#she just wants him to be comfortable being around them.

[savi0rr]

more vik w wife scenarios plsss 🙏🙏

Loving Wife .ᐟ

Viktor x Wife! Fem! Reader

In which, Viktor makes it a point to visit his loving wife. Even if it means that he's being followed.

a/n: you better like this or else anon.

— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —

— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —

Viktor's crutch echoed softly against the cobblestones of the quiet streets of Piltover, the rhythmic sound a stark contrast to the stillness of the midnight hour. Typically, this time would find him immersed in the dimly-lit confines of the lab at the Academia, conducting experiments or poring over complex algorithms. Yet tonight, an inexplicable urge pulled him towards home—towards you. He let out a weary sigh as he fumbled with the keys, his fingers trembling slightly as he unlocked the front door of your townhouse. Stepping inside, he was greeted by a rush of familiar warmth and the comforting scents that reminded him of you.

Just outside, hidden in the shadows, Jayce peered cautiously around a street corner. “Damn it… where did he go?” he whispered, his voice barely above a breath. A step behind him, Mel huffed in frustration, her keen eyes scanning the dimly illuminated area for any sign of Viktor. It was then she spotted him standing at your doorstep. Without thinking, she swiftly covered Jayce's mouth with her hand. “Will you keep it down?” she muttered, her voice terse and low as she narrowed her eyes at him. “I think it's his wife's house,” Jayce replied in a hushed tone, inching closer and using the shadows to conceal his movements. Mel rolled her eyes, a mixture of irritation and curiosity, and followed him in silence.

Inside the townhouse, Viktor stepped into the darkened entrance, closing the door quietly behind him and letting out a relieved sigh. Though the Academia provided him with certain comforts—his own room, the latest equipment, and the thrill of innovation—tonight his heart tugged him toward the simplicity of being home with you. The very thought of you had a magnetic pull that often made him reconsider the sacrifices he made for his work. A part of him wanted to unite his personal and professional lives, but he feared that the mere presence of your warmth would distract him from his endeavors.

He moved through the familiar hallway, each step sending a comforting wave of nostalgia through him. As he pushed open the bedroom door, he was greeted by the sight of your sleeping figure, illuminated by the soft glow of the moonlight filtering through the curtains. His heart softened at the sight, a warmth blossoming in his chest. He knew it was unwise to show up unannounced, that you preferred predictability, yet the very idea of being scolded in the morning felt trivial in comparison to the joy of simply being close to you. Losing himself in the moment, he placed his crutch aside near the bed and crawled carefully into the sheets beside you, making sure not to disturb your slumber.

Meanwhile, just outside the window, Jayce and Mel crouched low, their eyes straining against the darkness as they tried to glimpse what was unfolding inside. With a huff of annoyance, Mel pulled away from the window, crossing her arms over her chest in disbelief. “I can’t believe we’re stalking them,” she sighed, shaking her head in exasperation. “I just wanted to confirm what I saw!” Jayce shot back, glancing quickly at Mel. He tilted his head slightly, his curiosity piqued. “Besides, you were the one who insisted we investigate this.” With a reluctant sigh, Mel shook her head, still feeling the stirrings of frustration. “Let’s just head back to the Academia,” she suggested a note of defeat evident in her voice.

Back in the safety of your bedroom, Viktor lay on his back, careful not to disturb you, but unable to take his eyes off your peaceful form. The gentle rise and fall of your chest soothed him, and yet, he held back, overcome by a rush of emotions that twisted within him. Just as he began to relax, you stirred, the softness of your voice breaking the stillness. “Viktor? Dear?” Your sleepy tone wrapped around him like a warm blanket. He felt a spark of anxiety as he realized you had awakened, instinctively bracing for any discontent you might express. 

Rubbing your eyes, you slowly turned to face him, a smile spreading across your face as recognition dawned. “Ah—I’m sorry, did I wake you?” Viktor asked quietly, turning his head towards you, his voice barely above a whisper. You merely shook your head, still feeling the remnants of sleep. “No, I could feel you a mile away,” you muttered playfully, shrugging as you inched closer to him, your movements slow and relaxed. Viktor stayed silent, his heart racing as he savored the proximity, feeling an urge to reach out, yet hesitant to do so.

“I just… needed to see you,” he confessed, allowing vulnerability to seep into his voice. It wasn’t that he saw himself as clingy, but when he spent too much time away, he felt a palpable emptiness in his chest that only your presence could fill. A soft giggle escaped your lips, lightening the mood as you shook your head in a teasing manner. “You’re welcome here anytime,” you murmured sweetly, your fingers tracing along his arm in a tender gesture. “You are my husband, no?” The teasing lilt in your tone sent a shiver down his spine as you leaned in closer, your breath warm against his skin. 

Viktor flinched slightly at your sudden touch, a mix of surprise and delight fluttering within him. “I suppose I am,” he grumbled good-naturedly, unable to suppress a smile as he shook his head, surrendering himself to the moment.

— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —

Back at the Academia, amidst the clutter of Viktor’s lab, Jayce and Mel continued their search. Papers were scattered across the desk, papers and blueprints littered carelessly. “What exactly are we searching for?” Mel asked, glancing at the array of items surrounding them, her brow furrowing in confusion. “Something that proves he does have a wife,” Jayce replied resolutely, rummaging through drawers with purpose. Mel rolled her eyes at the absurdity of the situation.

[no-144444]

fulfilled- m.verstappen

summary: max reflects on his life.

pairing: dad! max verstappen x fem! wife! mom! reader

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

The soft light of the rising sun peeked its way under the blinds of your shared bedroom as Max stirred awake. He yawned, knowing he could stay in bed a little longer, but also knowing that any moment, 2 toddlers would run in and wake the two of you up, and you deserved a bit more sleep. He quietly left your room to find his two sons, just outside the door, ready to pounce. They jumped on their father, wishing him a good morning as he chuckled, picking the both of them up. 

“Can we have pancakes for breakfast dad?” Arthur asked, pulling on his t-shirt. 

“No! We should have waffles!” Quinn argued. Those two were twins, but couldn’t be more opposite. Arthur was the quiet, polite, kind child, whereas Quinn was the crazy, funny, sweetheart. 

“What about both?” he offered, and they both nodded, a multitude of ‘thank you��s’ on their lips. 

As they walked to the kitchen and Max placed them down on the counter, giving them clear instructions to measure out the dry ingredients, Layla walked out from her room. 

“Dad!” she cheered, hugging his legs. Layla was 8. The boys were 6. Max couldn’t believe his life. He’d left F1 8 whole years ago, and he couldn’t have made a better decision. He adored being around all the time for the kids. He loved walking them to school, planning playdates with his dad friends, teaching them all about life through his lens. Honestly, he’d been terrified when he found out you were pregnant the first time. You two had been married for 2 years, but you hadn’t spoken about when you wanted to have kids. When you came to him with 3 positive pregnancy tests, teary eyes, and a growing fear, he had no other choice than to step up and comfort you. In those moments, he found himself telling you that he was scared too, but you two would do it together. The next few months had been hard. The 2024 season had been hard in general. Finding out you were pregnant halfway through was harder. As the months went on and he quit F1, he felt himself becoming increasingly nervous. He was scared. What if he would be just like his father? What if he didn’t know what to do? What would happen then? What if you left him because he couldn’t do it?

But you made all of those thoughts go away, promising him that he would be brilliant, that he was the most caring person you knew, and that the way you already loved your child was a testament to that. He’d given up his racing career to be there, he had to realise how big of a sacrifice that was, right? 

Now here he was, making his children waffles and pancakes on a Saturday morning while his wife lay in bed, getting some more rest. 

And he was happy. He was fulfilled. 

He smiled as the twins bickered over a measurement, and Layla was busy sitting on the counter explaining the newest drama of her friend group. 

When he was younger, he really questioned what he was meant to be. As much as he was an exceptional racer, he’d never felt truly satisfied, whereas he knew others who were satisfied after they won their first title. 

It all clicked the day Layla was born. He wasn’t meant to be a racer. He was meant to be a dad.

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

[soapssuds]

Sunday joins the Astral Express, and Dan Heng gets easily jealous of how close you two are.

fem!reader

Dan Heng furrowed his brow as he watched you grab onto Sunday’s hand and tug him behind you, “come on! I’ll give you a tour!”

He was only brought out of his thoughts when he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“I wouldn’t worry too much, she is just being nice to him.”

“Must she act so familiar with him though,” he fired back without even looking at Himeko who tried to comfort him the best she could.

Sighing a little, Himeko kept her small smile, “y/n probably just doesn’t want Sunday to feel alone. Before you and the others joined the Astral Express it was just her, Welt and me taking care of the Stellarons and trailblazing our own path. And she… was… always so distant. Broken almost. But then she met you and March and then Stelle joined too. And she finally started to smile again.”

Dan Heng fully turned towards Himeko then.

“All I’m saying,” she said continuing, “is that she just doesn’t want to isolate Sunday despite what has happened between all of us in Penacony.”

“And of course this is the main train car! We mainly gather up here when we’re about to warp.”

Dan Heng looked back to where you were his eyes once again training on how your hand held onto Sunday’s…, or was Sunday holding onto you. He huffed. He new is was petty, but he couldn’t stop feeling that jealousy well up inside of him as you continued to pull Sunday around.

“Hey, Dan Heng! Why so frowny?”

When you spotted him, you had immediately trotted over to him, Sunday in tow.

“I’m not frowny,” he said even as he didn’t do much to try to change his soured expression.

“Could have fooled me,” you tried to joke.

Sunday, all the while, was watching you both carefully. The weight of your palm in his hand becoming increasingly apparent as the pieces started to fall into place. You… were a bit oblivious, but he didn’t mind that. Dan Heng did though.

Well, whatever. Sunday was used to fighting for his place. So if he had to fight for your hand too, then so be it.

“Oh! Are we leaving now,” you said excitedly when PomPom’s voice broke out over the intercom to let everyone know they should prepare to warp.

Everyone else was already getting ready as you grabbed Dan Heng’s hand with your free one, “let’s all sit together!”

And even as you tugged them both along, their eyes caught one another instead. A silent rivalry formed instantaneously.

[luveline]

Hii!! I’ve been binging your fics all week so I wanted to make a request of my own!! 🫶

I was thinking Hotch (and Jack, obviously) with a reader who’s been his long time girlfriend, the constantly stay over at each others houses type. Reader has a cat, one that sleeps with her every night, and Aaron just dealing with that 😭 and maybe a little bit of Jack with a kitty 🩷 thanks !!

Ty for requesting!! fem

“Are you sure it’s okay?” 

Hotch pulls you in through the front door. He doesn’t roll his eyes, but he could. “As sure as I was the first ten times you asked.” 

“I hear the ire in your voice. Don’t be mean.” 

What better time is there to suffocate you in affection than after a damning accusation such as that? Hotch smiles into a kiss, letting his fingers run down your arm to the handle of the carrier. From inside echoes a soft meow. 

“I think she’s upset,” you say. 

“About being moved?” 

“About her beau she sees in the window sometimes. Brokenhearted.” 

He lifts the carrier and you open the door. You make soft kissy sounds until your cat, lovely miss Goldie, deigns to crawl toward your hands. You scoop her out of the carrier and kiss her shiny fur, hand instinctively running down her back. Goldie is a big girl, full grown, with a cuddly disposition. She doesn’t like to play or fight, but she’s adventurous. Hotch is sure she’ll have fun exploring the apartment again. 

“Where’s Jack?” you ask over Goldie’s head. 

“Somewhere. I think he’s reading.” 

You give Goldie a pet, turning her to see Hotch, who finds himself quite fond of the creature despite previous inclinations. “Hello, Miss Goldie,” he says, thumbing at the place between her eyes carefully, 

She mews. 

“She missed you.” You kiss his cheek, giving him all sorts of thoughts about missing you, your perfume, and your skin. 

You put Goldie down and let her explore. You’ve brought a travel litter tray and a few things for breakfast, setting the tray up in the smaller of the bathrooms while Hotch makes his way to Jack’s room. 

Jack’s sitting in a beanbag playing on his DS, eyebrows furrowed but wearing a smirk his dad so rarely sees. 

“Your best friend is here,” Hotch teases from the doorway. “And she’s brought someone with her.” 

Jack’s jaw drops. “She brought the cat?”

“Yes, and she’s looking for you, I’d wager.”

Jack snaps his game console closed and clambers onto his feet. Hotch catches him before he can race down the stairs, murmuring fatherly chastisement and ruffling his hair as Jack thunders down them anyhow. “You’ll scare the poor cat,” Hotch says, and only then does Jack chill out. 

“Y/N?” Jack says, edging into the living room. 

You’ve made yourself comfortable on the couch, laying half-curled with a predictable Goldie purring on the cushion behind your head. “Hi, bud! You’re not that excited to see me, I know.” 

“Can I pet her?” he asks. 

“Sure. Just do the kissy noises and she’ll come right to you. Hey, did you miss me at all? I missed you.” 

“Of course I missed you, Y/N,” Jack says, kneeling in front of you and patting the cushion next to your legs as he attempts to smack his lips together. “Hiii, Goldie.” 

Her fur is quite rare, in Hotch’s uneducated opinion. She’s a British shorthair if he recalls correctly, somewhere between white and blonde. I found her in the street, you’d said, third date, lipstick on his cheek from a few tipsy kisses, all covered in fleas and tics, who could ever do that? Can you believe it?

Goldie slinks down to bump her face against Jack’s hand. “Lean in and she’ll give you a kiss,” you whisper. 

Jack leans forward. Goldie follows him slowly, sniffing, whiskers twitching, before pressing her nose and jowls to his nose gently. Jack’s laugh is younger than his years, he’s that happy. 

Goldie jumps down off of the couch to walk a circle around Jack, nudging his arms with her nose. She wants to be picked up and held, but Jack doesn’t know that yet. She does it to you constantly when Hotch is over, not jealous, just demanding. And at night when you sleep and Hotch is trying to cuddle you, she either decides that she’s the one that’s going to be in your arms tonight, or that the only place she could ever sleep is on top of Hotch’s head. 

It’s much the same in the evening. Hotch sits next to you on the couch in an attempt to rub the tiredness out of your back, and Goldie, still unheld, moises over to nose at your legs with her little wet nose. 

“Come here, darling,” you croon, while Hotch restrains your arms. 

“You love the cat more than me.” 

“Only most of the time, Aaron,” you say, reaching under his hugging to try and pick her up. 

“Leave her for a minute, Jack’s playing with her.” 

Jack, as lovely as he is, had abandoned everyone to play on his DS again, evidenced by the sounds of kart racing echoing from his room. “She gets lonely,” you whine. 

“So do I.” 

You sigh and cup the back of his head. “You’re as clingy as she is, too.” 

He feels an insistent pressing against his knee, though he ignores it in favour of your face, turning you toward him for a kiss, desperate to lay a proper one on you after an hour without one, but then a little mew comes and you pat his cheek. 

“Come on, honey, my old girl wants in on the hugs.” 

You put Goldie in the crease between your thigh and his. She purrs with delight. He watches you smile at her, knowing that the nuisance of your big heart is a part of why he loves you. Doesn’t make going without your kisses any easier.

[queen-of-the-avengers]

Harsh Reality

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~3.8k

Warnings: minor angst, being cheated on (not by bucky), fluff

Summary: You come home to surprise your boyfriend only to end up catching him with another woman in bed. Now, you have to live somewhere else. You try to move on with your new roommates but it proves to be difficult when you were never really good at the dating part of your relationships.

Square Filled: safe house (2023) for @buckybarnesbingo

One in a Million Series

Author’s Note: a while back, i announced i wanted to make a series based on the show New Girl, and i didn't want to wait around to write it. i won't be doing every episode in the seasons, and i won't be doing it word for word like i do for my rewrite. enjoy!

x

Your plane lands earlier than expected and the first thing you want to do is surprise your boyfriend, Jack. You left to go to a teacher’s conference in New York and have been gone for an entire week. That’s not much but it is when you consider you and Jack haven’t been apart for more than a couple of days out of the six years you’ve been with him.

You left your car with him since he didn’t have one so you took a taxi back to your apartment. You’re bouncing with giddiness and slight anxiety because you’re doing something you’ve never done before.

For those who know you, you’re not very good with the whole sexy seducing thing. Jack makes it easy for you. He takes care of everything and that includes you. Still, doing something out of your comfort zone is nerve-racking as it is exciting. Your best friend, Natasha, is on the phone while you’re in the back of the taxi wearing nothing but a brown trench coat.

“Why am I so nervous? This is a good thing, right? I mean, this is for Jack.”

“You’re not used to doing something like this but trust me, he’s going to love it.”

“Yeah, I’m just going to walk in and drop my coat on the ground. He says he had this fantasy that I'm a stripper with a heart of gold, and he's helping me put myself through college.”

“He didn't say the college part, did he?”

“Um, no, I wanted to create a three-dimensional sex character.”

“Really? What's your stripper name?”

You look at the driver who briefly looks at you. “Rebecca Johnson?”

“Your stripper name is Rebecca Johnson?” Natasha asks.

You can practically hear her bitch face.

“Boobies Johnson,” you quickly correct. “Two-boobs Johnson.”

“Look at you, in the back of a cab, totally naked. I am so proud of you.”

The driver pulls up to the house that you share with Jack. “I gotta go. I’m here.”

“Good luck, Two-boobs Johnson,” she chuckles.

You pay the taxi driver as you get out and walk inside your home. It’s quiet so maybe Jack is still sleeping. He’s known for sleeping in late. He doesn’t have a job because he got laid off two months ago, but he’s been doing odd jobs to keep the money coming in. That plus your teacher’s salary is enough to get by. You walk to the closed bedroom door and open it with a smile, however, that smile is lost when you come face-to-face with Jack.

He’s not sleeping. No, he’s fucking another woman. Both of them look at you with wide eyes, and Jack pushes his mistress off him as if she means nothing to him.

“Y/N! You’re home early.”

“I wanted to surprise you.”

“It’s not what you think.”

“I gotta go,” you whisper.

You quickly turn and run out of the house, forgoing the fact that you’re practically naked. Jack calls after you but you don’t stick around to hear what kind of lame excuse he has for you. The taxi is long gone and you don’t have the heart to call for another one, probably because your hands are shaking so much. How can he do this to you? You’ve been together for six long years.

You thought he was the one.

Natasha lives on the other side of town but you make it there sooner than you thought you would for someone who was running. She has a nice apartment overlooking the city. It was out of her price range but because she is so good with selling herself, she talked the landlord down to a price she was able to afford. She’s one of the best real estate agents this city has ever seen, so the landlord didn’t have a problem with lowering the price for her.

You knock twice on her door and she opens it with a frown.

“What happened?”

“He cheated on me,” you whisper. “I caught him with a woman in his bed.”

“Oh, babe. I’m so sorry. Come in.” She wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulls you into her place. “I’ve never liked him.”

“Yeah, well…”

“Listen to me. I know how you are. Don’t blame yourself for this.”

“Why did he do that? Am I not attractive enough? Sexy enough? Is it my singing?”

“No, it’s not your singing,” she sighs. “Men are pigs and Jack’s true colors came through. This is all on him.”

“I wondered why he wasn’t taking my calls. I just figured he was working.”

Natasha sighs and rubs your back in comfort.

“You don’t need him, Y/N. Listen, you can stay with me until you find something else, okay?”

“No, I don’t want to impose.”

“I’m serious. It’s okay. I have the spare bedroom you can use.”

Despite her offer, you don’t want to worm your way into her life. She’s active on dating sites which means she brings home guys left and right. She lives alone and you remember what it was like to have someone invade your space like this. It’s why that night, you go online to see if there is anyone who is looking for roommates.

You shouldn’t go on sites like Craiglist when it comes to living somewhere, but you don’t make a lot of money as a teacher. If you were to go through an agency or even on Facebook, you wouldn’t find something cheap. You scroll through the obvious trolls until you get to one ad for an apartment downtown.

Four bedrooms. Open floor plan. It’s a loft of sorts. There are three women there looking for a fourth, and you think this is what you need to make a new start. You’re afraid if you slow down, you’ll be forced to think about your ruined relationship with Jack. You’ve never been cheated on so the betrayal hurts that much more. You gave him six years of your life and now…

What are you going to do?

Before you can talk yourself out of it, you respond to the ad that you’re interested and go to bed.

Tomorrow morning, you wake up to seven missed phone calls from Jack and over twenty messages, but you ignore them and get ready. Natasha is eating breakfast in the kitchen already dressed to show a house.

“Have a house to sell?”

“Yeah. I’ll be gone most of the day.”

“I might have found an apartment.”

“What?”

“I saw an ad on Craigslist. I know it’s not ideal, but I’m going over to them right now. It’s three women looking for a fourth roommate for their loft.” You see the look on Natasha’s face and sigh. “I need something to do Nat, otherwise all I’ll do is cry.”

“Okay. Call me if you need me.”

“I will,” you smile.

You get dressed and head over to the apartment downtown. You knock on their door and freeze when a man with a metal arm opens the door. Two men, one blonde and one muscular, stand behind him, and you look confused when you don’t see any women.

“Are you Y/N?” the man at the door asks.

“Yeah. I’m here for the apartment listing if you’ll still have me.”

“Nonsense. Come in,” the blonde one smiles.

You walk in and look at the loft, already liking what you see. You don’t care that you assumed it was women and they’re men, you just need a new place to live. As much as you love Natasha, that’s her space and you don’t want to intrude. Plus, you don’t want to feel like a charity.

“My name is Y/N, but you already know that from the ad,” you say nervously.

“I’m Steve and this is Thor and that is Bucky.”

“Cool metal arm you have. I’ve never seen that before.”

“Thanks,” he mutters.

When you get nervous, you get chatty, and these three men make you hella nervous. It’s not that they’re intimidating or mean, but you’ve never lived with three guys at once. The only man you’ve ever lived with was Jack, and even sometimes that was too much. So, you start by telling them more than what they want to know.

“So, you know in horror movies when the girls are like, ‘Oh my God, there's something in the basement. Let me just run down there in my underwear and see what's going on in the dark.’ and you're like, ‘What is your problem? Call the police.’ and she's like ‘Okay’ but it's too late because she's already getting murdered? Well, my story's kind of like that.” You tell them everything from Jack cheating on you to not wanting to live with your best friend and invading her privacy. “So, that happened. That's why I need a new apartment. I'm sorry, what was the question again?”

“Do you have any pets?” Bucky asks.

“No, I don’t,” you chuckle and stand up. “This place is beautiful. It gets so much light. Jack hated light. It's hard to say his name.”

“It's okay. Bucky knows. He got dumped,” Steve says.

“Dude,” Bcuky hisses.

The place doesn’t look fancy but it’s new and it can be the start of a new chapter if they let you.

“You know what, I want to live here,” you grin.

“Actually, I still have some questions,” Bucky says. “No offense, but we barely know ya.”

“Yeah, okay. Full disclosure, I'm kind of emotional right now because of the breakup so I'll probably be watching Dirty Dancing at least six or seven times... a day.” Thor shakes his head but doesn’t say anything to that. “Um, I'm a teacher so I bring home a lot of popsicle sticks and arts and crafts. Also, I like to sing to myself… a lot.” You start to sing. “A lot.” You sigh. “I don’t want to live with my friend. I hate feeling like a charity case even though she doesn't mean to treat me that way.”

“If you’ll excuse us, we’re going to talk in private,” Steve says.

All three men go into the bathroom while you take the opportunity to look around.

“I think it’d be good to have a woman in here,” Steve says. “It’s good to have a woman’s touch in here.”

“No, all she’s going to do is disrupt our vibe,” Thor argues.

“Bucky? What do you think?”

“Well, I’ve lived with a woman before so I know there are pros and real cons. For one, they smell good but their girly shit will start to be everywhere. Um, they’re good at folding.”

“Okay, we’re not going to come to a conclusion but I’ll take Bucky’s indecisive for a yes. She’s in!”

“Yay, I’m in!” you say from outside the door. Steve chuckles and opens the bathroom door, and you smile at all three men. “You won’t regret this.”

Natasha was weary about you moving into a place with three strange men but you need this. It didn’t take long for you to move in since you didn’t take much from your old place, so the reality of your situation comes crashing down around you the second you get a bit of breathing room. Dirty Dancing plays on the TV for the third time, and you’re lying on the couch surrounded by used tissues and a few of your boxes. Natasha must have called your mom because she immediately called you, worried about living with three strange men.

“I’m fine, mom. You don’t need to worry about me.”

“Baby, you and Jack broke up. Of course, I’m going to worry about you. You’re not watching Dirty Dancing, are you?”

“No, I’m not watching Dirty Dancing,” you mutter.

“Did you make sure those men aren’t murderers? You know how badly I stress Stranger Danger. You’re my baby, Y/N.”

Just then, Bucky walks into the room.

“Hey, are you gonna murder me 'cause you're a stranger I met on the internet?”

“Yes, I am,” he says without looking at you.

“He says no,” you say to your mom. Thor and Steve walk in, having just come from the gym. “I gotta go, mom. I love you.”

“So, the biggest party of the year is on Saturday. I'm trying to get us in but you may need to call Sharon,” Steve says to Bucky.

“I’m not calling Sharon.”

“Hear me out, Buck.”

Before Bucky can say anything, you sob as another wave of depression hits you. All three men look at you and huddle around each other, not sure how to handle this. They haven’t lived with a woman in years, and Bucky slaps his hand on Steve’s chest.

“You did this. You wanted her in. You fix it.”

“Okay, I got it.” Steve walks over to you and sits on the edge of the couch. “Hey, Y/N. Are you doing alright?”

“I’m fine,” you sniffle.

“Why don’t we turn off the movie, okay?” Steve takes the remote from you and turns off the movie. “Come on, sit up.” You do and he smiles kindly at you. “See? Doesn’t that feel a bit better?”

“Not really.”

“Look, I was cheated on before. It wasn’t fun. In fact, it felt a bit shitty. I don’t know you that well but I know you didn’t deserve it. Look, there’s this party on Saturday, and you need to get your mind off your ex. It’ll be fun. You’ll go out, meet some people, have a few drinks, and forget all about him. Sounds good?”

“Yeah, I guess that doesn’t sound so bad.”

“Good,” he smiles. “Now, why don’t you get dressed? Bucky works at a bar. We’ll go out for a few drinks and maybe get you a rebound.”

“Okay,” you whisper.

You get off the couch and trudge to the bathroom to shower.

“This is all hinging on actually getting into the party,” Thor says.

“Buck, come on. You don’t even have to see her. Just call her and ask her to get us on the list.” 

Bucky walks into the bathroom just to get away from Steve but the latter follows him in.

“There’s someone in here,” you say when you hear them entering the bathroom.

“We're leaving in ten minutes, did you shave your legs?” Steve asks.

“I will now.”

“Front and backs?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you.” Steve looks at Bucky. “Just call Sharon. You call her all the time when you're drunk.”

“No, I don’t. Shut up.”

You shave your legs and finish with the rest of your shower. Luckily, the boys have taken their conversation outside of the bathroom. You wonder what the deal is with Bucky and Sharon. How did things end? Based on his refusal to call her, you assume it ended badly. Will you be like this with Jack?

Like Steve said, you all leave ten minutes later to the bar Bucky works at. Bars aren’t usually your scene but you really want this to be a fresh start. You haven’t flirted with or been on a date with someone in six years. Everything was reserved for Jack. You’re not even sure if you have it in you to find a rebound. If you can’t be sexy well, how can you expect to capture a stranger’s attention?

All it takes is one bad experience to ruin potential future ones. Bucky, Steve, and Thor watch you try to flirt with men but each one fails. You’re either too weird, too loud, sing too much, or too awkward. After about six tries, you sit at the bar with a defeated look. Bucky walks over to you and slides you a pink wine, your poison of choice.

“Well, I guess I can't hide my crazy,” you sigh.

“I don't think you're trying that hard.”

“I've never been great at this stuff, so…” You look up and muster a smile. “Looks at us, a couple of losers. We both got dumped, jeesh.”

“I’m fine,” he says. “It was six months ago.”

“Do you know why she dumped you? I mean she must've hurt you pretty bad.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he sighs.

“Aren’t you always wondering, like, what it was? Like, was there something you could have done differently?” He shales his head wordlessly. “Do you know what happens to people who keep it all inside? They get old and they get sad and they get weird and then you're the old man yelling at the kids who are running across your yard and you're telling them, 'Don't run across my yard. My life's full of regret'. You can't just pretend like it didn't happen.”

“Or I could pretend to be more like you, Y/N, and live on a sparkly rainbow and drive a unicorn around and just sing all the time.”

“Yeah, I think you should sing all the time,” you giggle.

“No, I was being mean, I'm not gonna do that, Y/N.”

“Why not? It’s fun!”

“Because I have a dick, Y/N.”

“I’ll get you to sing one of these days,” you chuckle.

One of Steve’s friends comes up to the bar and smiles flirtatiously at you, and Bucky backs up to give you some space. He watches you smile at the man, and he looks down in thought. If you can try and move on, he can, too. He takes out his phone and dials Sharon’s number before walking away to take the call.

“So, I was going to go to the party this Saturday, but I’d rather take you out if you’re interested,” he says.

“Yeah, I’d like that,” you smile.

“Great. Maybe we can go to dinner first.”

“Sure. Let me put my number in your phone.” The man hands over his phone, you put your number in, and you call yourself so you have his number. “I’ll text you, okay?”

“Sounds good,” he smirks and winks. “I’m Peter, by the way.”

“Y/N,” you smile.

Looks like you scored a date and you weren't weird at all. The high of getting a date wears off an hour before you have to leave for it. You’re stuck in your room, wondering what to wear. What would be sexy enough? Should you be sexy? Cute? Casual?

God, what am I doing?

Natasha comes over to help as soon as you text her, and all three of your roommates are shocked into silence, more so Steve than the others. She’s beautiful and has guys hanging off her arm. She’s well known, her picture is on billboards across the city. She’s not shy about her appearance, and this is one of those times. Thor and Bucky look at each other when they notice Steve staring with a smile on his face.

“Natasha. Do you go by Nat?”

“Only to my friends.”

“Cool,” he nods. “I’m Steve.”

“Y/N, do you need my help?” she calls out.

There is a thump followed by a yelp. “I’m okay.” She gets up and walks to your bedroom to see you lying on the ground like a starfish. “I tripped on my heels.”

“Okay, sit up.”

You sigh and do as you’re told. “What am I doing? I can't go on a date. What if it's horrible? What if I have nothing to talk about?”

“Then you go to the bathroom, you call me, and you tell me all about it.”

“Maybe I just shouldn't go.”

“Babe, you got hurt. That doesn't mean you stop trying. Okay?”

She has a point. Some might think it’s quick how fast you’re trying to move on, but you can’t slow down. If you do, you fear that you’ll never stop crying. With Natasha’s help, you dress in a short black dress that’s classy but still covers everything. You two walk out, and all three men look at you in surprise. Bucky leans his elbows on his knees and rubs his hands together. Thor and Steve smirk at each other, already in tune with what Bucky is thinking.

“Wow. You look amazing,” Bucky says.

“Thank you,” you blush. “I’m kind of nervous but also kind of excited. I’m going to text him and tell him I’m heading over.”

“Wait, have you been texting him?” Bucky asks.

“Yeah, is that bad?”

“No.” He smiles slightly. “It’s nice. Have a good night.”

“This is going to be great,” you grin.

Natasha drives you to the restaurant, and you grab a table since Peter isn’t here yet. You’re a bit early, anyway, so you don’t mind the wait.

Sharon is able to get all three men on the list at the party since she knows the owner. Thor, Bucky, and Steve arrive at the party which has a bunch of people outside waiting to get in. They’re in line when Bucky notices a few of Steve’s friends, including Peter. They spot Steve and head over immediately.

Bucky frowns when he doesn’t see you.

“Where’s Y/N?”

“Oh, dude, she texted me like seven times. Like long ones. I just wanna hook up.”

“So, is she waiting for you to show up or did you call her?”

“Yeah, that's what I did, I called her,” he laughs.

Peter and his friend head inside but Bucky stays where he is. Thor is about to go in when he notices his friends not following him.

“What are you doing?”

“I can’t go inside, man.”

“What do you mean?”

Bucky shakes his head, turns, and jogs away from the party with Steve. Thor’s been looking forward to this party, but he understands that you need them more. He sighs and runs to catch up with his friends.

After thirty minutes of not showing, you know Peter won’t be here. You’re the only table in the restaurant without food except for the free bread they give out. You sigh sadly and look down at your lap, picking apart the bread. You look up when you hear footsteps head your way. Oh, it’s only a waitress.

“Do you have anything else that is free, but also has bread in it because the good bread I ate and uh, all that's left is a… it's like a… it's kind of like a health bread?”

“I'm sorry. We're gonna have to ask you to give up the table.”

“Um, can I please just stay, just a little bit longer?” you ask in a small voice.

“We’re here!” You look behind her to see Thor, Bucky, and Steve enter the restaurant. “Yup, we’re here, Y/N!”

Seeing them is ten times better than seeing Peter.

“We're here for the date thing,” Steve says.

“You're all here for the date?” the waitress asks, shocked.

“Yeah, we are. We're her boyfriends. We are reversed Mormons. One man just isn't enough for her,” Bucky says.

“Okay,” the waitress sighs and walks away.

Now that she’s gone, you look down in sadness. The reality of being stood up weighs heavily on your shoulders.

“Hey, Y/n, that guy was a jerk. You don’t deserve him.”

“You guys missed your party to come here to see me?” you ask and look into his eyes.

“Yeah, we care about you. We like you.”

“That’s so nice,” you sniffle with a smile.

You’ve only met these guys, but you know that moving in with them is one of the best things you could have done for yourself.

x

Want to be tagged? Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[cupidbedsy]

୨୧ a very klutzy christmas ; lh43

➪ summary: something always seemed to go wrong when luke hughes, y/n y/l/n and the Christmas spirit were put in the same place together

➪ warnings: reader is klutzy, being late, forgetting things, running into people (?)

➪ word count: 3.2k

➪ file type: fic - ho ho hockey!

➪ cupid's notes: part of ho ho hockey! i'm so excited for you guys to read this fic, it was supposed to be a four times their christmases were less than ideal but i got carried away with writing this one that i just decided to leave it at this! if you guys want me to write the other three i definitely can, just let me know :)

© cupidbedsy ; do not copy, repost, or translate my work and designs on any other website or here

“Luke c’mon! We have to go, we’re already late.”

She bounced on her feet as she waited to hear the footsteps of her boyfriend, every passing second felt like an eternity. She flicked her eyes down to her watch, groaning at the time it displayed. They were supposed to have left over half an hour ago, and for once it wasn’t her fault that her boyfriend’s family was sitting around their house waiting for them to arrive. 

“Luke, I swear if you’re not out here in 30 seconds I’m going to lose my shit!”

And exactly 30 seconds later she heard the footsteps of her boyfriend climbing down the stairs, pulling his sweater on that was no doubt what she had laid out for him the night before. He jumped off the last step, ruffling his hand through his hair, flashing her a smile, “I’m ready.”

She only stared at him, anger shining in her eyes. Luke simply walked over and placed a kiss on her cheek, giving her an innocent look, “Don’t be mad at me.”

“We were supposed to leave 30 minutes ago, probably more now, and you’re over here taking your sweet ass fucking time-”

“Baby calm down, look at me,” He placed his hands on her arms, looking down at her with a comforting smile, “Everything's going to be okay. They’re not going to be mad at you, they’re not going to be mad at all. Well, maybe my mom will be but definitely not at you. Take a deep breath, alright?”

She sighed and ran a shaky hand over her coat, “Fine, but I’m still mad because I have to wear this,” she pulled on her red turtleneck, “because someone couldn’t keep their hands to themselves.”

Luke’s boyish grin made its way onto his face as he slipped his new sneakers on, moving to open the door for her, “M’lady.”

She stepped through the doorway, making her way down the hallway as Luke trailed behind her, easily catching up to throw an arm around her shoulder and place a kiss on her temple. She softened slightly and looked up at him, a small smile gracing her lips. 

Maybe she was over-stressing just a little bit. It would be her and Luke’s ‘second’ Christmas together, but only her first with his family and it was getting to her head. She had met his family plenty of times before, even spending the summer at the lake house, and spending countless nights at Luke’s old apartment with Jack before he moved in with her. But something about the Christmas energy made her nervous, and something always seemed to go wrong when you put Luke Hughes, y/n y/l/n, and the Christmas spirit together. 

ﾟ+*:୨୧:*﹤

The car ride to the Hughes’ house was quick and familiar, y/n watching the snow fall with nothing short of amusement and nervousness. Luke’s hand rested on her thigh, emanating a comforting feeling and a warmth that she could only associate with him.

She glanced over at him, watching as he removed his hand from her thigh to make the turn down his parents’ street. He was dressed in one of her favorite sweaters of his, it was a nice dark but muted blue that she always loved on him and the collar of his white dress shirt folded over the neckline. His legs were adorned with one of the many pairs of black jeans he owned and his favorite pair of new white sneakers on his feet. 

Luke looked over at her, a smirk on his face once he caught her staring, her cheeks flushed a deep shade of red, but thankfully the darkness that settled at only 4:00 pm covered it well. He held out his hand, making a small gesture to get her to place hers in his. Once she did, he brought it up to his mouth and kissed it,  “Whatcha lookin’ at pretty girl?”

“You.” Y/n replied in a murmur, curling up in the car seat as best as she could, “I did a good job at picking out your outfit.”

“‘Course you did, why do you think I let you?”

She only blushed more at his response, going back to look out the window just in time to see Ellen and Jim’s house come into view. A new wave of nerves settled over her as they pulled into the driveway. She felt Luke’s hand squeeze hers as he turned the car off, shifting to look at her.

Y/n looked over at him and smiled before glancing in the back seat. Her eyes widened as she saw the lack of her favorite Christmas dish, “Luke!”

“What? What’s wrong?”

“We forgot the pie.” She groaned, sitting back in her seat and throwing her head back against the headrest, “Fucking hell.”

“Y/n/n it’s okay, they’re not gonna-”

“That’s not the point Luke. I promised your mom I would bring something and now I forgot it.”

Luke’s face settled into a pout at the disappointment that tainted her face. He reached for her hand again, clutching it between both of his, allowing his thumb to rub over her knuckles, “Baby, listen, please. I know how well you wanted today to be, how perfect you wanted it to be. And I understand that them not being mad isn’t the problem.

“But they love you, probably more than me. They’re not going to be upset because you were having to deal with your childish boyfriend.”

She glanced over at his teasing tone, a huge smile on his face once he saw her lips turn up. She only let out a small ‘humph’ before responding, “You’re always making dumb jokes at the most inappropriate times.”

“I’m just trying to get my girl to smile, is that such a crime these days?”

“I suppose not, but you still have to make it up to me.”

“And how do you propose I do that?” A mischievous glint lit in his eye as he leaned closer to her.

“I don’t know.” She murmured quietly before replicating his actions, meeting his lips over the center console.

Luke grinned into the kiss before pulling away and leaving a small kiss on her forehead, “Let’s go, yeah?”

She nodded as she pulled away, climbing out of the car. She pulled her coat tighter around her, watching as Luke opened the trunk and grabbed the presents, stacking them on top of each other.

“Be careful Lukas, you know what happened last year.”

He rolled his eyes, making his way up the front steps after slamming the trunk closed. He knocked on the front door just as y/n walked up beside him, looping her arm through his.

Soon, the door opened and Jim stood in the entry of the house, “Hey you two.”

“Hi, Mr. Hughes!”

Jim took the presents from his youngest son, before gesturing them into the house, “How many times have Ellen and I told you to just call us by our names, Y/n?”

A sheepish grin made her way to her face, stepping inside of the Hughes’ house, and immediately she was met with the comforting atmosphere of the home. She moved to slip off her boots, but Luke’s hand placed on her lower back stopped her, “I got you.”

This only made her face flush more as Luke knelt down and unzipped her boots, sliding them off with ease. Her nervousness didn’t falter, however, slightly stumbling as Luke pulled her into the kitchen where his mom stood, “Hi momma.”

Ellen looked up from what she was doing, smiling much like him, “Hi! Oh, Luke why’d make the poor girl wait to be here? Probably stressed her out a ton.” She pulled her son into a hug, squeezing him tightly as she pestered him.

As she pulled away, she turned her attention to his girlfriend, her smile getting even wider if that was possible, “Hello sweetheart. Thank you so much for coming, we’re so happy to have you.”

Y/n hugged her back, “Thank you for having me! And you’re right, Luke did make me stress.”

The woman only briefly pulled away to swat at her son’s arm, who held his hands up in surrender before making his way over to where his brothers were, whatever that may have been. Ellen finally pulled out of the hug to continue working on the mashed potatoes.

The girl raised up on her toes as a nervous habit, “Do you need any help?”

“If you want to! You can start setting the table if you wish, dear.”

As she grabbed the plates and started setting the table, she released a small sigh before speaking up, “Also, I may have sort of forgotten the pie. I had it in the fridge and then I just got so flustered before we left that I forgot it.”

“Oh honey, it’s okay. I made extra dessert anyways because Jack always eats all of it.”

“I do not. That is extremely hurtful.” Jack walked into the kitchen, hand brushing an invisible piece of fuzz off his shirt, “Quinn helps too.”

He wrapped an arm around y/n’s shoulders, bringing her into a side hug, “And nice to see you y/n/n. Good job at dressing Luke.”

She couldn’t help but laugh at his words, a small smirk playing on her lips, “I do try to make sure my boyfriend is dressed nicely. It seems you don’t have anyone to help you.”

He scoffed playfully, “I am wounded. You are supposed to be on my side here too.”

“If you’re going to be in the kitchen, you are going to be helping. Help y/n set the plates- Don’t whine at me, Jack.”

He grumbled, taking a stack of forks into his hands and placing them on the side of the plates. 

“Forks go on the left, Jacky. Knives go on the right, ” Y/n teased, now placing napkins on top of each plate, laughing as she heard another annoyed groan from him and watched his eyes roll.

ﾟ+*:୨୧:*﹤

After a while, dinner was nearing ready, y/n having spent most of the time in the kitchen talking with Ellen and helping out when she could. She wiped her hands on her skirt, trying to rid herself of the sweat that clung to them. 

“I’m just going to run to the bathroom quickly if that’s okay?”

Ellen laughed, “You don’t need to ask to go to the bathroom, hon. Just go, I’ll be fine here.”

She blushed, another wave of embarrassment washed over her as she took in her words, “Right.”

She started walking out of the kitchen, scolding herself softly at her actions, stop embarrassing yourself. She froze halfway out of the kitchen, backtracking once she realized she didn’t actually know where the bathroom was, “Mrs- Ellen? Where exactly is-”

“Down the hall and to your left, baby.” A hand fell on her shoulder and a kiss was placed on her temple. 

She turned to look at who it was, grinning when she saw the familiar face of her boyfriend, a lopsided grin that practically matched her own on his face. He kissed her head again, wrapping her up in a hug. He hadn’t seen her since they arrived, catching up with his dad and oldest brother in the living room as they watched whatever sports game was on. 

“Missed you.” He murmured into her ear, squeezing her a little tighter afterward.

“We’ve only been separated for what? 40 minutes?”

“Doesn’t matter, still missed you.”

They stayed like that for a minute before she reminded him softly that she had to go to the bathroom. He pulled away and walked over to his mom, starting up a conversation about something she had no clue about. She was already heading out of the kitchen and down the hallway when she heard them talk. 

She got halfway to the bathroom, looking down at her feet as she thought to herself, when her head knocked against something, groaning in pain, “Mother fucker-” She blinked the tears away that stung in her eyes, clutching her head. 

Once the tears were cleared enough that she could see, she saw Jack standing there, mirroring her actions with a hand to his head. He had been just heading out of the bathroom when it happened, thoughts also racing in his mind causing him to not look where he was going when he ran into her, heads meeting.

“Fucking hell that hurt.” He exclaimed, rubbing at the spot on his forehead that took most of the impact.

They didn’t say anything for a few minutes, just trying to ease their rapidly growing headaches. Once they both got it calmed down enough, they stared at each other before letting out laughs of amusement, “We really need to pay better attention to where we’re walking huh?”

“Yeah, I don’t need everyone to stare at my forehead and then explain that the Jack Hughes caused the bump.”

He ushered her forehead, planning to get him and y/n ice packs from the freezer, but when she took a step, black dots clouded at the edge of her vision causing her to stumble, just barely catching herself against the wall. She heard Jack’s curse, leaning into him as an arm came around her waist, “You okay?”

“Dizzy.” She murmured back, closing her eyes and opening them again, hopes of clearing her fuzzy vision failing. 

“Hold on. Luke!”

Y/n winced at Jack’s yell, pain worsening in her head. She could only give a soft nod of acknowledgment at his whispered apology, holding onto him tighter as she felt the overwhelming dizzy feeling wash over her. 

Luke came walking out of the kitchen, eyes drifting down the hallway, “What’re you yelling for?”

His gaze fell upon his brother and girlfriend, huddled together against a wall, a worried expression on the former and a pained one on the other, “What happened? Is she okay?”

He walked briskly to get to the two, immediately taking his girlfriend into his arms, pressing multiple soft kisses to her head, and rubbing her arm up and down, “What’s going on?”

“We knocked our heads together, was going to get us ice packs when she stumbled. Said she felt dizzy.”

“I’m fine, just dizzy like he said.”

Luke shook his head, tucking her into his side safely, walking them back to the kitchen to sit down, “Let’s get you some ice, sweet girl, c’mon.”

He sat her down on a chair, brushing the hair away from her face. He heard Jack mumble something to their mom but his focus was solely on his girlfriend, cupping her face and looking over her head. She winced as his thumb brushed over the point of impact, shaking her head slightly at his apology. 

There was a tap on Luke’s shoulder, Ellen now standing behind him with an ice pack wrapped in a towel in her hand, “Here. Put this on her forehead for ten minutes and then take it off.”

He nodded, taking the ice pack from her and placing it gently on y/n’s forehead. Ellen smiled softly before switching her gaze to the girl, “How’re you doing?”

“Could be worse,” she murmured, blinking slowly to clear her vision again. “Has to be the first time I’ve knocked heads with someone this hard.”

“That’s just because Jack has a big head.” A new voice entered the room and as best as she could, she moved her eyes to find the third Hughes brother.

“I do not!”

“Do too!”

“Do not!”

“Would you shut up?” Luke asked exasperated, pressing the ice pack a little harder into his girlfriend’s head as she winced from the noise.

“Sorry.” The two murmured.

“S’okay. Just fight quieter please if you’re going to fight.” She spoke up, leaning into the cold compress.

They nodded taking their seats at the table as they watched their younger brother and his girlfriend. Luke slowly took the icepack away from her head, placing it on the ground next to her chair. He moved the hair that had fallen back into her face, tucking it behind her ear, “You feeling better?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

He stands up, placing a kiss on her temple before sitting down next to her. The six of them start eating, easily falling into a conversation about hockey even after the multiple attempts Ellen had to end it. Y/n doesn’t mind it, her head is still pounding and even the thought of thinking about hockey is hurting it more.

She eats the majority of the food Luke has placed on her plate, taking her time and pushing it around slightly. She feels bad, she doesn’t want Ellen to feel like she doesn’t like the food, but it’s hard for her to focus right now and the knocking her head against Jack’s has left her more tired than she was when she arrived.

ﾟ+*:୨୧:*﹤

After dinner, the six of them all clean up, or y/n tries to and then is scolded by Luke and his mom to sit on the chair or go into the living room and lie down. So that’s where she was when Luke came and found her, curled up on one side of the couch, her head resting on the armrest.

“Hey,” he kisses her softly, sitting down next to her, “You want to head out?”

She went to protest, saying they hadn’t opened their gifts or even had dessert yet but the idea of going home sounded really appealing, so she nodded, using Luke’s help to stand up. They walked back to the kitchen, informing everyone that they were going to be heading back home. 

Luke grabbed the small platter of cookies and pieces of pie from his mom, y/n thanking her for him. They then made their way into the foyer where Luke helped her get her boots on, patting each thigh when he was done. 

They said their goodbyes and then walked down the driveway with gifts and dessert in hand, placing them in the backseat before climbing into the car.

“You sure you’re okay, baby?”

“Yeah, I feel better after eating.”

“That’s good.”

He pulled out of the driveway, making their way down the street when he heard her voice, “Can’t believe the first Christmas with your family we show up late, we forget the pie and I knocked heads with your brother.”

He chuckled, “Honestly, did you expect anything less?”

She thought about it, and no she didn’t expect less. Ever since she and Luke met their Christmases had been less than ideal. When they met, she knocked into him at a coffee shop, successfully spilling coffee all over herself and Luke. On their first Christmas together, Luke broke his gift for her, and she had to deal with a flustered and anxious Luke. And now this.

“You’re right. I think we’re just destined to have dumbass Christmases.”

“Hey, at least it’ll be my turn next year. Let’s hope I don’t break something.”

ﾟ+*:୨୧:*﹤

He did indeed break something, his arm. He was setting up Christmas lights around their house, it would be the first one in it. He didn’t know how it happened, all he knew was that one moment he was connecting sets of lights and the next he was on the ground clutching his arm in pain. It was a long night in the ER. 

꒰ NEW JERSEY DEVILS TAGLIST ꒱

@toasttt11 @chiblackhawks @nicole01-23 @auriesphantom @pucks-goals-penalties @dancerbailey3 @rowdyluv @petite-potato4 @thehuggybearslover @absolutelyhugh3s @kei943 @dyslecticdutchman @this-ass-is-eikonic @delilaahh9 @winterbarnesblog

LH43 MASTERLIST ; NHL MASTERLIST ; HHH MASTERLIST

TAGLIST ; NAVIGATION

© CUPIDBEDSY

[thefreakandthehair]

fireplace.

written for @steddieholidaydrabbles & @steddiemas | prompts: fireplace and cabin | wc: 969 | rating: teen & up | tags: mutual requited pining, post-canon, steve pov, getting together, first kiss, winter fluff, artist!Eddie, domestic

It was supposed to be a group trip.

After they’d lost their spring and summer to fighting off an apocalypse, and then their fall to nursing their injuries both physical and mental, they’d wanted to get away. Steve, Robin, Argyle, Nancy, Jonathan, and Eddie had planned on taking advantage of the Harrington’s cabin just over the border to Michigan, but it fell apart as quickly as it had come together. Robin’s parents booked a surprise trip to France, Karen and Ted wanted to spend more time with Nancy, Mike, and Holly, Argyle’s family wanted him to come back for the holidays and where Argyle goes, Jonathan goes.

It was supposed to be a group trip but instead, Steve finds himself alone in the cozy midwestern retreat with Eddie, his mismatched socked feet on Steve’s lap, and the sounds of his humming as he scribbles something in his notebook.

Steve doesn’t mind— in fact, he feels a little bit guilty because he almost… well, he’s glad that it ended up being just the two of them. He loves Robin, and he’s really come around to Jonathan, Argyle, and Nancy as good friends and not just fellow involuntary soldiers forced to band together, but there’s just something different about his time with Eddie.

When it’s just the two of them, no one asking for rides or teasing either of them for how close they sit on the couch, Steve relaxes. He breathes. He just is. Eddie doesn’t expect much of him, or if he does, he never lets on and Steve certainly isn’t going to ask and ruin the moment. Just like the moment he finds himself in now: comfortable silence broken by nothing but a crackling fire and the sound of Eddie’s pencil against the page.

“What’re you doing over there?” Steve asks, gently squeezing Eddie’s calf with the hand he hadn’t realized was absentmindedly rubbing up and down Eddie’s soft, worn-in sweatpants.

“Huh?” Eddie looks up, eyebrows hitched up and pencil coming to a halt. “Oh, nothing. Just sketching, I guess.”

“Is it for the campaign?” Steve grins. “Can I see? I won’t tell Dustin, I promise.”

“That little shit would bat his eyes twice and you’d spill the whole ending, are you kidding me?” Eddie laughs, pulling his notebook closer to his chest. “And no, it’s not for the campaign anyways. It’s for my eyes only.”

“Oh, now all of a sudden, we’re keeping secrets?” Steve shakes his head and rolls his eyes, fond.

“It’s just lame, at least by my standards. There’s not a single snake or skull on this page, man. Nothing interesting, Boy Scouts’ Honor.” Eddie gives Steve a sly salute and Steve snorts, scooting closer so Eddie’s feet hang fully over his legs, his knees bent over Steve’s thighs.

“You were never a Boy Scout, so that means nothing,” he starts. “Besides, it doesn’t have to be all dark or whatever for me to think it’s interesting. It’s interesting because it’s yours.”

His voice comes out a little softer than he anticipated, all humor gone and replaced with hushed vulnerability. Eddie picks up on it, like he always does when it’s Steve, and tilts his head slightly.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Steve nods, squeezes Eddie’s leg again but with intention this time.

“Tell anyone and I’ll find a way to resurrect Vecna, okay?”

“I’ll probably tell Robin,” Steve admits.

“I always assume you’ll tell Robin; she doesn’t count.” Eddie chuckles under his breath with a crooked smile, peeling his notebook away from his chest. “Alright, here.”

He looks away as he hands the notebook to Steve and Steve’s breath catches in his throat. Eddie’s art takes up two full pages, the cabin sketched in pencil and the fireplace detailed with varying shades of graphite. Dark gray stones from the mantle to the ceiling, roaring flames that seem to move in tandem with the fire right in front of them, dancing and crackling both on the page and in real life. The wooden logs on the page mirror the old-world charm of the walls that surround them, and in the center of it all, Steve sits on the couch with Eddie’s legs in his lap and a notebook in Eddie’s hands.

Steve looks closer, picking out the minutiae he’s missed from his own perspective. His features are soft, shadows from the fire across his Hawkins High hoodie, and more importantly, Eddie isn’t drawing in his sketch. He’s not scribbling away, shading, his tongue just barely poking out between his teeth in concentration. No, on the page, Eddie’s not even looking at his notebook.

He’s looking at Steve.

“Wow,” Steve exhales, finally looking back to Eddie and his hesitant, worried eyes. “Ed, this is incredible. You call this uninteresting?”

“You like it?”

“I love it,” he responds. The I love you stays silent. “Is this really how you see me?”

“Not exactly. I’m uh,” Eddie pauses, seems to draw up courage as he sits up a little straighter. “I’m not a good enough artist to draw you how I see you.”

Silence sits heavy between them, joining them on the couch as Steve tries to figure out what to do, how to decipher if the warmth in his chest is from what he thinks Eddie’s trying to say or from the fire in front of them.

It’s just the two of them and, well, words have never really been Steve’s strength, have they?

Eventually, he’ll find the words to tell Eddie how he sees him, how he feels about him; Steve will tell him that he feels like hot chocolate and warm blankets, and that sometimes he drives him a little insane but in all of the best ways.

For now though, it’s just the two of them with Steve’s lips against Eddie’s, and that’s more than enough.

[princesssae]

{But You Like Her Better}

[Megumi Fushiguro x Fem!Reader]

In Which -> It’s the 3rd of December, so why do you see Megumi handing his sweater over to Hana Kurusu?

Word Count -> 2.4k

Authors Note -> Ever since she said “that” to Megumi, I started disliking her. But today is the 3rd of December, and it’s the PERFECT time to write this. This fic is based on Heather, by Conan Gray so I suggest listening to this song before reading! This is not apart of the Kid!Megumi series!

Warnings -> THIS TAKES PLACE AFTER THE FINAL BATTLE AGAINST SUKUNA!!!! Spoilers if you haven’t read the chapters!!! ANGSTTT, fluff at the end.

It’s cold today. You shiver and walk down the empty hall. Maybe you should ask Maki to train with you today. After all, you need to get warm. Sitting in the building with no heat is killing you. Why hasn’t anyone changed the thermostat temperature yet?

You turn around the hallway to go to the exit and there you see Megumi. What’s he doing on this side of the building? He’s usually never here. Usually, he’s always in his dorm room or out with Itadori. That brings you to your next point. Where's Yuji at? They’re usually attached at the hip after the incident. But Yuji isn't there. It's someone else.

It's blonde hair. Short, shiny, blonde hair. And there you see it. You see Megumi handing his sweater over to Kurusu Hana. She’s pretty. Prettier than you. Her eyes are as bright as the blue sky. Maybe he’s mesmerized by them. Maybe that's why he’s holding eye contact with her for so long.

“Do I hear wedding bells?” she exclaims, with her hands over her mouth. She acts like a middle school girl squealing because her crush just confessed. Maybe that’s what just happened. From here, you can tell that her cheeks are pink.

Your heart stings. This is something you definitely did not need to witness. You turn away from the scene and walk away to go to your dorm room.

She’s an angel. Literally and figuratively. Maybe that's why he likes her. He likes girls that are pretty like her. Did he know that it was the third of December?

The scene in your head, no matter how many times you replay it again and again, he was gazing into her eyes. He’s in love, isn’t he? And it's not with you, it's with her.

The next morning, you sit in the dorm living room, eating breakfast. You realize you forgot to get a drink and while you were about to get up, Hana is suddenly next to you, handing you your favorite drink. She smiles once you accept the drink. She’s so shiny.

“Here,” she says.

“Thanks,” you respond with, still in shock that she knows your favorite drink.

“Yuji told me that it’s your favorite drink,” she explains. She’s already on a first name basis with him? It took you months to be able to get comfortable with saying his first name. Maybe he likes her better, too.

“Oh, well thank you anyways,” you say and take a sip of the drink. She’s so nice.

When she walks away, you notice the choice of clothing that she’s wearing today. It’s a sweater. Megumi’s sweater, to be exact. There’s a pang in your heart but that’s okay. He wants her. It’s his choice anyway. It’s not like you ever had a chance with him.

Later that night, the group is watching a movie in the living room but you turned in, telling the group that you didn’t feel good. Maki and Nobara tagged along with you anyways, saying that they didn't wanna see Hana all over Megumi.

Having a girls night was needed. Silly face masks being used, matching pajamas being worn, and even hot chocolate with tiny marshmallows were made from the kitchen.

They know about your tiny (not really tiny) crush on Megumi. You’ve had a crush on him for so, very long. You met Megumi when he was in middle school, roughing up the bullies that ever crossed his way. Being in the same class, he knew you were getting picked on.

But for what reason? You'll never find out. It's not like you were a loner. In fact, you had a nice friend group, good grades and a good social life. Maybe they were jealous of your friends. Who knows?

Sitting on your bed, you come back to your senses and realize that Nobara and Maki are still in your room. You wait for their arguing to end to start your own story about yesterday's incident. When you get enough courage to tell them what happened yesterday, Nobara gets furious.

“Are you serious? Why did he do this?!” she exclaims out of frustration. “And yesterday out of all days? Be serious,” Nobara scoffs and crosses her arms.

She knows that Megumi doesn’t have a crush on Hana. He just feels indebted to her for saving his life. But she knows that he shouldn't have taken it that far.

Maki nods in agreement. “Yeah, I just don't think that he has the hots for her, you know?” she states, stretching her arms.

Speak of the Devil. Your phone dings and it's a message from someone. Megumi, to be exact. You pick up the phone and show your friends the notification from your home screen. When you open the message, you hear Nobara groaning in the background saying something along the lines of “boys and their obliviousness”.

Megumi <3: Are you okay? Yuji told me that you said that you didn't feel well.

Sent at 8:30 pm

You: Yeah! I'm okay. Nobara and Maki are with me.

Sent at 8:31 pm

Megumi <3: Oh okay. Just wondering why you weren't here tonight.

Sent at 8:31 pm

And that's the end of the conversation. Not like you expected anything out of it anyways. Hana’s probably on the couch, cozying up next to him. He probably has his arm around her shoulder. They probably kiss when nobody's looking. Megumi would never kiss you. She’d probably get hurt if she found out that Megumi was talking to someone when she’s right next to him.

Maybe you should change his contact name. He’s taken already, isn’t he? It wouldn’t be proper to crush on someone while they're talking to someone else. You'll do it later.

You turn off your phone and join the conversation Nobara is wildly explaining, about somebody stealing some shopping bags? You don't know, but you know that you enjoy your time with them.

A week later, all the students are at a ramen booth eating their worries away. Shoko says that it's her treat, as long as you get her a pack of cigarettes while yall are out. You're not legal enough to do it, but maybe you'll pay someone to get it for you.

At the end of your meal, when you're about to go up and pay with Shoko’s card, you're tapped on the shoulder by someone. You turn around and you're faced by someone from your middle school.

“Hey, how are you? I feel like it's been so long since we've seen each other,” your guy friend says. He was introduced to your friend group a little later than when you joined, but nevertheless, you enjoyed each other's company.

“Good, I'm doing good. How are you?” you question back.

“Good, thanks. I see a lot of new faces from your new high school. Oh, and there's Megumi. Hey Megumi, how are you doing man?” he asks. Megumi, seated from across the table, nods his head in encouragement and responds with a short answer.

Your guy friend reverts his attention back to you and the rest of the conversation goes smoothly.

When he says goodbye to you, he gives you his phone number and tells you to let him know when you're free. He wants to hang out with you, and maybe get the gang back together.

On the way back home, Nobara gets all excited. “Did you see the way he was looking at her, Maki?! He’s soooo interested,” she tells you, with her arms waving in the air ecstatically.

“Yes, yes, I saw,” Maki responds. It's vague, but you can tell she’s excited by the twinkle in her eye.

The group of guys, which include Yuji, Inumaki, Panda, Yuta and Megumi walk behind yall by a couple of steps. They’re engrossed in their own conversation, but you see Megumi’s eyes flicker towards yours before he pulls away with a frown.

What's up with him? You wonder. Maybe it's because Hana isn't here. She said that she was busy and couldn't show up tonight. It's not like you cared. But oh well, it's not your problem anymore.

It’s 9:27 pm at night when you get another message. You sort of hope that it's your friend that you recently connected with. But all your hope diminishes when you realize who it is.

Megumi <3: Come to the kitchen.

Sent at 9:27 pm

It's all he sends and you wonder if it was for someone else instead. You contemplate on going, but it's just been so awkward between the two of yall lately. So no, you decide not to go and to sleep instead. Maybe you're finally getting over your silly crush. Maki and Nobara would be proud.

There's a knock at your door. You look over at your clock and it's 3:32 am. Who is up this late at night? Another knock. Are you serious? Sleep is needed right now. You get up and open the door, fully prepared to yell at the person who was disturbing your sleep. But, it's Yuji.

He sees the look of annoyance on your face and debates on whether he should continue his speech or not. He takes the risk anyway.

“I need you to go to the living room,” he states.

“And why is that?” you ask, still obviously annoyed.

“Because! I was watching this horror movie and something moved, I swear. I ran and everyone else would yell at me! Except for you, of course,” he explains hastily. “I just wanna turn off the TV because I don't wanna hear things in my sleep and it's actually the TV noise,” he continues.

You feel bad. He’s had a living curse live inside of him and he's scared of a movie. But not any curse, the King of Curses. Maybe he has PTSD. Why would he even be watching a horror movie this late at night anyways? He doesn't like movies like that.

You give in. You tell him to get to bed while you turn off the TV. He smiles and hugs you tight. He wishes you a good night and that he’s sorry for interrupting your sleep. You grin at him in return and walk towards the living room, where the movie is playing.

When you enter the room, you don’t see a movie playing. The lights are also on. Did Yuji just lie to you? Now, you're furious. Not only did he lie to you, he woke you up at the Devil's hour just for a stupid prank.

You turn around and are about to head back to Yuji's room to give him a piece of your mind, but then you see Megumi. He’s holding two cups of hot chocolate. Tiny marshmallows are floating on top of them.

“Can we talk, please?’ He asks. He sees your shocked face. Then he sees it turns into a contemplative face. Why are you avoiding him? That hurts so much.

After a few seconds, you reply with “Why not? It would be a waste of a hot chocolate,” deciding to talk. His shoulders relax, glad that you said yes.

When you both sit on the couch, he starts the conversation. “You’ve been avoiding me,” he points out.

“Well yeah, it's awkward and I don't want anything to happen between you and Hana if she sees me together with you,” you state. You're being considerate. You wouldn't like it either if a girl kept on hanging around your boyfriend.

“Nothing happening with me and Hana,” he states.

“But you gave her your sweater,” you explain.

“I don't like her. I was just being nice. It's what Gojo would've wanted. He would've wanted me to treat everyone nicer, especially if they risked their life to save me,” he states again. What he says next is appalling.

“I don't like her, I like you,” and suddenly, Megumi can't look you in the eyes anymore. His cheeks are getting rosy and his face is turned away. You're in awe. When has he shown any interest in you? He’s always been distant and quiet around you.

“I'm not even half as pretty as she is,” you try again. Maybe this is a prank, or even better, a dream.

He looks at you again. And this is all you need to know to know that this is all real. One look in his eyes and you're enchanted. He’s also mesmerized. He likes looking into your eyes.

“You’re prettier than her. You care so much for everyone around you and I like that about you. Ever since we were in middle school, I’ve always wondered what it was like to have you as a friend. But now since I’ve felt that, I wanna know what it's like to be yours,” he finishes. His whole face is slightly pink now. Even the tips of his ears are pink.

“Okay,” you say. “Okay, let's do this, then,” you state again with more confidence in your answer.

Megumi finally exhales on that. His shoulders relax again and he's able to smile. He never smiled when Hana was around. That should’ve been a dead give away that he didn't like her.

For the next hour, you and Megumi chat. You finish the hot chocolate and laugh when he gets a milk mustache.

When you finally say good night to each other, he walks you to your dorm room and tells you that he can't wait to see you later.

Getting back in bed, you check your phone on your nightstand. It has two messages and it's from Nobara.

Nobaka: Tell Yuji to shut up, I can hear him

Sent at 3:32 am

Nobaka: DID I JUST HEAR MEGUMI’S VOICE!?!!? THIS LATE AT NIGHT?!?! YOU BETTER TELL ME WHAT HAPPENED

Sent at 4:35 am

Then you get a message from Megumi.

Megumi <3: Sleep well. And please block that guy from the ramen shop.

Sent at 4:37 am

You smile and set your phone back down on the table. Maybe December eleventh isn't so bad after all to start dating Megumi Fushiguro.

Please do not copy, translate, or alter my work without my permission!

[theonottsbxtch]

HEYYY SO HAPPY YOU HIT 1.5K

sososos proud of you!!

can I order one 🥐 croissant with either mafia max or mafia Oscar where it’s a marriage of convenience and the reader gets kidnapped and prior to her being taken away they argued and it hits harder for max or osc just super angsty I know you’ll do amazing

🤠anon

omg!! bro JUST IMAGINE MAD MAX RAHHHHH

the silence of the monaco penthouse was louder than any argument they’d ever had. she had slept in the spare room last night, the cool detachment between them a sharp contrast to their usual fiery exchanges. his words still rang in her ears: “you always think you know better. just stay out of it next time.” he hadn’t meant it—not really. she had snapped back, accusing him of arrogance, and stormed off before either of them could apologise.

now, max was pacing the vast, empty living room with a glass of whiskey in hand, he felt the gnaw of regret. she always managed to make him feel something—whether it was fury, exasperation, or the quiet pull of emotions he had never intended to feel. but today was different. the eerie calm in the air made his skin itch.

she was late.

the call came just as lando burst into the room, face ashen. "she’s gone."

the whiskey glass shattered on the floor.

“what the fuck do you mean, gone?” max’s voice was a low growl, the kind that sent men running.

lando hesitated. "there was... an ambush. two cars intercepted her. we’ve tracked them to the outskirts of nice, but they’re gone now. it’s—they’ve taken her."

his world narrowed to a singular point of rage. he didn’t ask who “they” were. he didn’t care. whoever had dared to touch her would regret it for the rest of their brief, miserable lives.

he tore through monaco like a storm, leaving destruction in his wake. contacts who dared stall for information found their livelihoods—and sometimes their lives—torn apart. the once-calm leader was now a man unhinged, driven by a need he couldn’t even name. when he was young he’d been known as max, and now he felt that same young man leading.

“where is she?” he demanded, pinning george against the wall of a seedy nightclub hours later. blood dripped from the man’s nose, his breath wheezing as he stammered, “th-they wanted leverage! to make you back down from the port deal—”

“wrong move.” his voice was a death sentence.

george’s screams echoed in the alley, but he didn’t flinch. all he could see was her face—the way she’d glare at him, lips parted as she spat out a retort. the way she’d softened lately, brushing his hand absentmindedly as they passed each other. the way she’d kissed him once, unguarded, like she wasn’t supposed to but couldn’t stop herself.

his chest ached, a sensation he wasn’t accustomed to. it wasn’t just fury driving him—it was fear. a raw, unrelenting terror that something might happen to her before he could say what he should have said last night: “i don’t hate you. i never have.”

hours later, he finally found the hideout.

the air inside was damp, the walls crumbling. he moved silently, his gun drawn, his jaw clenched. when he saw her, tied to a chair in the center of the room, blood marring her temple, something inside him snapped.

the ferrari guards barely had time to react before he gunned them down.

when it was over, she looked up, dazed, as he knelt before her.

“you’re okay,” he murmured, his hands trembling as they cupped her face. “you’re okay.” but he was comforting himself more than her.

her voice was hoarse. “took you long enough.”

despite everything, she managed a weak smirk. he huffed out a breathless laugh, his forehead pressing against hers. “don’t ever do that to me again.”

“pretty sure it wasn’t my choice.”

he untied her carefully, as though she might shatter. when she finally leaned into him, letting herself collapse into his arms, he held her like a lifeline.

later, as they sat in the car, her head resting on his shoulder, she murmured, “you know, i wasn’t really mad at you last night.”

max tightened his arm around her. “neither was i.”

silence stretched between them, not uncomfortable this time, but loaded with something new.

“i thought i lost you,” he admitted softly.

she tilted her head to look up at him, her fingers curling into his jacket. “you won’t.”

and though neither of them said it, they both knew they’d crossed a line they could never go back from.

he didn’t mind.

i would commit CRIMES for mafia!max

[auroracalisto]

to call you mine.

anthony bridgerton x gn!reader, 2.4k words summary: anthony comes to the realization that perhaps he needs you more than just a few times a month. can be read as a standalone, but it is a continuation of this short fic here. tw: reader comes from a poorer background which is discussed in the first half of this, mentions of scandals, anxious thoughts, idk man i don't think there really needs to be a tw for this. not really edited though so there may be a few mistakes i missed on my initial two read-throughs. :-)

"I beg you," you softly said. "I beg you to stay, just 'til tomorrow." He looked back at you as he finished buttoning up his shirt, grabbing his trousers from the end of the bed and pulling them on rather quickly. "Y/n, you know I can't do that," he said. "As much as I wish I could." He crossed the threshold to be beside of you, taking your chin in between his thumb and forefinger. He pressed a kiss to your forehead. "I do wish I could. But it's not going to happen. Not today." read the full blurb here.

Scandalous. Unworthy. Only the words of a scandalized mind haunted your every step.

Compared to your lover, you were a simpleton—gullible, unready for the truth that the world was so willing to give. The truth that you weren't worthy of Anthony Bridgerton. A Viscount. Someone of your status wouldn't come close to being with a Viscount, no matter how much pining you did to try and get him to stay with you longer than the early hours of the morning.

You knew this. And yet, your heart pined for him. Your heart ached for him.

Day in and day out, you wished for him to stay just a bit longer. Just a bit longer, in your arms. In your bed. In the warmth of your embrace.

Oh, God, what you would give to have Anthony until your dying breath.

But the world wasn't fair. The 'ton did as it would, and if any suspected Anthony had been with you, the repercussions would be immense. Perhaps not for Anthony, but for you.

Your family would never hear the end of it. You would be scandalized until the end of your days.

You would be happy just to be beside of him. To breathe the same air as he.

We never get what we truly want, do we, dear reader?

The sanctity of your bedroom, despite how run down in may be, was all you'd share with Anthony. It seemed as if that was the only moment in time when you could share your body with his, your thoughts with his, your heart with his.

It would never be enough.

You came from a less than savory background. Your mother married for love instead of status, and married a simple printer from the slums of London.

Happy, yes, but the money wasn't what your mother was used to. At times, it seemed to go up and missing, and it would lead to arguments between your parents. As much as they loved each other, it did not help that they could not agree... financially.

But nonetheless, when the time was right and your mother was able to scrounge together enough money for a new dress and a new set of clothes for you, the two of you walked through the 'ton. She'd go and visit her mother, whom would accept her with open arms unless her father was around. She'd walk the same path as the Bridgertons' and Featheringtons' and ignore the questioning looks that were sent her way. She was after all a mysterious woman—to them, at least.

A woman who married for love. A woman who married a printer. How incredulous to think about for those of the 'ton. When it first happened, the scandal was immense.

And now, it seemed, you were in the same boat. Not wanting to marry for money but wanting to marry for love.

Love of the one and only Viscount Bridgerton. The one who could hardly look at you in the daylight, only seeking your comforts when the moon was high in the sky.

Today was one of the days that your mother finally had a new dress. It was quite charming, the deep green fabric complimenting her skin quite nicely. Your outfit was equally charming, in the color of your choice.

"Darling," your mother said, grabbing onto your arm as the two of you walked the path through the 'ton. You could remember the last time you had walked this path, nearly two months ago.

How time had flown since then.

The time spent with Anthony not only haunting your bed but your heart as well.

"Look," she said, squeezing your flesh with warm fingers. She doesn't point, but she nudges you and motions with her head.

Your eyes flickered towards where she directed, and you could feel your heart plummet.

Anthony Bridgerton and his family were out for a stroll. His brother seemed rather amused over something, even going as far as calling his brother's name.

You looked at your mother, feeling rather... ridiculous for how nervous you felt.

"We should keep walking, mother," you said.

"Nonsense! Long ago, I was quite close to Violet Bridgerton. I'd like to say hello, Y/n."

"But mother—"

"—it is not often that I allow myself a stroll through the 'ton. The carriage out is an expense in itself, Y/n. Please. Allow me to say hello to an old friend."

You paused, a soft frown on your lips. "Yes, of course. I'm sorry mother."

She let out a soft sigh and patted your arm, giving a small nod. She continued to walk forward with you.

When Violet Bridgerton spotted the two of you, she began to smile.

She called your mother's name and immediately left her children's side, coming to the woman she had once called a dear friend.

"Oh, my, how lovely you look!" Violet hugged your mother tightly once she had let go of your arm.

You stood to the side, eyes flickering from your mother to Violet. Then, when you believed it was safe, you glanced towards the bane of your existence—Anthony Bridgerton.

He was looking.

Your eyes widened a bit and you quickly looked away.

Just a few nights before had he been in your bed, looking at you with those delicious brown eyes. Just a few nights before had he ravished your body, looking at you as if you were the diamond he had been searching for all his life.

You could barely look at him without becoming flustered.

As Violet and your mother spoke, you hardly paid attention. Only when your mother said your name did you properly look to them.

"Remember Y/n?" your mother asked.

Violet smiled. "Oh, my," she said. "They certainly have grown, hm? I remember when they were just a little thing. How old are you, now, dear? Close to Daphne's age, yes?"

You blinked slowly and mutter out an answer.

Violet heard anyway. "Well," she softly said. "You are a beauty, through and through. Your mother was always quite beautiful growing up. You are lucky to have that with you, dear."

You weakly smiled. "Thank you, Lady Bridgerton."

Violet smiled softly at your politeness. She looked back at your mother. "Come. Walk with my family. There is much I'd like to talk to you about before you go and hide for the next few months, friend."

Your mother didn't look at you as she happily agreed. You would have protested, but the excited look on her face made you hesitate.

You could deal with being near the one you secretly loved if it meant your mother would be happy, even if momentarily.

The sun is high in the sky as the two of you walk towards Violet's family.

You see as Anthony's brother, the one you believe to be Benedict, nudges him rather roughly. Anthony looked to you, face paling at the sight of you.

He had promised you only nights before that you would see him again soon. You supposed he kept his promise, if not crudely done.

You could hardly look at him as you walked along with your mother, looking anywhere but him.

His sister, Eloise, is the one who comes to stand beside of you.

"You are Y/n," Eloise blurted, looking at you with wide, curious eyes. It wasn't often she met one of her brother's conquests—hell, she wasn't even sure if he knew she had found out. Eloise is rather... studious when she wants to be, when it comes to her brothers.

You blinked slowly as you looked at her. "I... I am, yes."

Eloise let out a soft hum, looking over her shoulder. Anthony is staring, saying something out of earshot to Benedict. Eloise then looked out towards the path as they walked.

"It is nice to have a name to the face," she said. "It is often that I only hear your name and have nothing more to go by."

You blinked slowly. "How did you—"

"—he speaks of you," she quickly said. "Often."

"He does?"

Your voice is small—weak, even. As if you couldn't believe the words you were hearing.

"Yes," Eloise said, a humble smile on her lips. "He does."

Benedict Bridgerton looked to his brother, a not-so-subtle grin on his lips. "You act as if you have never been in love, brother."

"I haven't," Anthony said, walking along the path. He looked towards Y/n and her mother as they walked alongside of his mother.

"Why do you lie?" Benedict teased. "It is as if you have never been so in-tune with your own feelings than now. You know you have been in love. You are staring at the very object of your affections, and yet you are letting them slip right through your fingertips."

He looked back at his brother, going to protest, but it dies on his lips. He knows he is right.

He has told Y/n far too many times that he would go back to them—that he would see them soon enough, that he would ravish them on another night.

He has told Y/n far too many times that he needed to return to his family before morning.

He was a Viscount, for god's sake. He could do as he pleased.

But something within him didn't want to do as he pleased just because of that. He wanted more. He wanted more from Y/n, from himself. From the love he knew he could create with them.

He would be better. For them. For himself, and for his family.

Days passed by rather quickly. It was as if your lonely nights had blurred into one. Not that you were complaining. How could you? The longer time passed, the sooner you would see Anthony once more.

In the early hours of an especially difficult night, the knock at your window is unmistakable.

How childish it was for him to throw pebbles at your window to get your attention. It was as if he hadn't grown, despite being at the right age of nine and twenty.

You go to your window and look down, seeing none other than Anthony Bridgerton. You open the window to peer down at him, a deep frown on your lips.

"Anthony—"

"—please, Y/n," he said, almost desperate. The way he says your name makes you melt. "We need to talk. Now."

You blinked slowly and stared at him for almost a solid minute. You reach over and grab a shawl to keep over your shoulders as you walked to the back entrance, where Anthony would greet you like he did so many other times.

But this time, the greeting was a deep and hungry kiss, hands cupping your cheeks as if he'd not had a comforting touch in a hundred years.

You let out a noise of surprise, nearly losing your grasp on your shawl as you kiss him back, eyes fluttering shut.

When he pulled back, resting his forehead against yours, he spoke.

"I need you," he said.

"Anthony..."

"No," he said. "You do not understand what I am saying, Y/n. I need you like I've—oh, I've never needed anyone as bad as what I need you. Not just your body. Not just—not just your lips, love. I need—I need all of you."

You stared up at him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"The last you saw of me. I said you wouldn't be happy with me. I—I hope that it is merely a lie of mine. The way I would burn the 'ton to the ground just to have you by my side—you have no idea what I would do for you."

You just listened as he spoke, wide eyed and breathing heavily.

"You asked me to stay. Stay 'til tomorrow. Y/n, I... I cannot do that unless you become mine. Completely mine. And I—I do not wish to part from you. Parting from you is like parting from a vice that I didn't know I needed. I need you more than I ever believed possible." Anthony licked his lips, looking down at you. His hands cupped your cheeks once more, thumb brushing against your bottom lip. "I do not wish to be parted from you any more than I have been."

"And how will you do that?" you asked, gently grabbing onto his forearms as he looked into your eyes. "You said it yourself. You cannot stay with me."

He shook his head, resting his forehead against yours. "I will make it work. I am a Viscount, and my sister is the Duchess of Hastings. The things that I can do will solve all the problems we may face... if you'll have me, of course."

You swallowed nervously as you watched him. "But the scandal—"

"—to hell with the scandals, Y/n," he said. "I would face a hundred of them if it meant that I could see your face morning, noon, and night. I would face a hundred more just to be able to call you mine."

He leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. Not as desperate as the one from before, but still just as powerful.

"Please. I know what I said, and I am sorry for being so foolish. You are the one I want, the one I need. My heart yearns for yours, Y/n."

"What are you asking me, Anthony?"

"I am asking you to marry me, Y/n. Marry me, and I will never leave you alone. Not like I have."

"You wish for me to marry you?"

"More than anything I've ever wished for," he softly said.

"Even though I am not of... of proper standing?"

"You are proper enough," he said, a small smile quirking on his lips.

You let out a soft huff, eyes searching his, before you find yourself nodding in return.

"I will marry you, but only with one condition," you said.

His eyes widened a bit. "Yes, of course. What is it?"

"Do not leave my side. When we are together, do not leave unless it is absolutely necessary. I do not know if I could handle it if you were to leave me to my lonesome," you said. "You have already done so, far too many times."

He smiled down at you, pressing yet another kiss to your lips. "I promise."

"No. Swear it."

He pulled back, tilting his head. "I swear it, Y/n. I will do no such thing for as long as I breathe."

tagging: @captainsophiestark @fall-outgirl219 @bowti3esrc00l

[strnilolover]

what would matt and/or chris do if reader leaked through her pants (period) while they were out shopping but she was already in a bad mood so they’re trying not to upset her while trying to fix it??

they’d both be sweet and not obvious about it. They’d try to get her to like follow them some place else away form everyone’s eyes and help her.

Matt …

Matt had been keeping an eye on you ever since you woke up in a bad mood. He noticed the way you crossed your arms tightly as you browsed through racks of clothes, clearly uninterested in shopping. He didn’t press you, knowing you just needed some space.

But when you shifted awkwardly and tugged at the back of your shirt, he knew something was wrong. His eyes quickly scanned you, and when he caught sight of the faint stain on your pants, his heart sank.

Matt stepped closer, lowering his voice to keep things casual. “Hey, babe, let’s grab a drink or something. You’ve been looking at clothes for ages.”

You shot him a tired look. “I don’t even want to be here, Matt.” you snipped.

“I know, I know,” he soothed, resting a hand lightly on your shoulder. “But let’s just take a little break, yeah? Maybe grab a coffee?” His tone was calm, almost coaxing.

You sighed but nodded, following him out of the aisle. Matt guided you toward the store’s café area, then paused. “Wait here for a sec. I’ll be right back.” he said, gently having you sit down in a more secluded part.

Before you could protest, he disappeared. A few moments later, he returned with a small shopping bag in hand and a soft hoodie draped over his arm. He handed it to you with a sheepish smile. “I, uh, noticed something earlier. Thought this might make you feel more comfortable.”

Then It clicked in your head, and you felt the heat rise to your cheeks. “Matt—”

“Don’t worry about it,” he cut you off gently, his voice reassuring. “We’ll grab some leggings on the way out. No big deal.”

Tears pricked your eyes — not from embarrassment, but from how thoughtful he was being. Matt caught the look and tilted his head. “Hey, don’t cry,” he said softly, brushing his thumb over your cheek. “You’re good, okay? you’ll get through this, and then I’ll take you home to chill. Sound good?”

Chris …

You had been dragging your feet through the store, annoyed at everything around you. Chris kept glancing your way, unsure how to help. He cracked a few jokes, but your stony silence told him they weren’t landing.

When you shifted your weight and tugged at the back of your shirt, Chris immediately clocked something was wrong. His brow furrowed as he looked you over discreetly, catching sight of the faint stain on your pants. His heart squeezed, knowing how upset you might get if he handled this the wrong way.

Chris casually stepped in front of you, blocking anyone else’s view. “Hey, angel,” he said softly, leaning closer. “I think we should hit the car for a minute.”

You frowned, clearly irritated. “Why?” you said, gritting your teeth.

He hesitated, not wanting to embarrass you. “Trust me, it’s just better if we head out for a sec. We can come back if you want.” he said.

The way his voice softened made you suspicious, but you reluctantly agreed. He walked close behind you, shielding you the best he could until you made it to the parking lot.

Once you reached the car, Chris opened the door for you and handed you his sweatshirt. “Here, wrap this around your waist,” he said gently.

Your face fell as realization dawned, and you immediately looked down at your pants. “Oh my god,” you whispered, mortified.

“Hey, hey, it’s not a big deal,” Chris reassured you quickly. He crouched down so he was eye-level with you, his hands resting lightly on your hips. “This happens, okay? — I know how this works. No one saw, and I’ve got your back.”

You looked at him, your lip trembling. “I’m so over today,” you muttered.

Chris gave you a small smile. “I know, angel. Let’s get you some fresh clothes and head home. We can throw on your favorite movie, and I’ll grab all the snacks you want. Sound good?”

You nodded, and Chris leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “We’ve got this,” he murmured. “Don’t even stress.”

© STRNILOLOVER

[marscardigan]

stay

joel miller x reader

Not a lot, just forever universe

Summary: You can't keep secrets from Joel. Not even the ones you try to hide the best.

Warnings: Pregnancy, talks of death.

Being Joel Miller's controversial young girlfriend was not on your bucket list for that year. 

You were a nurse at the firelights camp when he came with Tess to take a girl to the other side of the states. You didn't plan to join them, let alone stay after he successfully failed his mission. You were with him when he lost Bill, Frank and Tess, and you understood he couldn't' bear losing Ellie. So you helped him. You helped his selfish decision because you knew he was a selfless person. And he deserved some happiness, even if this happiness meant risking losing the only change in order to get a cure to this sick world. 

When you got back to Jackson, you knew Joel looked at you differently. At least that's what Ellie told you. Little did she know, during the trip there may have been some stolen glances between the two of you. It was easy falling in love with him. So when he asked you on your first real date together, how could you decline?

A month later, the three of you were already living together. You were a really anxious person, and since forever, everyone's opinion has mattered to you. People loved to talk about the two of you behind your back, and even though it did kind of hurt you, the look of love that Joel gave you every time you two locked gazes—all those awful comments were worth it. Hell, everything was worth it. You started to not give a fuck about what people commented on the streets. You only cared about the little family you founded.

It wasn't until you just made yourself comfortable about everything that had changed since you came to Jackson, that something else had to go misguided. Not only was your period late, but pretty sure you were in fact growing a baby in your belly. You could tell, you have helped so many women to get through the pregnancy during those hard times, and even knowing everything that had to be done, you were terrified. Although you and Joel were at a very good point in your relationship, and Ellie was starting to get comfortable around Jackson, you didn't think to be capable of doing this next step. You always wanted to be a mother, to have a baby with Joel's eyes and smile. But, still, all of you were just starting to get comfortable after everything you went through. You knew all too well about Sarah and about his fear with Ellie. You wouldn't give him more burden; you couldn't do that. 

So you just kept it hidden. Stealing his clothes, making up excuses about your period, visiting secretly the town doctor to check on the baby. It all had worked so well if he hadn't found out the way he did. 

"Tell me you're lying." He threw the paper at the table.

"I swear I was going to tell you, Joel, I swear." 

For as long as you've known him, you could always read his facade easily. But this time, you couldn't. You could see anger and disappointment, but mostly fear. 

"Bullshit." He said your name with a trembling voice. "How far are you?"

"Around fourteen weeks, maybe more" You mumbled. "Listen to me, I-"

"No, you listen to me right now" He got closer to you, leaving the paper with the medical revision of the week. He did sound angry, but concern blinded his eyes. "You cannot expect this to happen if you don't have the enough trust to tell me in the first place that you are expecting" 

"You don't understand. I did try to tell you, but I have been busy enough freaking the fuck out. You know how scared I am? You know how many women I have seen die because these conditions are miserable? How many motherless children have I greeted to this world because they didn't make it? How many babies...?" You weren't able to finish that sentence, but by how Joel's gaze softened, you knew he understood. He grabbed your hand, leaving the paper behind. "I don't know if I will be even able to make it." It was all that you could whisper. 

Even if he was mad at you, it felt refreshing to say all those thoughts out loud. 

"No, no, don't say that, bug" He sat you down in the chair, kneeling in front of you. "You... you will make it out. We will make it out." He put his bare hands in your thighs. "You are a very strong woman. You are capable of this."

"I don't know..."

"Well, I do know." He whispered. "I just wish you told me sooner, those are some news"

You giggled. "I don't know why I was so scared to tell you, I've always believed you would stay, though."

"Of course, I will stay," He answered, slightly offended. "We will make it out, mark my words,"

"I didn't expect less from you."

Wait till Ellie finds out; she will be BAWLING

[2amriize]

.ᐟ RIIZE scenario: coming home for holidays with them ༉‧₊˚.

req: could you do riize coming home with you for the holidays? i thought it would be cute!!

pairing: bf!riize x reader— masterlist

⭑.ᐟ shotaro

He’d be super excited to spend the holidays with your family. He hadn’t gotten to know them very well during your time together, but he loved the idea of bonding with them. Your family adored him, so much so that sometimes you felt like your dad liked him more than his own kids. Every chance he got, your dad would strike up a conversation with Shotaro. You often found the two chatting, so you’d grab him by the arm and pull him away.

"Spend time with me instead; it feels like you hang out with my dad more than with me..."

⭑.ᐟ eunseok

The moment your siblings approached Eunseok, you realized it had been a mistake to bring him home for the holidays. You had thought it would be fun to spend time together at your childhood home and with your family. But every chance they got, your siblings would start sharing embarrassing stories from your past. Eunseok, though he tried not to laugh, couldn’t help but let out a chuckle here and there. By the end of the trip, he’d know all about your past and wouldn’t hesitate to tease you about the stories your siblings had shared.

⭑.ᐟ sungchan

Sungchan got pretty nervous at the thought of spending an entire week at your house with your family. At first, it was awkward, and he didn’t quite know how to act. He was even afraid to hold your hand. But your family worked hard to include him in all the activities, as they adored him and wanted him to feel comfortable. In no time, he became like another member of the family. You couldn’t help but smile every time he excitedly ran over to tell you about a conversation he’d just had with one of your family members.

⭑.ᐟ wonbin

Oh, he’d be so nervous. Despite being kind and good-natured, Wonbin could be a bit shy and awkward around your family since he wasn’t sure how to interact with them. When you first brought up the idea of spending the holidays together, he hesitated, but seeing how much it meant to you, he eventually agreed. Knowing how nervous he was, you decided to spend time not just with your family but also exploring your hometown. You showed him all the places you loved as a child or had told him stories about. He absolutely loved the plan, and it helped him feel more at ease.

⭑.ᐟ seunghan

Seunghan couldn’t have been more thrilled when he heard your family wanted you to invite him to spend the holidays. He loved spending time with them, but what excited him even more was the idea of spending so much time with you, in the same house. He’d always heard about your family’s tradition of decorating the Christmas tree together, and it was something he was really looking forward to. Since it was his first time at your house, your family let him place the star on top of the tree, a memory he wouldn’t stop cherishing. Your entire family absolutely adored him.

⭑.ᐟ sohee

When you planned for Sohee to spend Christmas at your house, you hadn’t considered the fact that your siblings would also be there. Sohee was already nervous about spending the holidays with your family, especially since your siblings were known to be quite protective of you. Both of you expected them to be serious and strict, keeping an eye on his every move. But to your surprise, they seemed to fall for his charm almost instantly, treating him better than they treated you!

⭑.ᐟ anton

Anton felt a lot of pressure about spending so much time with your family. Even though they already knew him, he’d never actually lived with them, so he wasn’t sure how to act. You told your mom about his nerves, and she decided to have Anton help her in the kitchen to get him involved and chatting more. Anton agreed, but your mom soon realized how bad he was at cooking and ended up kicking him out of the kitchen.

"Do you think she hates me?" "Of course not, babe, she loves you..."

masterlist // taglist: @regularsuh @gacktsa @totheseok @kkumistars @taroddori @enhacolor @ladylilith @electric-hearts @astrobymarwa @layluv123 @sunflowers1610 @nctrawberries @synkjellies @ramyeonzprincess @yuzuksi

[seitmai]

I absolutely loved this and therefore many thoughts and things to say lol

“It’s just a turkey neck,” he said, holding it closer to you. You jumped back. “I will throat punch you if you touch me with that.” He laughed, edging it closer, and you raised a fist. There was a reason a condition of you hosting everyone for Friendsgiving was someone else cleaning the turkey. “Didn’t take you for being squeamish.” “You would be, too, if your grandpa chased you around the house with it when you were a kid, and you had to lock yourself in a bathroom to escape.” At his barked laugh, you shook your head. “I told that to my ex, and he thought it was funny to put it in his zipper and chase me around the house with it. If floppy dick isn’t attractive, a turkey neck sure as shit isn’t.” 

I did not have those experiences and still think it's gross so I get it haha

Bradley choked on a laugh. For as prim and proper as you were at times - hence the callsign Duchess - you sometimes reminded everyone that you also had a military sense of humor. “Maybe you just haven’t seen the right ‘floppy dick,’” he smirked, dropping the neck into the trash. Shrugging, you glanced away from him when the oven beeped, alerting that it was preheated. “You’re right. Bob probably has a pretty one.” A rosy flush crept up his cheeks as he turned back to the turkey and forced a laugh. Bradley didn’t want to hear that you were thinking about Bob’s dick.

“You know, you could have saved a lot of time if you’d just agreed to let Hangman fry the turkey.” That made you snort. “I just finished my renovations - the last thing I want is for my house to burn down.”

Valid haha

“It looks good, Duch,” he said softly, gaze holding yours for a long moment. You felt those inconvenient butterflies again and shoved them aside, dropping your eyes to the cutting board. Bradley wasn’t for you. You were too different - he enjoyed nights out at the bar, while you liked to spend time at home. He liked being the center of attention while you preferred to blend into the background. Besides, he didn’t seem much like a relationship guy, given the number of flings he had at the Hard Deck, while the idea of casual dating gave you hives.

I'm just saying: opposites attract🤷🏻‍♀️

“Alright, what can I do?”  “You don’t - ” “Lemme help.” His eyes met yours, smiling when you sighed.

My usual answer is: you know what would really help me? You getting out of the kitchen lmao

“I’m doing it, Duch,” he cut you off. “Well, remember that if it turns out dry.”

Oh and she would not let him forget this and let anyone else know whose fault the dry turkey is 😅

“I want to help. I haven’t…” his eyes dropped to the floor as he shrugged. “I never got to do this before. My mom and I would always go to my cousin’s for Thanksgiving before she died, and it always seemed kinda fun.”

🥺🥺🥺

“Did you make these?” he asked, setting the containers beside you as you heated a skillet on the stove. “I did - family tradition is grilled muffins on Thanksgiving morning. You okay with blueberry?” At his nod, you started slicing muffins in half. Rather than giving you space, Bradley stayed at your elbow. A comfortable silence fell, broken only by sizzling butter. His gaze met yours when you glanced up at him, and a smile tugged at his mouth. 

I just know he is so fascinated that Fuch made all of the stuff from scratch 🤭

You nearly jumped out of your skin when he reached up to shift a strand of hair that had fallen from your messy bun. “I’m glad you're back, Duch,” he said, voice slightly raspy. Forcing a laugh, you plated two muffins and handed them to him. “Everyone misses the mom friend of the group when she’s deployed.” Your eyes darted to his stomach when it growled again, just in time to see the front of his sweats twitch. Pretending you didn’t see it, you nodded to the living room.

Good god I can feel the electricity in the air between them just reading this 😮‍💨

“You know, stuff you’d need once you get married?” When his eyebrows shot up, you shrugged. “They weren’t really serious about it - it was more of a joke. But, every once in a while, they’d buy something for us and put it away for when we were older and say it was for our hope chest.” Taking a bite of muffin, you gave him a sad smile, “Mine’s more of a ‘hopeless’ chest,’ though. I guess they finally gave up on me getting married because they gave it to me when they sold their house and moved closer to the grandkids. I figured I’d get it out and use it instead of having it sit in the cardboard boxes it’s been in for over two decades.” Something passed over Bradley’s face but disappeared in an instant.

Not the self-deprecating humor 🥲

“It’s a lot of work.” “It is,” you agreed. “But it’s worth it.” Bradley’s fingers curled around his plate and in his sweatpants, his chest expanding as he took a deep breath. When he shifted forward, you quickly stood and reached out your hand for his empty plate. “Do you want another one?” Shaking his head, he stood and took your plate. 

I 100% get it! Making food for someone is definitely a love language! 🫶🏻

Friends. That’s what friends do for each other. After all, he did the same for Nat. 

Does he though? Like that? 🤔

Sooner than you expected, there was a knock at the door. Groaning, you capped your mascara, shimmied into your black sheath cocktail dress, and went to answer it. Bradley stood on the porch, having changed into a pair of slacks and one of his nicer Hawaiian shirts, hands in his pockets.

Of course he wears a Hawaiian shirt lmao

“There’s a hook and eye at the top,” you said and inhaled sharply when you felt his fingers brush the back of your neck. The smell of his cologne enveloped you, and you bit back a moan when his hand moved to your lower back and tugged the zipper up. After a beat, you turned to face him and were surprised by how close he was. His mouth curved into a smile as he looked down at you, hand resting on your waist. “You look fine, too,” he said softly. Your hands itched to move to his chest. Bradley’s eyes drifted to your lips, and your breath caught as his fingers flexed around you. If asked, you would have sworn you felt the lightest pressure pulling you closer - but then someone knocked on the door.

Their chemistry ia off the charts⚡️⚡️⚡️

“What are you doing here?”  “Same as you - seeing of Duch needed help.” “The guy who hates cooking is in charge of the main dish?” Nat smirked.

Hahah Nat is like:

You could feel Nat watching as you worked together to remove the turkey and then return it to the oven, popping olives into her mouth and smirking. “Looks like you guys have it down,” she said. “Don’t need my help at all.”

Oh she knows hahaha

“Thanks for doing this,” he said, glancing over at your full house. Aviators were sprawled across your living room and spilled out into the backyard. It was exactly what you’d hoped for when redesigning the house - plenty of space to comfortably entertain.  “Want me to get the turkey out for you?” “I’ve got it covered,” a voice said behind you, and you couldn’t help but wonder about Bradley's slightly sharp tone as you pulled away from the hug. “Got it,” Payback replied, raising an eyebrow and lifting his hands.

The knight in shining armor🤭

“Mav’s already told me I’m spending it with him and Penny.”

Hahaha everything about this wording is hilarious and spot on 😂

“Who would have thought the guy who made the barracks evacuate after he burned ramen would make a good turkey,” Nat smirked. Bradley flipped her off, unable to keep the proud grin off his face. 

Hahah he deserved that though 😅

“Relax, I’ve got it. Can the plates go in here, or do they need to be hand-washed?” “They can go in there.” Ignoring the order, you walked around the house, picked up empty glasses and forgotten dishes, and set them by the sink.

Good for you Rooster! That's very considerate, ai respect that

When the door swung shut, you took the opportunity to stretch, moaning when your back popped before bending at the waist and letting your arms dangle. As much as you enjoyed hosting, your body took a beating, being on your feet all day. You would definitely need to invest in some mats to make the kitchen floor more comfortable before your next full day of cooking. 

I can feel this in my bones 🥲

“Rooster.” Your hands rested on his forearms, feeling the muscles flex as his fingers clenched around your hips. Taking a deep breath, you felt your chest brush his. His lips quirked into a wry smile. “What?”  “Just waiting for something to interrupt.” At your questioning look, he chuckled. “Been trying to kiss you all day, and something always gets in the way.” 

🥹🥹🥹

“When you told me you liked me.” Mortified, you felt a sudden flush of heat and tried to pull away, but he held firm. “But that you didn’t think I was a relationship guy.”  “Roo - ” “I am. A relationship guy,” he clarified, tongue darting out to wet his lips. “For the right woman.” Your mouth was dry, unable to force out a single word. “I was gonna say something before you left, but you avoided me. And then you were gone for three months.”

That is so freaking cute 🥹🥰

“Honey, I’m not interested in her. And she’s not… ask Nat. She’s been on my case about my” - he lifted a hand to make air quotes - “‘hoe phase’ since I got out here.”

Of course she is 😅

Moving slowly, as though afraid to spook you, Bradley leaned down and brushed his nose to yours. “As much as this is doin’ things for me,” he said softly, pulling at the apron strings tied at your stomach, “I think we’re done in the kitchen tonight.” Biting your lip, you could only nod, leaning away as he tugged it over your head, balled the apron up, and tossed it behind you. With his hands back on your hips, he walked you backward and lifted you onto the counter, stepping between your knees. “This alright?” 

1. Bradley definitely has a Housewife kink lmao

2. I just love the checking it, makes my knees weak every time 🥰

Pulling away, you smiled tentatively down at him, seeing the remnants of your lipstick on his mouth. The corners of his eyes crinkled when he smiled, and you leaned forward to press your lips to them. “Hi,” you said softly. “Hey.” 

I just adore little moments like this 🥰

“No more ‘hoe phase.’” “Maybe just one more night?” That made him laugh again as he shook his head. “No, Duch. Wanna do this right with you.” 

🥹🥹🥹

“Liked that, huh?” he teased. “Ms. Prim and Proper Duchess likes to be bossed around?” Heat flooded your face, and he chuckled again. Without warning, he stood, and you squeaked, trying to keep from falling. But he held you steady and set you on your feet, towering over you. “Can I stay over?” You didn’t hesitate in nodding, and his kiss was rough before he pulled away and swatted your ass. “Go get ready for bed while I lock up.”

It feel like they instantly fit together 🥰

Eventually, though, you could no longer keep from yawning. After setting his alarm - Bradley was on duty in the morning while you’d taken the day off - he tucked you against him, your back to his chest. His cock pressed against your ass as he kissed your shoulder, hand slipping under your shirt to brush the underside of your breast. Sighing, he murmered, “Best Thanksgiving I’ve had in a long time.” You couldn’t help but agree.

 “You want me to wear sweats to bed?” you asked, leaning against the doorframe and raising an eyebrow. His hand drifted down to his hard cock, squeezing lightly. “You’ve seen me in less at the beach.” “Trying to do this right, honey.” Rolling your eyes, you walked to your dresser and pulled on sweatpants before digging out a pair of fuzzy socks. He laughed when you tossed them at his head, setting them aside as you circled the bed to lie beside him. Quickly, he pinned you beneath him, settling in the cradle of your thighs. As he licked into your mouth, you felt his hips rolling against yours. “Still too damn sexy,” he murmured against your lips.  “Housewife lingerie does it for you?” you teased, running your hands through his hair. Rather than answer, he looped an arm under your knee and drew it up, allowing you to feel him better. “Fuck.”

🤭🤭🤭

This was just so cute and perfect! 🫶🏻 if you ever feel up to it I would love to read more of Duchess and Bradley, maybe their first Christmas together 🤔

Rooster wasn't for you. You were opposites in so many ways - he was an extrovert to your introvert. The center of attention to your wallflower. You weren't interested in a one night stand, and he couldn't offer more. So his volunteering to help with Friendsgiving was just a friendly gesture after you returned from a deployment...right?

Word count: 7.8K

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

“Just a minute!” you called, swiping a strand of hair from your face. The knocking stopped, and you quickly washed the flour from your hands, drying them on the towel thrown over your shoulder while heading to the door.

And there, standing on your front step as the sun started to rise, was Bradley. His normally styled curls were sleep-mussed, his grey t-shirt clinging to his arms and untucked from his Navy PT sweatpants. The smile on his face grew as he took you in - sweatpants, a baggy sweatshirt dotted with flour, fuzzy socks, and not a stitch of makeup. The difference from your normally put-together appearance was stark. “Morning, Duch.”

“You’re late.” Laughing, he held up a bag of microwavable frozen corn.

“Had to turn around when I forgot my contribution.” Rolling your eyes, you stepped back to let him in, watching to ensure he removed his shoes before following you into the kitchen.

“The turkey’s already thawed and in the sink. I just need you to clean it out, and I can take it from there.” Bradley nodded, tossing you the corn before going to the kitchen. You put it in the freezer and walked to the downstairs bathroom to wash your hands before resuming your spot at the counter, picking up your bread lame and staring at the unbaked loaf. A part of you wanted to do a simple score, knowing that it would just be eaten, but the hostess in you demanded a more intricate design. The indecision tore at you. To buy time, you sprinkled the top with more rice flour. 

“Can you get me the trashcan?” Bradley asked, and you nodded, quickly abandoning your project. After you set it beside him and pulled off the cover, he tossed the netting and plastic. You couldn’t help but notice his biceps flex as he shifted the turkey. But you shrunk back when he reached into the cavity and pulled out the giblets and gravy package, shaking your head at his raised eyebrow. He discarded them as you braced yourself, nose scrunching when he removed the neck. “You alright there, Duch?” he teased. 

“Gross.” 

“It’s just a turkey neck,” he said, holding it closer to you. You jumped back.

“I will throat punch you if you touch me with that.” He laughed, edging it closer, and you raised a fist. There was a reason a condition of you hosting everyone for Friendsgiving was someone else cleaning the turkey.

“Didn’t take you for being squeamish.” 

“You would be, too, if your grandpa chased you around the house with it when you were a kid, and you had to lock yourself in a bathroom to escape.” At his barked laugh, you shook your head. “I told that to my ex, and he thought it was funny to put it in his zipper and chase me around the house with it. If floppy dick isn’t attractive, a turkey neck sure as shit isn’t.” 

Bradley choked on a laugh. For as prim and proper as you were at times - hence the callsign Duchess - you sometimes reminded everyone that you also had a military sense of humor. “Maybe you just haven’t seen the right ‘floppy dick,’” he smirked, dropping the neck into the trash. 

Shrugging, you glanced away from him when the oven beeped, alerting that it was preheated. “You’re right. Bob probably has a pretty one.” A rosy flush crept up his cheeks as he turned back to the turkey and forced a laugh. Bradley didn’t want to hear that you were thinking about Bob’s dick. “Put it in this afterward, and I’ll dry it.” After dropping the roasting pan beside him, you rewashed your hands.

Standing in front of your bread, you bit your lip to keep from giggling as you contemplated scoring a dick into the dough but decided to go with a traditional wheat stalk. To your surprise, he grabbed the roll of paper towels by the sink and patted the turkey dry, even the cavity. As you removed the Dutch oven from the preheated oven, he tied up the trash bag and took it out. After putting the bread into the oven, you set the timer and moved to the sink, glancing at Bradley when he came back in. Standing beside you, he reached for the soap and lowered the water temperature before scrubbing his hands. Removing the hand towel from your shoulder, you draped it over his after drying your hands. “Thanks,” he murmured. 

“Thanks for taking care of the turkey.” Standing by the island, you crouched to retrieve a cutting board. The sound of other cabinets closing made you peek over the countertop to see him rooting through the overhead storage. “Are you looking for something?” 

“Coffee mugs.” Biting back a retort about making himself comfortable, you pointed to the right of the stove. You bit your tongue when he grabbed two mugs - including your favorite - and went to the wet bar where the full pot was finished brewing. Placing the cutting board on the counter, you grabbed a knife from the block and were surprised to see a mug of coffee beside your workstation. Murmuring your thanks, you grabbed the creamer from the fridge along with packages of herbs and butter. “What are you making?” Bradley asked.

“A marinade since I didn’t brine the turkey.” 

“You want a hand?” 

“I’ve got it,” you said automatically. “I’ve got a schedule.” He didn’t need to know that you were already behind after falling asleep on the couch early last night and forgetting to set your alarm. And he definitely didn’t need to know that you’d only been awake for 20 minutes before he arrived. If you put your head down and focused, everything would still be ready to eat at the agreed-upon 3:00 PM. Some of your time to get yourself ready would just have to be sacrificed. For some reason, you’d insisted that everyone dress nicely for Friendsgiving. Wearing a uniform almost every day didn’t give you any opportunities to dress up, and sometimes it felt nice to wear something other than jeans and a t-shirt. 

Setting your tablet up, you navigated through the bookmarked recipes and rinsed the herbs before pulling them from the stems. Bradley leaned against the counter beside you and sipped his coffee while glancing around the kitchen. Seeing him relaxing there, one leg crossed over the other and looking like he’d just rolled out of bed, made something flutter in your chest. 

“You know, you could have saved a lot of time if you’d just agreed to let Hangman fry the turkey.”

That made you snort. “I just finished my renovations - the last thing I want is for my house to burn down.” It had taken months to get your home exactly how you wanted it. After twelve years in the Navy, you were ready to put down some roots, and buying a home had seemed like the smart thing to do. Living in a construction zone for the last year hadn’t been fun, but a well-timed deployment meant you weren’t there for the worst of it. The results were worth the pain, and you’d jumped at the chance to host when you got back and realized most of the squad had no plans for Thanksgiving. You couldn’t wait for them to see the changes in the Craftsman that had been a definite fixer-upper when you purchased it. The kitchen had been completely gutted and replaced with double ovens and quartz countertops, and the smaller kitchen island had been moved and changed to a wet bar with a wine fridge, replaced with an oversized one. The popcorn texture was scraped from the ceiling throughout the house, the floors redone, and the walls painted. The primary bath had been updated with a large soaker tub and walk-in shower, and you loved the giant closet. The guest bathrooms still needed work, as did the yard, but those were projects for later. 

“It looks good, Duch,” he said softly, gaze holding yours for a long moment. You felt those inconvenient butterflies again and shoved them aside, dropping your eyes to the cutting board. Bradley wasn’t for you. You were too different - he enjoyed nights out at the bar, while you liked to spend time at home. He liked being the center of attention while you preferred to blend into the background. Besides, he didn’t seem much like a relationship guy, given the number of flings he had at the Hard Deck, while the idea of casual dating gave you hives. Pushing away from the counter, Bradley reached under the sink for a trashbag, putting it into the can before washing his hands. He moved closer, nose twitching slightly at the scent of rosemary, and braced his big hands on the countertop beside you. “Alright, what can I do?” 

“You don’t - ”

“Lemme help.” His eyes met yours, smiling when you sighed. 

“Fine. The meat injector is in here,” you said, bumping one of the drawer handles with your hip. “And I’ll need the chicken stock from the pantry.” Pouring the stock, herbs, and a couple of sticks of butter into a stockpan, you handed Bradley a silicone spatula and told him to stir. You rolled your lips together to keep from smiling when he pulled his phone from his pocket and watched videos of turkey injections before declaring he would be in charge of it. Reluctantly, you agreed. Once the marinade had cooled, the bird was given a second drying, you had finished the coffee, and Bradley had rewatched the video three times, it was time. He studied the turkey through narrowed eyes as you tried not to laugh. “You want to - ”

“Ah!”

“The breast and thighs - ”

“I’m doing it, Duch,” he cut you off. 

“Well, remember that if it turns out dry.” The unimpressed look Bradley shot you made you grin as you put your chin in your hand and motioned for him to proceed. The tip of his tongue poked through his lips as he filled the injector and hovered the needle over the turkey. His eyes darted to you, and you raised an eyebrow. “You can tap out at any time, Rooster.” Instead of replying, he pierced the meat and pushed down on the plunger. You couldn’t help but laugh when he yelped, marinade spraying in his face after pushing too hard. But when he reached to wipe it away, you caught his hands. “Don’t put turkey germs all over your face,” you scoffed, towing him toward the sink. You held his chin while cleaning his face with wet paper towels. 

“Now you’re just messing with me,” he chuckled when you scrubbed his mustache, but he didn’t pull away. His breath was hot on your hand, and his smile soft when you reached up to dab away a speck of garlic in his eyebrow. Balling up the paper towel, you shook your head. 

“Wash your face with soap to make sure you don’t get salmonella. Cyclone’ll kill me if you’re out with food poisoning.” Turning on the water, you ensured it was warm before getting a clean washcloth. The oven timer beeped as you dug through the linen closet, and you hurried back into the kitchen, throwing the towel on the sink beside him and grabbing the pot holders to take out your bread. Once it was on the wire rack to cool, you moved to the turkey. 

“What’re you doing?” Bradley demanded, turning while drying his face. 

“Taking over.” You gasped when he closed the space between you in a few strides, wrapped his arm around your waist, and lifted you away from the counter. “Bradshaw! What the hell?”

“Told you I’m doing it,” he chuckled in your ear. Once back on your feet, you spun in his hold and stared at him. Butterflies erupted in your stomach at his cocky smirk. 

“Fine, but if you waste more of my marinade, you’re out of my kitchen.”

“Deal.” 

Thankfully, there were no further incidents, but you kept a close eye on him while slicing up a loaf of bread you’d baked two days before and let go stale for stuffing. After covering the roasting tray with tin foil, the bird went back into the fridge to rest for a few hours. “Thanks, Rooster. I guess I’ll see you later?”

“What else can I do?” 

“You don’t - ” 

“I want to help. I haven’t…” his eyes dropped to the floor as he shrugged. “I never got to do this before. My mom and I would always go to my cousin’s for Thanksgiving before she died, and it always seemed kinda fun.” 

Everyone on the squad knew that Bradley’s parents had passed when he was young. He didn’t mention them often, but you noticed he’d get quiet sometimes when people talked about their families. So his volunteering the information felt important, and glancing at the clock showed that you were still behind schedule. “Fine.”

“Yeah?” he asked, excitement flashing in his eyes. 

“Don’t look so happy - you’re doing prep work. You can peel potatoes, assemble the veggie tray, and roast the garlic. I need to work on sides and desserts.” 

And he did. Bradley followed your instructions, grimacing while peeling potatoes over the trash can until you took out a plastic bag and put it in the sink for him to do it there. You kept an eye on him as he cut the spuds into uniform pieces after explaining that they wouldn’t cook evenly for the mashed potatoes, somewhat worried that he would cut himself. Rather than deal with the onions, you delegated the task and tried not to laugh at his near-constant sniffles and swipes at his watery eyes as you diced peppers. Once you dug out the hand-me-down crystal platters, he arranged the veggies you’d prepped the night before while making pies. Dips were mixed, and cans of olives and bottles of pickles were opened and drained before being plated.

Other than bumping into one another when going for the fridge at the same time, it wasn’t too bad sharing the kitchen. The coffee pot was quickly emptied, and Bradley brewed another between shredding blocks of cheese. You sang along with your playlists, his deep voice joining on a few songs while teasing you about others. When you sang about karma being a kink, he watched your hips sway at the sink, clenching his jaw when you sang a breathy ‘oh god.’ 

He slid the roasting tray into the oven when the turkey was rested and ready to cook. “Now what?” he asked, turning to look at you. 

“Now we keep an eye on it for about four hours. Baste and re-inject it every hour or so,” you shrugged. A glance at his watch showed it would be almost 2:00 PM by the time it was ready. As though realizing it would still be hours before eating, his stomach grumbled its discontent. He blushed when you smirked. “I guess the least I can do is make my sous chef breakfast. Get the muffins and butter from the fridge for me.”  

“Did you make these?” he asked, setting the containers beside you as you heated a skillet on the stove.

“I did - family tradition is grilled muffins on Thanksgiving morning. You okay with blueberry?” At his nod, you started slicing muffins in half. Rather than giving you space, Bradley stayed at your elbow. A comfortable silence fell, broken only by sizzling butter. His gaze met yours when you glanced up at him, and a smile tugged at his mouth. 

An image of reaching up to bury your fingers in his messy curls and tugging his mouth down to meet yours flashed through your mind. Your fingers twitched with the urge to do it, eyes drifting to his mouth and lingering there for a moment too long. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, and you forced yourself to look away, heat creeping into your face. 

You nearly jumped out of your skin when he reached up to shift a strand of hair that had fallen from your messy bun. “I’m glad you're back, Duch,” he said, voice slightly raspy. 

Forcing a laugh, you plated two muffins and handed them to him. “Everyone misses the mom friend of the group when she’s deployed.” Your eyes darted to his stomach when it growled again, just in time to see the front of his sweats twitch. Pretending you didn’t see it, you nodded to the living room. “The parade is recording if you want to watch it.” 

Bradley opened his mouth as though he would say something before taking the apparent dismissal. Alone in the kitchen, you touched your cheek and felt warm skin. With a deep breath, you grilled yourself a muffin as the sound of the broadcasters came from the living room. After topping up your coffee, you joined him. He sprawled on one end of the couch, plate balanced on a thigh as he sipped his coffee. Sitting on the opposite side, you crossed your legs and let out a soft groan. Only a couple of hours standing in the kitchen and your back was already starting to protest. “What else do you have to do this morning?” he asked after a moment.

Mentally running through your list, you sighed. “I need to do some cleaning and get into the attic. I’ll start cooking a bit closer to noon, so things just have to be warmed up.”

“What do you need from the attic?” 

“My nice china. My parents bought my sister and I sets for our hope chests when we were kids.”

“What’s a hope chest?”

“You know, stuff you’d need once you get married?” When his eyebrows shot up, you shrugged. “They weren’t really serious about it - it was more of a joke. But, every once in a while, they’d buy something for us and put it away for when we were older and say it was for our hope chest.” Taking a bite of muffin, you gave him a sad smile, “Mine’s more of a ‘hopeless’ chest,’ though. I guess they finally gave up on me getting married because they gave it to me when they sold their house and moved closer to the grandkids. I figured I’d get it out and use it instead of having it sit in the cardboard boxes it’s been in for over two decades.” Something passed over Bradley’s face but disappeared in an instant. Wanting to change the subject, you asked, “What do you usually do for Thanksgiving?”

“Nothing. It’s just another Thursday.” When you frowned, he lifted a shoulder. “A couple of times, I went to the Officer’s Club, or someone would invite me over. But most of the time, I just make myself a turkey sandwich and catch up on sleep. What about you?”

“If I’m not with my family, then this. When I first commissioned, I went to the O-Club with some friends but missed cooking and hanging out. And you know how hard it is to go home for the holidays.” He nodded even though he didn’t. Bradley never asked for the time off unless he was dating someone who insisted on it. With no family to visit, he was happy to volunteer when there was reduced manning and allow others to take leave. “So I invited a couple of people from my squad over, and that was that.” 

“It’s a lot of work.”

“It is,” you agreed. “But it’s worth it.” Bradley’s fingers curled around his plate and in his sweatpants, his chest expanding as he took a deep breath. When he shifted forward, you quickly stood and reached out your hand for his empty plate. “Do you want another one?” Shaking his head, he stood and took your plate. 

“Do you?” Swallowing hard, you shook your head and watched him walk back into the kitchen. Biting back a groan, you gave yourself a moment to collect yourself. Things had been…different… since you’d gotten home. And as much as you enjoyed these quiet moments alone with Bradley, it also stung. You’d thought the time away would help, but as soon as you were back, it was like no time had passed. He was still there, partnering for foosball in the Ready Room and coaxing you to go to the Hard Deck. Making sure that you sat next to him in briefings. Offering to look at your car when it made a noise.

Friends. That’s what friends do for each other. After all, he did the same for Nat. 

Collecting the empty coffee mugs, you followed him to the kitchen and watched as Bradley cleaned up the mess and set it in the sink. “Don’t feel like you have to stick around, Rooster. I can handle getting everything ready.” 

“I’m happy to help if you want me here. I’d just sit at my house watching TV and wait to come back if I went home.” 

Chewing the inside of your lip, you bit back a wave of want. “Don’t think this gets you out of the dress code,” you replied, forcing your voice to be cool while allowing your eyes to run the length of him. “I’m serious - slacks and button-downs, not sweats.” 

Laughing, he snapped a salute. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll make sure I run home and change to pass your inspection.” 

The rest of the morning was a blur, punctuated by moments of stark clarity. 

Bradley’s hands on your waist as you climbed down the attic stairs. 

Biceps flexing as he carried your Christmas tree to a spare bedroom to set up tomorrow.

His elbow bumping yours as he dried the china and set it aside.  

The look of concentration on his face when he basted and injected the turkey again.

His body passing close to yours as he emptied the dishwasher and you assembled dishes.

Just after noon, he went home to get ready while you showered. People were due to arrive around 1:30 PM, and you were back on schedule with your unexpected assistant. 

Sooner than you expected, there was a knock at the door. Groaning, you capped your mascara, shimmied into your black sheath cocktail dress, and went to answer it. Bradley stood on the porch, having changed into a pair of slacks and one of his nicer Hawaiian shirts, hands in his pockets. Folded over his arm was a coat, and he grinned at you when he caught you looking at it. “Wasn’t sure if I would pass inspection without a sports coat,” he chuckled, allowing his gaze to rake over you. A flush rose on your cheeks as you reached behind yourself to pull up the dress zipper. It caught just above the top of your thong.  “You look… you’re fine.” Chuckling, he shook his head. 

“Turn around, Duch.” After a beat, you stepped back to allow him inside and did as he said.

“There’s a hook and eye at the top,” you said and inhaled sharply when you felt his fingers brush the back of your neck. The smell of his cologne enveloped you, and you bit back a moan when his hand moved to your lower back and tugged the zipper up. After a beat, you turned to face him and were surprised by how close he was. His mouth curved into a smile as he looked down at you, hand resting on your waist. 

“You look fine, too,” he said softly. Your hands itched to move to his chest. Bradley’s eyes drifted to your lips, and your breath caught as his fingers flexed around you. If asked, you would have sworn you felt the lightest pressure pulling you closer - but then someone knocked on the door. Stepping out of his hold, you smoothed your hair down and ignored the brief moment his hands hung in suspension before being shoved back into his pockets. 

“I came early to see if you needed a hand,” Phoenix said when you opened the door. In her hands was a tray, and she’d also chosen a cocktail dress for the occasion. Her normally tied-back hair was loose around her shoulders. 

“Hey,” you smiled, hoping that you weren’t blushing. Nat’s eyes shifted over your shoulders and narrowed slightly. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“Same as you - seeing of Duch needed help.”

“He’s been here all morning,” you blurted out, flushing when both sets of eyes landed on you. “He’s taking care of the turkey.” 

“The guy who hates cooking is in charge of the main dish?” Nat smirked. “Probably would have been better letting Hangman fry it.”

“He’s being supervised,” you assured, glancing over your shoulder to see him rolling his eyes. Stepping back to let Nat into the house, you accidentally bumped into Bradley, who held your hips to steady you. Quickly moving away from his touch, you took the tray from her and motioned for them to follow you into the kitchen. “I haven’t had a chance to put any drinks out, but there’s some coffee left and wine chilling. I still need to make the cocktails, but there’s also soda and flavored water.” The two followed you, exchanging a look that you missed.

As soon as he entered the kitchen, Bradley tossed his coat onto the wet bar and moved to the oven, flipping on the light to check the turkey before glancing at his watch. “I need to do the last basting, right?” 

“It’s about that time,” you agreed, glancing at the clock. Digging through a drawer, you pulled out an apron and put it on, crossing the strings behind your back before tying them in a bow across your stomach. You thought you heard a murmured ‘Jesus Christ’ when you turned around to see him holding the pot holders. 

You could feel Nat watching as you worked together to remove the turkey and then return it to the oven, popping olives into her mouth and smirking. “Looks like you guys have it down,” she said. “Don’t need my help at all.”

“Nope,” Bradley said, drowning out your, “You can feel free to relax.” 

“Might as well do something since I’m here,” she shrugged, pushing off her elbows. “What can I do?” 

And so, with a third set of hands, you set them to making large batches of seasonal cocktails while you cut the bread you’d made that morning, covering it with slices of brie and dried cranberries before drizzling it with honey. A quick scroll through your schedule gave you the times to start cooking, and you preheated the second oven.

The house slowly filled as more of the squad arrived. Countertops were quickly covered with their contributions - thankfully, more than beer and wine, and only a few sides repeated -  and you mentally shifted your schedule to accommodate the additional dishes.

Mav, Penny, and Amelia were the last to arrive, with her new bartender, Georgia, in tow. Penny had asked you if she could invite her, given that the woman was new to the area and didn’t have anywhere else to spend the holiday. You’d replied with, “The more, the merrier,” just like you had for everyone else’s requests to bring a guest. 

But you regretted that sentiment when you saw how she zeroed in on Bradley, staying close to him while you worked in the kitchen. The few times you broke away to mingle - showing off your renovated home, making sure that everyone’s glasses were topped off and that they didn’t need anything - you saw her hanging off his arm, giving him a simpering smile that set your teeth on edge. And, while she’d adhered to the dress code, you weren’t exactly thrilled to see that her breasts were nearly spilling out of her low-cut dress. 

“You need anything, Duchess?” Payback asked, setting down the pitcher of spiced ginger pear and bourbon. 

“I’m good,” you replied, wiping your hands on the dish rag thrown over your shoulder and blowing a loose strand of hair from your face. “Turkey should be done in a few minutes; once it rests, we can eat.” 

“Thanks for doing this,” he said, glancing over at your full house. Aviators were sprawled across your living room and spilled out into the backyard. It was exactly what you’d hoped for when redesigning the house - plenty of space to comfortably entertain. 

“I’m happy to, Payback,” you smiled, allowing him to pull you in for a hug. “Beats having a quiet house for the holidays.” 

“Want me to get the turkey out for you?” 

“I’ve got it covered,” a voice said behind you, and you couldn’t help but wonder about Bradley's slightly sharp tone as you pulled away from the hug. 

“Got it,” Payback replied, raising an eyebrow and lifting his hands. “Let me know if you need anything, Duch.” Squaring your shoulders, you turned to face the man behind you and forced a smile. 

“I’ll clear off a spot on the stove for you to put the pan, and then we’ll let it sit for half an hour.” 

“Then it’ll be done?”

“Then you’ll have officially made your first turkey,” you nodded. When the timer went off, Bradley quickly pulled the bird from the oven and set it on the stove, closely inspecting his work. 

“Does it look right?”

“Yes, relax.”

“Did you make it?” a smokey voice asked, and you felt your shoulders rise. Glancing at Georgia, you saw Bradley’s eyes dart between you.

“He did,” you answered, smiling at the woman. 

“I just followed her directions,” he replied. 

“It looks great!” Georgia giggled. Forcing a smile, you undid the apron strings and pulled it off before excusing yourself. You could feel eyes on you as you walked down the hallway to your bedroom and shut the door, retreating to your en suite.

After washing your hands for the millionth time, you quickly applied lotion while examining your appearance in the mirror. Compared to Georgia, you looked matronly with your hair pulled back and a higher neckline. Sure, your dress was classy - somewhat tight and falling just above your knees - but not attention-grabbing. 

Not that you were trying to grab anyone’s attention.

A knock on your bedroom door startled you, and you peeked out to call, “Who is it?”

“Rooster.” Glancing back in the mirror, you saw your cheeks were slightly pink and scowled at your reflection.

“Get it together,” you hissed before turning off the light and going to open the door. And there he was, smiling down at you.

“Your phone was going off,” he said, holding up your cell. When your eyes flitted toward it, the device unlocked to show your family group chat was going off. Taking it from him, you swiped up to see videos and pictures. A smile crept onto your mouth as you clicked the first and heard your older sister’s voice.

“Guess what?” she said before tossing a card down and throwing her hands up. Cheers and laughs broke out, and you could hear your nephew complaining as your grandmother said, “Looks like Mom won!”

The camera panned to show your other nephew licking whipped cream off his pie, utterly unfazed by the family now pounding on the table in a drumroll. Catching Bradley’s interested expression, you moved so he could see the screen. Scrolling through the other videos, you watched your mom roll down a hill with the boys and your dad holding a glass of wine with your brother-in-law. The sight made your heart clench, and you sighed. Being away from family on the holidays was the worst. Thankfully, they all understood that your job didn’t always give you the flexibility to be with them.

“Looks like a fun group.”

“They are. I’m glad I get to spend Christmas with them.” He nodded, a flicker of sadness and something else in his eyes. “What are you doing for Christmas?”

“Mav’s already told me I’m spending it with him and Penny.”

“Sounds like fun.” You knew a complicated dynamic existed there but didn’t want to pry. His shoulder lifted, eyes drifting to your now dark phone. And that’s when you recognized the look on his face - longing. “Hey, you okay?” 

“Yeah, I’m fine.” When he saw your unconvinced expression, he sighed. “Holidays kind of suck when you don’t have family.” 

“I’m sorry, Bradley.” Something in his expression changed when you said his name and reached out to touch his arm. His eyes darted from your hand to your face, and you quickly pulled away. But he was faster, catching your fingers and holding tightly. Your breath caught with the intensity of his gaze, and he stepped into your room. His breath was warm on your face when you refused to retreat. Lifting your chin, you saw his throat bob when he swallowed.  

“Hey, there’s a timer going off,” Bob called down the hall. 

“Be right there,” you yelled back, pushing lightly against Bradley’s chest and forcing space between you. But when you tried to shake off his hand, he held fast. “I need to go, or something will burn,” you breathed. Reluctantly, he nodded and released you. 

You’d already removed the green bean casserole and macaroni and cheese from the oven when Bradley reappeared. Unsurprisingly, Georgia glued herself to his side as he sipped his drink. Though you could feel him looking at you, you refused to meet his gaze. 

When everything was ready, you looked over your kitchen and nodded approvingly. When the guys offered to carve the turkey, you turned them all down and delegated that task to Bradley.  “He earned it,” you said, glancing at him before busying yourself with opening another bottle of wine. With Coyote and Fanboy at his elbows critiquing his cuts, you steered clear of that part of the kitchen and chatted with Penny while pulling out silverware. 

Hangman refused to let you go around the room and tell people that food was ready, instead pulling out a chair and helping you stand on it before whistling loudly to get everyone’s attention. “Dinner’s served!” you said, placing a hand on his shoulder, his arm around your hips to keep you steady. “Thank you for bringing something, and please help yourself. Happy Thanksgiving, everyone - I’m glad I get to spend it with you.” Lifting your wine glass, you took a quick sip and laughed when Hangman lifted you off the chair to set you back on the floor. 

Choosing to wait until your guests had a plate, you leaned against the wet bar and smiled tiredly, watching your hard work be devoured. There weren’t enough chairs for everyone at the table, so the group spread into the living room. You took a few pictures and sent them to your family. 

Someone stepped in front of you, pulling your attention from your phone. “You’re not gonna eat?” Bradley asked. 

“Just waiting for the line to clear,” you replied, forcing a nonchalant tone. The corner of his mouth twitched as he shook his head. 

“Come on, Duch.” His fingers curled around yours, drawing you from the counter and into the line. Grabbing one of the smaller salad plates, you let him push you in front of him, taking small amounts of almost every dish while he served himself larger portions. After topping up your wine, you walked to the living room and felt him behind you, ignoring Georgia's attempt to get his attention. He motioned for you to take the last spot on the couch and sat on the floor. “Jesus,” he moaned after taking the first bite of turkey.

“Mmmm,” you agreed. “You did a good job.”

“Who would have thought the guy who made the barracks evacuate after he burned ramen would make a good turkey,” Nat smirked. Bradley flipped her off, unable to keep the proud grin off his face. 

Dessert was eaten, and the last bottle of wine finished before 7:00 PM. The house felt quiet as it slowly emptied, and you hugged everyone goodbye. Already, tentative plans for a Christmas party formed even as you fought off a yawn. After assuring Penny that you were fine cleaning up, she left with Mav and Amelia in tow. 

Which left only Bradley. 

The sound of running water drew you back into the kitchen, and you paused in the doorway at the sight of him rinsing silverware and loading the dishwasher, a hand towel thrown over his shoulder. “I can take care of that,” you said quickly. Bradley glanced at you and shook his head.

“Relax, I’ve got it. Can the plates go in here, or do they need to be hand-washed?”

“They can go in there.” Ignoring the order, you walked around the house, picked up empty glasses and forgotten dishes, and set them by the sink. Donning your apron, you surveyed the leftovers, “Did you want any of this?”

“Yeah, I’ll take a plate.” Nodding, you started to put the food away. Thankfully, there wasn’t a lot left. Everyone had been happy to take leftovers, and you were glad you’d had the forethought to buy containers for them to keep. 

The silence was comfortable, and you were stifling yawns with the back of your hand. Between the turkey, wine, and lack of sleep the night before, you were ready to change back into comfy clothes and pass out. Without prompting, Bradley started to cut up what was left of the turkey, placing some in the containers you’d portioned for him before putting the rest in the fridge. You started the dishwasher when it was full and wiped down counters. After tossing the rest of the turkey, he took the trash out.

When the door swung shut, you took the opportunity to stretch, moaning when your back popped before bending at the waist and letting your arms dangle. As much as you enjoyed hosting, your body took a beating, being on your feet all day. You would definitely need to invest in some mats to make the kitchen floor more comfortable before your next full day of cooking. 

Even when the door opened, you felt too good stretching to stand up straight. You heard Bradley chuckle and then the sound of water running, followed by the snap of a trashbag being shaken out. Finally, you stood and threw out a hand to steady yourself when the world spun. Hands wrapped around your hips and drew you closer. “You okay, honey?” 

The term of endearment caught you off-guard and had clearly slipped out by the flush on Bradley’s cheeks. “Honey?” you echoed, quirking a brow.

“Duchess,” he corrected. 

“Rooster.” Your hands rested on his forearms, feeling the muscles flex as his fingers clenched around your hips. Taking a deep breath, you felt your chest brush his. His lips quirked into a wry smile. “What?” 

“Just waiting for something to interrupt.” At your questioning look, he chuckled. “Been trying to kiss you all day, and something always gets in the way.” 

“What?” you breathed, shock written across your face. 

“Been thinkin’ about kissing you since that night at the Hard Deck, actually.” 

“T-the Hard Deck?”

“Yup. Before you deployed.” Heat rushed to your face at the memory - or lack thereof - of your going away party. There had been one too many shots, and you had a vague recollection of Bradley driving the Bronco. Of him telling you not to throw up while he helped Nat into her apartment before taking you home. Half carrying you to bed and making sure you had water and medicine - warm hands on your face and a raspy laugh.  

“When I was drunk?”

“When you told me you liked me.” Mortified, you felt a sudden flush of heat and tried to pull away, but he held firm. “But that you didn’t think I was a relationship guy.” 

“Roo - ”

“I am. A relationship guy,” he clarified, tongue darting out to wet his lips. “For the right woman.” Your mouth was dry, unable to force out a single word. “I was gonna say something before you left, but you avoided me. And then you were gone for three months.”

“I… you messaged me.” 

“Wasn’t exactly something I wanted to say over email,” Bradley chuckled. “I like you too.” 

“What about Georgia?”

That drew him up short, and a confused look crossed his face. “The bartender?” 

“Yeah. She… I mean, she’s clearly interested. And more your type.” Groaning, he leaned down to rest his forehead on yours.

“Honey, I’m not interested in her. And she’s not… ask Nat. She’s been on my case about my” - he lifted a hand to make air quotes - “‘hoe phase’ since I got out here.” That drew a snort from you, and Bradley pulled away to smile at you bashfully. “Gimme a chance, Duch.” 

Hesitating a moment, you took another deep breath and gave the butterflies in your stomach free rein. Hands shaking, you wrapped your arms around his neck and nodded, unable to keep from matching his smile. 

Moving slowly, as though afraid to spook you, Bradley leaned down and brushed his nose to yours. “As much as this is doin’ things for me,” he said softly, pulling at the apron strings tied at your stomach, “I think we’re done in the kitchen tonight.” Biting your lip, you could only nod, leaning away as he tugged it over your head, balled the apron up, and tossed it behind you. With his hands back on your hips, he walked you backward and lifted you onto the counter, stepping between your knees. “This alright?” 

“Yeah,” you whispered, allowing yourself to reach out and run a hand through his curls. Bradley's eyes closed when you lightly scratched his scalp, and he swayed closer. His breath ghosted over your lips and - 

“Fucking Christ,” he groaned when his phone started to buzz. You jumped, feeling the vibration against your shin, and laughed as he dropped his head into the crook of your neck. Your breath caught, feeling his lips on your throat. When he reached into his pocket and scowled down at the screen, you saw Nat’s name before he sent the call to voicemail. 

Leaving the phone on the counter, he smirked and guided your legs around his waist as your arms went around his neck. His hands cupped your ass as he lifted you. In the doorway to the kitchen, he paused long enough for you to slap the walls until the lights turned off before walking toward the couch and lowering himself onto it. Your knees dug into the cushion on either side of him, forcing the hem of your dress higher. 

From this angle, he had to look up at you. Hands migrated from your ass to thighs, callouses lightly scraping and fingertips darting under the fabric to trace shapes on your skin and drag the hem higher. Lightly, you ran your thumb along the scars on his chin before ghosting over the ones on his cheek that had always intrigued you. A moan rumbled from his throat as he followed your touch, mustache tickling the delicate skin of your wrist. Blushing, you wondered how it would feel on your inner thighs. He chuckled, kissing your cheek, “What’re you thinking that’s got you red?” 

Rather than answer, you turned and kissed him - just a light brush of your lips against his that seemed to catch him off-guard. You stared at one another for a long moment until he guided you closer. His mustache prickled, not unpleasantly but different, when he kissed you again. It was sweet and unhurried, a direct contradiction to the hardness you felt straining against his zipper. 

Pulling away, you smiled tentatively down at him, seeing the remnants of your lipstick on his mouth. The corners of his eyes crinkled when he smiled, and you leaned forward to press your lips to them. “Hi,” you said softly.

“Hey.” 

“You like me?” 

“Yeah. You like me?” 

Rather than reply, you captured his lips again. “Drunk words,” you said between kisses, “are sober thoughts.” He barked a laugh before tugging you closer and licking into your mouth. 

“Shoulda said something earlier,” he chided, gripping your ass tightly. “Coulda been doing this for a long time.” 

“Blame the tequila.” The word came out as a moan when he trailed kisses down your neck, and you felt him smile. 

“Thank god for tequila,” he mumbled, nuzzling your breasts and making you grind down on him. Bradley caught your hands when your fingers trailed down his chest to tug at his shirt. “Nuh-uh, honey. Gonna take you on a couple of dates before we get to that.”

“What?” 

“No more ‘hoe phase.’” 

“Maybe just one more night?” That made him laugh again as he shook his head.

“No, Duch. Wanna do this right with you.” 

“I’ve heard the stories. I know you would.” When you rocked against him, he pinned your hand at your lower back and stilled you with a hand on your hip. He growled your name and smirked when your thighs clenched.

“Liked that, huh?” he teased. “Ms. Prim and Proper Duchess likes to be bossed around?” Heat flooded your face, and he chuckled again. Without warning, he stood, and you squeaked, trying to keep from falling. But he held you steady and set you on your feet, towering over you. “Can I stay over?” You didn’t hesitate in nodding, and his kiss was rough before he pulled away and swatted your ass. “Go get ready for bed while I lock up.” 

When you emerged from the bathroom, face cleaned and in your panties and a tank top, Bradley was lying in the middle of your bed in just his boxers. Groaning, he looked at you and shook his head. “Where are those sweats from this morning?” 

“You want me to wear sweats to bed?” you asked, leaning against the doorframe and raising an eyebrow. His hand drifted down to his hard cock, squeezing lightly. “You’ve seen me in less at the beach.”

“Trying to do this right, honey.” Rolling your eyes, you walked to your dresser and pulled on sweatpants before digging out a pair of fuzzy socks. He laughed when you tossed them at his head, setting them aside as you circled the bed to lie beside him. Quickly, he pinned you beneath him, settling in the cradle of your thighs. As he licked into your mouth, you felt his hips rolling against yours. “Still too damn sexy,” he murmured against your lips. 

“Housewife lingerie does it for you?” you teased, running your hands through his hair. Rather than answer, he looped an arm under your knee and drew it up, allowing you to feel him better. “Fuck.”

“Not tonight.” 

And, unfortunately, he was true to his word. Anytime your hands strayed to his boxers, he pinned them over your head, seemingly content to tease and kiss all night. 

Eventually, though, you could no longer keep from yawning. After setting his alarm - Bradley was on duty in the morning while you’d taken the day off - he tucked you against him, your back to his chest. His cock pressed against your ass as he kissed your shoulder, hand slipping under your shirt to brush the underside of your breast. Sighing, he murmered, “Best Thanksgiving I’ve had in a long time.” 

You couldn’t help but agree.

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

Author's Note: Do I think that Bradley has a raging domesticity kink? Possibly.

If you would like to be added to my tag list, please fill out this form.

@shanimallina87

@roosterforme

@kmc1989

@dizzybee03

@tgmreader

@justdamnpeachy

@milegonzalez96

@capoteera

@mrsevans90

@avengersfan25

@atarmychick007

@yuckosworld

@tayloreliza-25

@dontletthemtakeyoualive

@talicat713

@christinonna

@seitmai

@hiireadstuff

@calirindo

@kellyls04

@lunatygerqueen

@penguin876

@Hookslove1592

[himluv]

Something a Little Sweeter

Hello again! May I present some more Lucanis? With a side of Embria backstory?

This calls back to the last piece "Preparations" so you might want to read it before this one, if you haven't yet :) .

The dining table was clean, the dishes dried and stored, and Bellara and Neve had ducked out to continue their conversation in Neve’s study. Lucanis sat in a chair close to the fire and listened to the comforting burble of coffee as it brewed.

He was tired. He hadn’t slept since he and Rook went to Treviso to meet with Teia. It was impossible to track time in the Fade but there’d been two dinners. He’d lost track of how many cups of coffee.

Twenty, Spite grumbled.

“Soon to be twenty-one.” In two days? That might be a new personal best. He stared at the fire and tried not to think. Not about the funeral, about Illario, or even about Spite. He tried no to think about Rook, but he kept replaying their conversation from the Crossroads. 

“When do you get your way?” She’d asked.

A normal person would probably think she’d been teasing him. Flirting. But he’d seen her flirt and she was much more… warm. Being on the receiving end of her interest felt like a sip of Viago’s best brandy. 

Their conversation in the Crossroads had been different. Less like brandy and more like stepping out of a warm bath and into a cool night. 

Vulnerable, Spite spat.

Lucanis checked the coffee and poured a cup. He’d just taken that first, glorious sip when the dining hall door opened. He turned to see Rook step into the room.

She wore her usual Arlathan leathers, but he could tell she’d just come from the bath. Her hair was down, dark with moisture, and her pale face was bright and dewey from the steam.

Staring?!

Lucanis jolted at that and took another sip of his coffee.

“Hey, Lucanis,” she said. She stood at the end of the table, one hip rested against it. 

“Rook,” he said. 

She crossed her arms, uncrossed them only to immediately cross them again.

He recognized the desperate need to do something with your hands. He raised and eyebrow and asked, “Can I get you a cup of coffee?”

She sighed. “Yes, please.”

He chuckled and poured coffee into the twin of his own cup. The silver and purple ones she’d gifted him. He waited for her to take a drink, watched her shoulders drop from around her ears, and smiled at her little sigh of pleasure. 

He found her love of coffee very endearing.

“Better?” He asked.

She gave him a sheepish smile. “I missed coffee.”

“Do the Dalish not have it?”

She shook her head. “They steep a certain kind of tree bark that helps keep you alert.”

He frowned. “Is it good?”

She snorted. “Gods, no.” she took another sip. “Though nothing in the Marches was ever this good.” Her smile warmed him more than coffee, the fire, or brandy combined. 

Flirting?

Lucanis wished he knew. “Did you just come for coffee, or was there something else you needed?” That was neutral enough, right? Helpful without encouraging her attentions? But also not necessarily denying them either?

Want? Spite asked. Or not?

Another impossible question.

Rook sat in the chair next to the one he’d used a moment ago. She stared down into her cup, her posture curling in on her self. 

“Actually,” she said. “I was hoping I could talk to you.” She winced. “About something personal?”

Lucanis froze mid-sip. He took a measured swallow of his coffee, then cleared his throat. “Of course,” he said.  “If you want.” He leaned one shoulder against the mantel. “But surely Bellara will give you better advice?”

She shook her head. “I need an outside perspective,” she said. 

He hummed at that. “Meaning not Elven?”

She grimaced. “Is that okay?”

He could point out that Neve or Harding would also probably give better advice, but he doubted it would matter. It seemed she wanted to to him specifically.

Wants. To talk. To you? Spite crouched on Lucanis’s vacant chair, perched like some bad mockery of a Crow on a rooftop. WHY?

Lucanis smiled at her. “What’s on your mind?”

She took a deep breath. “So.” The word hung between them, and Lucanis braced for impact. Whatever she was about to say seemed important to her. 

“I joined the Dalish, and eventually the Veil Jumpers, to try to find my father.”

Lucanis blinked at her. “Mierda.”

“I’ve never met him,” she added quickly. “And I’m pretty sure he had no idea I even exist.”

Did she think that made it better? “He was Dalish?”

She nodded. “Mom always said he was a Dalish mage with Mythal’s vallaslin.”

He tilted his head at the unfamiliar word. 

“Oh! Sorry.” She gestured at her face. “Our tattoos. They honor the gods.“ She looked down at her cup again. “Or, at least, they used to.”

Rook. Sad? Spite flashed into being in front of Lucanis. Why? You?!

“What’s he saying?” Rook’s mournful expression was replaced with a tiny smile. 

Lucanis frowned. “How do you know he’s talking?”

Rook blushed. “Your gaze gets really intense, but also… far away?” She cleared her throat. “Like you’re listening to something, but looking somewhere else.”

He stared at her. “It’s that obvious?”

Rook’s eyes went wide, gleaming in the firelight.  “Oh, no! I don’t think most people would notice, I just–” she stopped and blushed so hard her freckles vanished in the wave of crimson. She looked down at her coffee again. 

She watches us, Spite said. 

“Ah,” Lucanis said. He stared into the fire for a long moment, willing the awkward tension to pass. 

Why does Rook watch? Spite asked. He blurred toward Rook, crouching low to peer up at her downturned face. Doesn’t trust us?

For once Lucanis understood, and it was very much not that. He cleared his throat. “You were telling me about your father?”

She took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly and ran a hand through the damp stands of her hair. “Yeah,” she said. “So, I left the alienage to find him and when the Dalish couldn’t help anymore, I joined the Veil Jumpers.” She sighed. “I had his trail for a little while, but it went cold in Orlais just after Halamshiral burned.”

He’d never had many contracts in Orlais – they preferred to settle their disputes with their Bards – but Lucanis remembered seeing an uptick in contracts during Celene and Gaspard’s little spat. Shamefully, he’d forgotten about Celene’s actions against Halamshiral’s elves. 

“I figured he was dead,” she continued. “It’s been over a decade since anyone heard from him.”

“But?”

She tapped her index finger against the ceramic cup. She glanced at him, then away. “I found a note.”

“A note?”

She nodded. “First in the Lighthouse, and then another one on the docks in the Crossroads.”

“And they mentioned your father?” The Lighthouse was strange, producing things as needed. He could see the note being conjured here. But the Crossroads seemed somewhat less malleable.

She looked up at him and the confusion on her face made his heart clench. “They were written by him.” She shook her head. “Or at least by someone with the same name.”

“Perhaps it is a common name?” Even as he said it, he felt how ridiculous the words were. She would know better than him what elven names were common. 

“Maybe,” she said. “It’s from one of our tales about Fen’Harel. We all know it.” She shook her head again. “But I’ve never heard of anyone else taking it as their name.”

Lucanis watched her for a moment, noticed the way she fiddled with her cup and bounced her knee. She was nervous, perhaps even upset. This was not a conversation for coffee. 

He set his empty cup on the mantel and marched into the kitchen. He took out a small pot, a pitcher of milk, and a thick bar of chocolate. 

Rook joined him by the stove, at safe distance to avoid getting in his way. “What are you doing?”

“This conversation requires more than coffee.”

“There’s something ‘more’ than coffee?” 

He heard the smirk in her voice and smiled. “To my mind? No,” he said. “But, sometimes the heart needs something a little sweeter.”

Rook said nothing to that, though he heard a couple of delicate sniffles over the gently bubbling milk. 

You made. Rook cry!

So he had. But not all tears were bad, and after all she’d done for him, he would not hold a few of them against her now. 

By the time the chocolate had melted, Rook’s eyes were clear and curious as she peered over his shoulder. 

“So, what is this?”

“Cioccolata calda,” he said. 

She sniffed the air and hummer her appreciation. Rook’s sweet tooth was no secret, and this recipe was sure to delight. 

“The woman who worked in the kitchen, Mirabella, would sneak me a cup on my birthday each year,” he said. He hadn’t thought of Mira in a long time, but he could not see a cup of cioccolata and not smile. 

“You weren’t allowed to have it?” He voice was soft and genuinely curious. It made Lucanis’s chest ache. 

“Caterina was not fond of luxuries,” he said. “At least, not for her fledglings.”

“Sounds like she was a complicated woman.”

“It does, doesn’t it?” He stirred the milk more consistently now, the chocolate dissolving to thicken the mixture. “Maybe she was,” he said. “Our relationship was certainly complicated.”

He watched the chocolate and milk swirl together until they were fully blended. Then he added careful pinches of salt, sugar, and the barest hint of Bellara’s cinnamon.

He glanced over his shoulder at Rook. “Get me a cup?”

She knocked back her coffee, then presented her newly empty cup to him. 

Mierda, this woman. Was she trying to kill him?

He took the cup and poured the cioccolata carefully. When he turned to hand it to her, she offered his empty cup from the mantel in exchange. 

“As a treat,” she said. “I won’t tell anyone.”

He blinked at her, then smiled just a little. She waited while he poured a cup for himself, then they returned to their spots by the fire. He watched her take that first sip, the way her eyelids fluttered with pleasure and her cheeks bloomed with warmth. She licked her lips slowly and Lucanis had to look away. 

Spite crouched in front of Rook, sniffing at her cup. Sweet, the demon breathed. Comfort?  He glared at Lucanis. Help Rook?

Lucanis hoped so. He would certainly always try.

“So,” he said. “Either your father coincidentally shares his name with the author of these notes…”

“Or, my dad was an ancient elf.” She took another sip of her chocolate. “And not just any elf, but a friend and follower of the Dread Wolf.”

“And if he was?”

She considered it as she took another sip. “It should be harder to wrap my head around” she said. “But with everything that’s happened?”

“What’s one more thing?” He understood the sentiment all too well, but Rook deserved better than to carry so many burdens. 

“I just wish I knew what happened to him.”

Lucanis sipped at his cioccolata, savored the intense sweetness and subtle spice. He could not remember the last time he’d had a cup, and he couldn’t help but smile at the memories the flavor conjured. 

“Have you told Neve about this?” He asked. “She might be able to help.”

Rook shook her head. “Bellara doesn’t even know.”

“Really?”

She shrugged. “It just seemed so pointless after so long. I was happy with what I’d discovered. He was real and he was Dalish.” She looked at the fire and whispered. “I had people. Somewhere I belonged.”

She took another sip and smiled at him. “And, now I do again.”

She means you. Us! Spite said. Rook belongs. With us! He sounded very pleased at his statement.

Lucanis shook his head to ward off the demon’s words – they were all too enticing. “Maybe we’ll discover more in the Crossroads,” he said. 

She nodded after a moment. “Yeah,” she said. “Maybe.” She set down her cup, empty, and stood. “Thanks for this, Lucanis. It was really good.”

He wasn’t sure if she meant the cioccolata or the conversation, and even less sure if the distinction mattered. He met her gaze, saw the warmth in her eyes, and refused to look away. 

“Any time, Rook.”

And as she walked out of the dining hall, he was sure she knew he meant it.

[getmeoutofhell]

Poly! ghostface x reader headcanons

WARNINGS: this contains EVERY YOUNG male ghostface. incase you’re uncomfortable leave now for your protection. this does not include richie because i can’t write two brothers dating the same person, my brain don’t work like that. 💀 this is gender neutral, so anyone can read. 💕✌🏾

a/n: well, let me know what y’all think. this is all for fun don’t actually date this many people at once. 😂 but remember, have fun reading and give me some feedback!! enjoy!! :)

The Beginning:

where do i begin? they all met you separately (two of them do), for starters. they wanted to get to know you personally individually, to make sure that they all thought the same about you. in the beginning of their journey, charlie was the first the introduce you to anyone, and he was the first one of them you started to like as well.

charlie would never shut up about you, constantly telling the group about you and what you did. he was obsessed with you, the color of your eyes, everything you could think of he loved it. ethan was the next to come along with charlie to meet you. oh boy, did he fall fast.

“hey y/n, this is my friend ethan.” he shakes your hand, feeling his skin against yours. “nice to meet you ethan.” as you guys talk ethan stares and stares at you, getting lost in thought constantly. in the middle of the conversation, charlie mentions the other boys and suggest you come hang out and watch a movie with them. you take a minute to think but agree and tell him to come pick you up at 8.

“she/he said yes boys!!” charlie tells the group. “thank god, can’t wait to meet him/her.” billy says. “yeah same.” stu agrees.

“he’s/she’s really pretty and has the best smile.” ethan tells them while his face gets red. “calm your dick dude. it’s your first day meeting him/her.” mickey says. “it’s my first time my brothers been in love. i’m proud of you dude.” ethan rolls his eyes at riche before heading to his room. he’s in love already?? no way! 😂

6 rolls around and charlie rushes down stairs. “listen guys! we need to cleans this fucking house up. i go get them in two damn hours and this house is disgusting!!” as soon as he said that they got up and moved around. “i’m not helping them. i already cleaned up my part of the house.” roman states. charlie nods his head before going to clean up.

it’s now 7:30 charlie will be heading to pick you up soon. “how do i look guys?” charlie asked. “you look great dude, now go pick em up.” stu chuckled. “why can’t i go with you?” ethan asks, he just really wants to see you again. “because she/he told me to come pick them up, not you buddy boy.” another eye roll comes out of ethan. “yeah whatever.”

“sorry if the place is a mess, please excuse that.” charlie then opens the door then walks you inside. “boys, this is y/n. the lovely person i was telling y’all about.” everyone tells you hello and ethan approaches you with a hug. “missed you.” “i missed you too eth.”

they made you feel comfortable within minutes of being there. you were a little taken back because you’re the only the girl there (if you’re a girl) but they changed your mind about that quickly. “do you guys have anything to drink? i’m pretty thirsty.” mickey immediately goes and gets you something. you get a little cold and ethan never got up faster in his life to get a blanket. stu was talkative you noticed, but you were there to listen to his words and laugh at his jokes. some time later you end up accidentally falling asleep on the couch, head falling on charlie’s shoulder next to you.

it’s somehow now 12 and you wake up from your nap to the boys looking at you. “oh my god. did i fall asleep, i’m so sorry. what time is it??” you try to get up but fall back down on the couch. “it’s alright beautiful. we’re glad you felt comfortable enough to even sleep over here.” roman tells you. “yeah we appreciate it.” billy says. “do you wanna sleep in my bed for the night? i’ll take the couch.” you look at mickey as he talks, you find this amazing, how they like you enough to let you sleep in their house. “thank you.”

they lead you to the bathroom to wash off your makeup (if you wear any). you then walk in his room and notice a t-shirt on the bed, with a note that says “for you :)” you thought that was the sweetest things ever!! you were so appreciative.

How You Start Dating:

time flys by and you start coming over there whenever. you come over to there place every day, to the point where you bring clothes over to stay the night. they loved your presence and loved you!!

one day the boys had asked you to come downstairs and have a talk with them. “is something wrong boys?” “well, y/n, we wanna talk to you about something.” you were a little nervous at the time, scared they might say something bad and unwanted. you really liked them, all of them…they made you feel loved and appreciated in every way. “we really like you y/n, and we was wondering if you’d like to be our girlfriend/boyfriend? i understand it sounds crazy but-“ “of course i’ll be your girlfriend/boyfriend!!” they all were stunned at your answer, but accepted it.

The Relationship Headcanons:

god they loved you like you were the only person in the world!! gifts, hugs, comfort, you name it they got it!

they help you move in and they can’t get enough of you. you’re never alone with them. but if you did want some you time they will give you it. “you’re so pretty.” “you’re an angel.” “baby, princess/prince, final girl/boy, bae.” those are just some of the words of affection they give you.

ethan & stu is just a cuddle monster in one!! they’re always up on you and against you at all times. charlie is really shy, so mostly in private will he cuddle you. roman and mickey use words of love with you. well mickey also loves cuddles. roman is definitely the most mature, which means he does things differently. he gives you letters and small gifts to show his love. billy is the most possessive of all. deep down, he’s insecure and scared you won’t like him anymore. 😟

but there is a bad side…the arguments. oh my god it took forever to control them and calm them down. one always feels left out every fucking day. it’s hard to reassure them and let them know you love all of them the same. stu loves his daily cuddles and has to have them. “stu move the hell over, your hogging her/him for fucks sake!” billy is secretly jealous and sometimes wants you all to himself. “billy, it’s okay love, i’m right here. no need to be jealous.” he then goes on to say that he’s not jealous when we all know that’s bullshit. but whatever i guess.

mickey films you, a lot. all day everyday. he has a plain that on christmas, he’ll show y’all the huge hour + long video he made of you. just you. no one else. these videos contain you waking up, showering, eating, going to sleep, changing, laughing, yelling & a bunch of other shit i will not disclose. 😂

they do work on their cleaning a lot more now that you’re here. every time they makes a mess and you catch them, you tell them to clean it up and they do it. they love having showers with you, even tho they all can’t fit in there, they take turns on different days!! they can’t get enough of their favorite baby boy/girl!!

they always leave little notes each morning on the fridge for you. “went out to get groceries. i love you bae! see you later ;) -stu” or one said “me + you + shower at 8 :) -mickey” it’s some of your favorite things to see from them in the morning. it also helps your mood be better for the day. they help you cook, too. well technically you help them, because they don’t know what they’re doing. roman knows a little about cooking and looks up recipes for the night. other days when you’re not cooking for them, y’all are ordering takeout or going somewhere to eat.

it’s such a disaster going out to eat with them, let alone they all have to ride in the same vehicle. they argue about who gets to sit by you and what music to put on the radio…it’s a bunch of mess everywhere. “guys just fucking calm down. she/he said she’s/he’s sitting in front by me.” roman always gets the last say so in the car, considering he drives 99% of the time. he’s very specific with everything.

now this is just some of the sfw headcanons, don’t get me started on the nsfw ones…👀