paige’s entire attention is across the room where both of her two children are hanging off of her wife like baubles on a Christmas tree. Miles is situated on her lap, his head buried in his favorite place, between Azzi’s neck and shoulder. Sienna, always slightly more independent, has one hand wrapped around her mother’s ankle while she sits on the floor, her focus squarely on a princess coloring book. It’s a sight that will never stop making Paige’s heart swell with pride and happiness, her wife with their kids. 

Slowly excusing herself from the conversation she’d been having with a relative, Paige makes her way over to her family -to her whole world- with a soft smile on her face. She sits down next to her wife, placing a kiss to her temple that makes Azzi smile, before pressing one to her son’s forehead over the younger woman’s shoulder, before finally picking her daughter off the floor onto her lap and giving Sienna a kiss on her cheek. 

“Hi family,” she whispers and she thinks that if she could choose to have one picture ingrained in her mind forever, it would be a picture of the three smiles she gets in return. Miles’s is sleepy yet so sincere, Sienna’s is toothy and wide and Azzi’s- we’ll Azzi’s is exactly like it’s been since they were fifteen. It’s her Paige smile, one that is bright and beautiful and magnificent and filled with the promise of i’ll love you forever. 

“Mama look,” Sienna coos, shoving her picture in front of Paige’s face, “I color a p-incess.”

“It’s beautiful Si-Si,” Paige says warmly, “I think it should probably go on the fridge once everybody’s gone home yeah?”

Azzi snorts, her voice dropping so only her wife can hear, “baby, I don’t think there’s any more space left on the fridge considering you’ve been putting up every single thing they’ve ever colored or made.”

“I’ll make space,” Paige says haughtily, “everything they make is fridge-worthy.”

Azzi shakes her head fondly but Paige knows that despite her words, she’ll be right there by her side tonight to help her make space on their rather cluttered fridge so that they could hang Sienna’s new masterpiece somewhere on it. 

“Mi’s close to falling asleep,” Azzi gestures to the little boy in her arms who’s clearly struggling to keep his eyes open, “I think we should probably let them open their Christmas Eve presents now.”

Despite Azzi trying to keep her tone to a whisper, Sienna’s ears perk up at the word “present” and she turns on Paige’s lap to face her Moms with large, hopeful eyes, “it’s pwesent time?”

“Yeah sweetheart. It's present time, but only one okay?” Paige taps Sienna’s nose gently, laughing when the little girl nods diligently and then squeals with excitement, rushing off of her mother’s lap so she can tell anyone within earshot that it’s time to open presents. 

“I was gonna tell you to get everybody but I think she’s got it. She’s got your vocal chords for sure,” Azzi nudges Paige’s shoulder teasingly before coaxing Miles’ head out her neck, “you ready to open a present Mi?”

Miles yawns and Paige can’t help but coo at how cute he looks as he stretches in his mother’s arms. It fascinates her, how despite being twins, Miles and Sienna sometimes feel like they’re years apart. And she knows they're only 3 years old, and she knows that they’ll both change over time but Paige thinks that the difference in their personalities makes them fit together even more beautifully. Sienna had a protective streak, always ready to shield her demure brother and Miles had a knack from calming Sienna down, always ready to comfort his boisterous sister. 

“MI,” Sienna yells as she tugs on her twin brother’s arm, having somehow already gathered their family into the living room, “wake up Mi. Time to open a Ch-istmas Eve pwesent.”

“I coming Si-Si,” Miles says softly as he finally waddles off of Azzi’s lap, tiredly rubbing his eyes as he follows his sister towards the barrage of Christmas presents underneath the tree. Their mothers scooch off of the couch to stand closer to the tree, Paige wrapping her arms around Azzi from behind as she hooks her chin over her wife’s shoulder. 

“Alright Si-Si,” Tim says, his eyes twinkling as he looks down at his granddaughter, “remember, you should always pick the biggest present to open on Christmas Eve!”

Sienna’s eyes widen as she takes in her grandfather’s words before her gaze drifts towards the presents, scouting for the biggest one of them all. Paige drinks in the joy on her daughter’s face when she finally spots a large box that might just be taller than she is. 

“That one!” Sienna says gleefully as she practically climbs over the rest of the gifts to get to her chosen one. 

“Careful sweetheart,” Azzi calls out, her voice laced with hints of worry as she watches her daughter try to pick up the present that’s clearly heavier than she is. 

“Uncle Drew,” Sienna croaks out, turning to Paige’s brother as she realizes just how big the present she’d chosen is, “help me pease!”

Drew laughs, wading through the sea of presents to get to his niece as he sedulously sits down to help her unwrap the gift. Paige tightens her grip around Azzi in anticipation as she watches for her daughter’s reaction. The twins are old enough this year to really understand their gifts and even though Paige is sure she knows them well enough -they’re her babies for fuck’s sake- to have gotten them present they’d love, she’s still a little scared they wouldn’t.

“Relax baby,” Azzi leans her head back to whisper into the blonde’s ear, having noticed the way Paige is fidgeting with the sleeve of the brunette’s sweater, “she’s gonna love it. She’s our daughter. We know her.”

Paige presses a delicate kiss against the back of her wife’s neck, “you always say the right thing.”

“Because I know you,” Azzi says softly, eyes crinkling in the corner as she smiles at Paige.

They’re broken out of their reverie by their daughter screaming in excitement as she finally uncovers her present -a barbie basketball court-, and just like Azzi had predicted she would, she says, “I love it, I love it, I love it. Thank you Mama, thank you Mommy!”

Paige and Azzi laugh, opening their arms in tandem for Sienna to rush into, “we’re glad you like it Si-Si.”

“I love it,” Sienna corrects as she gives each of them a sloppy kiss on the cheek. 

“My turn now?” a meek voice cuts in and everyone's eyes fall onto Miles, who cowers slightly at having everyone’s attention. 

“Yeah it is,” Paige grins at her son, tickling him lightly in the stomach before pushing him towards the presents, “pick whichever one you want to open Mi.”

Miles chews at his bottom lip, cautiously observing the huge pile of presents before turning to his Mothers’ with a way expression and Paige has to hide her grin, knowing exactly what he’s about to ask. 

“Too many,” Miles says, bouncing nervously on his tiny little feet, “you help me pick pease Mama.”

Paige laughs as she gathers the little boy in her arms but not before she’s whispering in Azzi’s ear, “think he might be more indecisive than you baby,” which earns her a slight elbow to the stomach before she nods at her son, “of course I’ll help you pick sweetheart.”

She pretends to make a big show of searching for the right present, observing her son’s facial expression before she sees his eyes light up a little when she grabs a medium-sized blue one. 

“Aha!” Paige yells triumphantly, causing all the adults in the room to snicker at her antiques, “think you should open this one Mi.”

Miles grins as he makes grabby hands towards the present in his mother’s hand. It takes him approximately four and a half seconds to rip off all the wrapping paper and his eyes marvel at the gift in his hands. 

“Teddy,” Miles says in awe as he clutches the cuddly stuffed toy to his chest. 

“Yeah it is baby,” Azzi nods as she kneels down next to the little boy, “here,” she points towards the blue heart on his chest, “how about you squeeze it?”

Miles does as he is told, squeezing the teddy-bear’s heart as tightly as he can and it starts to glow. Paige and Azzi’s voices ring out through the room, singing -slightly off-key- Miles’s favorite lullaby. The little boy’s eyes widen when he realizes the sound isn’t coming from his Mothers', both of whom have their mouths closed, but from the teddy-bear’s heart. 

“Now, whenever you’re scared at night in your big boy bed, you can just squeeze teddy and it’ll be like Mommy and Mama are already there with you,” Azzi says softly as she brushes her hands through her son’s hair, “you like it Mi?”

“I’m gonna call it MoMa,” Miles says in lieu of an answer as he beams up at Paige and Azzi, “like Mommy and Mama but MoMa.”

Paige laughs, her eyes suddenly starting to feel a little wet, as she wraps an arm around Azzi’s waist, watching her children fawn over the presents they’d just opened. There’s plenty more left and she’s excited to watch their reaction to opening the others but the first ones are always just a little more special. And whether it was giving Sienna a basketball court, or giving Miles a version of their voices, through these gifts they’d tried to give their children a part of themselves. 

“Hey,” Azzi snaps Paige out of her trance, her hand reaching down to intertwine with Paige’s as she begins to pull her away from their family, “come with me for a second.”

“Azzi Fudd,” Paige puts a dramatic hand to her chest, smirking as she follows her wife upstairs, “are you sneaking me into our bedroom to have a quickie? While our family and our children are right downstairs?”

Azzi  turns to her with a cheeky grin as they enter their bedroom, tracing a finger down Paige’s arm, “would you object if I was?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely not. Let’s do it,” Paige waggles her eyebrows, pulling Azzi into her chest but the younger woman immediately shrugs herself out of it as she goes into their closet instead, “oh okay then, leave me high and dry on fucking Christmas Eve.”

“Shut up,” Azzi chides, still rummaging through drawers before she finally emerges from the mahogany doors with a small silver box, walking back to Paige with a small smile on her face, “I figured you should get to open a present tonight too.”

“Well the present I was hoping to unwrap was you-” her joke is cut off by Azzi laughing. 

“Baby please, you are way too old to be saying that shit.”

“Hey,” Paige says with mock offense, “first of all, I’m not that old and second of all, you’re never too old to be flirting with your wife.”

“First of all, it’s okay that you’re old baby, I like them a little older,” Azzi smirks, “and second of all, you are if the flirting's that corny and third of all,” she gives Paige a pointed look when the other woman open her mouth to counter, “shut up and open your present.”

“Still so bossy aren’t you princess?” Paige shakes her head but she does as she told, delicately removing the lid from the box and gasping when she sees the necklace inside, “baby, it’s beautiful.”

The necklace is similar to the engagement ring she’d gotten for Azzi, not the one from the fair all those years ago, but the real one. It’s a simple enough chain with a heart shaped diamond-encrusted locket, except on either side of the heart, the chain is looped into two infinity symbols. 

“Open it,” Azzi says softly. 

“What?” Paige asks, still staring dazedly at the dainty jewelry in her hands. 

“The heart,” Azzi points to the locket, “it opens.”

Paige does as she’s told, delicately using her nails to pull apart the locket and a fresh set of tears brim in her eyes when she sees what’s inside. On one side of the heart is a picture of Miles and Sienna, the twins grinning at the camera and Paige remembers the exact moment she’d taken it. On the other side, is a picture of Paige and Azzi; specifically a picture of their kiss at their wedding. 

“Baby,” Paige says again, uncannily lost for words. 

“You’re really fucking hard to shop for you know that?” Azzi says slowly, her own eyes glistening with moisture  “like what do you even get someone who basically has everything because you know- like you always say- we’re your everything -all you could ever want is me, Miles and Sienna- and we’re already yours, just like you’re already ours. And so I figured I’d just give you a reminder of it, something you can always keep with you so you always know.” 

“It’s perfect,” Paige breathes out as she holds the locker out towards Azzi, “put it on me?”

Azzi grins as Paige turns around and the blonde watches through the mirror as the chain is placed carefully around her neck and her wife firmly clasps it together before placing a soft kiss to the back of her neck. 

“I love you,” Azzi whispers when Paige turns back around, “for eternity.”

“I love you,” Paige whispers back, pulling her wife flush against her chest, the locket with her world hanging between them, “to eternity and beyond.”

[authorhjk1]

Merry Christmas!

Merry Christmas

(Yeri X Male Reader)

"We can't do this here."

"Why not?"

"Because we're in public."

"So? I'm really needy right now. Please? You look so good in this..."

Your wife lets her hands travel down your upper body, while she appreciates your perfectly tailored suit.

"Your little event here ended 10 minutes ago. The girls might already be looking for you. This can wait, until we get home."

"Admit it. You love the way I look right now, don't you?"

"Yeri..."

She wraps her arms around you, pressing herself against you. Her head is at the same hight as your chest as she looks up at you.

"This tight dress... Showing off my shoulders... Hugging my ass... And it's so short, you wouldn't even have to take it off."

"When we're home."

Yeri shakes her head, her knowing smile never leaves her lips.

"I know you want me. You're just playing the good husband right now."

"Even if that's true, what are you gonna do about it?"

One of her hands moves to your crotch as you speak.

"Come on, you must be so turned on right now, watching your wife in this tight dress, right? I bet you'll get even harder when I tell you this:"

Yeri gets on her tiptoes and you instinctively wrap your hands around her waist.

"I have no panties on."

She knows you too well. You were already a lost cause when you first saw her in that dress earlier today. And now, she's doing her best to seduce you. The little resistance you have left is quickly crumbling.

"We have to be at your parent's by seven."

It's the last card you can play.

Yeri takes your hand off her waist and twists your arm. Your watch says 5:30.

"30 minutes are more than enough for you to fuck me."

She kisses your cheek, lingering bear your face a little too long.

"Hard."

You feel Yeri just barely rubbing herself against your crotch. No one around you notices, but it's affective.

Without a word, you grab her wrist and lead her towards the nearest store. You walk past row after row of clothes, looking for the dressing rooms. Just when you see them in the distance, Yeri unexpectedly pins you against the wall. You're surprised by her sudden aggression. Otherwise, she'd never be strong enough to handle you like that.

"I'm just so desperate right now. I can't wait a second longer."

Yeri presses her lips on yours, locking you into a heated kiss. You instinctively place your hands on her ass, enjoying the way it feels under the dress. Yeri's own hands are in your hair, trying to pull you down a little.

When the two of you break away for air, Yeri's eyes sparkle with amusement.

"Six years of sex every day and I'm still addicted to your cock."

She kisses you once more, giving you no time to reply. Then, she teasingly bites your lower lip, making you flinch.

"I want it."

She whispers against your lips.

"Right now."

Her hands run along your body as your wife gets on her knees in the middle of the store.

You're glad there's a wall behind you and you're otherwise surrounded by clothes racks. No one will be able to see Yeri as long as they don't come to close.

Your pants are quickly lying on the floor and Yeri pulls down your underwear as well.

"Why do you always have to wear suits? You look so hot in them."

She talks while taking your cock into her hand.

"Just be quick."

You groan, not wanting to get caught. She's still an idol after all.

Yeri wraps her lips around your tips and then works her way down your length. She struggled with it the first couple times, but after six years together, your wife knows how to give you head.

You lean against the wall behind you as she works your cock, taking most of it into her mouth, while stroking the base with her hand.

Looking around, you see two employees and five customers. None of them seem to be interested in you. Even when Yeri starts to get louder. Some women brag about not having a gag reflex, your wife is the opposite. Hearing her choke on your length makes you rock hard every single time, but it turns her on even more. She loves sucking you off, because you enjoy it so much. The way you groan, the way a hand reaches for the back of her head, the way you sometimes start to thrust into her mouth, the way you say her name... It all makes her happy.

You feel yourself slowly gliding down the wall as your legs become weaker. Yeri knows all the tricks in the book by now, which makes it hard to last long, when she's really going for it.

Her head is bobbing up and down on your cock, coating it with her saliva. Her gags make you look around, whenever her lips reach your base, afraid that someone will hear.

"You're amazing, Yeri."

You sigh as your wife sucks you off in the middle of the store.

Only two minutes later, the two of you reach the dressing rooms. Now it's your turn to pin her against the wall. Letting your pants fall to the floor again, you reach under her dress.

"You feel how wet I am for you, baby? I need it so bad."

Yeri voices her need as your arm pushes up the hem of her dress on accident as you let your fingers wander through her folds, occasionally dipping a finger inside.

Without even having to take the dress off, you wrap an arm around her waist, pulling her lower body a little closer, before pushing your cock into her. Yeri moans out, amazed at how good it feels every single time. You quickly start thrusting into her, not intending to go slow at all.

Yeri soon becomes louder, almost screaming your name. You have to put your hand over her mouth, so the two of you don't get kicked out. As you keep fucking her from behind, you feel how her warm pussy clenches down around your cock. She squeezes you hard, her walls trying to make you cum as quick as possible.

"Your cock is filling me up so good."

You can still hear her, even through your hand.

"Keep nailing me against the wall. Just like that."

You bury your face in Yeri's neck, licking and sucking on her skin. It's her last schedule for the year and your marriage has been confirmed by her company for three years now. You don't care if you bruise her skin or not. Actually, you'd prefer it if you leave a mark.

"Fuck me harder. Punish me for being such a slut for your cock."

You do as she asks, wrapping your arms tightly around her slim frame. Looking down on her, you take in the gorgeous view of her cleavage. Taking her body like you own it, you keep plowing her from behind, probably making the employees outside aware of the two of you.

Your hands soon wander to her tits, quickly pulling the dress and the bra down a little. Having her tits played with makes Yeri's pussy squeeze around you even harder. Her juices are coating your cock by now as you bottom out inside of her with every thrust.

"Do it."

Her moan desperate.

"Choke me."

This is very aggressive, even for Yeri most of the time. But you don't mind at all. One hand wraps around her throat, giving her a light squeeze.

"Yes, ruin me. Ruin your little slut."

You growl into her ear in response, tightening your grip on her throat and on her tits.

Soon, you hear her trying to speak again, but the words come out weak.

"I-I'm gonna-gonna cum."

Your hand moves from her throat to her mouth within a heart beat, but you're still almost too late.

Yeri shakes, her body quivering, her legs almost giving out. She screams your name into your hand as her pussy contracts around you. But you don't stop fucking her. You keep pounding her through there orgasm, until Yeri starts talking again.

"Fill me up, baby. Cum in me. Please."

She can tell you're close as well.

You press your wife against the changing room's wall as you dump your cum as deep inside of her as possible. Another tiny orgasm rushes through Yeri as her body welcomes your familiar load.

"Wow."

She says as you lie your head on her shoulder.

"We should go out more often."

You catch her smiling into the wall and you kiss her slightly read cheeks, while the two of you catch your breaths.

Leaning over the bed, you carefully close the book you were reading from.

"Good night, princess."

You whisper, before kissing your sleeping daughter's forehead. You carefully leave the room, turning off the lights in the process. The three year old girl was so happy to be sleeping at her grandparent's place, that it was hard for you to get her to sleep.

Now you're entering the living room, after passing Yeri's parent's bedroom. You see her sitting on the sofa in one of your pullovers, hugging a cup of hot chocolate.

You sit down next to her and lie an arm around her. For a moment, it looks like she's lost in her own thoughts. But when she feels you next to her, Yeri smiles at you.

"Thank you for putting her to sleep. I have to show you something."

Her eyes sparkle with happiness as she reaches next to herself on the sofa.

"I took this while you were reading her the bedtime story."

Yeri is holding up a pregnancy test.

"I'm pregnant again."

You capture your wife's lips with yours, a million butterflies exploding in your stomach.

"I love you so much."

You whisper into her mouth, not able to break away from the kiss. Yeri puts down the cup and the test without looking and slings her arms around you. You lean in further, eventually making the two of you fall on the sofa with you on top.

Yeri instinctively reaches down, tugging at your pants. The fact that she is carrying another one of your children makes her long for your warmth even more.

A couple of moments later, you still lie on top of her, thrusting inti your wife with shallow and soft strokes. This isn't the crazy sex scene the two of you had a couple of hours ago. That was pure lust. This is love. The love you have for your wife. The love your wife has for you.

"Merry Christmas, I guess."

You whisper into her ear as you make her gasp in pleasure.

"Marry Christmas, baby."

-----------

Merry Christmas, everyone!

By now, this will probably come out a little late, but I hope you guys can still enjoy it. Just a short Christmas present from me to you, guys.

Stay healthy!

[nagis-wife]

𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓉𝑒𝓇: Nagi Seishiro, Eita Otoya, Rin Itoshi 𝒲𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉: 3k 𝒞𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓈: Accidental confessions - I love you. 𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈: fem!reader, fluff, comedy, pet names used, could be a little angsty at times but nothing over the top but figured I should mention it.

--- Authors note: I may have gotten carried away with these. But I hope you enjoy them nonetheless. It was not proof read either so if there's any mistakes apologies ♡

Eita Otoya ✩ ♬ ₊.🎧⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩ ♬ ₊.🎧⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ Eita nearly always wore his headphones to drown out the city sounds that never seemed to stop. He was sure he would have hearing loss by his 30’s if he kept listening to it as loud as he did. But it was the only thing that would drown out the beeping cars and someone yelling at someone for bumping into them. Eita loved his music more than anything yet somehow almost every single song he would play somehow reminded him of you. He wanted to rip his hair out, he wondered if you ever got so fucking tired from running around his head. Eita was sure, you did this purely to torture him.

“Eita.. Hey look at me yeah?” You spoke, voice sounding like an angel. Loud in his ears as if the people in the movie you guys were watching were just speaking in whispers. Eyes setting on your face, seeing your kind ones looking back at him with such a gentle gaze. He's never felt this way before. Sure he's been around a few times but nothing has compared to the butterflies twirling around in his gut begging for him to say how he truly felt. 

Things were casual, having met in a music store and going out on a couple ‘dates’. Eita saw them as dates, never knowing if you did. The two of you never discussed what either of you wanted. Eita didn't even know how you felt about him, let alone if you were even interested in him, more than just being friends anyways. Yet here he was, his hands clammy, feeling a lump in his throat and he felt faint. Eita tried to tell himself he was just being dramatic. That the worst you can say is no.

Eitas hands reached out to yours as he looked down at you as he blinked “Yeah? Sorry. What were you saying?” He said, as if he wasn't fully distracted by his own thoughts as they were seemingly in overdrive. As if his heart wasn't currently pounding in his ears, nearly drowning out you entirely. “I asked if you were okay, you don't seem well.. Do you wanna take a raincheck and come back tomorrow? I promi-” You were cut off by Eita sighing, not that he was irritated, he was, but with himself. “No.. no that's not it. I swear. I do have something I need to tell you though” He trailed off as he took a deep breath. “I have feelings for you. I could go as far as saying that my feelings are so strong one could possibly call it love. I've never felt this way about anyone before, and I'm not sure what to do about that.” 

You let out a laugh, Eitas veins running cold, not that it lasted long as he felt your hands wrapping around his waist, nuzzling your face against his chest. “Silly boy, ya know for someone who was a playboy, youre really bad at reading women” You teased as even you felt warm, weeks of courting Eita turned into this? One would say you were the winner here. 

Relief floods his pretty green eyes as he chuckles a bit, wrapping his hands around your waist resting his face in the crook of your neck. He felt so light, as if a ton of bricks was lifted from his shoulders. He closed his eyes for a moment enjoying the warmth that radiates from your body. “I think I should be the one saying that, my love. You have no idea how much you lift me just by being next to me, my beautiful muse” Rubbing his back as you sighed gently, 

“Yeah I can tell.. You flirt much less now with others, only with me huh playboy?” You joked as you pulled from him just enough to see his face as he stood straight up again with a knowing smile “Yeah yeah thats because of you idiot” Rolling your eyes you reach up to press a kiss against his cheek. “Whatever you say ya simp.” You joked as you grabbed Eitas hand watching from his apartment window the city below you, the snowflakes falling steadily. Eita grumbled something as he moved to sit behind you wrapping his arms around your midsection and resting his chin on your head. “That was rude” 

“Yeah yeah, you'll be okay playboy” You teased as he groaned. A laugh leaving your lips, yeah you two will be perfectly fine. 

✩ ♬ ₊.🎧⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩ ♬ ₊.🎧⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Nagi Seishiro  ‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

Nagi didn't think he needed anyone, and how wrong he couldve been. After befriending not only Reo but you.. Nagi soon came to realize that maybe everything isn't a hassle. Maybe.. Just maybe.. He actually enjoyed having you around. It wasn't often that he would pause his game just to respond to your text, hang out with Reo more often than normal, or even leave his apartment willingly just to see you. Nagi didn't understand his own feelings with this, looking up stupid articles about his feelings to try to understand them. One word kept showing up, “love.” Nagi was confused by this development. Did he actually love you? It wasn't the same rapid beating in his chest when he was hanging out with Reo, not that his heart skipped a beat when he was with Reo. That has to be it - right?

He wasn't sure how it happened or why his chest had felt so funny when you were around. Maybe it was the humidity in the air, yeah it was just the heat. Rather the heat that would raise on his cheeks when you so much as looked in his direction with a soft gaze, or even said his hair was cute and complimented him well. How his grey toned eyes fit his features so nicely. Nagi didn't know what to do with himself when these things happened, his face would get just hot, his stomach would do so many flips he felt sick. Nagi couldn't even handle your gaze, how would he be able to even hold your hand, to press his lips against yours. They looked so inviting, so soft. He would stay up thinking about you, how you would taste.. Shaking the thoughts as he tossed and turned. 

“Seishiro!? Earth to Seishirooo!” You waved your hand in front of his face as you sat across from him as he blinked a few times at you, his cheeks heating with a soft hue. Clearing his throat as he looked back down at his phone. His reaction made you stifle a laugh before leaning back in his bed, your back against the wall “Hmm something on your mind?” You questioned as your gaze drifted to your own phone as you scrolled through your feeds. Yeah, you. “Hell no. I was.. was distracted by uh.. something going on in my game. Don't worry about it. It's gone now anyways.” He lied through his teeth as you raised a brow and tilt your head to the side, almost as if you were calling his bluff. “Mm, right. So what was I talking about then?” Nagi couldn't recall a single thing you had said, too distracted by your lips and how the sun beams that seeped through his curtains hit the gloss that was on your lips. “Uhm.. uh..” He looked at everything but you as he tried to come up with something. 

An amused grin curled at the corner of your lips, leaning on your elbows. “I was talking about Reo and how he looked really hot, all dressed up y'know.” You too, lied through your teeth but that was not the point right now. Nagi felt an unfamiliar sensation flooding his veins as he clicked his tongue against his teeth before tossing his phone aside, a pout on his lips. He turned to you as he huffed. Jealousy and insecurities flooding his body. “I'm just teasing Seishiro I cou-” He cuts you off as he looks at you with eyes filled with determination which shut you up quickly as he opens his mouth several times before shutting it again. 

With his feelings being higher than he ever thought they could be he blurts out words you half expected to never fall from his lips “I love you okay!? I don't want to hear about Reo or h-how hot you think he is, or how strong he looks. I-I know I wouldn't match up to him. I've been alone most of my life. I don't know what these feelings are. I just know that.. I can't match up to him for you. I'm not Reo.” 

Looking at him with a shocked expression as a soft sigh left your lips reaching across the table grabbing his hands into your own. “That is the insecurities talking, Sei..” You moved closer to him as a hand rested against the top of his head, nails grazing against his scalp, earning a soft groan from his throat as he leaned into your touch.

You sighed softly as you felt the anxiety radiating from his body. “Sei. Do you really think that if I actually wanted Reo that I would be here with you all the time? That I would wait for you to come online just to be able to play games with you? Seishiro.. The feelings I have for you would outweigh anyone like Reo. No amount of money would change how I feel about you. I talk to the stars about you, whispering to the wind hoping you would hear how much I love you. Not even the Gods could keep me away from you Seishiro. I'm sorry if talking about Reo that way made you upset.” 

Nagis eyes searched for yours, as if he was looking for something in them. However he's only met with a soft gaze that was filled with nothing but adoration. He moves to sit up as he nearly tackles you back against the mattress, his arms wrapping around you rightly his head finding its place in your chest. A laugh pulled from your throat as he nuzzled against you. 

“You mean it?” He murmured, his voice muffled. 

“Yeah, I mean it, Seishiro.” You spoke as you reached to card your fingers through his hair as he gave your frame a squeeze falling in love with the way you felt in his arms. Yeah, maybe not being alone is nice.

Rin Itoshi ♡･ﾟ:｡.:･ﾟ♡･ﾟ:｡.:･ﾟ

Meeting Rin was purely an accident and neither of you remember how it happened. Well Rin did, he fully remembers the moment you walked into his life standing by his side even when he was the lowest he had ever been. Rin did not however remember when he fell for you. Maybe it was when he first saw you, maybe it was after. Maybe it was when you first breathed his name rather than calling him Itoshi. That didn't matter to him anymore. All he knew is what he wanted to protect you no matter the cost or consequence of his action. He would move mountains if you asked him too. 

Rin has always kept to himself, he found it hard venturing out, let alone understanding how he felt about you. Let alone he found it hard to even think with how he was that you would ever feel the same about him. Did you too feel the same as he did? Rin knew he was good at one thing, and still had his own self doubts. 

Now the two of you were on the train home, having gone to see a new horror movie Rin had convinced you to go see. You had been scared out of your mind the whole time while Rin didn't seem to even move a muscle while watching it. However the movie still ended up being really good. Rin had invited you over to his place for some dinner, and you weren't going to say no to his cooking. He somehow was amazing in the kitchen. Not that you knew how, but you weren't going to complain at all. 

The setting sun casted beautiful hues of pinks and purples in the sky. Stopping as you pulled out your phone, Rin had stopped looking back at you as you snapped the photo. Friends dont look at friends that way. However the thought passes as quickly as it comes into your head. 

“Rin wait, stay just like that, look up towards the sky.” You told him as he sighed but still entertained your request. Humming as you tisked before walking over to him grabbing his cheeks as you adjusted his head. His cheeks felt cold under your touch. “There just like that dont move pretty RinRin” You teased as you took a few steps back again taking a few snaps as you smiled at your phone. 

“Sometimes you should listen to me Rin” You mused as you showed him the photo, it did look great as he playfully rolled his eyes “Sure, I'd rather not do that. A bit too.. Lukewarm for me doll” 

A gasp passed your lips as your jaw slacked at his harmless insult. He most definitely did not see you as lukewarm. “Ouch I'm wounded, might need some homemade cookies and ice cream to fill the wounds you've caused me” You said dramatically as you gripped his jacket falling to your knees, giggling the whole way down. Rin couldn't help but to look at you with a raised brow and an amused expression. A chuckle being forced from his chest as he grabbed your hand pulling you back to your feet. 

“That was the most dramatic thing you've done, however if you want cookies you're gonna make them yourself or at least help me.” He spoke, a smile, albeit small, still on his lips. “Rin.. the last time you let me in the kitchen I almost burnt down your apartment and I also ruined the baking sheet. That's not a good idea.” 

Rin remembered this happening, the screaming of his name, and panic in your voice. Trying to waft out the smoke all while to get the smoke detector to stop beeping, crying out how the fire department was going to show up if he did help. All the while he was doubled over holding his stomach as belting laughs rippled from his throat. Rin was not helpful at all. It was one of his favorite memories the two of you shared. 

“Yeah I'd prefer if you didn't do that again. I'll take care of it” he spoke with a monotone voice as he grimaced.

Finally making it back to his apartment, with you not in the kitchen while he made dinner, choosing to just pull out the store bought cookies hoping it would be enough to appease you. Idle conversation filled the air as the two of you ate. However, getting a notification on your phone stating there had been an accident with the trains and you were now going to be stuck or get a taxi in hopes that it wouldnt take hours to get you home due to the amount of added traffic due to the trains being down. 

“You could always just stay over. I think you still have some clothes here, if not you can just wear mine.” Rin stated as if it was the only option. Not that he was wrong, however it did sound better than dealing with the hellish drive home. 

“Fine but you better keep your boyish hands to yourself” You teased as you skipped to his bedroom and flicked on the light. Humming as you changed into lounge wear, it was much more comfortable than what you had on before. 

Peering out from the door once you were in your Pj’s “Come on, I'm ready for bed. It's a damn good thing I have clothes over here from the last time I stayed over. I'd hate to be in your stinky clothes” You teased. Rin has never smelled bad. In fact you bought the cologne he had worn and even when he got low he would buy the exact same one again. You did say it was our favorite afterall. 

Rin let out a groan as he stood up and walked over to you, and entered the room. Following you into the bed, watching you wiggle around to find a comfortable spot as his hands came to his hips with raised brows, shaking his head with a chuckle. “You're somethin’ else I swear.” Rin walked into the closet to change in there as he stopped out. Seeing your chest steadily rising and falling. His gaze lingering for a moment. Taking out his phone as he took a few photos, to tease you with later. 

Finally climbing into the bed, he was sure you were in a deep sleep as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you against him. Selfishly he knew his feelings. Rin pressed a kiss against your forehead as he sighed. “I love you so much. You have no idea what you do to me, you little minx.” Although Rin couldn't have been more wrong as he blinked a few times as he felt you shift under his weight, peering up at him with wide eyes. “Ya know, confessions are best given when someone is awake RinRin.” You teased, as he avoided your gaze only for you to bring it back to you as your hand was pressed against his cheek. 

“And you're awake, so it makes it easier for me too.” You murmured as you leaned forward, lips locking together as if it was the most perfect puzzle pieces locking together. “I love you too. We will talk more about this in the morning and what that means for us, however, for now. Protect me from the monsters under your bed, yeah?” Rin only nodded, his cheeks tinted pink as his heart raced in his chest. Feeling you adjust yourself in his arms, your face in the crook of his neck. 

This was perfect. You were perfect.

♡･ﾟ:｡.:･ﾟ♡･ﾟ:｡.:･ﾟ

Likes and reblogs are appreciated! My requests are open as well!.

tags: @pixelcafe-network @hayatoseyepatch @hayatoseyepatch @sugurouge

taglist is open for bllk content, lmk if you want to join.

[cometconmain]

I have someone who comes to groom my dog because I physically can't keep up with it. He's extremely good at his job.

He also thinks Trump isn't all that bad a guy, the Democrats are the anti-human rights party, had no idea the Supreme Court was a thing/is controlled by Republicans and that's why so many human rights are being rolled back in America, refuses to actually use his privilege of having a preferential voting system to not have to vote for the two major shitty parties because he insists on believing nothing good has been done despite numerous proving points to the contrary in his own life let alone others' lives, thinks climate change is a hoax and can't wrap his head around why university studies need to be checked for a donor list and a fossil fuel company supported 'study' isn't reliable actually, hasn't even learned the most basic empathy concept of "you not suffering from a problem other people suffer from doesn't make that problem less important/you should care about people whose lives you don't experience", outright said with his full chest that maybe we should racially segregate the Olympics again actually, and a number of other toxic to downright rancid things I would have just written him off and slammed the door in his face for last year let alone a few years ago.

Don't get me wrong. Talking to him is fucking EXHAUSTING and I feel physically disgusting afterward having to just calmly listen to all these things he spouts which have historically resulted in entire groups of people being targeted for genocide and numerous other human rights abuses when left unchecked and allowed to fester at the societal level.

BUT HE LISTENS WHEN I CHALLENGE HIM.

I can see him actually seeing me as a human being worth listening to. He's older than me and definitely been down way too many right-wing rabbit holes for me to pull him onto the surface any time soon. But I'm giving him things to chew on and hopefully if we're lucky I've planted some seeds which will eventually grow into some semi decent human being plants one day. He's really ignorant and clearly under-educated and that itself isn't his fault and biting his head off isn't remotely going to make up for that gap and is only going to drive him further into the arms of whatever fucked up extremist conservative groups he's been listening to.

He is reachable. He's just also a very long project I only get to work on for an hour at a time every 6 weeks.

And some of the things I've said which I think were part of what got through to him involved showing empathy for him being a single father(? I may have mixed that up with someone else but I think he is) with a disabled kid. He shows empathy for disabled people because he's the father of one (and probably is neurodivergent himself I believe but unsupported and doing his best to give his son the support he didn't get from the sounds of it).

But yeah.

Listen: you don't have to take shit to the face if the person is solely malicious and trying to hurt you. No one is obligated to meet that with kindness and anyone saying otherwise can get fucked. There is a limit to how much bullshit someone can cop while the bullshitter acts like any emotional response to their bullshit is unreasonable/out of nowhere and that is valid on the part of the person copping the crap.

However, if you a) can handle coping long enough to break down those walls with unexpected kindness/it isn't dangerous for you to try that method (VERY IMPORTANT. PAY ATTENTION TO THOSE DETAILS. DON'T TRY THAT ON SOMEONE WHO IS ACTIVELY THREATENING/DANGEROUS TO YOU), or b) can tell it's soft bigotry/general ignorance driving the otherwise yuck things being said, do give the compassion and patient education route a try.

I've had numerous instances of me holding shitty ignorant beliefs I had no idea were actually harmful. The people biting my head off didn't get to me. The people who took the time to see I was just ignorant and under-educated on the matter (and hadn't yet developed the empathy for a group I didn't belong to) taking me aside and patiently dealing with my idiocy long enough to explain things to me in a way that got through my skull (and eventually into my heart as well) were the ones who fundamentally improved me as a person. I still have plenty of things I always have to work on. But I can tell you now I would be much MUCH worse without those patient, kind, educational interventions by people who could tell the difference between malice and ignorance.

The same applies to everyone else.

Human beings are human beings. All of us. Re-humanising each other is the last thing any of the politicians and extremist groups want us to do BECAUSE IT WORKS. IT BREAKS THE WARPED MODEL OF THE WORLD THEY PORTRAY AS REALITY TO DIVIDE US AND KEEP US ALL AT EACH OTHER'S THROATS INSTEAD OF CUTTING OFF THE FOOD SOURCE FOR THEIR WEEDS AT THE ROOT.

When we remind a hurting person that we are a person too, not the bogeyman the extremist groups paint us as, it shakes their warped worldview to the core. It makes them think. It makes them QUESTION. It makes them look at the flower the 'evil' Pride-pin wearer gave them because no one gave them flowers when their mother died and their hate begins to crack at the seams.

The things the world teaches men hurts men too. Teaching them they DON'T have to subscribe to that mentality all the way down to the roots of the patriarchy weed is the best and most effective way of cutting that mentality off at the source. Even if you struggle to empathise with men because you've been hurt; ok, valid. But it is demonstrably more effective, sustainable and long term changing to just get rid of all of it by addressing their pain and showing them how much healthier and happier they can be just in their own life let alone others' lives by casting off the system that hurts them too.

I'm pretty sure I'm just rehashing the same points here, sorry, but the concept of deradicalisation as a healing and long term change tool has been my social justice special interest this year so talking it out helps it solidify in my own head too. (And gives me strength to deal with bullshit because it reminds me it's worth copping what I can personally handle in order to get someone to think, change and grow, one exhausting person at a time).

part of the reason i love how bell hooks talks about masculinity is that she shows real compassion towards men suffering from the effects of toxic masculinity. she was conscious of how we need to unlearn the ways we talk about men + masculinity just as much as we need to unlearn the same for women + femininity. so many times ill see someone talking about toxic masculinity like (hyperbolizing here but only slightly) “these FUCKING STUPID BABY BITCHES won’t MAN UP and go to a therapist!!!” and like. i get the anger. but you see feminists recreating patriarchal manhood by only promoting good behaviors through patriarchal frameworks. any use of the term “real men” is bad because it reifies the idea that manhood is a special title you must earn, and it is something possible to fail and fake. & as important as it is to promote sexual equality + the pleasure of non-cis-men, lots of people are essentially still working with the idea that men need sexual prowess to have worth but just shifting it slightly so there is more emphasis on women’s pleasure. but I want cis men to think about their partners’ pleasure because they care about their partners, not because they need to check a box in order to keep their man card. and don’t get me started on small dick jokes– and the absolutely pitiful excuse people will use that “well, I don’t believe it, but misogynistic men get upset when I say it, so it’s okay!”

basically bell hooks is so fucking right. in order to create loving men we need to love men, simply for being alive, whether or not they are performing. as much as we need to actively unlearn misogyny (and we do), it’s equally vital we unlearn patriarchal ways of seeing manhood. we can’t just assume that taking a feminist perspective automatically means there is no work to be done there.

[holylulusworld]

How to cure a grump (3)

Summary: You’re losing your job on Christmas.

Pairing: CEO/Boss!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, grumpy Bucky, awful boss, mistaken identity, kinda fake dating trope, snowed-in trope

How to cure a grump (2)

Tonight, you don’t get much sleep. You toss and turn in your bed, knowing your boss, the man costing you your job and future, is sleeping right next door.

How dare he come here to demand shit from you after kicking you out two days before Christmas! Mr. Rogers knew about the password and PIN. He could’ve easily told your boss about it.

“Wait! That bastard!” You sit up on your bed and curse loudly. They are friends. Maybe this is some sick game they are playing. “I won’t be the butt of their jokes!”

When you get out of bed, you push your feet into the Santa Claus-themed slippers your mom got you for Christmas last year. 

Looking down at your body, you chuckle as the shoes look so different from the high heels you wore for work. They look like Santa's face. They have a white, fluffy beard and mustache. A red Santa hat sits atop each slipper.

“Fuck it,” you mutter and storm toward the door. If Barnes wants to mess with you, he’ll pay for it.

You storm into the guest room without knocking, immediately switching the light on.

“What?” Bucky looks at you like a deer in the headlight. He sits on the bed, in nothing but his boxer briefs. While you try not to stare at his abs, muscular arms, or the prominent bulge in his pants, he’s less subtle.

Bucky looks you up and down in your red and white Christmas-themed pajama set. “Are you often wearing onesies?” He snorts. Bucky never spent time with a woman wearing anything but silky nightgowns, or only a smile for bed.

You’re wearing a long-sleeved pajamas onesie style, featuring a fair isle pattern with elves, snowmen, and Christmas trees on a red background with white accents.

You huff. “I didn’t know you hold power over me in the bedroom too. It’s soft and plush, and I don’t give a shit if you like it or not. I want to know why you are here! Is this a trick? Do you and Rogers want to make fun of me?”

“Rogers must’ve forgotten you left the password,” Bucky grunts while wildly gesturing toward you. “I talked to him, and he didn’t mention it. If I knew about it, I wouldn’t have come here to spend the night at a guestroom in the middle of nowhere instead of getting drunk on Barbados, two hot blondes in my arms.”

You wrinkle your nose. “Figures,” you huff. “I’ll call Walt. Maybe, he can help us get you to the airport so you can leave all the little ants working for you behind to spend an annual salary on your vacation!”

“Not my annual salary,” he dares to say. Bucky even smirks, and you lose your temper again. Right when he gets up from the bed to grab his pants, you jump into motion and tackle him to the ground. He yelps as you slap him across the face, once, twice, three times.

Bucky grabs your wrists in an attempt to stop you from hurting him.

“Munchkin is everything—” Your mother chuckles as she watches you sit on top of Bucky. “Oh, kids, I’m sorry. If only I knew you’re celebrating your reunion!” She closes the door behind her, leaving you and Bucky to your fight.

“Tomorrow morning you are gone, bastard,” you growl. “Now let go of me before I castrate you.”

He smirks. “Your mom believed we were having sex. Did you keep her awake often while you were still living here?”

“Says the man whore,” you wiggle in his grip, snarling as he won’t let go. “I’m not the one with an endless stream of women leaving my bedroom.”

“Not only my bedroom.” He still smirks when he finally releases your wrists.

You hurriedly get up and glare at him.

“I don’t care. In the morning, you’ll find a way to get out of my house, and my town. Use your money for something useful for once. And don’t contact me again! You are dead to me”

Slamming the door shut behind you, you huff. How can women fall for your asshole boss? You can’t believe they only see his pretty façade.

“Morning, lovebirds,” your mother chirps as you make your way into the kitchen. She’s humming Last Christmas while you are in a sour mood. Bucky Barnes has this effect on you. “Oh, where’s James?”

You take a deep breath, ready to tell your mother the truth. This is a serious case of mistaken identity. “Mom, uh—do you remember that I told you my boyfriend broke things up with me some time ago?”

“Of course, Munchkin,” she coos while flipping a pancake. “I’m all for second chances, Y/N. Maybe he finally realized how much you mean to him. But—” She points a knife in Bucky’s direction the moment he steps into the kitchen. “If he messes up again, I’ll castrate him!”

“Like mother, like daughter,” Bucky grumbles as he steps further into the room. “Good morning. Please don’t start the new day by castrating me.” He flashes your mom a stunning smile, earning a giggle.

“Oh, I was joking, James,” she says and goes back to preparing breakfast for a whole football team. “What do you like for breakfast? We have waffles, pancakes, bacon, and eggs, or French toast.”

“I usually only eat egg white.” Bucky pats his stomach, rubbing it. “I try to stay fit.”

“For the ladies,” you sarcastically say. “Mom, he won’t stay for breakfast. James will leave now and try to get a flight back to New York.”

“What? No! He must stay for breakfast,” she sniffles and uses her powerful puppy dog look to make your resolve to kick your former boss out crumble. “What about the Christmas dinner? I already planned everything. I was awake all night!”

“Mom,” you sigh. “He needs to take care of business.” It’s not a complete lie. Bucky wants to take care of a few things back in New York. “Do you think we can make it to the airport?”

“No,” she pouts before taking a large bite from one of the waffles. You watch her chew slowly before speaking again. “The streets aren’t the only problem. Maybe we could make it to the airport with your dad’s old truck, but the airport is closed.”

“I got a private jet,” Bucky throws in, earning an angry look from you. Of course, that rich bastard has a private jet.

“James, no plane will take off today, or for the next days. Not even a private jet,” your mother points out. “If you’d excuse me now, I must pick up a few things for Christmas.”

“Mom, what about the snow?” You hate to see her sad face. “Do you want me to get what you need? I was always the better driver.”

“Your dad was the best driver—” She stiffens, and you can see grief flash up in her eyes. No matter how long he’s gone, she’ll always miss your dad. “He taught me everything.”

“I know,” you murmur and hold out your hand to squeeze hers tightly. “Do you want me to come with you?”

“Yeah.” She nods while struggling to hold back a sob. “I forgot to add a few things to my Christmas list. The streets should be free for now. We should hurry before more snow will keep us from leaving.”

Much to your dismay, Bucky decided to join you on your shopping tour. His pilot told him there was not a chance to get back to New York anytime soon. Now he needs a place to stay over the holidays and boots. It’s too damn cold to wear slippers.

“Over there you can buy boots,” you say, and point at the only shop in town selling warm boots. “I’ll get the things on the list, Mom. You can wait here.”

“Alright, Munchkin,” your mom says while watching Bucky look at you, brows furrowed. He dips his head to watch you storm off. “Don’t take it to heart, James. Christmas was always hard for Y/N since her dad passed away, and John left her for some other girl.”

“John, huh?” Bucky asks as you are busy buying everything your mom has on her list. “What happened?”

“It’s not my place to tell you, James. All I can say is that they wanted to marry the next spring and John decided to cheat.” She huffs. “Y/N moved across the county to get away from him, their business, and the girl he chose over her.”

“Their business?” Bucky presses on. “What kind of business?”

“Oh, nothing special. They—” Your mother gasps loudly as John steps toward you at your aunt’s bakery. “No, no! This will ruin Christmas for Y/N!”

“What?” Bucky follows your mother’s eyes, seeing you stiffen as John stands in front of you to chat you up. “That him?”

“Yes, I must stop him from hurting her!”

“Leave this to me.” Your mother smirks when Bucky enters the bakery. She even chuckles as John’s fiancé watches your former boss walk toward you.

Bucky, on the other hand, doesn’t know what came over him until he shoves John out of his way to cup your face and kiss you fiercely.

You whimper against Bucky's warm and plump lips. It's been a while since someone kissed you, and this kiss is on top of your list.

“Dude, excuse me! We were talking,” John grunts as Bucky and you part. You stare at Bucky, unsure what to do. “Hey! This is not the place to make out!”

“What?” Bucky turns around to smirk at John. “Sorry, I didn’t see you there. I was missing my fiancé, is all.”

“Fiancé?” John hiccups as you are too stunned to react. What just happened? Why did your former boss kiss you? Why is John here?

“Yes, fiancé. And I’d appreciate it if you stopped distracting her. Her mom is waiting outside, and it’s damn cold. We don’t want this lovely lady to get sick, don’t we.”

“Sure, sure,” John awkwardly stammers. “It was nice seeing you, Y/N. Have a good Christmas.” John and the woman he chose over you leave the bakery in a hurry.

You’re still shell-shocked and just watch them leave. What else can you do? If you slap Bucky’s face now, John knows this was all just play pretend.

Meanwhile, your mother stands outside the bakery, smiling to herself as Bucky nervously rubs the back of his neck.

More tags in reblog.

How to cure a grump@cjand10, @nofingjustaninchident, @pettyjayy, @pattiemac1, @formulas-bitch, @winchestert101, @greatmistakes, @mrsnikstan, @jokersqueenofchaos

[whirlybirbs]

 (  gif by @buchanans​ from this lovely gifset !   )

✪ — JUST TALK ; vacant mirrors holiday special

summary: you spend the holidays at the wilsons. you and bucky really need to talk. pairing: bucky barnes / f!reader ; established in vacant mirrors tags: set post-tfatws, situationship angst, holidays shenanigans, drunk bucky in uniform, they just don't make cigarettes the way they used to, sam wilson is oblivious, sarah wilson is god to me word count: 12k a/n: happy holidays you filthy animals, this is just an excuse of me to finally make these two talk about their feelings (   AO3    |    MASTERLIST   )

It's December 23rd.

The door before you, adorned with a festive wreath and flickering electronic candle, is not that of your family home in Morristown, New Jersey.

The crunch of gravel signals that your rideshare from the airport is pulling away. Headlights dash up the side of the house to illuminate candlelit windows and you offer a courteous wave to the older gentleman. You crane your neck to watch for a moment, then trace the parade of cars parked up the long driveway; all belonging to friends and family you don't know.

You exhale and check your phone one more time. 18 Dancy Avenue. It's the right address. So, shuddering down any lasting, remaining tatters of the fear you're at the wrong holiday party, you take a deep breath and knock three times.

Your luggage knocks at your ankles as you shift in your boots.

Inside you can hear the chatter of voices — the knock seems to startle a wave of jeers as someone calls out:

"Someone's here!"

Moments later, the door is sharply yanked open.

Sam Wilson's toothy smile has maybe — maybe — never been bigger.

"There she is!" he cheers, his expression bright and excited as he swings you into the sort of hug that makes every bit of lasting worry about being a burden melt away; the urge to run is fought off with seasons greetings, "Took your ass long enough—"

"I know, I know, but the traffic was a nightmare coming from the airport," you sigh. Sam Wilson, the nation's new Captain America, waves you off. He bends and snatches up your luggage without a word like the man he is.

"All that matters is that you're here," Sam leans in a little closer only after casting his eyes over his shoulder; the look in his eyes is mischievous — almost boyish — like he knows something no one else knows, "Bucky was starting to pace."

Immediately, a burst of nervousness flares in your heart.

Bucky.

Right.

You... You promised yourself that you'd finally talk to him about all this. About... About the kissing and the consistency and the fact he has a toothbrush at your apartment and you have a toothbrush at his and how this isn't just sidekick business anymore. You promised yourself you wouldn't ring in another year without telling him how you really, truly felt.

For now, though, all you can manage is a brave face. You roll your eyes and a nudge to Sam with your shoulder. Enough, it says. Leave it be.

(He's been leavin' it be since months ago, alright? Sam has seen enough to know there's clear-as-fuckin'-day something between you two — after all, it was only a year or so ago that you were dragged alongside them to Madripoor and Latvia, dragged through all the GRC shit. Sam has seen those thought-to-be private looks shared, he's seen the way you're the only person in this dimension with enough patience to wrangle a certain pain-in-the-ass hundred-something-year-old man. And he lets you. Sam's not stupid, and he'll be fuckin' damned if Bucky doesn't get it together and lock it down by the New Year.)

Sam ushers you in with a smirk, nudging the door shut behind you with his hip as you shed your jacket and boots. The house smells good. Like a warm, fresh meal and pie and cinnamon and—

"She lives!" Sarah laughs from the living room, standing up and weaving past the family members gathered on the sofa; her Santa socks pad softly against the rug, and the drink in her hand sways as she smiles, "It's good to see you."

You hug her tightly, arms around her shoulders, and beam. "Thank you so much for having me, Sarah."

"Oh, psh," she tsks and waves her free hand, "Least I can do — seriously. You keep those two in line. I dunno how the hell you stand the bickering."

She waggles her fingers at her brother (who sucks his teeth in quiet disagreement and rolls his eyes) before quirking a brow. Sarah's eyes wander behind you into the packed dining room where the younger cousins are gathered over a Lego set.

"Speaking of, where is tall, dark, and brooding?" she asks her brother.

"Yo! Buck!" Sam leans around the banister and calls down the hall, "Where you at?"

There's a sudden crescendo of laughter — and the heavy footsteps of a gaggle of teenage girls come pummelling down the stairs. Their faces are split into smiles. Shyness creeps in at the sudden new face at the family holiday party, and you offer your best smile in return. They slip past you into the living room, invested in the snacks on the coffee table.

This house is alive.

"Kitchen!" comes the call in return and your heart leaps into the same genre of kick-up that comes with the mere mention of his name.

Sam juts his jaw towards the direction of Bucky's voice — through the dining room and down the hall — before hauling your suitcase up into his arms. "I'll put your stuff upstairs."

"Thanks, Sam."

"You better not be messin' with my pies, Bucky Barnes!" comes Sarah's follow-up; she lowers her voice and serves you a look, "Your man has a sweet tooth something fierce."

"He's—" you swallow down a sheepish laugh; is there some mind-reading shit going on today? "He's not my—"

Sarah raises her hands in resignation, but her eyes say otherwise. "Right, right, right. Sure. Either way, you are the only one he listens to. So if he's touchin' my pies—"

"I'll make sure he isn't touching the pies," you promise, patting Sarah's arm before starting down the hall.

"And get yourself a drink, okay?"

"I will, I promise."

15 Dancy Avenue in Delacroix, Louisiana has been home to the Wilsons for generations. There's photo evidence lining the hallway walls — family photos and school portraits serve as milestone reminders in time. Sarah's wedding photos, Sam's Air Force graduation.

A pair of people (you recognize the woman as one of Sam's cousins he's mentioned — she's a lawyer) squeeze past you in the hall. On the back porch, the smell of a cigar is wafting through the screen door.

Everything is so alive, so comfortable, so warm.

And there, in the kitchen, is Bucky Barnes.

He needed to keep himself busy.

It's not like he was worried — no, no. He's fine. Absolutely fine. Totally not worried that this is a... a big deal or anything. Y'know, the whole c ome to Sam's for the holidays thing. Which essentially translates to come home with me for the holidays .

It's fine. You're like family to Sam, and Sam is family to him, and you are... important to him.

The most important, actually.

...You two still haven't ironed out the details just yet.

Not that he doesn't want to. He does. But he also doesn't want to ruin anything. Not after everything the two of you have been through. I mean, all of last year had you running around the world as his off-the-books sidekick dealing with Flag Smashers and super soldier serum and political intrigue... and... Zemo, that fucker. And now? It's quiet. For once.

Peace on earth and all that shit.

He's been worried this would be a lot all week. It was a lot for him the first time — I mean, Sam's got a big fuckin' family. Huge. Lotsa Aunts and Uncles which means lotsa cousins and even more second cousins. It felt like a real homecoming the first time he was folded into the mix over the holidays.

And, well, Bucky never really got one of those.

So, it was special.

"I'm here to vouch for the pies?" comes your amused voice from the doorway.

Speak of the damn devil.

Bucky's head snaps around — and immediately, a smile splits across his face. He can't control it. Not anymore, not when he hasn't seen you in the flesh in nearly five days.

That smile is a sight you're not entirely sure you'll ever be used to.

"Hi," you breathe, your cheeks already aching from how hard you're beaming — and you've only been here four minutes and counting. That nervousness, the good kind , only increases when he smiles back.

Immediately, his task of decorating cookies is forgotten and it only takes the apron-clad super soldier two long-legged strides to cross the kitchen and sweep you into a crushing hug. It's the sort of hug that warms your bones. The sort that makes you giggle — and it only worsens, when Bucky hauls you up off the floor just enough to make you peel out a bark of laughter.

"Put me down!"

"You said," he scolds you with a touch of humor as he plops you down; he waggles a vibranium finger in your face, wrestling with a smirk to try and seem serious, "You would text me when you landed."

You shrug as your eyes sparkle. "I thought it would be a nice surprise. I gotta keep you on your toes somehow."

"You're a pain in my ass," Bucky mutters, shaking his head. He's looking you over — he's taken up this habit lately. It's almost like he's running some silly checklist in his mind to ensure you're good. Comfortable. And you do seem to be. You look relaxed if not a bit tired.

Bucky likes this sweater on you.

You look... pretty . Really pretty. So pretty, in fact, that he has to remind himself to breathe. In and out.

When he clears his throat and sneaks a look over his shoulder you know he’s up to something. The kitchen is clear. From this spot, no prying eyes can see you two from the dining room.

The moment before he moves is laden with mischief — and you're about to open your mouth and ask him what the deal is with that look when he bends down and cages you against the doorframe.

Fuck.

Shit.

God damn it, James Buchanan Barnes.

The stolen kiss he pulls you into is slow and warm, tender and sweet. His palm slots against your cheek in a practiced motion of endearment. It's slow at first. Tentative and soft. But, then you place your hands on his chest and he takes that as permission to really kiss you. His stubble tickles. Bucky tastes like peppermint thanks to whatever drink Sarah has made for the grown-ups. He pulls away to catch his breath.

"I missed you," he croaks against your mouth, a vibranium thumb pressed to your bottom lip.

For a second, all you can do is blink and try to remember to exist . Bucky seems exceedingly unaware of the fact that he's managed to wind you — as always. He has no idea , you think, the things you'd let him do to you.

...Okay, maybe he has, like, one or two ideas.

"I missed you, too," you whisper back, dazed and trying to find your footing before you blurt out that you need to talk to him, you need to tell him that you really, really like him and it's the serious sort of like and you're not sure how much of this unspoken situationship you can do if you two don't make it spoken —

Then, the oven beeps.

"Shit."

The moment isn't nearly long enough. The kiss is even shorter.

Bucky leans around you, hollering down the hall; his hands are gentle on your shoulders, "Sarah, the pies—"

"—Don't you dare touch my pies, Barnes!"

Domestic bliss — or utter chaos — looks good on Bucky. His hands are raised in silent surrender when Sarah barrels into the kitchen, and Sam is hot on her heels. You try your best to wrestle the dazed expression off your face and play with your bottom lip, mind rooted entirely on the ghost feeling of his thumb.

"Christ, Buck, you haven't even got her a drink yet? She's a guest," Sarah sighs disapprovingly and shakes her head before leaning in close to whisper a scathing accusation, "You too busy fuckin' with my pies?"

"I'm sensing some animosity over the pies?" you cheep weakly over Bucky's shoulder.

Bucky throws his hands. "It was one time."

"And it was two pies," Sarah takes care to remind him as she flips the oven open; she's muttering to herself, "Who even eats two pies in one sitting?"

"I'm a growing boy."

"Oh my god," you scoff as Sam nudges the fridge shut and hands you a beer. Thank Christ . Wordlessly, you hand it to Bucky — he knows his job. He cracks the top off with his metal palm and then rolls his eyes. Whether it's in reaction to the pie commentary or his role as the group's personal, walking-and-talking bottle opener, you'll never know.

"They were for the VFW," Sarah continues as she — to her credit — pulls two perfectly baked pies from the oven. Pecan, and... sweet potato, maybe? "Speaking of—"

"You two have plans tomorrow night," Sam says as he fires a lazy finger waggle between you and Bucky. He leans back against the counter and swigs his beer.

Bucky is immediately on high alert. The super-soldier crosses his arms and narrows his eyes. "That didn't sound like a question."

"'Cuz it wasn't," the man tosses back, "Tomorrow night, the local VFW is holdin' their annual Christmas Party—"

While your face lights up, Bucky's face falls.

"Oh, that's nice—"

"—No," Bucky responds curtly as he unties his apron, "Not interested."

"Oh. Oh, no ," Sarah laughs and shakes her head as she skirts by Bucky to hang up her oven mitts, "I had that musty, dusty dress uniform of yours dry-cleaned for this. You are not backing out."

Bucky snaps his eyes to Sam. In another life, that look would kill.

Sam shrugs it off with practiced ease.

"Maybe you don't remember. You promised last year," Sam smirks into his drink, "That you'd go."

Bucky's jaw falls open. This? This is a complete and utter betrayal. "...I was drunk —"

"A promise is a promise," Sam goads, wetting his lips as Bucky's face twitches.

Meanwhile, your jaw is slack and you look like you've just been struck with the biggest news of your life.

"Hold on, pause, you were drunk?!" you incredulously fire back, holding onto your beer for dear life, like suddenly James Buchanan Barnes and his love for a shitty pilsner is a threat; you're in a whirlwind as you blink ferociously at Bucky, "Since when is that a thing?"

Bucky groans. He inhales, nice and slow, before sighing. His eyes roll to the resident Captain America. "Our dear friend Sam Wilson was kind enough to gift me some Asgardian mead for the holidays last year, which I am now realizing was just a damn long-con to rope me into this shit."

"Take a breath, will you?" Sarah rolls her eyes, over the dramatics of a certain super-soldier occupying her kitchen, "It's a buncha' old veterans and their families playing cards, alright? You'll fit in just fine, Grandpa."

"You stole my dress uniform?" Bucky narrows in on Sam and decidedly ignores Sarah entirely because, well, he's never been good at handling people telling him to calm down. Bucky leans momentarily over Sam's shoulder to make sure the younger bunch of cousins in the other room isn't listening before a string of swears flies from his mouth, "You fuckin' bastard. That's why you came over the other week, isn't it? Where the fuck did you even find it? "

"It's one of six outfits you got hung in your closet, man," Sam waves him off as he mimics his discovery of the uniform and mimes sifting through the closet, " Black t-shirt, black sweater, black long sleeve, ooh! A garment bag with U.S. ARMY and PROPERTY OF JAMES BUCHANAN BARNES OF THE 107TH branded across the front, I wonder what this is? What, you think I'm stupid?"

"—Stupid lookin'—"

"I'll knock you stupid—"

"Guys," you exhale, "Can we not—"

"He started it!" they both shout at once, turning on their heel to gesture to the other. For a second, you're in Madripoor. Sam is in that damn suit and heeled booties, Bucky is looking less like Bucky and more like the Winter Soldier. And somewhere, in the far distance, is Zemo's stupid voice. That guy seriously never shut the hell up.

Your laugh is a bark. You offer Bucky a swig of your drink. He takes it with an utter look of exasperation. The metal of his vibranium fingers tinkers along the brown bottle's neck.

"It'll be fun," you cock your head and slip a smile at Bucky in an attempt to soothe the now agitated look on his face, "Just an hour or two—"

"You know I hate my dress uniform," he murmurs as shoulders sag; and Sam almost snorts at how rapidly the angry guard dog persona melts away with you, "It's—"

"Itchy, I know," you lament as you take his apron and hang it on the back of the pantry door with the others, "But, they don't starch uniforms the same way they used to in 1943, Bucky."

"Really?" Sam's brows knot in confusion.

"I didn't know that," Sarah mumbles as she moves to pour peppermint schnapps into the drinker shaker.

Bucky looks utterly hopeful.

You wet your lips and hesitate, only to pull your bottom lip between your teeth and shrug. Your eyes dart between everyone in the kitchen. "I... I have no idea, actually — I was just hoping that me saying that would make him feel better—"

"Oh, come on!" Bucky throws his hands.

"It'll be fun!" you moan, throwing your head back.

"I hate fun," Bucky leans in, mocking you, before finishing the rest of your beer and tossing it into the recycling. You roll your eyes, cross your arms, and swivel on your feet. Your reindeer socks slide easily across the hardwood.

"You're being mean."

Bucky's back is turned as he eyes his handiwork with the decorated cookies. Sam's brows rise as he eyes the two of you. Here we go.

"I'm not being mean."

"Fine. You're being anti-social ."

"That's who I am," he chirps back as he tries to adjust the sprinkles on Rudolph the Red Nose Cookie, "You know this."

"—I'd even venture to say you're being a real Grinch about it—"

Sam smacks his teeth in awe that you even dared to go there, and Sarah scoffs to herself as she works the martini shaker. Bucky freezes, and his eyes immediately narrow. He knows what you're doing — you're goading him. He turns around slowly, his face set in determination.

"I'll have you know I love the holidays."

(It's true. Raised by a devout Catholic father and Romanian Orthodox mother, Christmas was one of the biggest holidays on the books. Even after his father's passing, James Buchanan Barnes, his mother, and his sisters always attended mass, usually alongside Steve's family. Then, they'd leave that immense, ornate church on Fourth Street and head home for food, games, and — when they got older — dancing, beer, and holiday parties with cute girls from their high school.

He appreciates giving gifts. It's always his favorite part. He vividly remembers being fifteen — tall and awkward — and saving all year to get Mama a box of fancy European soaps.

Four years later, he was mailing home the same Parisian soaps from the frontlines.)

You shrug, toeing the floor, feigning disapproval. "I dunno, that's a lot comin' from the guy at the holiday party in all black."

Bucky drops his hands to his narrow waist, his eyes narrowing further. He quickly and dryly volleys back: "One would argue the true meaning of Christmas isn't gaudy sweaters."

"You're right, Buck," you concede with feigned, deep sincerity and clap him on the shoulder roughly. He bobs and winces, "It's about spending time with those you care about—"

"Oh, fuck off—"

"Yo, Uncle Bucky, that's five dollars in the swear jar," comes the voice of AJ as he rounds the corner of the kitchen; Cass is in tow, the both of them scoping out the current state of sweets in the kitchen, "Hi Rabbit."

"Hey guys," you grin, tugging them both into quick side hugs as Bucky angrily digs out his wallet from his back pocket. He's jamming a crisp bill into the jar on the window sill when Cass speaks up.

"You and Uncle Bucky are coming to that thing tomorrow, right?"

It's like a well-aimed (and even better-timed) arrow to Bucky's knee.

He's got a weak spot bigger than the state of Texas for those two boys. You can see the defeat in his eyes. It makes you muscle a smirk off your face as Sarah catches your gaze and smiles to herself. She's pouring the drinks into four glasses when Cass continues.

"You said you'd come last year," he reminds the adults as he steals a cookie, "And take a picture with Santa."

"Santa?" you grin, stealing a look between the boys and Bucky — whose shame is just increasing with every reminder of his blitzed promises, "Oh, well, we just have to go."

"Yea, man, you love holidays," Sam reminds him with an edge of humor.

"Alright, alright," Bucky concedes with pain in his eyes, "Yes."

AJ pumps his fist. Cass gives a toothy grin that reminds you of Sam. All you can do is thank Sarah as she hands you a Peppermintini in a cocktail glass and smiles.

"Cheers."

Dinner is nice.

Sarah and Sam (and Bucky, apparently) had spent the entire day previous cooking — so you make sure to load up your plate with every fixing possible. Sam insists you go first, chattering to his cousins about you havin' just flown all the way here from New York, to your abject horror. However, beating the rush does score you a nice spot at the dining room table beside Bucky.

He's carrying two full plates. You snort a little at his mountainous portions but say nothing and continue on sipping your second peppermintini of the night. These things are dangerous. You can feel the buzz in your knees.

"Don't gimme that look," Bucky mutters as he scootches his chair in and drops his napkin to his lap, "If I get up for seconds, this seat is forfeit."

"Oh?" you question through a mouthful of mashed potatoes.

Bucky smirks a little then nudges your knee with his under the table, "Can't lose the spot next to my best girl."

Your smitten (and utterly panicked) smile is hidden in another bite of dinner. He's doing it — that thing. The... the flirting. But it's different from just flirting. It has feelings behind it.

He takes a huge bite of food, chews, then swallows. "I'm glad you came."

You shrug, elbow brushing his. "I'm glad I came too. This is really nice. The holidays are usually sad at home."

Bucky hums. "Your mom is visiting Fei's family with her?"

Your sister-in-law was delighted when you told her you'd been invited down to Louisiana for Christmas — and it was a good break in the usual grief-stricken schedule of the holidays at home in Morristown. You were all still mourning your brother. The holidays always made it worse, and... well, misery loves company. It feels strange to break out of that pattern of gloom. It was like Fei sensed the guilt radiating off you, and quickly she urged you to go, to accept the invitation. So, your mom joined your sister-in-law and niece on a little holiday trip up North to see Fei's parents.

You just nod.

"Next year," Bucky roughly says after a minute of mashing his sweet potatoes around; he swallows tightly, "We should, uh... We should spend it with them, maybe. Your mom, Fei, and Naomi."

The suggestion makes your heart tighten.

Next year.

We.

Your smile blooms slowly as Bucky's eyes scour your face for any sight of resistance. He doesn't find any, only that little glimmer of something he can never figure out when talk of the future comes up.

...He needs to talk to you.

"That would be nice," you agree, your mini wreath earrings swaying as you nod. Buck's smile is warm.

He reaches under the table, his vibranium hand squeezing your knee. Your hand follows, giving his knuckles a squeeze back. Bucky keeps his hand there, holding yours, through the entirety of dinner.

"Alright, pack it up! Outta my damn house!"

Sarah's call for the party's end comes at 10:30 — and you're glad. In the span of the last hour, you've been absolutely grilled by Sam's gaggle of younger high-school-aged second cousins on your entire life story and if you're an Avenger or not. You're on your fourth (count 'em, four) peppermintini and Bucky has mysteriously disappeared with Sam for an after-dinner walk.

You tried to join them but were ushered back into the warm house and told it was important ' guy time'.

Fine. Whatever.

By the time the house is finally empty, Sarah is ushering AJ and Cass up to bed and you've successfully melted into the couch by the Christmas tree while Die Hard's credits roll across the television screen. This is really nice. You take a moment to let it sink in.

Then, the front door opens, and Sam and Bucky spill inside — and you can immediately see they're up to something.

"Where have you two been?" you lazily ask, sitting up and taking the last sip of your Sarah Wilson specialty cocktail. You lean over the back of the couch and narrow your eyes at the two of them in silent judgment.

"Garage."

"I thought you went on a walk?" confusion passes across your face as you mumble.

"A walk," Bucky says coolly, "To the garage."

Your eyes snap to him. His cheeks are pink. You see him swallow down a grin; his posture a bit more relaxed than usual. Bucky leans to muscle his boots off and sways.

"Is everyone gone?" Sam asks with a touch of seriousness.

"Yea, Sarah's putting the boys to bed," you say slowly, "...Why?"

Your jaw drops open when you spy the bottle Sam procures. It was tucked under his jacket, and now that the coast is clear, he holds his prize high in the sky.

"Can't have anyone — especially Carlos — tryin' to get a sip of this."

Asgardian mead.

Your smile cracks wide open.

...Bucky is drunk.

It's painfully apparent now — worse when the resident super-soldier stumbles into the living room and collapses onto the couch beside you without regard for leg and limb. He pops his socked feet up on the coffee table and exhales. Your jaw is still open, the crest of a grin threatening to sweep away your awe in favor of total joy.

"You want another drink, Buck?" Sam calls over his shoulder from the hall.

" That’d be awfully kind a’ you, Sam ."

You laugh. You laugh, and Bucky melts further into the couch as you tuck your legs beneath you and lean into his orbit. His arms are splayed along the back, his eyes shut, and he looks utterly blissful in this state of... tipsy? You're not even sure — in the nearly two years you've known Bucky, you've always understood he couldn't get drunk. Something about super-serum impacting metabolisms and protein synthesis.

This is new.

Your hands press against his thigh, and Bucky tries to ignore the warmth of your hands through his jeans.

"You're drunk," you accuse with glee, "Are you drunk?"

"Getting there," he grunts, a bit like an old man — and you think that's awfully cute.

"This is, like, seeing a shooting star," you coo, watching him crack an eye open and smirk at your evident excitement; it's cute. It's clear that your joy comes from seeing Bucky relax enough to even get drunk — albeit on whatever potent drink-of-the-gods Sam is serving up as they speak, "This is insane."

"It's not insane , " he counters easily, shrugging a little deeper into the cushions; he moves to pat your knee. But, his hand stays there , "You doin' okay?"

"Mhm," you nod, resting your cheek in your hand and you settle in a little closer to him. Still, a distance that would seem friendly to Sam and Sarah's eyes — but close enough that you can pick a stray sprinkle off his shirt with wandering eyes, "Those drinks Sarah makes are dangerous."

"You were slammin' those things back," Buck mutters with an edge of humor, "I was worried I'd have to carry you to bed."

You smack his chest and ignore the burning implication. He chuckles.

"You gettin' tired?" he asks after a moment of comfortable silence held by the fire in the embrace of the holiday warmth.

"A little," you relent with a shy shrug. Bucky's touch turns tender for a second; he's looking at you like you've hung every star in the sky, and it makes you choke and stumble on your words. You'll never get used to it — ever.��Seeing him so... content. Soft. Warm and relaxed. It's a gift in and of itself.

“You’ve had a long day,” he ruminates quietly. He's staring.

He's silent for a second, and then when he speaks it's nothing more than the quietest whisper among the crackle of the fireplace. His eyes trace the lines of your face, trying to commit it to memory.

"You're really beautiful, y'know."

He wishes he could frame this moment — the fireplace, the Wilson's hung stockings, the tree. You. It's home. It's everything he loves.

He looks twenty-something and in love when he says it. Untouched by war, by HYDRA, by horror. He looks young in the warm light of the tree, the fire, and the string lights. It makes you shy. You tuck yourself closer to the cushions and obscure your lovesick smile into your palm. Bucky eats it up .

Another whisper. He shakes his head as he speaks.

"God, I wanna kiss you again."

It's enough of a cue to bring you closer. Wordlessly, you drag yourself towards his chest and press a palm to his cheek. Bucky's hand tenses around the curve of your thigh. You're about to kiss him senseless when Sam's voice cuts through the palpable tension just as he rounds the corner.

"I tried to make it into some sort of... uh..." a blink. You're now on opposite ends of the couch from one another, and Sam swears Bucky is blushing, "You two good?"

Bucky takes the tall glass of questionable decisions from Sam as he clears his throat. "Never better. Thanks."

"Drink up," Sarah says as she wanders halfway down the stairs, bidding everyone goodnight; she points at Bucky, "You and bird brain over there are sharin' this couch tonight. You know where the sheets are. Rabbit, you're up in the guest room."

There's a pause.

Then:

"No funny business."

It's directed at Bucky.

The super soldier offers a sheepish thumbs up, and you purposefully ignore the little look he slides you.

...Did you miss a memo?

Sam waves her off. "See you in the mornin'."

"'Night, Sarah," Bucky calls.

"Night!" you call out to her.

Bucky takes a long sip of whatever the hell Sam has cooked up with the Asgardian mead. It isn't half bad, but this stuff is strong. Like a kick to the back of the knees strong.

"Need help cleanin' up, Sam?" you ask after him as he disappears towards the kitchen, only to find he's returned rather quickly with a parcel in hand. It's old, latched shut — you realize it's a fire-proof box.

"Nah, we'll do that tomorrow," he shrugs, "Bucky and I got you a little somethin', though. We wanted you to take a look."

You quirk a brow. "Was this also in the garage?"

Bucky takes a sip of his drink and smirks. "Sure was."

Sam sets the slate grey, metal box on the coffee table gently. It looks familiar. He stands back, offers his best Captain America smile, and waves you on. Immediately, you're suspicious but do as is expected. The latch securing the fire-proof box shut is a little rusted. It jingles softly against the metal when you flip it open and ease open the lid.

...Inside are papers.

Letters.

... Photos.

Immediately, you snap the lid shut and whip your head up to Sam and Bucky. Goosebumps. You have goosebumps. Sam is grinning and Bucky looks like the cat who got the canary.

Because in this box?

It's history.

Steve Roger's personal collection of history.

You've seen this box before, that's why it's familiar — in his room up at Elmwood. He would consult it often with Bucky by his side and pull tattered and faded memories out to reminisce on.

You're shaking your head when Bucky speaks.

"He wanted you to have this," says Bucky after a moment passes, "He said so."

"I can't possibly—"

"Yes, you can," Sam says as he plops down beside you on the sectional, "What, am I supposed to give it to the Smithsonian? We saw how that worked out last time."

Right.

The shield.

The alcohol in your system is making you emotional. You're clutching the box to your chest tightly, looking absolutely two beats from crying.

"Are you sure?"

"C'mon. Open it up. I haven't looked through everything," Sam says softly, rubbing your back, "And I thought it would be nice. Y'know, the three of us, talkin' about Steve. Like good ol' times."

Your face softens.

Bucky's heart clenches.

And Sam? Well, Sam's never been good when people start crying, so he just yanks you into a rough hug that feels brotherly and warm. "No, no, no tears — quit it, open the damn box, you sap."

"I told you she'd cry—"

"I'm not crying," you say as you definitely wipe a stray tear away as you toss a Santa-themed throw pillow at Bucky, "This is just... really nice. Like, really, really nice... I... It means a lot to me."

Sam lets out a soft breath. You've always held Steve in high reverence — Sam knows the whole bit about that signed poster in your apartment. He's seen it. Never let Buck live it down, either. With Steve's mantle now formally his, Sam can't help but feel glad he has someone on his side of this who cares so deeply.

"I promise I'll take good care of it," you whisper.

Sam doesn't say it, but that's why he's giving this to you.

Bucky's up and moving; he knows how you get about the sentimental stuff. You're like him about memories. They have a profound way of moving you. So, Bucky plops beside you and throws an arm around your shoulder as you sniffle. His voice is low, and Sam pretends he doesn't see his best friend soften. "Let's see this thing."

You take careful pride in opening the box again, your fingers gracing the tattered edges of photos and letters and newspaper clippings and folded posters. It's immediately clear this box had become Steve Rogers' catch-all for things that meant something to him. The thought alone makes your chest ache.

You slowly reach in, pull the entire pile from the box, and carefully set the bundle of history in your lap.

You feel, suddenly, like you're in college again — clamoring over Captain America memorabilia, obsessed over his career, proud of your favorite Avenger.

The first thing on top of the pile is a photo of Steve, Bucky, and Sam. It's a few years old now — if you had to guess, you'd assume before the Snap, after the Sokovia Accords. Bucky's hair is long, Sam looks the same, and Steve is young. They're crowded together, Steve in the middle. Gingerly, you turn it over.

Best Friends, 2017.

The next thing in the pile is a bundle of letters — they still smell faintly of roses. You spy an address and the neat penmanship of Peggy Carter. Bucky, beside you, hums softly.

"He wrote her all the time," he utters as he takes the bundle into his hands; he flips through them, eyeing only the dates — as if the privacy of their romance wasn't for him to read, "We'd be in some bombed out house in the South of France, no light orders, and he'd beg me to borrow my lighter. Just to write somethin' quick."

Sam shakes his head as he lets out a laugh. Bucky hands the letters back and you smile, thumbing the old rubber band keeping the bundle together.

The next thing in the box is a handful of photographs — old, curled up, black-and-white photos that were never really in focus. At some point, it's clear they'd been kept in a photo album of sorts. There's a discolored smear of dried glue on the back of most of them where dates are scrawled.

Photos of a cozy home, photos of a dog, photos of a laughing woman you realize suddenly is Peggy Carter. The wood paneling in the living room dates a handful of photos in the seventies.

And then there's the older stuff.

Stuffy portraits of a skinny Steve and his mother, rare childhood photos taken at holidays. Bucky laughs at these, shaking his head as he takes a long drink.

And then — photos of Bucky.

Sam whistles immediately, snagging the first photo off the top of the pile and shaking his head. "Woa-ho, man — okay , lady-killer—"

Bucky's face falls and he rolls his eyes. "I don’t know why he kept this shit—"

Steve took these. Bucky remembers.

"Lemme see," you chatter, leaning over to take a look — and Sam is right. It's a bit blurry, and a little off-kilter, but it's a weathered photo of James Buchanan Barnes on the stoop of an apartment building. He looks young. Maybe seventeen or so. His hair is slicked back neat, and he's got a dress shirt on. There's a cigarette dangling out of his mouth. He's mugging for the camera — and he's so young .

Your smile is sweet as you pin Bucky with an adoring look.

Bucky rolls his jaw.

That itch for a cigarette is back — the same one that creeps up on him every now and again.

Sam, again, pretends not to notice the adoring tension between the two of you.

"I was a kid," he snaps at your puppy dog eyes, "Let it rest."

"Oh, there's more," Sam crows as you place the picture of Bucky gingerly aside — and the super-soldier notes that it's separate from the letters and photos of Steve. Like you're saving it for you. And something about that makes him feel dizzy.

Sure enough, the next photo is, again, of Bucky — but this time, he's older. Sharper. He's in a kitchen, and there's two girls at the table behind him. The flash melts them into the background, and all you can focus on is how handsome Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes of the 107th looks in his United States Army dress uniform.

All you can muster is:

"Wow."

It's a whispered prayer.

Bucky shifts uncomfortably in his spot. He moves to take the photo from you. "Yea, wow , who is that loser?"

"Stop it," you scold him gently with a whine, pulling it tightly to your chest before he can steal it away, "Don't say that. You look very handsome."

He's smiling in the photo. A real smile. You can almost hear the laugh that accompanies it. There's something in his hands — and you realize suddenly he's helping his mother cook in the photo. Those girls in the back must be his sisters.

The sight of the memory, frozen in time, makes your heartstrings tighten.

"Well," Bucky kicks his feet up and tries to ignore how tenderly you hold the photo of him, "You'll see just how stupid it looks tomorrow."

Sam rolls his eyes. "You are so dramatic."

You can't get over how handsome he is. You're staring — trying hard to memorize the photo — when Sam moves to pluck another piece of history from the pile.

It's Steve and Bucky, together arm-in-arm, in their Howling Commando uniforms. They're laughing, there's a banner hung behind them in the photo. Beside you Bucky sits up, his face brightening.

"I remember that," he says slowly like he's piecing it together; his words are looser with the alcohol, "Christmas. It was Christmas, and we were in England. Couldn't make it home, so... Peggy tossed the Commandos a little Christmas party."

Then:

"I was piss drunk."

You snort, handing the photo from Sam to him, and watch Bucky's eyes light up. The admission is soft and honest. "I was so drunk, I remember throwing up in Steve's cot — and the next morning, the Colonel had us running a debrief. Had to step out four times to puke beside some sorry bastard's tent."

He goes quiet for a moment. His face shifts into something somber.

"I, uh... I fell off that train car a month later."

Your eyes slip down his face, to his hand. His vibranium thumb is carefully tracing the scalloped and faded edges of the photo. The feeling of your palm across his back brings him to the present, and Bucky clears his throat before tossing the photo back into the pile.

There's more in the bundle in your hands — but you and Sam know how to read the room. Carefully, you return everything to its spot in the pile, save for one photo, and latch the box shut. You give it one more good hug before placing it beneath the tree beside the other presents.

"Thank you."

Sam's got the sheets in his hands, and he's tossing a bunch of pillows at Bucky. "You're up in the guest room, Rabbit — I put your stuff in the closet. If you need anything..."

"I'll holler," you smile, hugging Sam tightly.

Bucky feels... strange. Usually, he'd follow you to bed — curl up beside you. These days, you two flip-flop between his apartment and yours on account of the cats: Alpine and Mr. Poke Bowl. But, here? In front of Sam? It's... It's different.

"'Sleep tight, Rabbit," he offers instead.

You nod, and he realizes you still have that photo of him held tightly in your hands as you slip up the stairs into the dark.

"...When are you gonna tell her, man?"

Bucky is flat on his back, staring at the ceiling.

Across the room, Sam is in the same position.

His whisper is urgent, and in the dark, Bucky can almost see Sam's exhausted expression.

Bucky sighs.

"No, no, don't you — don't you sigh at me," Sam bites back; Bucky hears him shift to sit up, "It's like soft-core porn without the porn between you two—"

"What the hell does that even mean?" Bucky mutters — translation: shut the fuck up.

"You said you were finally gonna tell her how you feel," Sam urges. He waves his hand through the air, looking increasingly more stressed out, "What's stopping you?"

"I'm me, Sam," Bucky all but snaps in a harsh whisper, "Alright? I'm — I'm a fuckin' mess. Who would want that?"

Sam grows quiet. Then, he huffs out a defeated sigh. He knows when to pick his battles, and he knows this one is Bucky's to fight. The new Captain America rolls over with a grunt, but not before firing off:

"I've seen the way she looks at you."

Bucky tenses his jaw.

"She doesn't look at anyone else like that."

With that, Sam shuts up and Bucky is left alone with his thoughts in the dark of the living room.

He can be quiet when he wants to.

It's like muscle memory. The Wilsons' home has old bones and likes to settle at odd times in the night. Bucky uses that to his advantage as he climbs the stairs to the second floor.

Downstairs, Sam has already started snoring on the opposite end of the couch.

Sarah, in the master bedroom, is fast asleep. AJ and Cass are too, and Bucky checks on the boys out of habit.

The light in your room is still on. Warm light bleeds under the crack of the door, and Bucky debates for a long minute if he should be doing this. The other option is lying awake downstairs on the leather sectional and spiraling over his feelings.

Flesh and blood knuckles rap gently on the door.

"Come in."

You're in bed, thumbing through a book he recognizes as the one you've been working on since last week. It's been a bedside read. Something about star-crossed lovers through the dimensions. There's a god, he thinks. And a... scientist? He can't remember the details. You had rambled about it to him one night while he fell asleep after a long patrol.

You look adorable — skin clean, glasses on. You've been regimented about your bedtime routine lately.

There, beside your phone and a bottle of Lexapro, is that photo of him in his dress uniform.

Bucky's silent as a mouse as he closes the door to the bedroom.

"Sarah is gonna kill you if she knows you snuck in here," you whisper as he creeps closer; he's clad in a pair of boxers and a t-shirt, "Her house, her rules—"

No funny business.

Bucky's knee hits the edge of the bed, and he slowly tugs the book free from your fingers. He's slow to place it on the nightstand. The twin bed creaks, and he freezes to listen for any reaction from the sleeping house, before leaning farther down to catch you in the kiss he's wanted since you arrived.

Warm. Slow. He tastes like toothpaste. His hands are cradling your face as he kisses you senseless — his nose nudges yours as he breaks away for a breath.

His dog tags jingle as he hovers over you.

"What're you doing with this, huh?" he smiles; he reaches and plucks the photo from your nightstand and turns it over in his fingers while he watches your reaction. The corners of his eyes crinkle in that way that makes your body feel hot.

You grow sheepish. "It's special."

"I look like an idiot, Rabbit," he chirps as he gently takes the photo and settles to sit on the edge of the bed, "It's ridiculous."

His mother took this photo the day before his deployment. He remembers pieces of this memory — but not the whole thing. He can't for the life of him remember what he's helping her cook. Becca and Mary are playing cards in the back. They'd just been arguing over curfew, trying to get him to walk them to some dance that night.

Bucky barely recognizes himself.

Strangely, this version of him has no idea what sort of life would play out. This version of him wasn't hardened and cold, wasn't broken and pieced back together. This part of him wasn't a weapon yet.

"I think you look handsome," you murmur dejectedly, taking the photo slowly from his hands and cradling it close, "And if I had a locket, I'd put this picture in it."

Bucky's grin is wry as he eyes you over his shoulder, his hands resting in his lap. "...You'd put me in your locket?"

If you squint, it’s the opening to the conversation you’ve been avoiding. "Who else would I put in one?" you shake your head in disbelief.

"Not Cap?" he quips, whistling quietly, "You've changed."

"Oh, no, it's you on one side and Star Spangled Steve Rogers on the other," you play along, enjoying the way Bucky looks back at you against the pillows, "Don't even think for a second—"

His laugh is a low rumble. His shoulders shake, and you can't help but sit up in bed and reach for his arm. He bends, his chin resting atop your head as you hug his bicep. He plants a sturdy kiss on the crown of your hair before you raise your chin and look him over.

"Are you okay?" you whisper, "I know the memories can be a lot."

His lips quirk; another kiss, this one slower — and suddenly Bucky understands softcore porn without the porn . "I'm better now."

"Promise?"

"Promise," he murmurs against your mouth, his original goal of talking swept away in favor of touching. You're soft and gentle and make him feel whole. It's worse when you touch his dog tags beneath his shirt. It's worse when you let him deepen the kiss.

Focus.

You're on a mission, Barnes.

"Rabbit, I — I gotta talk to you about something—" he forsakes himself, stealing another open-mouthed and searing kiss because god damn it, you are so beautiful.

You barely hear him, you're too busy melting into another kiss. "Okay."

"It's important," he stutters, the feeling of your hands slipping up his chest providing an unsteady distraction. Another kiss. Another groan — because you're doing that thing where you play with the hair at the back of his neck, "It's about us —"

Your heart catches.

You pull back slowly, and Bucky feels panic strike his heart with how vulnerable you look. "Us?"

"—I said no funny business."

Sarah Wilson cuts an imposing figure in the shadow of the doorway. Her gaze lacks judgment, but god damn it — her timing is impeccable. Bucky's hair is a mess, his lips kissed red and you're no better, staring slack-jawed at him and terrified at whatever Pandora's box Bucky was about to open. You blinky rapidly between him and Sarah.

It's important. It's about us.

"C'mon, loverboy. Up," Sarah shakes her head at him, "That ain't your bed."

Bucky grits his jaw. "I was just saying goodnight—"

"You coulda done that downstairs," she scolds, "Or with the door open—"

It's important. It's about us.

"Fine," Bucky relents, standing to full height before raising both hands. Sarah tugs her robe a little closer, " Fine."

"Goodnight, Bucky," Sarah retorts as the super soldier slinks away, disappearing down the hall only after he tosses a lingering look your way.

"Yep, 'night."

It's important. It's about us.

You don't sleep a wink that night.

Christmas Eve morning, traditionally, is a slow morning.

It's late by the time you pull your eyes open and look at the clock on the bedside table. The sky over the river is blue and dotted with fluffy clouds. Though there's a distinct lack of snow in Delacroix, Lousiana, it's still a rather picturesque view.

The house is awake.

You shrug on a sweatshirt and a pair of joggers before slipping downstairs hellbent on a cup of coffee and something to eat — lest you start to dwell on whatever Bucky wanted to talk about last night again.

It's important. It's about us.

Padding down the stairs, you're immediately greeted by AJ and Cass. They're dueling it out on Mario Kart. They don't even look at you when they greet you in sync. You fire off a good morning in turn.

Sarah's in the kitchen.

There's a plate of bacon and eggs set aside for you.

"Good morning," she greets with an edge of a smirk, "Sleep well?"

All you can do is let out a long sigh and pull out a chair at the counter. Sarah, as she works on platting a box of catering for the VFW, slides you a look out of the corner of her eye. It's mischievous. You ignore it, trying to be normal.

"Where are dumb and bummer? " you ask, noting the dual plates in the sink.

"Out for a run," she rolls her eyes, "Fine by me. I needed a break."

You hum, take a sip of your coffee, and cross your legs.

"C'mon now," she chides after you silently take a big sip of your coffee, "Spill."

You almost choke. "I—"

"Y'know, it's cute," she begins, closing the lid of a box. Sarah's attention is now focused solely on you as she leans against the counter, "The two of you."

You're not sure why that hits you square in the heart.

You pause. Your lashes flutter for a second before you drop your gaze.

It's important. It's about us.

"Thanks, Sarah."

"He's nervous, I think," she mutters as she offers some hot sauce from the fridge for your eggs; you graciously accept it, "About you seeing him in uniform."

You almost laugh. "What?"

"Yea," she chimes in, "He said somethin' this morning that made me wonder — when's the last time he even wore that thing?"

Before everything, probably.

Before the Winter Solder , before the train car. Back when he hoped for a homecoming to his mother and sisters, back when he was young, back when he was told they'd be home by Christmas.

You chew thoughtfully. The truth tugs at your heartstrings.

"I think," you exhale, "The last time he wore it was a very long time ago."

The VFW in downtown Delacroix is small — but it's clear from the packed parking lot that this little holiday party draws a big crowd. You hop down from Sarah's tuck, shrug your wool coat a little closer, and follow her around to the tailgate. AJ and Cass are corraled close and handed boxes of meals by their mother.

You take a bundle with a smile.

By the time you'd showered and dressed, Sam and Bucky had disappeared off another side quest — this time grabbing Sam's Air Force dress blues from the local dry cleaner. They remarked in passing that they'd meet the four of you there, and when you brushed past Bucky's shoulder in the mudroom, the look he offered verged on apologetic. Kicked-puppy, almost.

There had been no time to talk. So, things were still hanging in the air. Things were... weird.

You try to remember that this is supposed to be fun — the temptation to fall down the cyclical thought pattern is there, but you try to breathe and remember to be present. It'll be fine. Everything is fine.

Hoisting the cardboard box a little higher, your eyes drift to the dotted lights hung across the entrance of the old building housing the local unit of the VFW. It's nothing special — but as you ascend the ramp alongside families and older veterans, the sound of Christmas music drifts to meet you.

The heat is blasting in the lobby, and you offer a cordial smile to the young woman holding the door open for you, Sarah, AJ, and Cass.

It's bustling — and through the halls of the lobby, there's a larger ballroom, no doubt used to functions like reunions and parties. The floors creak underfoot, and you follow Sarah like a lost puppy through the flow of families.

Long tables stretch across the far wall, punctuated by paper plates and plastic utensils. There's a punch bowl that looks suspiciously glittery and you offer a bitten smile to the older woman who moves to give the concoction a perfunctory taste test. The large, rectangular tins of Sarah's cooking are laid out on their own stands, and it quickly becomes your job to light the small, round containers of fire-starter.

The task is welcomed — and it gives you the chance to meet a handful of faces who are clearly familiar with the Wilsons. Vets, wives, mothers, daughters, granddaughters.

You're shaking your hand out from a close call with Sarah's lighter and trying to get another tin started when you hear a familiar voice over your shoulder.

"She put you to work, huh?"

He feels stupid.

This damn uniform is a lot. And sure, there are a handful of other guys in their dress uniforms, but Bucky's is old. His wool coat is chocolate brown, complete with a Howling Commandos patch on his shoulder and adorned with a handful of medals awarded to him posthumously. It was strange to pin them to his lapel. The jacket is belted tightly at his waist. Putting this whole thing on was like muscle memory he didn't know he still had.

And you were right. The starching is different.

He sweeps his cap off his head the moment you turn around, feeling less like Bucky and more like James.

It could have been a movie moment — picture it: you turn around in slow-motion, eyes alight, and there he is, your dashing Sergeant. It could have been perfect, with Sinatra's crooned carols floating by as the sea of people evaporates and all there is is Bucky. It could have been fluttered lashes and bitten cheeks, and Bucky would let out that stupid, huffed laugh he does while ducking his head and rocking on his shined dress shoes.

But, instead, you're so floored you proceed to freeze dumbly. The gel of the heating tin sparks, finally, and you proceed to realize ow, you're burning yourself, ow, ow ow ow—

"Ohmygod—"

"Jesus, bunny," Bucky exasperates as he throws his cap on, hopping quickly to your side to snag the tin from your hands with his vibranium hand; he quickly toss it beneath a tray, all while cradling your fingers in his other hand.

You're still staring at him. Burnt fingers be damned.

He shaved. He smells like crisp sandalwood aftershave and — cigarette smoke. It's faint, but it's clung to his jacket. You can't help but rake your eyes across him, realizing you much prefer this version of him to the one in that photo still on your bedside table at the Wilson's. He's here. Alive. Him. Not a twenty-something Bucky, but a hundred-something with all his quirks and agitations.

"You alright?" he asks, brows tightened in worry. He doesn't see the awe, just like usual.

Your voice sounds far away when you speak.

"Yea," you croak, blinking furiously to try and get your bearings because at this moment? It's all Bucky. Only Bucky. Sergeant James "Bucky" Barnes who you realize you've never seen in dress shoes before, but you've also never seen him in slacks starched and creased to regulation.

Bucky swallows.

You're still staring.

"Is it that bad?" he asks dryly after a long stretch of silence on both your ends; his face is set in a deadpan, "I told you—"

"No!" you nearly snap, quickly lowering your voice as you blink over your shoulder. Sarah seems to have handled the rest of the setup, you notice, as she slips a curious look over to you and Bucky, "No, no. You... You..."

Your heart feels like it's on fire.

And this is just proof, again, that you can't keep doing this without some sort of promise that he's not just going to leave or call it quits or... Or give up on you. This feeling is more than anything you've ever felt, and Bucky seems to notice.

Blue Christmas drones on in the background.

"You look really, really handsome, Buck."

It's all you can muster.

Bucky's eyes flicker with something like worry — and immediately, his fingers are curling in his pockets.

"You, uh... You got a sec?" he asks after a moment; his eyes haven't left yours, "To talk?"

You're nodding before you can even speak — but it doesn't matter, because Sam Wilson is here, throwing his arms around Bucky's shoulders. His own dress uniform is crisp and clean, his navy blues contrasting against Bucky's warm chocolate.

"Doesn't this shmuck clean up nice?" Sam jokes, completely unaware of the conversation he's interrupted, "I told him he oughta wear it more often, he'd look less like the long lost member of My Chemical Romance—"

"Ha, ha," Bucky deadpans, "Can you fuck off?"

"C'mon," he smacks Bucky's chest and leans to tug you into a half-hug. Your cheek smushes against Bucky's shoulder, "The three of us need drinks."

Bucky's begrudging irritation flares — he needs to talk to you, but... God damn it. There are more people here now, and... And Sam is tugging the two of you towards the open bar in the back of the banquet hall.

You relent, deciding that yea, you need a drink. A rum and coke is fine, and the grizzled-looking bartender behind the counter makes two drinks with heavy pours —

"Just a coke for me," Bucky rumbles as he leans on the counter, "Leave a lil' room at the top."

You quirk a brow.

Bucky rolls his jaw — then tugs his jacket apart to reveal the flask tucked into his inner breast pocket.

Sam claps him roughly on the shoulder again, his eyes alight. "Sly dog."

"I was not going into this dry," Bucky chirps back, shrugging Sam off as he takes his drink and turns away from the bar.

"Doll, hold this," the nickname slips out, and Bucky winces. You shoot him a look — he knows you hate it when he calls you 'doll' but... Muscle memory. Old uniform, old habits. You take his drink either way, letting him tug that flask of Asgardian mead out and unscrew the cap.

"Yeah, doll, " Sam parrots piqued interest.

"Don't," Bucky raises a finger, beating you to the punch, "call her that."

"Thank you," you sigh as he tips a generous amount of the Asgardian liquor into the bubbling cup of coke, "I hate—"

"—Only I get to call her that."

"I hate you."

"No, you don't," he responds flippantly, shrugging his flask back into his jacket as he takes the cup from you; he tips his cap back a bit, gesturing to the two of you with his drink, "Cheers."

"Cheers!" Sam laughs, and you smirk into your drink as you knock your rim against theirs.

"Cheers, you two."

The first sip is dangerous because shit — this is stronger than Sarah's peppermintinis. No wonder Sam insisted on coming to this party. An open bar with pours like that? This place should be shut down.

Sam's got the same screwed-up look on his face and you're just glad you're not the only one slightly mortified by the punch of rum. Bucky, though, wets his lips in contemplation. He seems impressed with his own little drink and tucks his vibranium hand in his pocket.

"Good turnout," he says plainly as he looks over the busy banquet hall.

You're still trying not to gag from your drink. "When are you sitting on Santa's lap again?"

The super soldier slides you a glare. "Don't start—"

"107th, huh?" comes a warbled voice from behind Bucky, and then a wrinkled and papery hand drifts to swat the brunette's shoulder; Bucky's lips jump into a smirk, and immediately he's locked in a strong handshake with an older man who must be in his late 90s.

...It's good to see Bucky like this. He's in his element, whether or not he wants to admit it. He gets along with these guys — better than most folks. He can relate. Maybe not to have a wife, or kids, or grandchildren, or great-grandchildren, but war is the tie that binds.

The man is whisking — as best as you can whisk with a cane and a hand on Bucky's arm — him away to a table full of Army vets, all well in their older years. You smile, sip your drink, and lean against Sam's shoulder.

The new Captain America tugs you into a half-hug.

Then, his voice is low.

"...He talked to you yet?"

You huff out a laugh — disbelief painting your words. "He was gonna, then you bombed in insisting on drinks. Which, by the way? This is the strongest thing I've ever had."

"Shit," Sam mutters under his breath, "I'm sorry, Rabbit—"

"It's alright," you pat his back and sip your drink, "He... Did he talk to you?"

"Why do you think we were out half the morning?" Sam huffs as the two of you watch him move around the table shaking hands, "Needed to run him like a dog — he wouldn't shut up about he's gonna fuck this up."

You raise both brows and serve Sam a look. "What could he possibly fuck up?"

"The whole... thing, I guess. You know how he is. He's got that broken-man-complex-thing — I told him it doesn't matter," Sam sips his drink and you sigh in agreeance.

"If that mattered, wouldn't I have stopped seeing him months ago?"

Sam blinks.

"Wait," he blinks, " Stopped seeing him?"

You lean back and confusedly eye Sam.

"...Yes?"

"Meaning," the man's face is set in utter disbelief, "You are seeing him?"

"...Oh my god, did you — did you seriously not—"

"No, I didn't know!" Sam cries, stepping back and bending at the knees as he throws his head back, "Are you serious? Since when?"

"Since before Madripoor," you fire off, blinking rapidly, "You always joked, I thought you knew—"

"I thought — oh my god — I thought the sexual tension was just there! "

"It was! Because we were sexually tense!" you whisper-yell, smacking his hands down from his dramatic show of exasperation, "I cannot believe you didn't know—"

"I can't believe this bastard has been gettin' the milk without buyin' the cow — It's been two years? "

"Alright," you bite, giving Sam a look that says ' please never say that again' , "In all fairness, I've also been getting the milk—"

"Alright!" Sam mimics your tone of finality, the look in his eyes begging you never to say that again, "So? What now?"

You cast a look over your shoulder at Bucky as he laughs at something one of the old Veterans says.

"I guess Buck and I talk."

Sam lets out a long sigh.

"Cheers to that."

This is a nightmare.

Is this bartending crew out to kill everyone here?

Thank god the kids are busy with ornament decorating, toy swaps, and Santa photo-ops.

The back of the banquet hall has dissolved into the sort of chaos only a bunch of old soldiers plied with liquor could create. Sam's on his third drink, tossed . Bucky is no better — he's squinting at a hand of cards, muttering something to himself as a guy from the 101st Airborne heckles him.

He folds with a buzzed scoff as you near with a plate of food. You're chewing, intent on seeing what all the noise is about as the table croons at the new loser: James Buchanan Barnes.

"Aw, did someone lose his wager?" you chirp as Bucky begrudgingly wrestles out his wallet and tossing a ten-dollar bill on the table.

"What else is new?" Bucky murmurs before standing. He sways a little, and you can tell from the ghost of heat across his cheeks that his flask is most likely empty by now.

He takes your fork from your hands, shoveling a bite of pie into his mouth. You laugh a little, handing over the entire plate to him.

"You keepin' your girl away from us, Barnes?" comes a call from the table — it's from a man in a Korea war veteran hat, "Not even gonna introduce us?"

Bucky's mouth is full when he points an accusatory hand at the man. "You've taken my cash, you're not takin' my girl—"

More laughter, and you just roll your eyes. " Your girl, huh?"

Bucky swallows and his Adam's apple bobs. His eyes roam across your face as he tries to sort out how you're feeling — and he decides then and there that it's time to talk. He's got enough liquid courage and a half-pack of won cigarettes in his pocket.

"Wanna take a walk?" he murmurs between another bite of pie.

"About time you asked, Sergeant."

The paper plate is promptly dumped into the nearest trash can.

The back entrance of the VFW is quiet. The music from inside drifts through the open doors, and as you shrug on your jacket, you note Bucky's fingers tugging a crumpled pack of Marlboros from his uniform slacks.

He won it in cards.

A smirk quirks your lips.

"You've gotta be kidding," you scoff.

"I've been itching for one," he laments as he drops the unlit cigarette between his lips and leans back against the slate brick of the back wall, "Since yesterday."

"Need a light, soldier?" you joke, trying your best Lauren Bacall-esque, trans-Atlantic accent. In your pocket is the lighter you used earlier — it's Sarah's.

"Be a doll , would you?" he croons back, the rare lightness of humor passing through his words as he ignores your pointed roll of eyes; Bucky slips the lighter from your offered hand, and with three flicks of the flint, strikes up the cigarette.

Now he really looks the part of the dashing Sergeant.

You cross your arms and lean back against the wall beside him as you watch him.

Bucky's eyes meet yours.

For a long moment, it's quiet comfort. He exhales a curl of smoke, the Marlboro perched between his fingers.

Then:

"This is fuckin' horrific."

The cough that follows is dry and brutal, and you can't help but laugh out loud as Bucky flicks the cigarette beneath his dress shoe and stomps it out. He coughs again, into his jacket, and spits onto the pavement — his face is knitted in revulsion.

You're laughing, really laughing, and Bucky swipes at his mouth with the back of his palm.

"What the hell—"

"Not like how you remember?" you chortle.

"This must be real funny for you," he rumbles out, swallowing back a wince of disgust, "Isn't it?"

"Almost like it's payback," you sidle up close, tilting your head, "For dropping the whole 'we need to talk' bombshell and then not talking to me—"

"Third time's the charm," he juts his jaw out, taking a step closer, "We're talking now, aren't we?"

"Not yet," you pry, standing toe-to-toe with him. You can see the anxiety radiating off him — and for once, you realize, it's not you saddled with the nervousness that burns through your rationality.

Bucky reaches out, his hand slipping along your cheek, "I'm not good at talking."

"I know," you mutter, turning your cheek and speaking into the warm flesh of his palm, "But all this tiptoeing is making me anxious—"

"I love you."

...Oh.

It just — it just comes out. It spills out before Bucky can catch it; not like he wants to catch it, though. He's been wanting to say it.

In the mornings, when you press your cold nose between his shoulders and murmur his name? He wants to say it. Over coffee that you make just for him? He wants to say it. When you lay your head on his lap and talk nonsense about books and movies and music? He wants to say it. After every single kiss, he needs to say it.

Your mouth is moving but no sound is coming out.

Then, like a damn bursting:

" Bucky—"

"I love you," he cuts you off again, leaning in to grasp your face and hold it tightly; his expression is deadly serious, "I love you, and you need to know that I—"

"Buck—"

"—I've loved you since Innessa, since Madripoor, since... Since Walker and the Shield and you've been by my side through the worst—"

" James."

Bucky blinks.

You're laughing.

You're laughing, and your hands are cradling his own against your face. Bucky's mouth snaps shut, his breath caught in his throat. You pull his hands down and wind your fingers through his.

"I love you, too."

His voice sounds far away.

"...I'm not easy to love, Rabbit."

"I know," you breathe; his eyes never leave yours, "Hasn't stopped me so far, though."

"Maybe it should," he whispers, glancing down at your fingers, "It'd be easier if you didn't."

"Maybe," you mutter back, breaking from his held hands to reach up and hold his face, "But, I don't really care, Sergeant Barnes."

And you kiss him.

Slowly, softly, and like a promise, you kiss him. There's a hesitancy that dies the moment you slip your eyes shut and Bucky knows you're being honest. You don't care. You want this — you want him, you've wanted him, you've stayed. You always stay. You're his foundation, his rock, his everything. He sweeps his cap off his head and wraps his arms tightly around your waist. There's no intention of ending this moment for anything, not even—

"Barnes! Santa's waiting on you for a photo!"

—Not even that. All Bucky does is offer Sam and Sarah Wilson a vibranium middle finger as he dips you a bit lower, the kiss unbroken.

Because this is important . It's about you two.