#thank you so much for thinking of me đŸ„č
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norrisainz33 · 2 days ago
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home for the holidays || ls18
☆ summary: lance and his partner start a new chapter now that the season is over and take their relationship to the next level
☆ pairing: lance stroll x nonfamous!reader
☆ fc & warnings: none
☆ requested: nope! just a short one bc i don’t see enough lance fics so wanted to write one!!
. ✿ à­šâ€ïžŽà­§â €âœż . 
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ynuser: and just like that - the 2024 season has come to an end. this was a tough one but no matter what i am proud of the team and proud of lance. see all you beautiful people again in march đŸ€
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astonmartinf1: see you soon y/n/n! we love you ❀
ynuser: đŸ€ you more admin
user1: you are so real for posting the vegas pics of lance
lance_stroll: i love you 😘
ynuser: and i love you đŸ„č
user4: mama y papa
user2: i’m going to miss this silly season and seeing you practically every weekend smh
francisca.cgomes: see you sooner than march please😭
ynuser: you know i can’t go more than a couple weeks without you 😔
user44: can lance fight?
scottyjames1: no
user44: SCREMING
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user1: most canadian thing i’ve ever seen
lance_stroll: missed this and missed you darling
ynuser: i missed you more lance. i’m overjoyed to be back đŸ€
yourbff: i’m so glad you and lancey are finally home
ynuser: me too! this season was a long one đŸ˜©
yourbff: you both are stronger than i
ynuser: i’m not sure how we made it honestly! but it’s time for new beginnings and rest đŸ«¶đŸ»
user2: time for some much deserved relaxation
user6: just saw the f1 secret santa and can’t stop thinking about how good of gift giver lance is and how he probably got you the best gifts ever
fernandoalo_official: happy holidays mi amiga
ynuser: gracias nando! i hope you have the best break with all of those you love most đŸ€
user3: i hope you have the best break y/n
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yourbff: i can’t wait to visit you in your new home!!!
ynuser: i can’t wait for you to visit!! one of the spare bedrooms has your name on it bestie
user11: ahhh congrats y/n!!!
carmenmundt: congrats on your and lances new home!! looking forward to visiting 😘
ynuser: thank you carmen! i miss you sm already. please come visit soon đŸ€
user14: so so happy for you and lance. end game fr
lance_stroll: remind me why i thought moving right after the season ended was a good idea
ynuser: you said, and i quote, “i want to be home for the holidays and host all the people i love in our home.”
lance_stroll: well when you put it like that
.
cholestroll: yayyayayay!!!!! can’t wait to see it in a few days
ynuser: can’t wait to see you and scotty and the lovely little bug soon. it’s been too long
astonmartinf1: cheers to new beginnings ✹
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chloestroll: the tree is so cuteeeeee oh i love it
lance_stroll: it is ! y/n is very excited for the holidays
chloestroll: as she should be!! do you have everything set?
lance_stroll: everything should be set up according to plan! im beyond nervous though
chloestroll: don’t be!! it’s going to alllll be ok
user3: y/n is so cute
scottyjames31: glad she’s getting you into the holiday spirit
lance_stroll: between y/n and chloe there’s more than enough holiday spirit! we’ve got hanukah and christmas covered over here
user4: pookie christmas lets goooo
ynuser: i am having the most fun decorating our new house đŸ«¶đŸ»
lance_stroll: me too my love. building this life with you is everything i could ask for and more ❀
user5: i’m glad you’re getting the time to relax lancey. you deserve it after this season
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user2: holy crap this is beautiful?????? and she managed this right after you two moved in???? get this girl an award
fernandoalo_official: looks beautiful! can’t wait to hear about how your evening goes
lance_stroll: you’ll be one of the first to know ❀
user6: this called me broke in about 800 different languages
pierregasly: WOW! can i hire y/n to decorate my house?
lance_stroll: for a hefty price 😉
user9: you better marry this girl i s2g
ynuser: thank you đŸ„č đŸ€đŸ˜˜đŸŽ„
lance_stroll: no thank YOU gorgeous! i am so thankful to have you help me host the holidays ❀
ynuser: 😭 i love being a part of your family lance
lance_stroll: we all love you so very much ❀
ynuser: you’re going to make me cry đŸ„č
chloestroll: eeeeek!!!!!! today is THE day đŸ€đŸ€đŸ€đŸ€
lance_stroll: she doesn’t suspect a thing 😍
user12: her outfit is everything ??? literal angel
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ynuser: tonight may have been the best night of my life. wishing you the happiest of holidays from the future mr and mrs stroll ❀
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user18: this is so important to me you have no idea
chloestroll: welcome to the family sis 😘
ynuser: sis 😭 oh i love you chloe
georgerussell63: đŸ„č congrats! you two make the perfect couple
ynuser: thank you georgie ❀
fernandoalo_official: felicidades mis amigos
ynuser: gracias por todo nando đŸ«¶đŸ»
user32: my mom and dad are getting married im overjoyed
lance_stroll: i can’t wait to make you my wife
ynuser: and i can’t wait for you to be my husband 😘
user23: you look so good in white
astonmartinf1: best news we’ve seen all day
. ✿ à­šâ€ïžŽà­§â €âœż . 
a/n: thanks for reading!! likes and reblogs appreciated.
. ✿ à­šâ€ïžŽà­§â €âœż . 
disclaimer: pictures are not mine and everything i write is fiction
© norrisainz33 || please do not rewrite, translate, or copy any of my works posted here on to any other platform
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elixirfromthestars · 15 hours ago
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By The Warmth Of The Oven
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Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader
Summary: You are baking cookies for the Avengers holiday party when a certain super solider comes into the kitchen tipsy for the first time...
Word Count: 1.1k
Warning(s): none. pure fluff. tipsy bucky.
Prompt/Event: @the-slumberparty december daze -> is it those cookies that smell delicious or is it you?
a/n: This fluffy drabble is my holiday gift to you my dear Bella @nickfowlerrr ♡ In honor of Can You Feel It? being the first of many beautiful fics I read of yours đŸ„čđŸ©· Thank you everyone for reading! ₊˚âŠč♡ Likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated!! ♡♡♡
bucky masterlist ♡ || fluffy winter drabbles masterlist ❆
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“Smells good
” Bucky’s voice comes out of nowhere from behind you as you grab another tray of chocolate chip cookies from the oven. You glance over your shoulder to find him sauntering into the kitchen, making his way over to you. 
“Freshly baked cookies always do,” you reply with a gratified grin, placing the tray on top of the stove so the cookies have some time to cool off before you plate them. Your friends had already gone through three batches of them and they practically begged you to make more. It was a nice feeling, almost rewarding in a way, knowing something you made was so loved by your friends. 
“‘m not talking about the cookies, doll,” there’s a bit of a slur in his cadence that catches your attention at the same time that your heart skips a beat at his words. You turn to him to see he’s staring at you with a dreamy smile and a twinkle in his eyes, propped up against the counter by his elbow. You frown at his unusual nonchalant demeanor. You’ve never seen him act this way before. 
Your head tilts slightly as you examine him a little closer. There’s a bit of a sway to his stance and his cheeks are tinted pink. “Bucky, are you drunk?” Almost immediately he shakes his head at your question, “No. I can't get drunk,” he replies with an obvious tone, and yet the pouty frown on his face tells a different story. 
“Right, you can’t
” you affirm, mulling it over for a moment,“Unless
did Thor give you some of his special Asgardian liquor?” You ask, stepping slightly closer to him, the apples of his cheeks getting rosier in response. 
“I took a shot. I started feeling funny and came here—felt safe,” he mutters that last part reluctantly, sharing something with you he wouldn’t if it weren’t for the alcohol in his system.
“In the kitchen?”
“With you.” 
Your amusement is replaced with a soft expression at his response. He most likely hasn’t felt the effects of alcohol in decades and a part of him doesn’t know how to cope with the resurfaced inhibitions. The fact that while feeling unwell his first instinct was to come looking for you—it made a warmth spread throughout you that could easily rival the heat of the oven.
You reach out to cup his cheek, soothing the flushed skin with your thumb. He instinctively leans into your touch, his eyes shining with a gentle vulnerability that causes your heart to squeeze in your chest. You and Bucky have always had a flirtatious friendship for as long as you can remember, but it's never gone past that. Seeing him so openly affectionate with you stirs emotions deep within you that you aren’t sure you’re ready to bring to the surface.
“I don’t think the alcohol is going to stay in your system for long, Buck. How about we do this
you wait for me here while I go out and serve the cookies I baked,” his eyes widen slightly and you can tell he wants to protest until you add, “I’ll bring back some hot chocolate for us to share and we can enjoy it along with some cookies while we wait for that liquor in your system to wear off. How does that sound?” You suggest softly and you can see the way he thinks it through before he agrees with a nod.
He doesn’t take his eyes off of you as you plate a few dozen cookies on decorative plates, leaving a handful behind for you and Bucky to share. You make sure to quickly take them out to your friends and serve up two piping hot mugs of hot chocolate before making it back to the kitchen in no time. 
When you meet back with Bucky you find him sitting on the counter where he watches his legs as he swings them lazily to and fro. You observe him fondly for a moment longer than necessary. Trying to commit to memory how carefree and unguarded he is at this moment. When he notices you his face lights up in a way that makes you feel like the most precious person on earth. 
“Here, as promised,” you hand him a mug of hot chocolate which he takes eagerly—too eagerly—as he immediately goes for a sip of it. Before he can, however, you stop him, placing your hand as a barrier between his lips and the mug. His mouth ends up pressed into your palm, and you ignore the heat that finds its way to your face at the softness of his lips brushing against your skin.
“Bucky, it's scalding hot! You’ll burn yourself! Wait until it cools down a bit, please.”
“It’s not gonna burn me, doll. I’m a super soldier. Watch—”
“Bucky!” 
You use the cookies as leverage to coax Bucky into waiting for the hot chocolate to cool down before he drinks any of it. For the next hour or so, you enjoy each other's company. Between the sweet treats and the lighthearted conversations, time flies by in a heartbeat. 
Then, while in the middle of a discussion over your last mission, Bucky does something that completely takes you by surprise in the best way possible—he kisses you. It’s short, but profound in the way he pours everything into it. Every flirtation you ever questioned could mean something more was proven here with this kiss, that it had meant so much more for more than just you. 
You’re speechless when he pulls away beaming as if his heart might burst.
“Looks like I was right.” 
“Huh?”
“I asked myself what was sweeter. You or the cookies. I knew it'd be you,” he states as a matter of fact, drinking up the way his words affect you as much as the kiss had. There’s a part of you that doesn’t believe him, but it's not because of him, but more so because you think you must be dreaming. 
“That's the liquor talking.”
“I've sobered up a while ago, doll.”
You search his eyes for the truth of it all and you find it. This is real. This isn’t a dream. And the yearning that burns bright in his eyes is one you know all too well. It’s the same one reflecting in your eyes as your gazes lock on one another.
“I still think the cookies are sweeter,” you whisper, your eyes shining with a playful challenge despite the way your heart races in your chest with anticipation. He catches on, licking his lips as his flesh hand snakes its way to the back of your head to cradle it gently.
“‘m gonna prove you wrong, doll,” he declares in a huskier tone as he pulls you in for another kiss. And that night, by the warmth of the oven, Bucky continues to kiss you until he successfully proves you wrong. 
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pbaz7 · 1 day ago
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CROSSING THE LINE — PART TEN ♡
paige x azzi
warnings: sexual content (at the end)
word count: 9.8k
A/N: Alright this is the last chapter of the series đŸ„č. I really enjoyed writing this one honestly and this won't be my last story! I tried to combine the things people requested the most for the last chapter so it's honestly just a really cute chapter to wrap up their storyline. There is some sexual content at the end but if you don't like that kind of thing you don't have to read it and won't miss much as it's just the end of the series. But for those of you who do like it, it's there lol! Please leave live reactions and comments, thank you so much for reading this series đŸ«¶đŸŒđŸ€­.
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March 2029
Paige paced back and forth in her dressing room, her footsteps quick and uneven as she muttered under her breath. Nika, lounging on the couch, watched her with an amused expression, while everyone else was still getting dressed. 
“Twin, you need to chill and sit down,” Nika said, shaking her head. “You’re gonna get sweaty, and Azzi’s going to kill you and probably me for letting you do this.”
“How am I supposed to sit down?” Paige shot back, throwing her hands in the air. “I haven’t seen my fiancĂ©e all day! I have no idea what she’s thinking!”
Nika stifled a laugh. “Yeah, that’s the point. You’re not supposed to see her today. It’s tradition or whatever.”
Paige groaned, reluctantly plopping down onto the edge of the couch. She adjusted her button up carefully, making sure she didn’t wrinkle it. “This is torture, who came up with this ridiculous tradition anyway. Who wouldn’t want to see their wife before they got married,” she muttered.
A few seconds later, as if the universe was reading her mind, a knock sounded at the door. Nika stood up to answer it, sharing a quick glance at Paige whose face lit up a little bit. When Nika opened the door, Caroline stood on the other side, a playful smirk on her face.
“Azzi wants Paige to come to the door,” Caroline said, her tone light, “but she can’t look.”
Nika laughed quietly as she turned to Paige. “Come on, drama queen. Get up.”
With exaggerated reluctance, Paige got to her feet. Nika guided her to the door, positioning her by the wall so she and Azzi couldn’t see each other.
Paige felt a familiar hand slide into hers from the other side of the door frame, their fingers intertwining. Azzi’s voice came softly, almost a whisper. “Hi, baby.”
A wide grin broke out on Paige’s face. “Hi, mama.”
Azzi chuckled at the name, her thoughts drifting briefly to their son, who Geno had whisked away the moment he’d arrived.
“Have you seen him yet?” Paige asked, her tone softening as her thoughts turned to their little boy just like Azzi.
“Not since this morning,” Azzi replied. “But Geno promised he’d keep him entertained. I heard him say something about introducing him to everyone in the building before getting him dressed.”
Paige laughed quietly. “So basically, he’s spoiling him.”
“Of course,” Azzi said with a smile. “I think Geno likes being a grandpa more than he did coaching sometimes.”
Paige’s heart melted as she pictured her son’s bright blue eyes and laughter filling the building. “I still can’t believe we have him sometimes Az. He’s perfect.”
Azzi’s voice softened. “He really is. And he’s going to be so proud of his moms today.”
“Which is why you need to calm down goofball,” Azzi continued gently as she squeezed Paige’s hand.
Paige scoffed, trying to sound confident. “Psh, what are you talking about? I’m cool as a cucumber.”
A laugh bubbled up from Azzi. “I could feel your stress from the other side of the building, Paige and your hands are sweaty.”
At that, Paige tried to pull her hand away to wipe it on a towel, but Azzi held onto her firmly. “Nope, not so fast,” Azzi teased.
Paige sighed, leaning her head back against the wall. “This is so unfair,” she mumbled. “I can’t even see you.”
“I know,” Azzi replied, her voice warm. “But I’m here. We’ve got this.”
Paige exhaled a shaky breath, a grin tugging at her lips. “We’re getting married today, baby.” Her voice wavered with emotion, the reality of the moment hitting her all over again.
Azzi smiled on the other side of the door, her thumb gently stroking the back of Paige’s hand. “Yeah, we are,” she said, her voice filled with awe. “Can you believe it?”
“No,” Paige admitted with a small laugh. “Six years ago, I didn’t think I’d be this lucky.”
Azzi’s grip tightened slightly. “Paige, you deserve this. You deserve everything.”
Paige’s heart swelled, and she closed her eyes, leaning her head against the wall. “You’re everything, Az. I can’t wait to see you walk down that aisle.”
“And I can’t wait to marry you,” Azzi whispered.
A moment of silence passed between them, filled only with the quiet sound of their breathing.
Finally, Azzi spoke again. “Okay, I have to go put my dress on now.”
Paige smiled, her head still resting against the wall. “I know you’re going to look so beautiful, Az.”
Azzi’s laugh was like a perfect melody in Paige’s ears. “I love you, P.”
“I love you, too,” Paige replied without hesitation, her voice soft and full of adoration.
Their hands parted reluctantly, and Paige went back to sit down, her chest lighter than it had been all day. She reached for a bottle of water, taking a long sip as a calmness settled over her.


Paige now stood outside the double doors, her heart pounding in her chest. She took a few deep breaths trying to steady herself. 
Behind her, Jayden squirmed in Ice’s arms, reaching out toward his mom with a determined pout. His little hands stretched forward, and his soft curly hair bounded as he wriggled in Ice’s arms. 
“Paige, he wants you,” Ice said with a grin, already moving to set the toddler down. 
Paige bent down as his tiny feet touched the floor, her hands immediately going to straighten his miniature suit. “Hey, buddy,” she said softly, her voice instantly calm as she smoothed the lapels of his jacket. 
Jayden beamed up at her, his blue eyes sparkling with excitement, “Mommy,” he said, his voice sweet and slightly wobbly 
Paige smiled at him as she booped his nose with her finger. “Hey, little man. Look at you in your suit. You look so handsome. Mama’s gonna love it.”
Jayden grinned proudly, then pointed to the doors. “Mama ‘dere?” he asked, his small finger jabbing in the direction of where Azzi was going to be eventually.
Paige’s heart melted as she nodded. “Yeah, mama’s gonna be in there. But she’s not there yet, she’s waiting for us.”
Jayden tilted his head, his little brow furrowed in thought. “Why?” he asked, the single word clear amidst his toddler babble.
Paige chuckled softly, fixing the curls that had fallen over his forehead just the way Azzi liked it. “Because today’s a special day Jay. Mama and I are getting married.”
Jayden’s eyes widened with the kind of awe only a toddler could muster. “Mawwy?” he repeated, his tone high and curious.
Paige nodded, her smile growing. “Yeah, married. It means we’re gonna be a family forever. You, me, and Mama.”
Jayden clapped his hands together, clearly pleased with the idea. “Jayden, too?” he asked, his words slightly jumbled but unmistakable.
“Of course, Jayden, too,” Paige said, leaning forward to kiss his forehead. “You’re the most important part of this family, you know that?”
Jayden giggled, his small hands reaching up to pat Paige’s cheeks. “Love you, Mommy,” he said suddenly, his little voice bursting with affection.
Paige felt her throat tighten as she pulled him into a quick hug. “I love you, too, Jay. So much.”
From behind her, Ice cleared her throat. “Alright, ma’am, time to stand up. You’ve got a wedding to get to.”
Paige laughed, releasing Jayden reluctantly. She straightened up, brushing off her suit and taking another deep breath. Looking down at Jayden, she gave him a reassuring smile. “You ready?”
Jayden nodded eagerly, excited to see his mama finally. 
With one last deep breath, Paige straightened her shoulders, feeling calmer than she had moments ago.


Paige stood at the end of the aisle, her hands nervously crossed in front of her as she waited for Azzi. The soft murmur of the audience faded into the background, and all she could feel was the weight of the moment. On her side of the aisle stood Nika, Ice, KK, and Drew, each of them smiling at her with proud, knowing looks. On Azzi’s side were Caroline, Jon, Jose, and Jana, equally as proud, their faces radiating warmth as they stood together, waiting for the ceremony to begin. Each of them wore the same light magenta in their respective styles, the magenta represented the union of their lives, the perfect balance between purple and pink, of Paige and Azzi.
The guests in the audience were a mix of family, friends, and basketball royalty, each one a piece of Paige and Azzi’s shared journey. Paige could see familiar faces scattered throughout the crowd: their families, their old UConn teammates, UConn alumni, some of their WNBA teammates–old and new–even some players they had never played with but had grown close to, all of these people supported Paige and Azzi through different phases of their careers and their relationship. The room was a true reflection of their journey. The air felt heavy with history and yet it was brimming with hope for the future.
All of a sudden the orchestra began to play, its soft melodies filling the air and soothing the nervous tension in the room. At the front of the aisle, Paige couldn’t help but smile as she saw the first person of the day making his way down the aisle. With his little legs, he moved slowly, but with an adorable determination. He was wearing a little suit that mirrored his uncles, and he was holding his aunt Lauren’s hand. Every now and then, Lauren would hand him a few flowers to toss down the aisle which he thoroughly enjoyed. The crowd cooed at the two-year-old as he made his way toward the front, taking in all the attention with the charm that Paige swore he got from her. 
Jay was their perfect miracle. Paige and Azzi had adopted him as soon as both of their rookie contracts were up, and they were finally able to play for the same team in Washington. It had been nothing short of hitting the adoption lottery. With his blue eyes and blonde hair, he looked like a perfect blend of both his moms somehow. His blonde hair was curly like Azzi’s, and his dimples were almost an exact replica of her’s. As he threw flowers along the aisle, occasionally getting distracted by familiar faces in the crowd, Paige couldn’t help but beam with pride.
When Jayden reached the end of the aisle, he attempted to walk toward Paige, his arms reaching out to his mommy. But before he could take another step, Lauren scooped him up, and his pout deepened. The crowd couldn’t help but chuckle at the little boy’s dramatic expression as he was whisked away. Despite the momentary disappointment, he was soon settled in the arms of his grandmother, Katie, who had been eagerly waiting to hold him.
Paige smiled at the adorable scene. Jayden was just like his moms in every way. And Paige felt her heart swell as she watched him interact with the family, knowing this day, this moment, was just the beginning of their future together.
The laughter from the wedding party gradually faded, settling into a peaceful silence that seemed to hold its breath in anticipation. The music, once soft and light, swelled into a more solemn, heartfelt melody. It was time for Azzi to walk down the aisle. As the first few notes of the song filled the air, the entire audience stood in unison, their eyes instinctively shifting toward the doors.
Paige’s heart was pounding in her chest, each beat echoing in her ears as she fought to steady her breath. This is it, she thought, her palms damp against the fabric of her pants. Her heart swelled with love, nervous excitement, and a deep, overwhelming joy. She glanced at her family and friends—Nika, Ice, KK, Drew—all standing at her side. Her gaze then flicked to the guests filling the rows, each face radiating love and warmth, all of them there to witness this monumental moment. Azzi is about to walk toward me. The love of my life is about to walk towards me.
Then the doors opened.
Azzi’s presence filled the room like a wave, drawing every eye, yet somehow the world seemed to narrow. There she was—walking slowly towards Paige, glowing with a quiet confidence, her every step in perfect harmony with the music. The lighting caught her white dress just right, casting a soft, ethereal glow around her. She looked like something out of a dream—angelic, breathtaking.
Paige’s breath hitched, and her heart raced faster as her eyes locked with Azzi’s. Her legs almost gave way beneath her and Drew patted her shoulder chuckling slightly, but she stood tall, transfixed by the sight of the woman she loved. The woman she had waited for. Tears welled up in her eyes, blurring her vision, but all she could see was Azzi, walking toward her as if the world had led them here, to this moment.
At the same time Azzi’s thoughts swirled as she took each step. This moment is everything I’ve dreamed of. Fuck she looks so good. My heart beats for her. It always has, always will. Her pulse raced as she scanned Paige’s face. I’ve fought for this love, for her. I’ve seen everything we’ve been through, and it’s been worth it. Every moment, every struggle—this is the culmination of all of it.
Her eyes were locked on Paige as if nothing else existed in the world. There was so much emotion swirling within her—gratitude, awe, love—but most of all, there was a profound peace. This is where I belong. Right here, with her.
As she walked closer, she couldn’t help but smile at Paige’s teary eyes, her heart swelling at the way she was looking at her. She’s everything to me. How did I get so lucky? Her legs felt like they were moving on their own, carried by the sheer force of the love between them.
When Azzi finally reached the altar, Paige’s hands, which had been tightly clasped in front of her, suddenly felt empty. She reached out instinctively, her fingers trembling as she tried to follow through with the practiced firm handshake she was supposed to give Tim. But before she could, Tim pulled her into a tight, heartfelt hug. It was unexpected, but so full of meaning—so full of everything he felt about the woman who was about to marry his daughter. Paige’s arms wrapped around him as she smiled through her tears. She had grown so close to him, and in that moment, it felt like all their shared memories—good and bad—were coming together.
Azzi’s eyes softened as she watched the embrace, her chest tightening with emotion. Her lips curled into a soft smile as she finally took her place beside Paige, her hand sliding into Paige’s like it was meant to be there all along.
Paige helped Azzi settle in front of her, taking Azzi’s hand in hers, feeling the familiar warmth that had comforted her for so long. Azzi handed her flowers to Caroline, a fleeting moment of lightness before their attention fully turned to each other.
They stood there, face to face at last. The weight of the moment settled in their hearts, and the world seemed to slow. As their eyes locked for a few precious seconds, it was as if the room had disappeared. Everything faded away except for the two of them, standing together, ready to begin the rest of their lives.
Azzi’s voice, soft but clear, broke the silence, carrying a tenderness that only Paige could feel. She whispered, so only Paige could hear, but it felt as if the entire room was listening. “You look beautiful P.” Her fingers gently brushed a tear from Paige’s cheek, her touch as delicate as the moment itself.
Paige’s heart swelled, and she blinked away more tears as she whispered back, her voice slightly trembling, “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, baby.” She swallowed hard, trying to steady herself, but the emotion in her chest was overwhelming.
Before the intimacy of the moment could envelop them entirely, Jayden’s voice rang out from the audience. His little voice echoed with excitement as he saw Azzi standing in front of Paige. “Mama!” he shouted, his chubby little arms reaching for her. He was so happy to see his mother, and his pure joy filled the room, drawing smiles from every corner.
Azzi’s heart fluttered at the sound of his voice, and she winked at him, her eyes softening with affection. Jayden, always a mama’s boy, blushed furiously at the attention from Azzi and immediately hid his face in Katie’s neck. The crowd couldn’t help but laugh, touched by his shyness and his love for his mom.
Paige and Azzi exchanged a glance, their faces breaking into smiles at their son’s antics. They shared a quiet laugh, the kind that only they could understand, before turning back to each other. Their love for Jayden, for each other, was tangible in the air around them—an unspoken bond that only deepened as the moment passed.
The ceremony continued, but the two of them were lost in the love they shared, the life they had built, and the promise of all the moments yet to come.
Paige hadn’t really heard a word CD had said as she officiated the wedding. All Paige could do was stare at Azzi in awe, her heart swelling in her chest. In that moment, everything around her faded—the audience, CD’s voice, the sound of the light music—all she could see was Azzi, standing there before her. Azzi, the woman who had become everything to her. Even after all these years, Paige still looked at her the way she did the first time she realized she loved her—like she was the most beautiful thing on this earth, like she would do anything, give everything, to the girl standing in front of her.
It was now time for the vows, and Paige took a deep breath, steadying herself as her heart raced in her chest. Her voice wavered as she began, but the words came from the deepest place inside her, raw and honest. There were no rehearsed lines, no prepared speeches. She didn’t need them to tell Azzi how much she loved her, how much she meant to her. 
“Azzi,” Paige began, her voice trembling slightly, “To put it simply you’re everything to me baby. I didn’t realize it at first, but... when you got to UConn that summer, I thought I was just being a leader, you know doing my job—helping the new girl get comfortable and fit in. But you weren’t like anyone I had ever met.”
Paige paused, her eyes locked with Azzi’s, the love in her gaze unmistakable. “You were this constant, steady presence. And without even trying, you made me trust you more than I’ve ever trusted anyone in my entire life. You had this way of getting under my skin and somehow, you did it without me even realizing what was happening. You became someone I couldn’t imagine life without before I even realized it.”
Paige’s eyes softened, remembering a moment that had changed everything. “And then... you made me watch Frozen for the first time. The movie had been out for like... eleven years at that point, and I’d never seen it because, honestly, who would want to waste time watching a Disney cartoon? I needed to be in the gym. But there you were, trying to put it on because it was your turn to pick the movie, and I looked at you like you were insane.” Paige chuckled softly at the memory, the love in her eyes only growing. “But then... you gave me this look. We were on my bed sitting too close to be just friends, and for the first time, I really saw you. Your eyes. God, your eyes. My breath caught in my throat, and I think that’s when I first really noticed how breathtaking you were.”
Paige’s voice softened as she spoke of that pivotal moment. “Your dimples, your smile, your laugh—everything about you. That was the moment I think I knew. I didn’t admit it to myself then, but something clicked that day. And before I knew it, you had me watching Frozen every week.”
A bittersweet smile crossed Paige’s face. “And then, we fought. God, we fought, and we hurt each other in ways I didn’t think were possible. But even then... even when we weren’t speaking, even when I thought you’d broken my heart and left me, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I’d wonder if you’d eaten, how you were feeling, if you were getting enough sleep, if you were icing your knee or taking care of yourself. I couldn’t stop caring even when I wanted to.”
Paige’s voice faltered for a moment as she fought to control the tears threatening to fall. She looked at Azzi, who stood before her, looking at Paige with such intensity that it made her heart ache. “You’re so beautiful, Azzi,” Paige whispered, her words faltering slightly as she lost herself in the depth of Azzi’s gaze.
But she didn’t stop there. “But it’s not just the way you look... You’re so smart, so much smarter than you give yourself credit for. And you’re so damn stubborn. You fight me tooth and nail for what you believe in, even if it’s something as small as what Jay’s going to wear that day. And I love that about you. You make me feel safe, but you also push me to be better. You call me out when I’m being an idiot, but you do it with so much love. I’ve never met anyone who made me feel like I’m enough just as I am. You taught me that I don’t need to be perfect all the time. That I don’t always need to be in control.”
Paige’s voice cracked a little as she continued. “You’re my balance, Azzi. When I’m all over the place, loud, and impulsive, you ground me. You’re patient when I’m not, calm when I’m chaotic. And somehow, you push me to be better, to be a better version of myself for you and Jay, every single day, without ever making me feel like I have to change who I am.”
Tears brimmed in Paige’s eyes, and she took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. “Baby, you’re not just someone I love. You’re my home. My heart. And I thank God every single day that he brought you to me the way he did.”
The room fell silent, and as Paige finished her vows, the emotion in the air was almost tangible. Her eyes never left Azzi’s, and both women had tears glistening in their eyes. The guests, who knew Paige as the composed, often reserved leader, were stunned. This side of her—this vulnerability, this raw, open love—was something most of them had never seen. This moment, though, was different. It was soft, delicate, and full of so much meaning. It was the clearest, most heartfelt expression of Paige’s love for Azzi.
Azzi, her heart swelling with emotion, fought to hold back the tears. She looked at Paige, struggling to find her words. After a long pause, she laughed softly, a slight chuckle escaping her lips despite the tears pooling in her eyes. “I have no idea how I’m going to follow that,” she said, her voice thick with emotion, the crowd chuckling lightly at her attempt to regain composure.
Azzi’s laugh broke the tension, and for a brief moment, it felt like everything had slowed down, as though time itself had stopped to allow them this perfect, unspoken connection.
Azzi takes a deep breath, still a little shaky from the weight of Paige's vows. "Okay," she starts, her voice soft but steady. "First of all, Paige, you're so incredibly annoying."
The crowd chuckles, and Paige rolls her eyes playfully, her smile wide. Azzi glances at her, her teasing grin softening. "But you also have the purest soul I've ever seen. You're selfless, generous, forgiving, and so incredibly caring. And every single day, I hope we’re able to raise a son who has even a fraction of those qualities."
Azzi pauses, her eyes flickering with emotion. "The night you walked into our suite when I moved in... I knew I was done for," she admits, drawing laughter from the audience. "You had this confidence, this charm, this energy that just pulled me in immediately. And, honestly, it almost got me in trouble a few times. Because I had these thoughts and all these feelings I wasn’t supposed to have for my best friend, for my teammate—especially my teammate who had a bit of a reputation."
The room erupts in laughter, and Paige mock-glares at Azzi, who shrugs innocently before continuing. "But the more I got to know you—not Paige Bueckers, the golden girl, but just Paige—the more that attraction turned into something I couldn't even put into words. I saw a side of you that no one else did. You weren’t just cocky and larger-than-life; you were thoughtful, attentive, and so incredibly soft. You showed me sides of yourself that I don’t think anyone else got to see. And those parts of you—they were the ones I fell in love with."
Azzi’s voice trembles slightly as she goes on. "With everyone else, you were carefree, like nothing could touch you. But with me, you let me see your heart. You were vulnerable in a way I know wasn’t easy for you. You trusted me with your fears, your insecurities, the things you tried so hard to keep hidden from the world. And that trust? It means more to me than I could ever say."
Azzi glances at Paige, her expression softening even further. "You made me believe in a kind of love I didn’t think was possible. The kind they write about in poems and movies. The kind of love that doesn't just show up—it stays, no matter what. You never stopped dating me, even after we were together. You used to bring me flowers every week—every single week—and when you couldn’t be there to give them to me in person, you had them shipped to my door. You made sure I never doubted how much I meant to you."
The audience murmurs softly, some wiping away tears, as Azzi’s voice grows steadier. "And it wasn’t just the big gestures. It was the way you made me laugh when I didn’t think I could. The way you remembered every little thing about me, like how I hate the dark but love the gloominess of rain. You made me feel seen in a way I didn’t even know I needed. You loved me in ways I didn’t know were possible."
Azzi pauses to collect herself, a few tears slipping down her cheeks. She lets out a watery laugh. "And somehow, through all of that, you still kept surprising me. You never stopped pushing me to be better, to dream bigger. You believed in me when I didn’t believe in myself, and you stood by me every step of the way. You were my biggest supporter, my safe space, my everything."
Her voice softens even more, and she looks directly at Paige, her gaze unwavering. "You’re not just someone I love, Paige. You’re my best friend, my soulmate, my home. And I thank God every day that he brought you into my life. Because with you, I have everything I could ever need."
By the time Azzi finishes, slow tears are streaming down Paige’s face, her lips trembling as she tries to smile. Azzi steps closer, her thumb brushing the tears from Paige’s cheeks.
In the quiet room, their son Jayden’s sweet little voice pipes up again, breaking the silence. "Mama, Mommy crying!"
The crowd laughs warmly, and Paige lets out a watery laugh of her own, "Yeah, buddy. Happy tears."
After their vows, CD steps forward with a warm smile, gently pulling everyone’s attention back to the ceremony. "Alright," she says, her voice calm yet celebratory. "Now, if you’ll both repeat after me, we’ll make this official."
Azzi and Paige exchange a brief glance, their hands still joined, both visibly brimming with anticipation. They go through the official readings, their voices steady yet filled with emotion, each word cementing their commitment to one another.
When it’s time for the rings, CD turns to Azzi first. "Azzi, do you take Paige to be your wife, to love and to cherish, in sickness and in health, for as long as you both shall live?"
Azzi doesn’t hesitate. She nods, her voice clear and sure. "I do."
Taking the wedding band, she gently slides it onto Paige’s left ring finger, her touch lingering as she finishes. Her eyes meet Paige’s, filled with love and certainty.
CD then turns to Paige. "Paige, do you take Azzi to be your wife, to love and to cherish, in sickness and in health, for as long as you both shall live?"
Paige’s breath catches for a moment, her lips curving into a smile as she says, "I do." Her hand shakes slightly as she picks up the ring, her fingers brushing Azzi’s as she slides it onto her left ring finger. Her voice softens, barely audible except to Azzi. "Forever."
CD looks at them both, her own smile growing as she says, "By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you married. You may kiss your wife."
Before Azzi can fully process the words, Paige is already moving, pulling Azzi toward her. Their lips meet in a deep, heartfelt kiss, a culmination of everything they’ve been through and everything they’ve been waiting for. Both of them sigh into the kiss, their arms wrapping around each other as the world melts away.
The crowd erupts into cheers and applause, their families and friends celebrating the long-awaited union. But for Paige and Azzi, in that moment, nothing else matters but the person in their arms—their forever.
As they pull back from the kiss, a ripple of laughter runs through the crowd, drawing Paige and Azzi’s attention to a small commotion near the aisle. Jayden, who had somehow managed to wiggle free from Katie’s grasp, was clumsily making his way up the altar, his tiny legs moving with determined speed.
"Jayden!" Katie whispered out, trying to catch him, but he was already halfway there, his little face beaming with excitement at his mothers.
Paige chuckled, bending down to meet him as he reached the top. "Hey, buddy, what are you doing up here?" she asked, scooping him up effortlessly. But as soon as he was in her arms, Jayden leaned forward, his small hands reaching for Azzi.
"Mamma!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with pure joy.
Azzi laughed softly, stepping closer to take him from Paige’s hands. "You just couldn’t wait, could you?" she murmured, cradling him easily.
Jayden nestled into Azzi’s arms, his tiny fingers brushing her face as he babbled happily, completely oblivious to the significance of the moment. Paige leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to Jayden’s temple, her heart full as she took in the sight of their little family.
Together, the three of them turned to face their guests, who were still applauding and cheering. Paige reached for Azzi’s free hand, lacing their fingers together, while Jayden waved excitedly at the crowd, basking in the attention he thought he was getting.
As they began their exit, walking down the aisle as a newly married couple, Jayden’s laughter filled the air, a perfect counterpoint to the joyous celebration around them. The three of them moved in sync, a seamless unit, their love evident to everyone watching.
As they reached the dressing room, Azzi gently shifted Jayden in her arms before setting him down on the carpeted floor. "Alright, Jay," she said with a grin, ruffling his hair. "Go burn off some of that energy while Mommy and I get ready."
He didn’t need any more encouragement. He immediately toddled over to the vanity table, his tiny hands reaching for a brush and a bottle of lotion, his curiosity piqued at their shapes.
Azzi shook her head with a soft laugh. "He's always into something," she said, turning toward Paige, who was already stepping closer.
"Let him," Paige murmured, her voice low as she reached for Azzi's hands, pulling her gently toward her. Without hesitation, Paige leaned in, her lips capturing Azzi's in a slow, deliberate kiss. Her hands slid up Azzi's arms, pulling her closer as her body pressed against hers.
Azzi exhaled softly, her resolve melting as she got lost in the kiss, her hands instinctively resting on Paige’s neck. For a moment, everything else disappeared—their surroundings, the noise from outside the dressing room, even Jayden’s little voice humming in the background. It was just them, tangled in each other, the weight of the day momentarily forgotten.
But then, a soft clattering noise from Jayden’s direction pulled Azzi back to reality. She broke the kiss reluctantly, her forehead pressing against Paige's as she laughed breathlessly. "Paige," she whispered, her voice filled with a mix of amusement and warning, "We can’t. Jay’s right there, baby."
Paige grinned, her lips brushing against Azzi’s again in a teasing peck. "He’s busy," she said, her tone playful.
Azzi shook her head, stepping back slightly but not releasing Paige’s hands. "I know, but if he turns around and sees anything, we’re going to have to explain why Mommy and Mama are glued together."
Paige smirked, her thumb brushing over the back of Azzi's hand. "Fair point," she conceded with a soft laugh, stealing one last quick kiss before stepping back.
They both turned toward Jay, who was now intensely focused on trying to twist the cap off the lotion bottle now. Azzi crossed her arms, shaking her head. "We should probably intervene before he figures out how to make a mess."
Paige chuckled, walking over to scoop Jayden up in one swift motion. "Come here, troublemaker," she said, peppering his cheek with kisses as he giggled and squirmed in her arms.
Azzi watched them with a smile, her heart full as she took in the sight of her wife and son. "Alright," she said, grabbing the garment bag hanging on the nearby chair. "Let’s get ready for the reception before mister here decides to redecorate the room."
With laughter and lighthearted teasing, the three of them prepared for the next part of their perfect day.


The reception was in full swing, a joyful whirlwind of music, dancing, and heartfelt laughter. Azzi and Paige had been glued to each other all evening, their newlywed glow impossible to miss. Jayden had been whisked away earlier by Geno, who proclaimed his role as babysitter with such conviction that even Katie and Tim had no choice but to relent, laughing as they handed over the toddler and his overnight bag. 
As the night progressed, Paige’s affection toward Azzi grew bolder, fueled by a steady stream of drinks courtesy of Jon, Jose, and Drew, who had made it their personal mission to keep her glass perpetually full for whatever reason.
Earlier in the evening, as they moved through the crowd, Azzi mingled effortlessly, stopping every so often to chat with family and friends. Paige, however, was focused entirely on her wife, trailing close behind and using every opportunity to whisper suggestive comments into Azzi’s ear.
“Baby, do you realize how good you look tonight?” Paige murmured as they paused near the bar. Her lips brushed against Azzi’s ear, sending a shiver down her spine.
Azzi tried to keep her composure, offering polite smiles to those around them. “Thank you, love. So do you.”
“Hmm, you think so?” Paige teased, her hand resting on the small of Azzi’s back. She leaned closer, her voice dropping to a sultry whisper. “Because I think this dress is unfair. Do you know how hard it is to keep my hands to myself when you look this good?”
Azzi blushed, shooting her a look. “Paige, behave. We’re not alone.”
Paige grinned, unbothered by the warning. “Doesn’t matter. I’m your wife now. Pretty sure that gives me the right to tell you exactly how much I want to peel this dress off you later.”
Azzi’s cheeks burned as she bit back a laugh, shaking her head. “You’re insane.”
“And you’re irresistible,” Paige countered smoothly, her lips brushing against Azzi’s neck just enough to make her catch her breath before lightly smacking Paige’s stomach.
By the time they made it back around to the table, Paige’s teasing had reached new heights. They sat among a group of their old UConn teammates—Nika, KK, Ice, Aubrey, Caroline, Jana, Sarah, and Morgan—all of whom were thoroughly entertained by Paige’s antics.
Azzi was trying her best to engage in the lively conversation about their time in college, but Paige was making it nearly impossible. She kissed Azzi’s arm, then her shoulder, her lips trailing up to her neck as Azzi squirmed slightly in her seat.
"Paige, baby," Azzi whispered softly, attempting to pull back.
"Shh," Paige murmured, brushing her lips against Azzi’s ear. "Just let me kiss you. I’ve been waiting all day for this."
"She’s been waiting all day, Azzi," Nika quipped, laughing as she caught sight of Paige’s antics. "Let the girl have her moment."
Azzi shot her a playful glare. "You’re not helping."
"She’s a lover, what can we say?" KK added with a smirk.
"I can’t help it," Paige declared dramatically, wrapping an arm around Azzi’s waist. "Have you seen her tonight? She’s perfect."
“Okay, Paige, we get it,” Ice teased, raising her glass. “You’re married now. You won.”
"Exactly," Paige said, her voice dropping as she leaned closer to Azzi again. Her hand slid to Azzi’s thigh under the table, her lips brushing against her ear. "And later, when we’re alone, I promise I’m going to show you just how much I love you."
Azzi’s breath hitched, and she gently pushed Paige’s hand away. "Paige," she murmured, her voice firm but affectionate. "Not here baby."
Paige pouted, but the glint in her eye remained mischievous. "You’re no fun," she teased, resting her head on Azzi’s shoulder as the table erupted in laughter.
"You would think after all these years Paige wouldn’t still be this horny," Jana remarked, grinning from ear to ear.
Azzi laughed, her shoulders shaking as she responded, "I knew I was never going to get a break from day one, but I’ve learned to accept it," she added, looking at Paige.
"She’s going to tear into you," Aubrey said, shaking her head with a grin.
"You don’t say," Azzi replied dryly, though the fondness in her tone was unmistakable.
As the conversation continued, Paige remained firmly attached to Azzi, her lips brushing against her neck and cheek whenever she thought no one was looking. Azzi did her best to stay composed, but her teammates saw through it, exchanging amused glances.
"Azzi," Caroline teased, raising an eyebrow. "How are you even still upright right now?"
Azzi laughed, giving Paige’s hand a light squeeze. "It’s not easy, trust me," she replied, her gaze softening as she looked at her wife.
Paige grinned, pressing another kiss to Azzi’s cheek. "Good thing you’re strong, then," she murmured, her voice low enough that only Azzi could hear.
"Good thing I love you," Azzi replied, shaking her head as Paige beamed at her, utterly unapologetic.


The two of them had drifted away from the group trying to get a moment alone amidst all the chaos. They were now tucked into a quieter corner table, the low lighting casting a warm glow over their entwined figures. Paige was still draped over Azzi, her lips brushing against her neck and collarbone as her hand rested possessively on Azzi’s thigh. By now, Azzi, having indulged in her fair share of drinks, was no longer holding back. She leaned fully into Paige’s affection, a soft, pleased smile tugging at her lips.
Azzi leaned into Paige’s touch, her breath quickening as Paige’s fingers gently tugged at the fabric of her dress. She let out a soft, pleased hum, feeling the heat between her legs intensify. Her hand found its way into Paige’s hair, gently pulling her closer, encouraging her to kiss the sensitive spot just beneath her ear.
“You’re killing me, you know that?” Azzi whispered, her voice thick with desire as she tilted her head, giving Paige more access.
Paige’s lips brushed over Azzi’s skin, her voice low and urgent. “I can’t stop,” she murmured, fingers lightly tugging at the fabric of Azzi’s dress again, her touch sending sparks through Azzi’s body. “You feel so good, just like this.”
Azzi’s breath caught, and she leaned in, her lips brushing against Paige’s ear. “You make me feel good, too,” she purred, the warmth of her breath sending a shiver down Paige’s spine.
Paige’s eyes darkened, the intensity of her gaze never leaving Azzi’s. Her fingers moved higher on Azzi’s thigh, inching dangerously close to where they both wanted her touch the most. “You’re so perfect,” Paige whispered, her lips grazing the side of Azzi’s neck again, her words dripping with want. “I can’t wait to feel all of you in my hand.”
Azzi’s body responded immediately, her chest rising and falling with shallow breaths as she bit her lip, fighting the urge to close the space between them completely with them still being in public. “You’ve been teasing me all night,” she murmured, her voice coming out breathlessly as she met Paige’s eyes. “I don’t know how much longer I can stand it.”
Paige’s lips found Azzi’s neck again, this time lingering there, pressing slow kisses along the skin. Her fingers traced the hem of Azzi’s dress, slipping under it just slightly as she tugged the fabric again, a subtle but clear request for more.
Azzi let out a low moan, her hand gripping Paige’s shoulder as she gave in to the temptation. “Paige...” she whispered, her voice rough with desire. “I can’t wait, baby. I want you. Right now.”
Paige’s breath hitched at the sound of Azzi’s words, the intensity of her longing for her wife growing. “God, Azzi,” she murmured, her lips brushing against her wife’s ear again, voice thick with need. “You have no idea what I wanna do to you.”
Azzi purred softly, her fingers now threading through Paige’s hair, tugging her face closer, her lips meeting Paige’s in a desperate, desperate kiss. “I think I do,” she whispered between kisses. “And I love every second of imagining it.”
Paige responded with a hum of satisfaction, her hand sliding higher on Azzi’s thigh, pulling her even closer. Their bodies moved against each other, the urgency of their desire palpable in their kiss. Neither of them could get enough.
But just as their kiss deepened, the air around them changed with a loud laugh echoing from the main reception area, shattering their intimate bubble. The sound cut through the haze of desire, pulling their attention back to reality.
Azzi broke the kiss, her eyes flicking to Paige, a mischievous smile tugging at her lips. “Guess we’re not alone after all,” she murmured, reluctantly pulling back just enough to meet Paige’s gaze.
Paige let out a frustrated sigh, her fingers still tracing the curve of Azzi’s thigh. “Too bad,” she said, her voice low and husky, though there was a playful spark in her eyes. “I was just starting to enjoy myself.”
Azzi chuckled softly, resting her forehead against Paige’s for a brief moment before pulling back to glance toward the reception. “Me too,” she agreed, though the fire in her eyes remained undiminished. 
Both women groaned softly, reluctant to return to the party. Paige rested her forehead against Azzi’s again for a moment, her voice quiet but firm. “This isn’t over,” she murmured, her lips brushing against Azzi’s.
Azzi smirked, her thumb brushing over Paige’s cheek. “It better not be,” she whispered, her eyes gleaming with anticipation.
Their stolen moment left them both buzzing, hearts racing as they turned their attention back to the lively reception, counting down the moments until they could finally be alone.


When they finally reached their hotel room, the door had barely clicked shut before Paige spun Azzi around and pressed her firmly against it. The force of the move drew a startled gasp from Azzi, her back hitting the wood as Paige’s long fingers wrapped possessively around her throat.
Their lips immediately collided in a messy, passionate kiss, all restraint from earlier completely gone now. Paige’s movements were uncoordinated but intense, her need for Azzi clear as their tongues tangled. Azzi moaned into her mouth, her hands gripping Paige’s shoulders for balance, completely lost in the moment.
Paige didn’t waste a second. Her knee slid between Azzi’s legs, pressing up just enough to draw a sharp inhale from her wife. Azzi panted against Paige’s lips, her head tipping back slightly as Paige broke the kiss and began trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down her neck.
“You look so good like this ma,” Paige whispered against Azzi’s skin, her voice a mix of slur and desire. Her teeth grazed Azzi’s collarbone before her lips followed, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. “Do you know how long I’ve been thinking about this? About making you mine like this?”
Azzi shuddered, her hands clutching the fabric of Paige’s shirt as she let out a soft laugh, her voice shaky but teasing. “You’re acting like you haven’t already had me a million times,” she murmured, her words broken by a gasp as Paige’s knee pressed harder against her.
Paige smirked against her neck, her grip on Azzi’s throat tightening ever so slightly. “Not like this baby,” she murmured, her voice thick with intent. “This is different. You’re my wife now. Forever mine.”
Paige’s words hung in the air, thick with promise, but before she could fully process the weight of them, Azzi’s hands were on her shoulders, pulling her in for another kiss. This one was frantic, desperate—a reflection of both their needs, the alcohol still thick on their breaths as they kissed wildly. Their lips barely met before they pulled away, only to crash together again. The kiss was messy, unrefined, but that was the point—it was as if neither of them could get close enough, couldn’t have enough of the other after today.
Azzi’s fingers tightened in Paige’s hair as she broke the kiss, panting against her lips. “You’re mine too, Paige,” Azzi breathed out, voice ragged. “Forever.”
Paige’s heart raced at the sound of Azzi’s declaration, but Azzi wasn’t done. She pushed gently against Paige’s shoulders, urging her to kneel before her. Paige didn’t hesitate, following the command without question. She sank to her knees in front of Azzi, eyes dark with desire as she looked up at her wife.
Azzi took a small step back, then looked down at Paige, her own eyes dark and needy. Without missing a beat, she ran her fingers through Paige’s hair, guiding her forward. Paige’s lips trailed up Azzi’s legs, leaving kisses as she went, the sensation sending tremors through Azzi’s body.
Azzi’s breath hitched with every kiss. “God, Paige,” she gasped, her voice shaky as Paige’s lips pressed against her thighs as she pushed her dress up, leaving marks in their wake. Each kiss made her more vocal, unable to hold back the sounds of pleasure bubbling up from deep within her. Her fingers tightened in Paige’s hair as she pulled her closer, desperate for more.
Paige’s lips moved higher, leaving teasing kisses up the inside of Azzi’s thigh. “Imma make you feel so good baby,” Paige muttered against her skin, the words almost reverent. She wasn’t just speaking, she was showing it—the pressure of her lips and hands as she kissed Azzi’s thinly covered center, fueling the desire that had been building since the moment they stepped into the room.
Azzi’s body shivered with each kiss. “Fuck, Paige,” she breathed, her voice raw. She ran her fingers through Paige’s hair, pulling impossibly closer to her as she looked down at her wife. “You don’t even know how much I need you right now.”
Paige responded with a low groan as she pushed her underwear to the side, her lips and tongue brushing against Azzi, this time slower, more deliberate, as she gazed up at her wife through her hooded blue eyes. “Nah baby I can tell. You taste so good for me.” 
Azzi’s breath catches in her throat, her chest rising and falling with each labored inhale. She runs her fingers through Paige’s hair, tugging her closer, as if desperate for more. “You make it so hard to think, Paige
” Azzi whispers, her voice shaky. “Every time you look at me like that, I forget everything. I forget who I am.”
Paige smiles, as she continues her work as Azzi grinds her hips into Paige trying to create more friction despite Paige lapping at her like she hadn’t had Azzi in years. “Baby, fuck, you feel so good” Azzi whimpers. Paige simply hums at this as she drapes Azzi’s leg over her shoulder to drive her tongue in deeper.
Azzi throws her head back against the door, gripping Paige’s head and anything else she can to steady herself. With her voice low and breathy and tinged with awe she says, “Mmm I knew you’d be like this tonight–Fuck baby don’t stop–I love it when you fuck me like this baby. Feels so good.”  
Azzi’s words spur Paige on more as she continues her work expertly, knowing exactly what Azzi likes after all these years. The pressure of Paige’s tongue makes Azzi’s breath catch, her eyes fluttering closed as she becomes overwhelmed with the feeling but she leans into it, pushing her hips towards Paige as the tension coils tighter in her stomach. 
Azzi is basically riding Paige’s face as Paige looks up at her mumbling, “You gonna come for me baby?” 
She makes the mistake of looking down at Paige whose mouth is wet and her pupils are completely dilated. Azzi immediately throws her head back as she starts making pornographic sounds with her throat, “Mmm fuck Paige baby–No
no not yet baby. Fuck I don’t want it to end you’re doing so good.” 
This only spurs Paige on more at her wife not wanting to come undone for her so she drives her tongue deeper as she works her thumb in circles. Azzi’s body trembles, her eyes now watching Paige despite every instinct inside her wanting her to look away. She’s fighting the pull of pleasure that wants her to come undone right at this moment even though she knows Paige doesn’t like that. 
Azzi’s eyes are blurry now as she tries to keep herself under control for a few more seconds but Paige curls her tongue a certain way and Azzi finds releasing the tension in her stomach, “Yes
yes right there baby
 don’t stop baby. Right there please. I’m ready to cum for you baby” Azzi gasps her body arching off of the door as she feels a wave of sensation crashing through her as her mouth falls open in pure bliss, her legs shaking as Paige holds her up.  
Before Azzi can fully recover Paige is kissing up her body leaving open mouth kisses in Azzi’s favorite spots. Once she reaches her lips Paige immediately pulls Azzi in for a kiss, putting her tongue in her wifes mouth so she can taste herself causing Azzi to moan. 
As their kiss deepens, Paige’s hands slide down Azzi’s body, one of them drifting behind her, fingers grazing her spine. And with a slight tug, she unzips Azzi’s dress, the sound of the zipper scraping against the fabric filling the air between them. Azzi moans into the kiss as the fabric loosens exposing her back to the air, before Paige pulls it down with ease, revealing the purple lingerie beneath. The sight makes Paige’s breath hitch, her eyes darkening further if possible as she gazes at her wife standing in front of her.
Azzi's hands press firmly against Paige’s chest, gently pushing her back toward the bed, her lips swollen and flushed, her breathing ragged. "Get on the bed for me, baby," Azzi demands in a voice thick with need, her hands already moving to the buttons of Paige’s shirt before she just pulls at the fabric with urgency, the buttons flying off in every direction, scattering across the floor.
Paige lets out a breathy laugh, the moment only spurring her desire. She stands still, letting Azzi remove the shirt, her skin now exposed except for the tight-fitting tank top she’s wearing underneath. Azzi runs her hands over Paige’s bare skin, her fingers grazing over her ribs, before locking eyes with her and dragging her hand down her torso. “You look so good, baby,” Azzi whispers, her voice low, full of hunger and admiration.
Paige smiles, her heart racing, as she climbs onto the bed, pulling Azzi along with her. Azzi follows, crawling up to her in the most seductive way as she moves with an almost hypnotic rhythm that makes Paige want to take her right there again and again. When Azzi finally straddles Paige, the sight is enough to send Paige’s heart into overdrive. Her breath catches as she whispers, "You have no idea what you do to me. Even after all these years.” 
Azzi’s lips curled into a teasing smile, her confidence radiating as she leaned down to press her mouth against Paige’s neck. She moved slowly, her kisses deliberate and sensual, each one igniting a trail of shivers that coursed through Paige’s body. Azzi had perfected this art over time, each touch an unspoken testament to how well she knew Paige—every sensitive spot, every little weakness.
Her long hair tumbled to one side, the strands brushing against Paige’s skin and adding to the electric intimacy of the moment. Azzi kissed her way lower, unhurried, savoring the effect she was having as Paige’s breath quickened, her body instinctively arching into Azzi’s.
When Azzi’s hands found their way to Paige’s belt, her movements were smooth and practiced, each motion deliberate, carrying the weight of countless nights like this, where Azzi had mastered the balance of teasing and taking control. With a flick of her fingers, the belt came undone, her slow pace almost maddening, a silent assertion of her dominance in this moment which started as soon as she had Paige on her knees for her. Paige’s breath hitched, a sound that sent a satisfied smirk spreading across Azzi’s lips.
The way Azzi carried herself now, every kiss, every touch, was brimming with the ease of someone who knew exactly what she was doing. Their years together had transformed their intimacy into something deeper, richer—a choreography of passion honed by countless nights of exploration and learning each other’s bodies.
“Still with me, baby?” Azzi whispered against Paige’s skin, her voice velvet-soft but dripping with confidence, knowing full well that Paige was at her mercy.
Paige throws her head back in pleasure, her hands gripping the sheets. In that moment, she realizes how completely she’s fallen into Azzi’s orbit—how grateful she is that she crossed that line with her all those years ago. That night, when she had first given in to Azzi's pull, back when they were just friends, and how it changed everything between them. Now, after everything they’ve been through, after their wedding, this moment felt like the perfect culmination of everything they had built together. She’s never been this sure, this needy for someone in the way she is for Azzi.. 
“God, Azzi,” Paige breathes out, her voice raw with desire as she lifts her hips slightly, giving Azzi more access.
Azzi grins, pulling the belt free with a soft tug before gliding her hands under the waistband of Paige’s pants. The anticipation is almost unbearable, and yet, Azzi takes her time, savoring every second. “You’re my wife now,” Azzi murmurs, her voice low and full of intention, as her hands slowly inch the fabric down.
The words send a rush of heat through Paige, and for a split second, she’s left wondering how she ever lived without this intensity, this connection. The thought lingers, and she shivers in anticipation as Azzi finally pulls the pants down, exposing more of Paige’s skin.
Azzi runs her hands over Paige’s legs, feeling the warmth of her body, the soft curves beneath her fingertips. The contact is electric, and it’s almost too much for Paige to handle. "God Azzi, I don’t know how you make me feel like this," Paige manages to gasp, lifting her hips again, silently begging Azzi to take control, to take her.
Azzi pauses, her gaze locking with Paige’s, her eyes dark with desire. “Let me show you,” Azzi whispers, leaning down to kiss her again. But this time, it’s slower—deeper. Azzi’s lips trace the curve of Paige’s jaw, down her neck, stopping to leave a trail of heated kisses that make Paige’s pulse quicken.
Each kiss is a promise, each touch a question Azzi asks without words. Paige can’t help but respond, her hands reaching for Azzi’s bra, unclasping it free from her body, desperate to feel her bare skin against hers. The fabric falls to the floor, and Paige’s fingers wander to the skimpy waistband of Azzi’s underwear, mimicking the way Azzi had undressed her moments ago, eager to return the pleasure.
Azzi’s lips find their way to Paige’s ear, where she whispers, “You want me again, don’t you? Want me as much as I want you?”
Paige nods, her breathing ragged as she pulls Azzi closer, wrapping her legs around her waist. “More than anything,” she whispers back, her voice trembling with the intensity of the moment.
Azzi pulls back just enough to meet her eyes again, her gaze softening for a moment, a glimmer of affection mixed with the raw desire between them. “You have me, Paige. All of me
forever.” Then she kisses her deeply once more, taking the time to savor the connection between them, each kiss a declaration of everything they’ve built, everything they’re about to share.
The weight of everything settles in as Paige pulls Azzi close, the years of being apart, of growing their family together, and the joy of finally, fully being together. This moment is everything they’ve worked for, everything they’ve fought for. And as their hands trace each other’s bodies, as they continue to lose themselves in each other, Paige realizes that this is it—the final chapter. Their journey, their story, culminating here, in this moment of complete love and understanding. It’s not just the start of a new life together; it’s the closing of a long, beautiful journey.
As the kiss lingers between them, soft and filled with everything they’ve learned about each other, about love, the two of them finally fall into the peace that only being truly with each other can bring. There are no more games, no more uncertainties, just the two of them, completely and utterly intertwined in a love that has lasted years, and will continue forever.
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traceyc-uk · 16 hours ago
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Hi, Tracey! I just wanted to drop by and tell you how much I admire you and your art! You’ve been such an inspiration to me and many other artists out there. The way you draw comics and character expressions is incredible, and I often use your art as a reference whenever I’m struggling đŸ«Ł TNFY stole the hearts of so many people, and you both deserve all the love and praise! I hope you have a wonderful rest of the year and happy holidays! â›„ïžđŸŽ
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Uh
 g-g-guys!
I think you broke me with that message and utterly adorable comic (it brought out the cute aggression in the snowman 😅) am bedside myself you actually made this 😭 excuse me whilst I fangirl over here to Lyla and nfy, they are so cute!!! as are you!đŸ«”đŸœ And what! No, too hard to believe that as one’ve my favourite artists 🙈 Thank you for absolutely charming and inspiring us with your stories and art!!! đŸ„čđŸ˜­đŸ«‚đŸ’•
Happy Holidays đŸŽâ˜ƒïžâ˜„ïžđŸ’„
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zepskies · 22 hours ago
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Ahaha I had a feeling all Dean girls would connect with that part. 😘
She had to get caught, right? For the ✹drama.✹ 😝 And of course Dean didn't take it well. He's over here trying to make sure she doesn't find about more about him, and more specifically about the supernatural, and she's over here uncovering ALL the secrets (not just invading his privacy). 😅
Yes I had to make sure you guys knew I didn't actually write those excerpts, but thank you so much for saying they were woven in well into the fabric of the story. I really appreciate that! đŸ„čđŸ„č Honestly I thinks it's amazing that you teared up a bit at that part! A lot of that is just the weight of John's words. Kudos to whoever wrote that "merch" lol. Because reading them gave me those same feels, so I tried my best to make sure they had weight here with how the reader reacted to them. 💕
I had a feeling those quiet moments wouldn’t last before the drama kicked in, but that moment felt so pivotal, like a real turning point in them opening up to each other even more. Brilliant chapter! 💕
Ooh yeah, the quiet couldn't last forever. 😅 I'm so glad it felt like a pivotal moment though!! This really is a turning point for them in their relationship moving forward, and you'll see how that unveils itself in Part 3. Thank you so much, friend!! đŸ„č💓💓
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Against the Wind - Part 2
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Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x F. Omega!Reader 
Summary: You wake up in a strange alpha’s cabin in the middle of a snowstorm, all with a busted ankle. He holds shadows in his eyes, even though his hands are gentle. There are iron shutters around his heart, even though he saved you. You might just save him in return.
AN: Thank you guys so much for all the amazing feedback on Part 1! Now, most of your theories and questions will be answered...
Jacklesverse Bingo24 Prompt: True Mates @jacklesversebingo
Song Inspo: “Against the Wind” by Bob Seger
Word Count: 3.8K
Tags/Warnings: Angst, and peril, the other kind of "hunting."
Series Masterlist || Bingo Masterlist
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Part 2: Seems Like Yesterday
“I’ll raise you 25,” you say, tossing five chocolate covered pretzels into the middle pile. It’s a risky bet, considering how much you lost in the last hand. Dean regards you with an amused, if critical eye while he holds his cards.
“Ooh, you’re bluffing,” he says. You pop your brows at him, a subtle smile tugging at your lips.
“You want to test that theory? Put your money where your mouth is,” you challenge.
He tilts his head at you with a raise of his own brows.
“Cheeky omega,” he mutters. His attention returns to his cards as he deliberates on his next move.
You attempt to be nonchalant as you glance down at your cards again. It’s a shitty hand, but he doesn’t need to know that. The alpha’s won the last two hands of Texas Hold ‘Em, but you did win the first one. Though you suspect he let you win.
You want to at least even the score before he resumes his work out in the shed. He spends most of his time there during the day, or making sure the firewood is stocked. It seems like he takes any excuse not to spend too much time in your presence.
More than anything, you want to ask him if he feels what you feel—the same tug in the pit of your stomach every time he’s nearby. You just haven’t found a way to broach that with him.
Hey, I know we just met like two minutes ago, but I think we’re supposed to be together. Do you feel it too?
You nearly roll your eyes at yourself. Yeah, that’ll go over well.
So you have to be content with mornings like this and in the evenings, where he lets you put on one of his records, and you two share dinner together, maybe another round of cards. Or you’ll read a book while lounging on the chaise, and he lays out on the couch, listening to his music with his eyes closed. You like watching him like that, with a relaxed, damn near peaceful set to his face.
Too often he holds that harder, stoic expression, or that divot between his brows that makes you want to soothe two of your fingers there; or better yet, lean in and press your lips—
“It’s your move,” Dean reminds you. He’s finally played his hand, but you were too distracted to hear what he said.
“What’d you do?” you ask, surveying the piles of cards.
“Call,” he repeats, popping a few pretzels into his mouth. He washes it down with beer and more barbeque chips. Those are worth $10 in this little fantasy betting. He points a finger towards you with the same hand that holds his beer, teasing, “You got all the lights on in there? Or am I boring you?”
You glance up at him, fighting a smile. “All right, keep your pants on. Let me see
”
As the dealer, he’s already turned over the River: the last card in the hand. It’s a 10 of Clubs, which means your One Pair is actually a Two Pair. It’s still not a great hand, but it’s decent enough to maybe let you get the best of your opponent.
After you go “all in,” Dean’s lips twitch at a smile, and he humors you, going all in as well. You’re on tenterhooks when he finally reveals his hand.
“Ooh, it ain’t a cheesy ‘90s sitcom, but it’s still
a Full House,” he brags as he lays out each card in a smooth line of overlapping cards, the mix of glossy red diamonds and black spades showing the truth. He won again.
You huff in defeat, your shoulders sinking in your seat at the kitchen table. You turn over your measly hand. Sweeping the winnings toward himself (a mound of chocolate covered pretzels, a stack of barbecue chips, and a handful of Oreos), Dean chuckles and tosses you a wink.
“Ah, don’t beat yourself up, sweetheart. I’ve been hustlin’ poker for a long time. Hell, I’ve been playing this game before I even knew my times tables,” he says as he collects the cards.
“That young?” you reply. “Who taught you?”
“My dad,” he says. “Oh, believe me, I used to get my ass kicked many a’ time, but by the time I turned sixteen, I was hustlin’ grown ass men in skeevy bars out of their daily paycheck.”
“You were hanging out in bars at sixteen?” you ask incredulously. There, Dean seems to realize he’s said too much. He becomes more guarded as he puts away the deck and cleans the crumbs off the table.
“My dad was always working. You could say I didn’t really have a curfew,” he says.
“A latchkey kid, huh?” you reply, hiding the way you’re trying so hard to glean any more hints of truth between his words.
“Heh, yeah.” He gets up from the table and tosses the breakfast dishes in the sink, then travels to the front door to don his jacket and boots.
“All right, I’ll be out back,” he says.
Out back, code for out in the shed. You nod, and in a flash, he’s shutting the door behind him.
You’ve learned another small tidbit about him, one that feels more important than it seems on the surface. And yet, it only elicits more questions you doubt he’ll be willing to answer so easily. He’s more than tight-lipped about his past, only giving vague outlines and general pictures.
Even his stories—like being raised up in a family of traveling mechanics, putting Nair in Sam’s shampoo when he was a kid, or the guy’s serious fear of clowns—feel like they’re missing some key details.
You decide to take up your crutches and head for your room. There you unearth the journal from its hiding place under your pillow. This time, you turn to the very beginning. Before all the jargon about mythology (and an odd footnote about a “Turducken Slammer”), there are actual journal entries. The first one dates back to November 6, 1983. The first line already captures your attention.
I buried my wife today. Even as I write that down, I don’t believe it. Last week we were a normal family
eating dinner, going to Dean’s T-ball game, buying toys for baby Sammy. But in an instant, it all changed
 When I try to think back, get it all straight in my head
I feel like I’m going crazy. Like someone ripped both my arms off, plucked my eyes out. I’m wandering around, alone and lost and I can’t do anything.
This is Dean’s father, you realize. The more that you read, with no small amount of dismay, you also realize that this man is writing about his wife, Mary.
Dean’s mom

He writes about their house burning with all their memories inside, along with Mary. Somehow, he saw her pinned bloody to the ceiling.
Along with these pages is a clipping from a news story:
House Fire Kills Mother of Two
Lawrence, Kansas.
You’re spellbound by it all. You keep reading.
November 13, 1983

Most of our clothes and photos are ruined, even our safe—the safe with Mary’s old diaries, the boys’ savings bonds, what little jewelry we had
all gone. How could my house, my whole life, go up like that, so fast, so hot? How could my wife just burn up and disappear?
The police don’t believe his story, about how she died before the fire, about what he saw. So he tries to convince himself that what he saw wasn’t real. Still, he can’t find rest, and he worries about his sons’ safety.
December 4, 1983
I haven’t let them out of my sight since the fire. Dean still hardly talks. I try to make small talk, or ask him if he wants to throw the baseball around. Anything to make him feel like a normal kid again. He never budges from my side—or from his brother.
Every morning when I wake up, Dean is inside the crib, arms wrapped around baby Sam. Like he’s trying to protect him from whatever is out there in the night.
Sammy cries a lot, wanting his mom. I don’t know how to stop it, and part of me doesn’t want to. It breaks my heart to think that soon he won’t remember her at all.
You don’t realize you’re crying until a droplet lands on the page. You quickly wipe it away before it becomes a stain, and you dry it all the way with your breath before you move on to the next page, sniffling. Your heart hurts, even as your guilt grows. You know now that you’re really, truly invading Dean’s privacy by reading his father’s words. You just can’t stop yourself from turning the next page.
John becomes convinced that someone, or something, started the fire that destroyed his life and took his wife away from him and his sons. He leaves his job and the remnants of that world behind, to venture deeper into the darker one. But in that darkness, he finds truth.
He visits a psychic, Missouri, who leads him back to his house and senses the echoes of an evil presence—something that shakes her to the core, and John too: the creature that killed his wife.
December 20

She told me that it was the most powerful, awful thing she’s ever come across.
On January 1, 1984, John makes a New Year’s resolution. He determines to find the answers himself.
A shiver runs down your spine. In John’s words, your heart breaks for Dean, but you also see yourself. You try not to think about why.
You keep flipping through the rest of the journal past January. There are translations of a Latin exorcism, and like you read before, strange drawing of evil looking creatures—as well as what they are, scraps of their history, and how to kill them.
Silver bullet to the heart, can’t withstand iron, salt and burn.
You pause on a certain page, more filled with lore than the rest, and a primitive drawing in the center.
WENDIGO
Cree: Evil that devours.
Wood spirit. Eats live flesh. Lives in forests.
Perfect hunter.
Your breath stills in your lungs as a cold sweat forms across your skin. The more you read, the faster your heart beats.
The crunch of dead leaves. Your father shouting at you to run, and keep running.
The coarse shout of a bear morphs into something other. It’s a sharper, whirring sound like wind howling amidst animalistic clicking, and then bones breaking—your father’s scream cut short. You turn around with your rifle in hand, poised to shoot blindly.
Your stomach churns as bile rises into your throat. You feel sick, and wrong, and you suddenly have the urge to throw the journal against the wall.
“Omega?” calls Dean’s sharp voice. “You okay?”
You jolt badly at the sudden noise. You didn’t hear him reenter the house. He likely caught the scent of your distress. He pushes the door of your room open to find you, but he stops short in the doorway. His surprise quickly morphs into a frown when he notices what you’re holding in your lap.
You gasp, freezing where you sit, but there’s no point in trying to cover up what you’ve done. With an angry purse of his lips, he reaches over and takes the journal from your hands.
“What the hell are you doing with this?” he demands.
“I’m
I’m sorry. I just—” You swallow past the lump in your throat. “I was just curious. I wanted to know more about you. I thought it was
a normal journal.”
“So this is how you go about it, huh? Got everything you wanted, Columbo?” he says, his sarcasm cutting into you. He flips through the journal to make sure all the pages are intact before he tucks the journal under his arm. “Seriously, going into somebody’s stuff? Who the hell raised you?”
At that, you begin to bristle.
“My dad,” you snap back. Though remembering the passages you’ve lived with for the past few hours, you soften with a painful twinge of sympathy in your heart. 
“And it looks like yours raised you to be some kind of
well, what are you, a ghostbuster or something?” you ask.
His jaw locks. “Or something.” 
With an exasperated sigh at his hedging, you swing your legs around the edge of the bed and haul yourself up with your crutches so you can at least match his stance (more or less).
“Dean, please, just talk to me,” you implore, gesturing at the journal tucked under his arm. “The things I read—”
“Are none of your goddamn business!” he growls, making the omega inside you cringe. The alpha’s voice is deep and sharp, and even though he isn’t crowding you, his height and broadness are still intimidating.
“The sooner you heal up, the sooner I can ship you back to where you belong,” he says. “Back to your life, so you can stop sticking your nose into mine.” 
Your mouth actually falls open in shock. His vehement words feel almost as powerful as a physical blow, if to your soul. They make your arms tremble while holding yourself upright on your crutches. Hot tears well up in your eyes, though you try to blink them away. After a moment, you’re able to collect yourself enough to speak.
“I’m sorry for going through your stuff,” you say, in a quiet voice.
You hobble awkwardly past him out of the room. You don’t stop until you reach the front door, where your snow boots are. You manage to get them on by yourself so you can go outside and get some fresh air, not to mention some much needed distance from the alpha’s burning presence. You can still feel him trailing behind you. You hear his heavy boots.
“Where the hell are you going?” he grits out.
You hobble faster.
Dean watches you go out the door without a word in irritation, even though it triggers an alarm deep in his gut every time you leave the safety of the cabin. 
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The snow depth has lightened somewhat since the storm, but it’s still not easy to navigate on your crutches. You get some distance from the cabin, mindful not to go too far. You know you’re limited, and you didn’t even take a gun with you.
Finding a solid tree to lean on, you rest there and try in vain to stifle your tears. You know you were wrong for snooping, and he had a right to be mad, but did he really have to be such a freakin’ bear? 
Fucking alphas. I swear.
You thought you were starting to connect with him, but clearly, Dean wants nothing to do with you. He wants you out of his life. 
Does he not feel the same pull you feel to him? Does he really not realize
that he’s meant to be your mate?
You take in a shaky breath through your nose. If he does, apparently he doesn’t care.
Just then, you hear the crunch of snow nearby. Twigs snapping.
Your body stiffens with a terrible memory—of that day in the woods. Your breath comes out in short puffs on the cold air, your eyes wide as you listen closely.
Hearing nothing, you allow yourself to breathe a little easier. You venture a few paces forward and to the right, but you stop shy of how it slopes downward. Some unnamed feeling tells you to look over the edge.
You lean over and cast your gaze down the slope, but all you see is snow and trees down below. With a shaky breath, you lean back and look out to the north again. Plodding along the trail, heading towards you, is a bear.
Oh shit

You remember Dean mentioning something about a bear passing by his cabin a couple of days before the storm. Looks like he’s back to make his rounds.
His fur is dark; from this distance, you can’t tell if it’s a black bear or a grizzly. It doesn’t make much difference when all you have on your person is a can of bear spray. His gait is massive, unhurried, but he lets out a braying sound when your gaze meets his, as if acknowledging you. He stops there for a moment, assessing. Your body locks up with fear.
The bear groans again, this time sharper. You finally snap out of your reverie and force your body to move slowly backward with your crutches spearing into the snow. The cabin isn’t that far, maybe thirty or forty yards at most. Still, the bear can probably beat you.
Instead of trying to run, you stand your ground and shout at the bear, hoping he’ll back off. Your voice dies in your throat when he rears up on his hind legs, with a loud roar. Trembling, you miss a step and get knocked back into the snow on your ass, your crunches falling out at your sides. You scramble inside your jacket for anything that might help you. 
Bear spray!
You hurry to get the cap off with shaking hands, but before you can even aim, the creature’s heave paws thudding into the ground in front of you—a gunshot rings out and hits the animal in the chest. 
The bear falters, then roars in pain and anger.
Two more shots finally bring it down to an even heavier thud, not far from your feet.
In this moment, these are the things you don’t know about Dean Winchester:
For one, the scent of an omega in distress always calls to an alpha’s protective instincts. But the scent of your abject fear feels like someone tried to rip his lungs out through his stomach.
Second, when he sees you there, your wide, shiny eyes filled with the remnants of panic, yet relief at the sight of him, it takes everything within him not to drop to his knees, grab you by the hair, sink his teeth into your neck and claim you, right there in the snow. Maybe then you’d start listening to him and stop taking your life into your hands.
Instead, his lips purse as he wracks his rifle and slings the strap of it over his shoulder. He stalks toward you and scoops you up, crutches and all. He brings you back to the cabin without a word.
His jaw is once again locked with silence and strain; he doesn’t trust himself to speak until he’s brought you inside and carried you over to the chaise. He sits beside you there and takes an inventory of you with his eyes.
“You okay?” he asks at last.
You manage to meet his gaze and give a little nod.
“Okay. Don’t move,” he says shortly. He gets up and goes to the kitchen, where he grabs a foldable set of knives and a cooler from under the sink.
You watch him in silence, and you realize he’s going back to gut the bear. You didn’t know that he actually hunted out here
well, hunted to eat. He continues to gather items in silence. It gets to a point where you can’t stand it, or his curtness, any longer.
“Thank you,” you say, halting his steps. Dean glances at you over his shoulder, then continues strapping up his supplies. He huffs in response.
“We’re gonna be eatin’ good for a while,” he says without looking at you. 
His attitude both hurts you and aggravates you, so much that you refuse to take it anymore. 
“Look, Dean. I’m sorry, okay? I shouldn’t have butted into your life,” you say. Frustrated tears well up in your eyes. Expelling a sharp sigh, you amend yourself. “I’m sorry for invading your privacy. I’m sorry about what you went through, and I’m
I’m sorry about your mom. I’m sorry for today. I’ll just
stay out of your way, and I’ll leave as soon as I can.”
Dean finally turns your way, but your lips tremble as you turn your face away from him and shut your eyes tightly against the salty burn of tears. Deep inside, his heart withers in his chest. He sighs and drops his supplies on the couch. He walks over with those heavy boots, and he sits on the edge of the chaise beside you. He hesitates for a moment, but eventually, he rests a warm, calloused hand on your arm and earns your tearful gaze. 
“I’m sorry. I, uh
shouldn’t have yelled at you,” he says. 
You sniff, quickly wiping away your embarrassing tears as they come. Your cheeks are hot with it.
“What is it you wanna know? About me,” he asks, surprising you that much more.
 Your mouth parts, but nothing comes out. It takes you some time to think, but the first thing that comes to your mind is

“Everything in that journal,” you say, licking your dry lips. “Is it real?”
Dean holds your gaze steadily. You know the truth without him having to say it, but he does.
“I was a hunter,” he says. “Those things you read about, I found ‘em. Killed ‘em. It was my job.”
“And now?” you ask, once that large bit of information has time to set into your brain.
His lips tug at a half smile. “Consider me
mostly retired.”
You exhale softly, and you nod. It earns a furrowed look from Dean.
“You don’t seem all that freaked out by this,” he says, with a more scrutinizing gaze on you.
“Should I be?” you say, with an unsteady laugh.
He raises his brows. “In my experience, yeah.”
You chew on the inside of your lip. You don’t know if you should even put into words what you’ve been holding onto for months. Like John, no one believed you. Even your own mother had started to look at you like you needed a shrink.
“Omega?” Dean presses. His green eyes are perceptive as they take in the conflicted look on your face. “There something you wanna tell me?”
You deliberate for a moment longer. Then, you release a sigh and glance down at your hands clenching in your lap.
“A few months ago, I lost my dad,” you begin.
Dean nods. “Yeah, you said—”
“I lost him in these woods,” you say.
That quiets the alpha.
You shake your head, and you find your words as the memories that have been haunting your nights return to you.
“Like I said, we used to go hiking here every year
”
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AN: Just so you know, all of the journal entries appear in the official "John's Journal" SPN merch. 😉
Next Time:
Unease prickles down your spine, though you don’t know why.
“Dad?” you whisper-yell, trying not to spook whatever animal might be out there.
A gunshot rings out, along with your dad’s voice in a shout. Your eyes widen in alarm, and you call his name louder, taking off in a run to find him.
You end up rising over a hill you hadn’t crossed before, but you see your dad below; you recognize his bright blue puffer jacket that Mom got him for his birthday. You call his name, and he looks up at you with fear in his eyes.
Not for himself, but for you.
▶ Keep Reading: Part 3
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pretty-bratty · 2 days ago
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đŸ–€STARKER MAFIA AU FIC REC POSTđŸ–€
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Hiii @livingtobethevillain !! First of all, thank you soooo much for your kind words about This Is Family Business, it means so much to me and I'm literally crying happy tears rn😭đŸ„č💜
I have a feeling that you might read more Mafia AU fics than I did, but I decided to make this post and share what I know!!
đŸ–€ @snowstark Masterlist has so many gems, and I think these fics were the first starker ones that I fell in love with. Especially (Mafia AUs): Lie To Me Once written with @vaguekiwi and Masterpiece written with @authoressofdarkness They both are in the masterlist with more amazing stuff.
đŸ–€ @professional-benaddict has this Masterlist, which includes Mafia AUs!! Also, Rafni loves this trope, and maybe can give more recs too??👀
đŸ–€ @starkerkitty has the fic Primed for Mercy written with @khalixascorner , which, I quote @starkerkitty , is "verrrrryyyyy smutty and features a bad Aunt May" ©
đŸ–€ And finally, the fic A Hole In The Head by @cagestark It's not finished, but it's.....amazing. Sort of my Roman Empire that I kept rereading and rereading and rereading, especially some chapters.👀 Like, writing this post made me want to read some of them againđŸ€Ł
If anyone wants to add some awesome Mafia AU recommendations, please share in the comments to this post, it will be amazing!!!
Let mafia take over the starker world (as if it hasn't already duuuh).
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quintessenceofdust88 · 1 day ago
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24 and bucktommy for the prompts, please? đŸ„ș
Ofc my darling! đŸ„čđŸ„č
24. tender
It's almost midnight. Tommy's house is dark except for warm yellow glow of the lamp and the Christmas lights in the living room. The bluetooth speaker on the corner is softly playing 'Love me Tender', and he has his arms around Evan's waist.
His boyfriend has a soft smile on his face as they slow dance to Elvis Presley's voice. Evan rests his head against Tommy's chest, his hands tenderly wrapped around his neck, his thumb rubbing soothing circles in Tommy's hair.
"I missed this", he murmurs, and Tommy hums in agreement, placing a gentle kiss to his forehead. "I missed you"
"I missed you too" Tommy whispers back, his voice thick with emotion. He doesn't think he can put in words how much he missed Evan during the month it took for him to come to his senses and beg for another chance. "Thank you for taking me back"
"Thank you for coming back for me" Evan says earnestly, raising his head so he can place a soft kiss to Tommy's mouth. It's chaste, and sweet, and not meant to lead to something else, at least not for now.
They have all the time in the world.
As they keep dancing, Elvis keeps singing, and Tommy can't help but sing along in Evan's year, a promise he intends to keep:
For my darlin', I love you
And I always will
--
How's that? I hope you enjoy it, darling, and have a great weekend! ♄
And if anyone else wants to, send me a number and I'll write you a mini story!
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zepskies · 3 days ago
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@lamentationsofalonelypotato
Merry Christmas, my friend!! â€ïžđŸ’š First of all, I'm so honored that 'Twas the Night gave you some inspiration! đŸ„č I'm excited to dive into this special Christmas edition of Take a Chance.
Aww poor Ben. I love how we start with shading in his past Christmases compared to what he's starting to experience now with the reader. We come at it from the same angle of headcanon, that Ben's mom was the only person who truly loved him in his family. So it was such a good detail that after she died, Christmases became just more of the same toxic/apathetic atmosphere with his father, compounded by the impact of his mom's death.
Of course he's having a hard time choosing a proper Christmas gift for her, because when was the last time he gave someone a gift because he genuinely loved them? I feel like Countess wouldn't be a good example lol. So what's going to be a reflection of the relationship he has now? Especially because she's not one for flashiness, or more materialistic gifts.
And as much as Ben loved that about you, it was only making this worse for him.
Yup. 😂😂
"Still not quite right?" She asks, adjusting the sleeves of her navy blue blazer. "We have some bigger jewel-" "It's not the fucking size." Ben snaps frustrated.
Lmfao come on, Ben. Let's not take this out on others. đŸ€Ł
"I'm not your fucking buddy." Ben sighs under his breath.
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Okay, Ben. You do you. đŸ€ŁđŸ€Ł
Ben had no intention of setting foot inside, but you were curious and even though it made Ben's throat tight to walk down the dusty cobwebbed halls, the wonder on your face as you walked through made the cold memories of the world he knew before he was a supe fade into the background. And this storage unit was all that was left of that life.
Wow, that's so interesting. Taking a trip literally through Memory Lane and walking through his family's mansion. I've never thought about that before, but I imagine it would be one of those things that Ben, for the longest time, couldn't bring himself to sell, but also couldn't visit. Like a mausoleum of his old life.
When Ben opens the trunk, he catches the smell of the floral perfume his mother used to wear and after all these years it makes him remember the tight hugs she'd give him the moment she sent him off to bed and the tight hugs she'd given him when he rushed down the stairs on Christmas morning.
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You're killin' me, friend!! 😭😭
Something that you would have ended up doing about an hour before you had to go to the airport, but you knew that would only annoy Ben. But you liked annoying him.
Lmaooo deeply relatable. I feel like it would be oh so funny to intentionally getting on his nerves (knowing he wouldn't hurt you). 😂
He might not have been big on sharing, but your boyfriend was good at listening. Not just pretending to listen, but actually being quiet and wanting to learn more about what you're saying. You'd thought it was odd when you became roommates and you realized just how much Ben listened and remembered what you told him, but now it was one of the reasons that made you love your boyfriend more.
Oh, it's because he actually cares. 💗
In all honesty, you didn't hate how old fashioned Ben was, if anything it was a relief, a reprieve from the way the modern boys treated women. It was nice to finally be with a man who actually gave a shit about you and cared what you wanted.
People want to think there aren't any good aspects to "traditional/old-fashioned" men, but for the men who are actually good men, traditional doesn't necessarily mean outdated or toxic, so thank you for including this tidbit.
Her gift to him was so very sweet!! Of course she made him something heartfelt, and he appreciated it because it was a genuine "first" for him, having someone give him a hand-made gift from the heart. 💚💚💚
And his gift to her was absolutely perfect. đŸ„č A keepsake from his mother? Him basically saying he wishes she could've met his girl? I'm dying of happiness from the sheer fluff. 😭💗
This was a beautiful addition to the Take a Chance story, and kind of feels like an epilogue in a way, even though I know you're working on that one too. I loved this, friend!!
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Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV, Soldier Boy POV and Reader POV
Summary:  All Soldier Boy wants for Christmas is to find the perfect gift for you and all you want is for your boyfriend to have the best Christmas he has in forty years. Reader is a supe with plant powers. (Takes place in my Take A Chance On Me Series- 4 months after they get together, but can be read as stand alone!)
Tropes: Established Relationship, First Christmas, Age Difference (Reader is in her 20s), Soft Ben/ Soldier Boy, Protective Ben/Soldier Boy
Word Count: 8.5K
Warnings: I'm going to label this 18+ because Soldier Boy (he's a warning and everyone knows it), Swearing, Mentions of Sex, Sexual Innuendo, Illusions to Sex, Fluff, Soft Soldier Boy, A little bit of self-deprecating thoughts, Soldier Boy is Mean to Hughie, Mention of drinking/drugs, Ben/Soldier Boy might be a little bit OOC.
Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!
Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.
Take A Chance On Me Masterlist
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Song Inspiration: Little Things By ABBA
A/N: I know I should be working on the epilogue of "Take a Chance on Me," but @zepskies wrote a lovely Christmas fic called 'Twas the Night for Dean Winchester, and it really just got me in a mood to write some Christmas Fluff! đŸ„°
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Soldier Boy POV
Ben frowned at the delicate necklace laid on the black velvet cloth in front of him, the 10 carat diamonds catching in the brilliant lights that lined the ceiling of the jewelry store. It was the eleventh piece of jewelry that he'd asked the woman behind the counter to remove from the display case, and it still wasn't right.
Ben had waited until the last possible moment to go Christmas shopping. It wasn't because he'd forgotten or because he'd been so busy he hadn't had time to shop or because he'd been called away on a mission, but rather Ben kept putting it off because he didn't want to think about it.
It was his first Christmas back in the U.S, and it was already proving to be one so different than the ones he'd known before.
Christmas for him in his youth when his mother was alive was filled with light and joy. Each room of his family's mansion strung with tinsel, adorned with holly and festive wreaths, and a Christmas tree so large that it put all others to shame and sent the smell of pine wafting thorough the large home. He remembered the lavish parties his mother threw with women in gorgeous gowns and men dressed in suits taking crystal glasses from silver trays, remembered the warmth in the kitchen as his mother baked and rolled fresh pastry, remembered the taste of the hot chocolate on the tip of his tongue that his mother made him before she sent him to bed on Christmas Eve, and remembered her tight embrace and the smell of her floral perfume on Christmas morning when he'd run down the stairs into the living room.
Ben's jaw tightened.
Christmas without her was different, the large mansion where he lived with his father was cold and dark. The hallways desolate and frozen in the winter months that lead into spring, the kitchen no longer heated by the warmth of the oven or infused with the smell of gingerbread, the parlor no longer tinkling with the sounds of glasses and the laughter of guests, the living room no longer housed a Christmas tree so tall that it made the Eiffel tower look like a trinket, and there were no longer Christmas parties where people danced into the wee hours of the morning and poured themselves into bed smelling of champagne and eggnog.
All that was left was the drunken stupor of his father, the harsh words that echoed down the long hallways, and the urge for Ben to find the nearest bottle and drown himself in it.
Ben spent most of his years as a supe trying to forget the years that followed his mother's death and also his Christmases as a supe washing away the memory of the ones that seemed to be infused with the magic of Christmas in his youth.
Ben spent them at Legend's Christmas party with his woman of the hour clinging to his arm, making painful small talk and waiting until the party turned into a hedonistic thrall of sweat and skin as so many others had. And the next morning when he woke up from the fog, he turned back to the little white line that promised to make him forget and the amber bottle that did little to ease the reality that started to sink in.
But this year was different, because he had you.
You who loved Christmas more than anyone he'd ever met, you who was slowly reminding him how much he used to love Christmas as a child, you who'd dragged him to go Christmas tree shopping before Thanksgiving, you who had encouraged him to help decorate the small apartment the two of you shared with so many Christmas lights it was blinding,  and you who had planned something Christmas themed every week for the past month whether it be baking Christmas cookies or watching Christmas movies while drinking hot chocolate on the couch. And in each moment, you'd found some way to include him in it.
Ben wasn't used to that.
He wasn't used to someone wanting him there with them and someone like you going out of your way to include him in everything you did.
If a person had tried to tell him in the past that he'd ended up with someone like you, someone who smiled easily, someone who always put other people first, someone who actually gave a shit about him, someone who was always so damn warm and welcoming, someone who included in him everything you did in a way that didn't make Ben feel like an old grump, and someone who tried their best to make sure that Ben remembered every day that you wanted him around, he would have laughed in that person's face.
And yet there you were.
Truth be told Ben knew that the old version of him probably wouldn't have let someone like you close to him, let alone fall in love with them.
Ben hadn't met anyone else like you in the numerous years he'd been alive and he really didn't want to fuck it up. He'd fucked up so many other things in his life and he hadn't cared, but if it involved you, he wouldn't dare.
Hence, the current dilemma of him standing in the crowded Tiffany store at 8 pm two days before Christmas with you waiting at home for him to exchange gifts. Ben wanted to pick the perfect gift for you, but nothing felt right.
He'd never given much thought to what to buy someone for Christmas. In the past usually an expensive piece of jewelry, a handbag, a dress, or a car would have made any of Ben's many escapades swoon, but not you. Ben had tried to give you jewelry before, expensive jewelry that would have made any of those other women drop to their knees, but you were different.
And as much as Ben loved that about you, it was only making this worse for him.
The one time that he'd tried to give you a gift outright, a beautiful diamond and emerald drop pendant with earrings to match, you hadn't been impressed. Sure, you'd thought that it was beautiful, but you'd told him that you liked gifts that "meant something."
Whatever the fuck that meant.
And he knew for a fact that the 10 carat diamond necklace on the velvet pillow in front of him would mean nothing to you.
"Fuck." Ben murmured under his breath, and the saleswoman stiffened.
"Still not quite right?" She asks, adjusting the sleeves of her navy blue blazer. "We have some bigger jewel-"
"It's not the fucking size." Ben snaps frustrated.
He was running late.  He knew that you were waiting at home for him to bring back dinner and to give him his present, the one that he was sure would be thoughtful and perfect for him because you were always so damn caring.
The other shoppers were pushing and shoving their way to the counters where other salespeople stood in identical navy blazers and white button down shirts, the tension and buzz of two days to Christmas electrifying the air, while Christmas music that Ben couldn't recognize played in the background.
His supe hearing made it worse. Sometimes it was a bit overwhelming and as much as Ben pretended that he didn't have PTSD, he did. Being surrounded by this many people was not helping. It was in moments like this when you were there, would hold entwine your fingertips with his and brush your thumb gently over the back of his hand to ground him as if you could sense his discomfort.
Ben hadn't ever had someone care enough to notice things like that. Another reason why he wanted to find you the perfect gift, because you put up with all his shit and didn't ask for anything in return.
"Ben?" He hears a familiar voice ask, hesitant, and he turns to see Annie standing a few feet inside the open doorway. S
he's wearing a black puffer jacket and her hair is hidden under a red stocking cap, while Hughie holds the door for her. Hughie's arms were laden down with bags while Annie's remained bare. The winter wind blew in through the space, flecking bits of snow onto the rugs that had been laid out to avoid the customers sliding through the sludge.
"Hey." Ben grunts, not quite smiling.
He wasn't good at talking to your best friend or her boyfriend. Personally he thought that Hughie was a fucking pussy and that he didn't have the balls to tell Annie no, but the one time Ben had told you that, you'd only rolled your eyes and told him that Hughie "loved Annie."
Ben loved you and he did have the balls to tell you no, but Ben thought that sometimes it was better to keep his mouth shut and do what you asked. Not to mention Ben hated saying no to you when it was something that could make you happy. Ben liked making you as happy as you made him. 
He flinched at the thought. The self-deprecating monologue was beginning to seep in, the one that told him you were turning him into a "pussy" and that he should cut and run. The same monologue that made him make a mistake and run back to Vought a few months ago when he should have run to you.
Ben shakes it off.
"What are you doing here? I thought you two were going to leave this morning for Illinois?" Annie asks in surprise used to Ben's grouchy demeanor.
Your grandmother turned Christmas into a two day extravaganza, complete with a Christmas Eve and a Christmas Day party. And although Ben and you were supposed to begin the 14 hour drive to Illinois this morning, your grandmother had insisted the two of you catch a flight first thing tomorrow.
"Decided to catch a flight tomorrow." Ben replies.
Ben was secretly happy, because flying meant that he wasn't going to have to drive 14 hours in the snow. The two of you had driven to Illinois once before, and Ben hadn't minded it. You’d been more upset with him for not letting you drive, but Ben liked driving. Driving meant that he was in control and in an emergency situation he wouldn't have to reach over the console and yank the wheel to save the two of you and driving meant that you could relax in the passenger seat and work on whatever it was you were crocheting.
"Like us!" Hughie flashes Ben a wide smile that Ben doesn't feel the need to return. “You should have told us. We could have all traveled together!”
Ben's frown deepens at the thought at being stuck in a metal tube for hours with Hughie and he knew that if you were here you would probably elbow him in the side and tell him to "be nice." If anyone had ever tried to do that to him in the past, he would have ripped their arm off, but not you.
"Last minute shopping?" Hughie asks trying again.
Ben dragged his eyes over the numerous bags hanging from Hughie's arms. "Yeah. You too?"
"Mhmm. We just finished." Annie replies. Her gaze drops to the diamond necklace on top of the display case that the saleswoman is fiddling with. "Is that for-"
"No. Of course not!" Ben says sharper than he means to, shoulders tensing. But him standing in this store when he knew that you were waiting at home for him to celebrate Christmas made him feel like Annie and Hughie had caught him red-handed. "She doesn't like jewelry." He adds referring to you as he takes a step back from the counter and the sales associate who looks confused.
“But sir-“ The woman begins to say, but Ben waves a hand to shut her up.
"Why do you think that?" Annie asks interrupting the woman.
"Because she yelled at me when I bought her that diamond and emerald necklace!" He shouts so loud that some of the other customers turn to stare at him. "This was a fucking mistake, I have to go-" Ben starts to stomp out the door and past Annie not sure where he's going, but she shifts to stand in his way. His eyes narrow in annoyance, thinking about all the ways that he could move her.
He only put up with Annie because she was your best friend and he knew that if he did anything to her then it would upset you, and Ben didn't like upsetting you.
Well, he did think that it was cute when you got angry with him. Your eyebrows scrunched together, your cheeks turned a cute shade of pink, and your eyes seemed to glow with the force of your anger. There were few people who had the courage to tell him off, but the more you did it, the more he started to like it.
But this was different, and now thinking about you only reminded him of his current dilemma.
"Ben, wait a minute." Annie says.
"What?" He snaps
He could practically feel the seconds ticking away until he had to go back to the apartment. It was the first time that he'd ever dreaded going home and seeing you and fuck he hated every single moment of it.
"She does like jewelry." Annie's mouth drops into a sympathetic smile.
Ben tried not to get more angry when he saw the pitying look in her eye. He didn't need her pity, didn't need anyone's pity! He was still Soldier Boy damnit!
"Then why the fuck did she-"
"She doesn't like this kind of jewelry." Annie clarifies. "She like vintage stuff, simple, refined. Hell, I have to practically drag her away from the display cases at Atomic Archives."
"Atomic Archives?" Ben asks hesitantly. He had no idea what Annie was talking about. You'd never mentioned that place before.
"Yeah, it's our favorite antique store. It’s about two blocks over from where the plant shop used to be.”
"Can you show me where it is?" Ben says it before he can stop himself, his heart surging with hope at the possibility of finding the perfect gift for you.
"I mean I-" Annie begins to say, but Hughie interrupts.
"Babe, didn’t you say that the owner was closed this week because she went out of town?" Hughie asks her, throwing a sympathetic look in Ben's direction that made him bristle.
"Oh, right." Annie sighs.
Ben felt the hope inside pop and deflate like a pricked balloon, but the longer he stood there in the crowded shop, with the ostentatious jewelry twinkling under the lights, the buzz of the chatter of other shoppers, and the ridiculous new-age Christmas music that grated on his ears, he began to have an idea.
"Come on." Ben might have said it as a suggestion, but it wasn’t open for debate. As much as he didn't want to admit it, he needed Annie and unfortunately that meant that Hughie was going to tag along.
"What?" Annie sputtered.
"Come the fuck on. I don’t have time for this." Ben snaps back and stomps out the doorway past Annie and Hughie into the snow.
"But what about-" Hughie begins to say and Ben whirls around to glare at him, eyes narrowing. "Okay you got it. Lead the way buddy." Hughie nods his head in agreement.
"I'm not your fucking buddy." Ben sighs under his breath.
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Soldier Boy POV
"This place is really murdery." Ben hears Hughie whisper to Annie from somewhere behind him. "Do you think Ben is going to try to kill us? Should I call Butc-"
"I'm not going to fucking kill you!" Ben snaps, pulling out his keys, the jingle of the metal echoing down the long hallway. "And I guess you really can't make a decision without that British fuck can you?”
The storage unit warehouse was desolate, but that was to be expected, it was after all two days to Christmas and most were more focused on buying things to put in their storage units than moving things out. The lights along the roof of the steel gray hallway flicker and throw long shadows over the navy blue doors of the units doing little to alleviate the creepy aura.
In hindsight Ben did agree that this particular storage space was "murdery," but it was the only one that he could get close to the apartment last minute. The same apartment that Ben has been trying to convince you to move out of.
It wasn't the safest neighborhood, and Ben hated the thought that you'd lived there as long as you had, walking home at night alone before he moved in. Now it wasn't a problem because Ben never let you walk by yourself. And as hard as you'd fought him not to live in a "big fancy apartment" all Ben wanted was to live somewhere where he could imagine staying permanently. Not in a small one bedroom apartment where he had to stoop in the shower, the bed barely fit in the bedroom, and seemed too small for one person let alone two.
He knew that he was wearing you down, but he still had a long way to go.
"Why are we here then?" Hughie asks.
"You're here because your girlfriend wouldn’t come without you.” Ben rolls his eyes as he fits the key into the thick padlock.
He was getting tired of listening to Hughie’s whining. He heard enough of that when he was stuck on missions with him, but he was tolerating him, for the moment at least. He had to, because if he didn't then he was never going to be able to find the perfect gift for you.
The interior of the storage unit isn't anything special. Ben didn't have much that he wanted to keep from his old life, as a supe or from his childhood. The things inside this storage unit were the only things that Ben had left that didn't cause him to be reminded of how his father chastised him or the drafty home that Ben returned to each time he got kicked out of another boarding school.
The mansion that had been in his family for decades had sat abandoned and locked up, hidden from the main roads so it was undisturbed after Ben's father died. Ben had gone to Philadelphia a few months ago to get things in order with the bank and prepare it for sale, but had been surprised when you told him you wanted to come.
He didn't think that you'd want to be involved in something so tedious, but it was almost as if you could sense how hard it was going to be for him, and you'd insisted.
Ben had no intention of setting foot inside, but you were curious and even though it made Ben's throat tight to walk down the dusty cobwebbed halls, the wonder on your face as you walked through made the cold memories of the world he knew before he was a supe fade into the background.
And this storage unit was all that was left of that life.
Ben located the old steamer trunk with ease. It was a faded gray now, but Ben remembered the day his father bought it for his mother. When the grayed sides were a soft supple black, the metal lock and edging were a polished gold, and the rose patterned fabric that lined the inside was soft and covered in bright pink flowers.
When Ben opens the trunk, he catches the smell of the floral perfume his mother used to wear and after all these years it makes him remember the tight hugs she'd give him the moment she sent him off to bed and the tight hugs she'd given him when he rushed down the stairs on Christmas morning.
He didn't like thinking about her or talking about her, but sometimes he would think of her when he was with you. Whenever you did something caring without being asked or whenever you took the time to check in to see how he was doing. Not that you were motherly, just that Ben hadn't had anyone in a long time care about little things like that.
The only other "relationship" he'd tried to have was with Crimson Countess and she didn't do any of the things for him that you did. There wasn't any comparison between the two of you as far as Ben was concerned.
He shakes off the memory the way he always does and moves some of his mother's clothes for the cherry wood carved box that he knows is in the bottom.
He opens it slowly, extracting a small velvet box from within, one of many inside that Ben probably should have taken to the bank ages ago for safe keeping. Ben's father had a tendency to buy things for his mother whenever he "messed up" and the small velvet boxes inside were proof of that.
Ben turns back to where Annie and Hughie are watching with curiosity at the door of the storage unit. "Here."
"Here?" Annie says hesitantly looking at the velvet box in Ben's hand.
"You brought us out here for a box?" Hughie huffs.
Ben narrows his eyes. "No. And if you tell anyone about this I'll turn you inside out, ass-wipe."
"Why do you always have to be so-" Hughie begins to say, but Annie nudges him in the side.
Ben wondered briefly if Annie and Hughie also tried to tolerate him the same way that he tolerated them for you.  
"Wow." Annie says, her voice hushed and reverent when she opens the box with strands of her blonde hair falling out around the hat.
"You think she'll like it?" Ben clears his throat, trying not to wince at the question.
He hated that he was relying on Annie for this or relying on anyone in general. Ben would have rather taken a long walk off a short pier than anyone for help, but he was just so desperate to make sure that the first Christmas the two of you spent together was perfect.
You deserved that and Ben wanted to give it to you.
"She will."
"Good." Ben takes the box back, but decides to bring the wooden box with him back to the apartment just in case. His eyes narrow as he looks over at Hughie. "If you tell anyone about this, I'll shove your head up Butcher's ass. Then again, you two would probably enjoy something like that."
"You're welcome." Annie raises an eyebrow.
"Whatever." Ben mutters.
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Reader POV
Ben was late and you were starting to worry.
Not that Ben was always punctual. The man was about as punctual as the White Rabbit, but rather Ben was sure to let you know when he was running late. Not to mention Ben was rarely late to things that he knew were important to you.
And tonight was special or at least you wanted it to be.
You look at your phone again to check the time, noting that it was nearing nine and Ben had told you he was going to be back at eight. You were trying not to think too much about it, busying yourself with other little things, like packing for your trip to your grandmother's home in Illinois. Something that you would have ended up doing about an hour before you had to go to the airport, but you knew that would only annoy Ben.
But you liked annoying him.
Ben's nostrils would flare, his jaw would flex, and the green of his eyes would darken in a way that sent a pleasurable shiver down his spine, but tonight you were too anxiety ridden at how late he was to care about making him annoyed.
Ben and you were supposed to leave this morning to drive the 14 hours to your hometown in Illinois, but you'd called your grandmother a few days ago and asked her if Ben and you could fly in instead.
You wanted the two of you have a Christmas alone before you dragged him back home and made him sit through the two holiday parties your grandmother threw. So you'd planned a quiet Christmas at home where the two of you could drink eggnog, watch some holiday movies, and exchange gifts before Ben was subjected to every single person you'd known since you were six.
But Ben didn’t seem to mind any of that.
Regardless, you were going all out this Christmas. It was Ben's first since he'd come back to the States and you wanted it to be perfect and it was the first Christmas the two of you were spending together as a couple.
The anxious energy that thrummed through your veins reached out into the numerous plants in your apartment, that shifted and stirred as your powers coaxed them forward. The vines that crept along the walls shook with an unnatural breeze, the Christmas tree grew an inch taller, the mistletoe hanging above the front door grew another few shimmering berries, the blackberry and raspberry vines that hung over your refrigerator fidgeted and wove together into a curtain while the tomato plant in the garden box above your sink dropped bright red fruit onto the counter, and the orange/lemon tree that sat behind your kitchen table blocking the view of the alley beyond shook it's branches for a moment. You could feel everything alive in your apartment leaning towards you as if waiting for your silent command.
Rex, the creature you'd created from broken vines and trampled leaves four months ago, flicks his eyes over to you sensing the same disturbance the rest of the plants inside could.
You bite the inside of your cheek fighting your urge to check your phone even though you know that less than a minute has passed since you'd last checked. Instead you fiddle with the ribbon on the lumpy wrapped gift that is perched on your lap.
Shopping for Ben had been difficult to say the least.
You weren't sure what to get your 104 boyfriend who'd lived as a hedonistic playboy for most of his life and you didn't like giving gift cards (you didn't think Ben would understand the concept) or giving people meaningless trinkets that they used once and then threw away (the Grinch was right about some things). You liked giving gifts that you put time and effort into that you were sure the recipient was going to love.
And you were sure that the package on your lap contained the perfect gift and you were excited to see the look on Ben's face when he unwrapped it.
Your cat Bean purrs where he sits beside you on the couch and Rex your, for lack of a better word, Dragon was watching the multicolored lights on the Christmas tree in the corner blink on and off.
It was bigger for your apartment than it should be, but Ben had insisted on getting it and you couldn't complain. Not when he genuinely seemed to be happy to stand there in the snow picking out a tree with you.
And after when no Uber driver agreed to pick the two of you up because of the tree, Ben had carried it on his shoulder fifteen blocks while you begged him to let you help. When you'd tried to take some of the tree, Ben had shifted it to his other shoulder and taken your hand instead, which wasn't what you meant when you reached out towards him, but you didn't let go, not when it was cold and Ben's hand was warm.
The one jammed into the corner of your small living room didn't have a leaf out of place or any signs of decay. You'd fixed that with a flick of a finger.
You'd gone all out with decorations.
Every plant in your apartment had lights of their own and ornaments that swung just out of reach from your pets. Christmas lights were strung down the hallway and there was a wreath on your bedroom door. Strands of mistletoe hung over every doorway in your apartment and there was one taped to the wall above your bed. That one was Ben's doing, but you couldn't complain, not when it felt so damn good to kiss him.
Ben hadn't spoken about the Christmases he spent in the past, but he'd listened to you talk about your Christmases growing up when the two of you decorated the tree with ornaments you'd collected over the years.
He might not have been big on sharing, but your boyfriend was good at listening. Not just pretending to listen, but actually being quiet and wanting to learn more about what you're saying. You'd thought it was odd when you became roommates and you realized just how much Ben listened and remembered what you told him, but now it was one of the reasons that made you love your boyfriend more.
You sighed, a happy smile on your face. You didn't think that you could feel this way about anyone, let alone someone you hated for so long, but you did. Ben was changing the belief you had about what relationships should look like, and you were sure that you were doing the same for him.
You hear the jingle of keys and the fumble of the doorknob as Ben slowly opens the front door and you leap from the couch.
"You're home!" You exclaim as your body hits his full speed, but he doesn't move. It was difficult for you to produce enough force to move him, difficult for anyone really.
Ben chuckles "Miss me Petals?"
He moves the plastic bag of Chinese food to his left hand so he can hug you back, his right hand fitting comfortably over the small of your back to hold you tighter against him.
You could remember the first time you hugged him, when all he did was stand there with his hands at his sides awkwardly while you held on to him as tight as you could. This was better. Ben's embrace is warm and strong, unyielding, but full of the love that he’d had such a hard time admitting.
"Yes." You squeeze him hard, smiling into his jacket that's flecked with melting snow, cold against your skin, but the warmth of his body soaks through the chill and into you. You sigh, nuzzling further into him. "I was worried-"
"Why?" Ben's voice rumbles through his chest, against your cheek.
"Because you weren't home yet." You pull back to stare up at him. His brilliant green eyes catch in the multicolored strands of Christmas lights, strung through your apartment. There's snow caught in his dark hair, turning to water and dripping down into his face in the warmth of the apartment.
Ben frowns. "I'm sorry."
"It's okay. You're here now." You smile arching up to kiss him. Ben groans into your mouth, his grip on you tightening as he deepens the kiss, pressing the hand on the small of your back just a little more to secure you against his chest.
You sigh softly, content in living in this moment with him for another few precious seconds. The heat of his body transferring into you the longer you stand pressed against him, soaking through your sweatpants and chunky sweater in the best way.
You'd never felt this way about anyone in the past. There hadn't been another boyfriend who'd treated you the way Ben did, no other boyfriend who'd cared about the little things, and no other boyfriend who you were so in love with. Even your first love so long ago faded into the background, the one you thought you'd never get over, and all that was left was Ben.
You're too excited about giving Ben his gift to eat. You sit cross-legged on the plush gray couch so close to him that your knees are touching the outside of his thigh as Ben places the boxes of food onto your coffee table. The anxious energy tingling in the pit of your stomach and buzzing in your chest so much that it's difficult to sit still.
And before Ben can give you your chopsticks, you thrust the lumpy wrapped package onto his lap with a wide smile.
"You first!" You say.
Ben shakes his head. "It should be ladies first."
“I’m not a lady Ben. We both know that-“
“Sorry sweetheart that’s the way it goes.”
“Don't be so old fashioned Gramps. It's 2024.” You roll your eyes at him, laughing at the cute frown that pulls at his lips when you use the nickname. Ben never liked it, but when you'd first met, Ben hadn't told you his real name, and you'd assigned him the nickname and it had stuck when you realized how much it annoyed him.
That was when he did everything in his power to annoy you as well, so it seemed like a good fit.
In all honesty, you didn't hate how old fashioned Ben was, if anything it was a relief, a reprieve from the way the modern boys treated women. It was nice to finally be with a man who actually gave a shit about you and cared what you wanted.
"And I really want you to open yours first." You plead as you lean towards him. "Oh, and this goes with it."
You reach down behind the couch to grab the small golden barrel cactus, avoiding the sharp yellow spines, and place it on the minimal space left on the coffee table. You'd crocheted a dark green sleeve to go around the terra cotta pot.
"You got me a cactus?" Ben snorts.
"I mean, I have so many plants in here and I thought that you'd want one that was yours. Plus, you'll never have to water it." You gesture with one hand to the numerous plants around the room, the ones bathed in the multicolored lights from the Christmas Tree, the ones with bright green leaves that unfurled towards the light, the others with hanging vines that trailed to the ground so thick that you couldn't remember the color of the wall, the apple tree with ripe red fruit, and the numerous herbs in the garden box that hung over your kitchen sink. "And I gave it a sweater."
"Why did you give it a sweater?"
"It’s used to a warm climate and because I had some yarn left over."
"From?"
"You're just going to have to open your gift and find out." You shrug, but can barely contain your excitement.
Ben shakes his head at you, but a smile twitches on the corner of his lips. You knew that your boyfriend loved you because you were different than anyone he'd ever met, and you reveled in that. You liked that even though Ben was older than you,  that no matter how many other experiences he'd had in his life,  you were a first for him just as Ben was a first for you.
He rips through the paper carefully, trying hard not to ruin what was inside, the sound of crinkling and tearing blocking out the Christmas playlist for a moment that you'd put on before Ben had come home, but you can hear the ABBA song clear as day.
For a moment he stares down at the gift not quite comprehending what the lumpy mass in his lap is, but then he picks it up.
It had taken a month for you to pick out the perfect dark green yarn that was soft but not too soft, green but not too green, and another two months for you to finish it when Ben wasn't home, but you were proud of the sweater that you'd made your boyfriend.
He stares at it for another few beats, holding it up to the light, and it makes you worry that maybe you should have bought him something at the mall instead.
"You made me a sweater?" He asks, there's something on the edge of his voice that you can't place, some traces of emotion that you're not able to identify.
"Yeah. I wanted to make you something." You clear your throat, worried. "I mean- you don't have any and I know that you keep saying you run a little warm, but I figured we're going to Illinois for Christmas and it might be cold."
Ben doesn't say anything and you start to feel the self-doubt come roaring in.
Why did I make him a sweater? I should have bought him some cologne or something.
"And you complained when Butcher sent you on that mission to Alaska last month and I just thought that-“ You press your lips into a tight line, shoulders drooping. “If you don't like it I can keep it for me-" You fumble, but before you can finish, Ben yanks you into his lap.
His hands cup your cheeks as he kisses you so fiercely that it wipes any doubts from your mind. You make a surprised sound in the back of your throat, but sink into the kiss.  “Don’t you fucking dare.” Ben mutters against your lips.
Your blush burns against your face. “You like it?”
He nods. “ No one’s ever made me anything before.” His voice comes out a little bit gruff, as if he’s embarrassed to admit it, but it makes you smile.
“I figured and I wanted to change that.” Your fingertips dance over his forehead, brushing away the hair that’s fallen forward before your hand drops to cup his cheek, feeling the scratch of his beard against the palm of your hand. “But you’re sure you like it?”
Ben kisses you again, his large hands settling on your hips with an encouraging squeeze. “I do.”
“Good. Merry Christmas.” You wrap your arms around the back of his neck to hug him for a minute, sinking into his embrace with a happy smile.
"Merry Christmas doll." Ben murmurs into your hair, affection lacing his words.
Again, you send a mental thank you to your grandmother for understanding that Ben and you needed a day to be together and celebrate the way you wanted to before coming to stay. Not that you didn't like the Christmas Eve party or the Christmas day party, but you wanted to give Ben this. You noticed that Ben still had a hard time being in places with a lot of people when the PTSD came roaring back, and you wanted to show him what Christmas meant to you and hopefully show what Christmas would look like between the two of you as long as you were together.
“Sweetheart you gotta open yours now.” Ben’s voice rumbles, the warmth of his breath on your ear. It makes a pleasurable shiver thrill skate down your spine when you think of all the other times the two of you have been this close.
“It’s okay I can wait.” You hum into his throat, content, but Ben won't give in.
He pushes you back gently from his chest shaking his head. “Too bad. It's your turn."
"Fine." You start to move back to the space beside him, but Ben's hands catch on your hips to stop you.
"I didn't say I wanted you to move did I?" His smile turns more smirk.
"I-"
"How many times do I have to tell you that I like having you on top of me?" Ben purrs, kissing under your jaw, his beard scratching in a way that makes your throat tight.
"Keep doing that and the only thing I'm going to unwrap is you." You sigh in a half-moan, fingers curling into the hair at the base of his neck.
"After." Ben leans back to reach into his coat pocket and pulls out a small black velvet box that fits in the palm of your hand.
You hesitate to open it.
It wasn't that you didn't want jewelry for Christmas, it was that Ben and you had done this song and dance before after he tried to make you wear a diamond and emerald necklace with jewels bigger than your index, middle, and third finger put together. The whole time you wore it the only thing you could think about is how many groceries you could have bought with the necklace, how much you were afraid that it was going to break, and how much you feared that you were going to lose it or someone was going to try and steal it.
Maybe that was ridiculous, but extravagant gifts never appealed to you. You liked gifts that meant something, gifts that were heartfelt and thoughtful, gifts like the bookshelf Ben had gotten you months ago before you were dating because he noticed you needed one. Not to mention you loved just spending time with Ben. If he hadn't gotten you anything you would have been content with just sitting with him on the couch and watching a Christmas movie.
But you smile, because you don't want to hurt his feelings and because it's his first Christmas in forty years and you wanted it to be special.
It's Christmas and I will be thankful and happy with whatever he got me, because Ben was thinking of me when he bought it.
You think to yourself as you open the box.
The first thing you notice is that the box isn't as new as you thought, the inside of the lid is printed in ancient script that's a little faded, worn against the aged white silk that lines it. Your eyes drift to the piece of jewelry nestled on the pillow. It's a silver locket, hexagon shaped, and about the size of your thumb. The face is printed with weaving ivy leaves and roses that reach to a simple plain border.
Simple, stately, and completely you.
Ben is uncharacteristically quiet, but he breaks the silence first. "Do you-" He clears his throat, "Do you like it?"
He asks it hesitantly, as if he's afraid to hear your answer. It was unusual for Ben to look so nervous.
You can only nod, any words you had stuck in the back of your throat. Your fingernail finds the seam between the two pieces of metal and you gently unlatch the locket to see the picture inside. There's a piece of glass protecting a yellowed photo of a little boy who looks no more than five standing in a small black suit. You didn't think that they made suits for kids that small. He's smiling and one of his teeth are missing, but he looks oddly familiar.
"Who is this?" You ask. The more you look at the photo the more you think that you've seen him before.
"It's me." He says it quiet, almost a whisper.
"You? But-"
"It was my mother's." He clarifies and you inhale sharply in surprise.
"Really?"
He nods once, looking uncomfortable. By now you knew that moments like this usually made your boyfriend uncomfortable no matter how many times that you'd told him that he didn't have to be uncomfortable about being vulnerable. He was getting a little better, slowly, very slowly.
"Oh Ben I don't know if I should-" You shake your head, afraid to touch something so old.
Ben didn't often speak about his mother, but when he did, it was always reverent and respectful. You could see in his eyes how much he had loved her and how much he had cared about her. His father, Ben also didn't like talking about, but Ben never spoke of his father with the kindness that he'd spoke about his mother.
And you didn't want to take something like this away from him, something that meant so much to him, because of how much he loved his mother.
"No. I-" He clears his throat and Ben's hand tightens on your waist. "I want you to have it."
"But-" You stutter.
"What else am I going to do with it Petals? Can't exactly wear it myself." Ben chuckles, but the humor doesn't quite reach his eyes.
“Yeah, but it’s your mom’s and I-“ You trail off still looking at the photo of Ben as a little boy. He had the same mischievous twinkle in his eyes that you loved, the same unruly dark hair, but there was something different about him. He looked happier. It was the same look that Ben had when it was just the two of you together, the happiness that you wanted Ben to feel the rest of his life when he understood what it was like to be loved and cherished.
And it made you understand that the last time Ben must have felt loved and cherished was when his mother was still alive. It broke your heart to know that Ben had lived all these years without her and missed that in his life.
The locket was beautiful and the fact that Ben remembered what you said about liking gifts that “meant something” made your heart flutter.
Because this meant something. Ben taking the time to go through his mother’s jewelry and pick something out just for you that was special to him that he wanted to share with you, meant more than the emerald and diamond necklace he had tried to give you months ago.
There were tears burning behind your eyes the more you look at the photo of the little boy.
Ben is watching you. “Well-“ He shrugs. “I'm an only child. Which means I don't have any siblings who have wives to fight over this stuff so, I figured that if anyone was going to get it, it should be you. If you don't take it, it'll sit in that fucking storage unit. Seems like a shame."
You don't answer.
"And-" He hesitates, "I think my mom would have wanted you to have it. Hell, she might have given it to you, if I'd brought you home to meet her."
Your cheeks flush.
Ben studies you for another minute, before you watch his smile twitch into a frown. "Fuck, I knew I shouldn't have gotten you jewelry.  Annie said that you liked jewelry, but I told her you didn't and now the bitch is probably having a good laugh with that pussy of a boyfriend! Forget about it sweetheart, I'll go get you something else right now-" Ben tries to take the box from you, but you swat his hand away.
“Don't you fucking dare!” You shout, using the same words that he said to you when you tried to take his sweater away.
"But you don't like it-"
"I do!  And knowing how much this means to you, makes it better."
"Really?"
You nod, a wide smile wiping away any uncertainty in his gaze. "Will you help me put it on?"
"Sure." Ben says gruffly. His voice has lowered a little, and you know that it's a mixture of pride and love mingling in the tone. It made something break open deep inside and flood your ribcage with love.
You turn your neck to the side, pulling your hair away from the skin as Ben hooks the chain together at the nape of your neck.  The cool metal of the necklace against your skin and the weight are unfamiliar, but you already knew that you wouldn’t be taking it off anytime soon. "It's perfect!" You pull Ben in for a kiss, threading your fingers into his dark hair.
Ben smiles into your mouth, holding you tight against him as if he never wants to let you go and you don't want him to.
It was odd to think that you'd only been together for four months, but you couldn't imagine your life without him. It seemed ridiculous for you to think that Ben was it after such a short time, but he was. You'd never rushed into anything in your entire life, but then Ben was there shattering every expectation that you had, enough to make you throw your inhibitions to the wind and jump feet first into the unknown if it meant he was with you.
The kiss is softer than the one the two of you shared at your front door, filled with more emotion than Ben usually let the world see, but he was opening up bit by bit, learning that you wouldn't judge him for that and it made you feel sky high.
This was the relationship you'd always wanted, and you never thought that you'd have it with Ben, but now that you were here you wouldn't change a thing, because it wouldn’t have put you in his arms.
"You can change the picture." Ben murmurs into your lips.
"No way. I don't have any kid photos of you. And I'm pretty sure you'll see all of mine this week.”
“I bet you were cute.” Ben smiles, raising one of the hands from your hip to push your hair from your face. “Hard to imagine you being any other way sweetheart.” 
"Debatable." You sigh, nipping at his bottom lip in a way that makes Ben pull you back to him.
And when the kiss turns hungry, with you gripping his hair so tight you'd be sure that it would hurt anyone else, and with his fingers pushing up the bottom of your t-shirt to feel the warmth of your skin against his hands and find the dips and curves of your body that make you moan into his mouth, you can't help but think that this is the best Christmas you'd ever had.
"I do think it's later sweetheart." Ben's eyes shine with mischief, mouth pulling into the familiar smirk that makes your knees weak.
"Good. Because I have one other gift for you." You moan as Ben's mouth trails down to your jaw, his beard prickling against the sensitive skin, in a way that drives you mad.
"It's not another plant is it?" He bites just under your jaw and you tighten your hands in his hair, gasping softly.  "Fuck, I love those sounds you make baby." Ben murmurs.
"No." You've lost all ability to form sentences, not when he's so perfectly warm and the trail of his hands working up your abdomen consumes you.
"Give it to me later." Ben's eyes flash a startling green. "I want to unwrap my favorite gift right now."
"Keep going the way you are, and you're gonna find it."
Ben hesitates, before he raises his hand to feel the end of the brand new lingerie that you'd bought special for tonight, his eyes darkening with the realization. "Well then, Merry Christmas to me."
Ben's mouth falls against yours, but before he goes further, he pulls back just for a moment, his hand coming up to gently cup your cheek. Your eyes widen in surprise.
"Ben?" You question. 
"Merry Christmas Petals." He whispers, dragging his thumb over your cheek, and nudges his nose against yours in a gesture that warms your heart. He didn’t do things like that often, but whenever he did it always stood out to you, because it added on another layer to the man you loved with all your heart.
"Merry Christmas Ben."
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A/N: I thought that they deserved a little Christmas fluff. I'm hoping that I have time to drop a follow up to this before Christmas, because I kinda want to write what happens when they go back to Illinois, but we'll see what happens! ❀
As always thank you so much for reading! Reblogs, Likes, and Comments are not required, but are always appreciated! I love hearing what y'all think đŸ„°
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zelda-the-sacred-realm · 7 hours ago
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I have been LOVING all the stuff you’ve been putting out!! You’re so talented!!! I hope you had a great Christmas Day! :)
I have a question about your comic given the most recent update - are Hylia and Sun the same person like in canon? Or is Sun in the spirit realm area where the rest of Sky’s family is, and they can never see each other again?
Aww thank you, you're so kind! I'm always happy to know that you like my works and story đŸ„č💕
I had a happy Christmas, thank you very much! I hope you spent these holidays with joy and together with the people you love! 💖
So I'm not sure but I hope I understood correctly, Sun would be SS Zelda right?
Sorry I searched a bit and I think that's her nickname, if i'm wrong tell me please 🙈
So, in my comic, Zelda is the reincarnation of only a part of Hylia, but like every reincarnation Zelda has a soul and a body all her own
I've always thought that every Link is always a different person, but that only a part of their soul is reincarnated, the same goes for every Zelda
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So in my story Hylia still has a body but it only resides in the spirit realm, and the different Zelda were a part of her souls that could save Hyrule in the world of the living
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So Hylia and Sun are not the same person, the spirit of Sun and her children with Sky reside in the spiritual realm, and Sky after the punishment was no longer able to see them
Sky has lived in the spiritual realm with his family for a long time, but that event is now what is preventing Time and Sky from being able to return in the spiritual realm
Thanks for your ask! 💖
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luveline · 9 hours ago
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I know it’s not quite the new year or thanksgiving or anything but I am so thankful for you guys and for the blog but also for my life, which you guys have made so special, and all the support that’s ever been given to me cos I don’t think I’d be here without the friendships here and all of you guys, it’s amazing!! writing fics is so fun, and it’s awesome to get to be read, thanks so much for everything!!đŸ„čđŸ©”đŸ©”đŸ©”đŸ©”
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joifull1st · 2 days ago
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🎄🎁 Inspiration finally struck & I’m back to complete this holiday romcomâŁïž Write a review & tell me whether you think I’m on track. And share with a friend & follow for the conclusion coming soon!
@arlenesheenringleader1010 Thank you so much for the active cover đŸ„č
Merry Christmas! Happy Kwanzaa! Happy Hanukkah! Happy New Year Everyone✹
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elixirfromthestars · 5 hours ago
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My beloved!! đŸ„čđŸ©·đŸ©· Oh, I know you hold a special place in your heart for my 40s!Bucky, and that means so much to me!! đŸ„ș💖 There’s something about this era of Bucky that always makes me swoon when I think about it, so writing even more of him was something I needed to do 💗💗
I wanted this Bucky to just be a soft whipped man for the love of his life đŸ€­đŸ’— While writing this, all I kept thinking was what else could I add to it to make the reader all giddy and giggly đŸ«¶đŸŒđŸ’• With every new thing I added, I couldn’t stop making myself smile đŸ„°â€ïž
I was eagerly awaiting for you to read this one, and I’m so happy you did and that you loved it đŸ„čđŸ©·đŸ©· Thank you for always being so supportive of my fics, my beloved!!! đŸ«¶đŸŒđŸ’•đŸ’•
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Dancing Embers
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Pairing: 1940s!Bucky Barnes x Nurse!Reader
Summary: A cozy cabin, the love of your life, and the warmth of a fire. What more could you ask for on a cold winter night?
Word Count: 1.3k
Warning(s): none. pure fluff. slight insinuation at the end. female reader.
Prompt/Event: @the-slumberparty december daze -> a crackling fire sets the mood
a/n: This piece is written as a standalone. However, I will link below the pairing this fic is based on in case you want to read more of them. For context, this timeline is one where Bucky made it back from the war safe and sound and is enjoying his life now that the war is over. Thank you for reading! ₊˚âŠč♡ Likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated!! ♡♡♡
how their love story began ♡ || fluffy winter drabbles masterlist ❆
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The hum of the radio travels through the air and finds its way into the kitchen where you’re placing tonight’s dinner in the oven. A puff of hot air caresses your face as you close the oven door, the casserole dish cacooned inside by a blazing heat. You pick up the small timer from the counter and twist the dial, setting it for thirty minutes. 
Now, you have to find something to do to pass the time

You look around the unfamiliar kitchen, its rustic woodsy furnishing a cozy contrast to the one in your apartment in the city. A smile makes its way to your face as you recall how Bucky surprised you with this weekend getaway. It was after you came home from a shift at the children’s clinic—exhaustion heavy in your bones. An exhaustion he eased with a homecooked meal and a plethora of loving kisses. All leading up to the surprise of a weekend trip just for the two of you, presented to you with a bouquet of your favorite flowers and a handwritten note.
You started packing right away after that. 
While still ruminating on the joy of the memory, you begin to tidy up the mess in the kitchen—the one left from your dinner preparations. There wasn’t much to clean up—bits of leftover ingredients here and a few prep dishes there—but at least it gives you something to do while the timer counts down in the background. 
Out of the blue, a frosty air embraces you from behind. You let out a small squeal as the arms that usually radiate warmth are bitterly cold against your skin. A sharp intake of breath escaping you at the contact.
“Bucky, you’re freezing!” you say with concern and caught off guard by the piercing chill of his hands. How long had he been out in the cold? 
“Not anymore,” he mutters a response as he nuzzles into the crook of your neck, his icy lips pressing kisses into your skin. A shiver goes down your spine as the frost on his lips melts away into a heat that you’re used to. 
You twist in his arms to face him, pulling him even closer by his wool jacket to kiss the tip of his reddened nose, hoping to bring warmth back to it. Bucky grins at you with a gentle adoration, even more so when you brush off the remnants of winter from his hair and shoulders. His eyes taking in your every feature like he wants to commit this moment to memory. 
When it comes to you, he always does. There’s never been a moment with you he doesn’t hold dear in his heart. His time at war taught him to treasure every second he gets with those he loves most. And of course, as the love of his life, that includes you. 
“I’m going to need more than that to warm up, doll,” he claims playfully, before connecting his lips to yours, pulling you flush against him by your waist. Your arms eagerly wrap around his shoulders, melting into him faster than the snow on his body does. The kiss is sweet, yet profound as if the hour spent apart had been entirely too long for the both of you. 
When the kiss has restricted enough air from your lungs, you both pull away only slightly and out of breath, smiling from ear to ear. You collect yourself enough to say, “Dinner should be ready soon.” Bucky, however, has his attention elsewhere as he plants a soft kiss to your forehead, your nose, and then your lips once more. 
“Sounds. Good. Doll,” he mumbles the words between kisses that leave you in a fit of giggles. A sound that almost drowns out the grumbling of his stomach. 
“Someone’s hungry.”
“Mm, chopping lumber will do that to you.”
“Chopping lumber?”
“For the fireplace. I should probably go and get it started.”
Bucky lets out an exaggerated sigh, not entirely keen on going back out into the cold night. He presses a tender kiss to the top of your head before reluctantly detaching his arms from your waist as he heads back outside. He spends the next few minutes hauling in pieces of wood into the living room where he tends to the fireplace. Meanwhile, you get the dining table ready for your dinner for two. 
As you are on the brink of finishing setting up, you notice the radio gets louder—a slow song replacing the previous hum. It’s not long before Bucky comes back into the kitchen, however, this time he’s swaying slowly to the rhythm of the music. There’s a glimmer in his eyes as his hands outstretch to beckon you to him. 
“Dance with me,” he says, taking a hold of your hands and placing them on his shoulders. You laugh softly, looking at him with fond mirth. “Maybe later, sweetheart. Dinner’s almost ready,” you mention, glancing at the mechanical timer that would go off in a few minutes.
Bucky shakes his head, watching as your hands slide down from his shoulders, but before they can go anywhere, he swiftly intertwines them with his own. He uses this small leverage to begin coaxing you out of the kitchen and into the living room with gentle tugs. “Dinner can wait, doll. I want to dance with my best girl first,” he replies, his expression full of a pleading affection. 
You can never say no when he looks at you like that. 
You throw the image of the timer to the back of your head and follow Bucky into the center of the living room. To your right, the fireplace crackles beautifully with bright embers, cascading the room in an amber glow. To your left, the coffee table, handcrafted in oak, is pushed up against the sofa, giving you enough space by the fireplace to dance. 
Bucky’s hands find purchase at your waist as he anchors you closer. Your hands settle against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your fingertips. Soon your hips and his gradually sway in sync, letting the melody of the song guide you. 
You hold each other close for what seems like a lifetime, the heat of the fire amplifying the warmth that radiates between you. It’s flames flickering alongside you as if slow dancing themselves. The serenity of the moment forever engraving itself into your heart. 
“I love you, Y/n. I can’t wait for the rest of our lives to start,” Bucky’s voice is full of devotion, bringing your left hand up to his lips to kiss the spot right where your engagement ring is. You look at him as if he hung the moon for you, “I love you too, Bucky. Forever can’t come soon enough.” Your hands snake up to wrap behind his neck, pulling him in for a deep kiss, the kind that consumes as quickly as a spark catches fire. However, before the intensity can reach a boiling point, a loud ringing suddenly breaks it. The timer in the kitchen signaling whatever desires were igniting would have to be put on pause until after dinner. 
“Dinners ready,” neither of you are ready to break apart when you whisper this. A beat passes and Bucky lifts your chin gently with his finger, so your gaze locks with his adoring one.
“One more kiss.”
“The casserole is going to burn.” 
“Just one more?”
There he goes again with that pleading expression you can’t resist. 
“You know it won’t be just one more, James Buchanan Barnes,” you point out and he lets out a hearty chuckle. 
“You know me so well Mrs.Barnes-to-be.” 
He kisses you again anyway—short and sweet—leaving you with a promise for more to hold onto. Your laughter mixes with his as you lead him back to the kitchen. He hugs you from behind one last time as he whispers an enticing promise into your ear. 
“After dinner, I’m having you for dessert.” 
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604to647 · 17 hours ago
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Holidays in the 604
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Hope everyone has been having a good holidays so far, however that looks for you or best suits your sensibilities đŸ„čđŸ„°đŸ«‚đŸŽ„đŸŽ„
I started to write write some HCs for what the holidays might look like for the couples in a few of my series (Safest with You, The Rockford Portfolio, etc.) but for reasons below the cut, haven't had much energy or motivation to write (no need to read, it's a bit of a downer and kind of rambly!) - I'm hoping that I can find a little bit of both in the next few days and maybe get some thoughts down to still post.
For those same reasons, I haven't been on here much, to my detriment if I'm being honest - this place is a source of escapism for me and not being able to come on here for more than a few minutes a day has felt a bit offputting. I feel like I've missed a lot of amazing holiday stories that would have likely boosted my spirits a bit - I'll try to go back and find them but if you have or read any that you wish to recommend/share, please do let me know!
Similarly, thank you to everyone for your tags/mentions/asks - I want to get to them and maybe still participate in a few tag games if it's not too late when I muster up some energy. Thank you for thinking of me!! I truly wish that you all continue to have a lovely holiday season and look forward to ringing in the new year! You're all such a welcomed presence in my life and I'm grateful to each and every one of you for being here! Hope to see you soon đŸ„č KISS KISS 😘😘
Ok, now as to why Emily has a bit of the holiday blues this year:
I didn't grow up with a lot of hard set Christmas traditions, celebrations around the end of the year didn't go much beyond the commercial and the holiday season was mainly appreciated for being time off (from school, work), a time to rest and relax. There was cheer and joy, but as the kids say these days, it wasn't that deep. I've since married into a family that puts A LOT of pressure on Christmas - with an emphasis on physical togetherness and adhering to traditions/customs, that (to me anyways) can feel at times more performative than enjoyable; I totally understand the comfort in doing things the way they've always been done, but a lot of times it feels like people are just checking things off a list rather than genuinely enjoying (for example) baking the Christmas cookies, you know what I mean? Couple that with my priorities for my kiddos' Christmas, the way we spend Christmas now can feel a lot like a season of obligation. Depending on what the particular plan is for that year, it can also be incredibly hard, draining, and not all that jolly for me.
This was one of those years.
I hosted the big Christmas dinner at my house and also had those from out of town staying with us for a week. I'm a Virgo who thinks of her home as her sanctuary, am a bit fastidious about her things, and sees value in being forthright. It's a lot for me to have people taking over my house, making messes, and pushing/crossing boundaries that I've tried to set due to previous visits, all while maintaining a certain level of holiday cheer and slapping on a facade of "it's fine" when I definitely don't feel that way. I'll admit I wasn't always successful this past week.
Mr. 604 is very supportive and knows his family can be a lot, but at the end of the day a) he's just a man 😂 (and not a miracle worker) and b) they are his family and he himself has had to "grin and bear" a great many things over the course of his life, so he has more practice at it but doesn't necessarily have any advice to impart on how to better cope with the chaos.
It makes me feel like a curmudgeon for not being able to suck it up more and pretend for the sake of the kids, or even to help maintain this performance of "family togetherness" that seems to be the whole point of whatever the heck everyone was doing. So this holiday season has thus far been exhausting, filled with guilt, and left me feeling a bit empty.
I am okay and recovering now, it will just take a few days I think. If you read this far - thank you! I just needed to rant a little bit - I don't feel much like myself these days and that in itself can be depressing, especially at a time when I'm supposed to be experiencing the opposite. Here's to some rest, some quiet, some peace in the last few days of 2024 for myself, Mr. 604, and anyone else who needs it! đŸ€žđŸ»đŸ„°
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conjuring-ghouls · 1 year ago
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Thank you @ghu-leh and @susulbr for tagging me! đŸ–€
Last song: basket case - green day
Favorite color: dark blue and dark green
Currently watching: i've been watching loads of mr. ballen's videos on youtube lately
Last movie: jane eyre (one of my all time favorites)
Sweet/spicy/savory: sweet or savory, i'm too weak for spicy hehehe
Relationship: single
Current obsession: one (1) satanic pope
Last thing googled: graveyark 4k. i was doing some spooky edits for my sister!
Selfie: I don't usually share my face, but have this one from some months ago
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I know some of my moots have done this already, so i'm tagging some people that i think still haven't: @ghuleh-recs @cardi-c @writingjourney @rotting-tonight @togetherasone @delullu @awildjonesyappears @copias-sewer-rat @cardis-tricycle
(also please don't feel pressured to share a selfie or to show your face! feel free to skip that one đŸ–€)
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unriding · 1 month ago
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me n moze say good morning to the world !!! ᕙ( â€ąÌ€ ᗜ â€ąÌ )ᕗ
art by @rabbbitseason of course <3
#🐩‍⬛🐕 .#<-#hehe i took inspo from kai’s rb of my mb:>#MY FIRST MOEVIE COMM#this is queued#im asleep (at least i should be by the time this is posted) but it’s a mystery as to how i will fall asleep knowing i would have to#close my eyes and not actively stare at this for the rest of my life#full factory reset i really don’t know what i would even say to this đŸ„č im just#things i would do for bitti : anything! i cannot think of something i wouldn’t do for her#i gave her the most cursed ref known to mankind and she came up with this im so đŸ„č thank you so much 
 your art blows me away every time 
.#i may pass out seeing him in your style 
 the way you did his hands and he’s so big#this is me -> à»’ê’°àŸ€àœČ o̶̷̎̀ ÌŻo̶̷̎̀ ê’±àŸ€àœČ১ at this HSJDNCN aaaaaa đŸ„č#i will also state the very obvious and say that bitti is such a pleasure to work with ajsnxnkck 
.. please im on my knees#when i saw this- my stomach literally flipped inside out and my ears were ringing .. and my heart was beating a million beats per second#if bitti’s comms were open for eternity & i won the lottery- i would commission so many mozes 
.. the world would be full of bitti’s mozes.#^ though that sounds terrible for bitti 
 im so sorry#i swear that won’t happen i would never do that to you#he is sooooo yum in your style (severe & outrageous understatement)#but what i can do is stare at this all day#THANK YOU BITTI UEUEJJSJS đŸ„čđŸ„čđŸ„č I HOPE UR PILLOWS R ALWAYS COLD !!!#not even aventurine’s shield can protect me from the 100000000 damage i took from this /pos#such a shield doesn’t exist in the hsr realm or the real world !!!#evie.ss#IM KIND OF ANGRY THAT I KNOW THERES NOTHING I CAN SAY TO EXPRESS HOW I FEEL !!!!! WHAT COULD I SAY >:#WHAT AN ODD FEELING WHERE I AM reduced to my knees but from positive emotions alone 
#im so dizzy /pos let me stop here this is already so long omg đŸ„č#edit: dude /gn my screen time is gonna skyrocket because im still staring with such a dopey smile on my face ahsndnxkc gosh im happy :’) th#thank you so much bitti 
. this means so much to me#i literally can not put into words how much this has made my entire year :’)) im so soft im so happy
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st8rkey · 1 day ago
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reaction dump đŸ©”đŸ©”
i also just finished part 2 before reading this and every bit got me feral. i was literally pacing around the room trying to compose myself after reading it 😭 literally TOO EXCITED to read this
i already saw cheating in the warnings and im so scared for rafe now.. okay bye!!
—
Rafe takes what he wants, and he doesn’t go down with a fight. Hopefully, that runs in the family. — imagine cam and rafe fight each other. dude i would die if that happens
“C’mon... You’re my girl. I need you happy before I go out on the field or I'm not gonna be able to concentrate on shit.”
love it when they say ‘my girl’ my god, please fuck me already? thanks 😊😊
“Mmm
 That’s my girl,”
my back just snapped like a glowstick
“You look good. Fuck, you look pretty, baby,” he hums.
fuck i’d fold so hard. like turn that tv off and take your clothes off.
—
“We don’t need to tell him, alright?” He asks. “Can you keep that between you and me? I just don’t wanna have him get in the way of this– you and I. Of course, you two still have each other, but I think what we have is different.” — WAITTT FUCK WHATT?? girlfriend i think my mattress might break because of how much i’ve been hitting it. im going feral over here..
—
“What, you’re not gonna let me watch,” JJ smiles and winks as he sees you on Rafe’s end. Rafe shoves him out of focus–the two bickering back and forth, getting their jabs in between laughs. “Goodnight, sweetheart,’ JJ calls to you.
“Yeah, you too, bitch,” Rafe smiles..
IM DYINNGGGGG i can’t anymore. stop this is the reason why i love you and your account so much đŸ€
—
You look at Cam, he holds your gaze for a moment before burying his face in his hands. No.
fuck no what, i had to re-read this part ten times before i understood. WHATTTT your mind is genius.
I mean, he lied
 He pretended to be Rafe–his own brother, the man who told him to stay away.
OH MY GODDDDDDD. STOPPPPP đŸ« đŸ« 
“Why did you stop, baby?” You ask Rafe, letting your eyes flick up to Cam’s as well, running on pure adrenaline. “Strip.”
oh shittttttt— uhm i think im not even able to think straight after reading this (in a good way obviously)
He rubs this thumb across the wetness, lifting it to his lips to suck it clean with his eyes on you. bend me over the bed and fuck me or something because WHATTT
“Damn, you’re evil for this, baby. Shit
 Just wait for tomorrow night I fuckin’ swear-” — oh you are amazing for this, what do i do without you? no, what does tumblr do with without you đŸ„č
‷ you don’t know how much i love you. i swear, you always feed my obsessions in all the right ways.
—
Your bottom lip pouts and trembles in overstimulation as fat tears roll down your hot cheeks. You look down at Cam, scratching your nails into his buzzed hair. His eyes rake up your body, landing on your lips, licking his own—no doubt thinking about his dick sliding in and out and your lips on him.
girl what are you doing to me?? i can’t do this. screaming and giggling in bed right now
“Fuck–Fuck, JJ. What the hell?” — for fucks sake are you kidding me 😔😔
What the fuck did I just do?
that’s what i’m wondering too!! i am baffled, shocked, are there any other synonyms? part 4 can’t come soon enough đŸ˜« love me some drama
I LOVE YOU, i’m obsessed with this.
𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘 â„™đ•’đ•Łđ•„ 𝟛 – 𝕋𝕹𝕚𝕟 ℝ𝕒𝕗𝕖 đ”œđ•šđ•”
+18 𝓜đ“Čđ“·đ“žđ“» 𝓓𝓝𝓘
Part 1 𝜗𝜚 Part 2
đ™Čđšžđš›đšđšŠđš’đš—đ™±đšŠđš—đšđšœ!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 đ™±đšžđšŁđšŁđ™Č𝚞𝚝!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 đ™¶đ™”!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛
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Warning: language, pet names, kissing, angst, accidental cheating, manipulation, cheating, skype sex, sex toys, mutual masterbation, mentions of a sex tape, swearing, degredation, dom!rafe, multiple orgasms, overstim., brief oral (fem. receiving), Cam takes the toy and starts using it on her, he also performs brief oral without verbal constant
📖 After meeting Rafe's (CurtainBangs!) twin brother Cam (BuzzCut!) for the first time, Rafe gives you a proposal you can't help but accept: sharing you. What Rafe didn't expect was his jealousy
 And what you didn't expect was a text from Cam a week later wanting to see you again.
Reader’s POV:
The text from Cam sat there staring at you. Miss me? ‘Cause I need you princess.’ Those words carry the weight of everything you hadn’t even gotten to process yet. You pace the apartment, thinking about the next steps, your thoughts battling—looping on an endless cycle. Cam’s text wasn’t just a message
 That was an invitation.
Rafe told you the night was supposed to mean nothing, but it meant an awful lot. It was supposed to be something fun, maybe a one-time thing
 Something Rafe said he had done in the past, but something had changed when it came to you. There were feelings there far beyond anything he had felt before. Now you’re left standing in the aftermath a week later, feeling like the ground is shifting underneath you.
Cam is Rafe’s brother
 His fucking twin. Someone he trusts–someone he brought into your life without hesitation. But to you, Cam wasn’t just Rafe’s brother anymore. That night created something new between you that you didn’t think you could handle

Grabbing your phone, you sit on the couch, fingers hovering over the keyboard.
You: Okay.
The word stares back at you
 Simple, but heavy. Sending this message without talking to Rafe first
 what am I thinking? But, in a way, it wasn’t just you and Rafe anymore. Rafe had opened that door
 And you weren’t ready to close it.
I can’t. You toss your phone down on the couch cushion beside you, heart banging in your chest. Walking to your room, you gather your things, desperately needing to get out of the house and clear your mind. Maybe time is exactly what I need; you think to yourself as you grab your keys and head toward the door.
You bite your lips, guilt creeping in as you come to terms with the fact that Cam is Rafe’s brother
 If I don't say anything at all, he’d come regardless. Rafe takes what he wants, and he doesn’t go down with a fight. Hopefully, that runs in the family.
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You look down at your phone, the message still sitting there unsent. Your stomach twists as you think about Rafe’s admittance last week in the bedroom. How blindsided would he be if he knew you had been thinking about this as much as you have–letting it affect you the way it is?
Again, you set your phone down and roll out the tension in your neck, weighing the pros and cons and analyzing the risk. As you tip your head back on the couch, you hear your phone buzz. You grab it off the couch cushion, half-expecting another text from Cam, until you see Unkown.
“Hey,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady, but you can hear the waver.
“Hey, princess,” Rafe replies, his voice warm and familiar, helping ease your tension. You can hear the commotion of the hotel lobby in the background, the faint hum of noise as the boys gear up to head out to the stadium. “What are you up to, baby?”
You glance at the TV ESPN College GameDay, already loaded. It should be a simple answer
 But your mind is a mess, making it hard to wade through your thoughts.
“Baby?” He tries in a gentle voice. “You there?”
“Mhmm
” You hum, pushing the utterance past your lips. “Just scrolling Tumblr, waiting for the game to start; relaxing.”
“Good,” he drawls, his voice warm and smooth. “Just wanted to make sure you got the game to load.”
You pause and close your eyes, feeling the weight of your messages from Cam pushing down on your chest. The words are already forming in your throat. “Rafe,” you blurt.
“Yo,” he laughs nervously. “Uhh
 You good, baby?”
You clear your throat, feeling heat pool in your cheeks. “Yeah
 I–I got a text from Cam.”
The silence on the other end of the phone is deafening. You listen closely, hearing the lobby noise come through a little louder. “Uh, what? What did he say, baby?” He finally asks, keeping his tone calm.
“He said he wants to see me,” you whisper, met with more silence from Rafe.
“Jesus Christ,” he grumbles. “He’s my brother
 ‘Course he can’t stay away.” There’s a lightness to his tone as if he’s not at all surprised. The tension in your shoulders falls slightly at his response. Unsure of what his response would be—anger or jealousy—no part of you expected this. “You’re fine, princess. Just got in my head a little bit last weekend. It’s not a big deal, aight?”
“Okay
” You breathe, the nagging want to ask if it’s okay if he can come over replacing the previous discomfort. “Is it alright if he does?”
“Yeah, baby. I'll give him a quick call when we off.”
“You sure?” You ask uneasily.
“You gotta relax, baby. I wouldn’t have introduced the two of you if I was worried
 I never worry about you.” You take a deep breath, pressing it out slowly, listening to Rafe’s light laugh on the other end. “Stop worryin’, pretty.”
“Okay,” you whisper.
“C’mon... You’re my girl. I need you happy before I go out on the field or I'm not gonna be able to concentrate on shit.”
“I’m your girl,” you answer sweetly. “I’m fine. Just fine baby. I love you.”
“I love you too,” Rafe adds.
“I’m excited to watch you play,” you smile.
“Mmm
 That’s my girl,” he hums. “I’ll call you when I get back to the hotel tonight. Shouldn’t be too late, aight?”
“Sounds perfect,” you reply.
The phone clicks off, leaving you with your thoughts in the apartment's quiet. Rafe’s trust was absolute, making everything much more complicated when you knew you were about to step outside your relationship without him knowing—especially now, discovering he had been okay with it all along.
You take a deep breath, trying to steady the storm inside you. Looking at the screen, you try your best to relax, smiling as you see your boyfriend’s face pop up.
After a while, the game was on, and Rafe was playing like a star. The commenters praised Rafe, his name coming through the speakers repeatedly, leaving your thoughts ping-ponging between both boys—back and forth, back and forth–the grip on your phone getting tighter by the second.
Buzz.
Cam: Out front
Your eyes widen as you see the notification, making all of those thoughts come to a screeching halt.
Just like you had guessed, Cam didn’t wait for your response, taking the Cameron approach to the matter, leaving you relieved and nervous, stressed and elated, completely fuckin’ torn as you walked to the door. Your body trembles with adrenaline as you grab the handle.
Rafe said it was ‘okay.’ So why am I still so nervous? You feel a familiar rush as you look into his beautiful eyes–that same feeling bubbling just under the surface as it had been night one.
“Hey, baby,” Cam smiles, his voice deep and warm. “M’sorry for just coming. You can tell me to fuck off. I just–I couldn’t wait any longer.” You swallow thickly as he steps closer, waiting for a response.
“It’s fine,” you whisper. “I’m sorry I didn’t respond. I just didn’t–” Your words get swallowed in a deep, uneasy breath.
“You didn’t know if Rafe would be okay with it,” he answers for you. You look up at him, feeling overwhelmed.
“Yeah
”
“I didn’t think he’d agree either, but he came around,” he assures you as he wraps his arm around your waist. You draw a sharp little breath, and before you can speak, he captures your lips in a tender kiss.
He chuckles breathily against your lips as he feels you tremble in his arms.
“You’re good, alright? We got you.”
You swallow the lump in your throat, looking up at him, your nails scratching into his tight buzz cut. “Okay.”
“Atta girl,” he soothes as his lips travel along your cheeks and neck, pressing gentle kisses on top.
“I missed you,” you whisper. He lets out a delighted groan, squeezing you as he lifts you off your feet into a hug.
“Fuck
 I missed you too, sweetheart. Haven't stopped thinkin’ about you.”
“Neither have I.” You bury yourself in his arms for a few more moments.
“
 Relax,” teases again, and you melt in his arms a little more. You let out a laborious laugh before drawing a deeper breath than you have in days. “Now let’s watch this jackass play ball, huh?” Cam sets you down on the ground, walking into the living room. His fingers stay laced in yours, eyes tracing your body as he follows you. “You look good. Fuck, you look pretty, baby,” he hums.
You let out a little gasp and a laugh as he crashes down on the couch, pulling you on top of him as the second half starts. He wraps you up in his big arms, your head resting on his muscular chest.
You listen to his level breathing and the steady beating of his heart as the game goes on. His big, rough fingers trace your spine lazily during commercial breaks, making your entire body feel electric from that simple touch alone.
You watch proudly as your boyfriend stands with the other team captain for the post-game interview, grinning ear to ear. The interviewer kicks it back to the ESPN studio, leaving Cam with your full attention.
The corners of Cam’s lips curl into the prettiest smile, making your stomach flutter. “Princess
” He mumbles as you rest your chin resting on his chest.
“Mhmm,” you hum.
“I don’t think I could have stayed away even if Rafe said ‘no,’” he whispers, his voice just above a hush. You can tell those words hadn’t left his lips easily— like he had been thinking about them since he left. And, like you, he knew that feeling that was wrong, too.
“Me either,” you breathe, answering honestly.
“We don’t need to tell him, alright?” He asks. “Can you keep that between you and me? I just don’t wanna have him get in the way of this– you and I. Of course, you two still have each other, but I think what we have is different.”
“I think so, too,” you whisper.
The post-game show droned on, and then the highlights of the day’s games, all just background noise as the two of you fell into a steady rhythm together: talking, joking, and snuggling as the warmth of his body pressed against yours. You could feel the connection between the two of you growing stronger, a bond you hadn’t anticipated this early hitting you hard and fast–absolutely impossible to forget.
Buzz.
You watch as your phone trembles on the coffee table with a new message from Rafe, letting you know he is back at the hotel and waiting. “It’s Rafe,” you beam; Cam’s expression softens as he brushes some hair off your face.
“Sounds good, baby
”
You step off the couch and walk toward the bedroom. Pulling open the laptop, you look across the room, fixing your hair and outfit in the mirror as Skype loads.
“Babygirl,” you hear Rafe cheer. His loud voice breaks the speakers a little, crackling in the feedback with his post-win excitement. You swoon, looking at the pretty boy on the other side of the screen. “Get the fuck out, Maybank,” he scoffs.
“What, you’re not gonna let me watch,” JJ smiles and winks as he sees you on Rafe’s end. Rafe shoves him out of focus–the two bickering back and forth, getting their jabs in between laughs. “Goodnight, sweetheart,’ JJ calls to you.
“Yeah, you too, bitch,” Rafe smiles, flicking off the cornerback as he continues to accost Rafe ‘til the door shuts, the room falling silent.
“Hey, princess!” Rafe hums in a deeper tone, glowing with pride and excitement.
“Fuck, baby. That was a good game,” you smile as you crawl closer.
He gets easily distracted, seeing you in his jersey, making your excitement rise as well. “Look at you,” he praises as he leans in a little closer.
“You look good too, baby. Is that new?” You giggle and wink, the man already knowing where you're going as you eye up his new sweatshirt.
“Yeah. Yeah. It’s all yours, baby,” he chuckles and his plays with the strings a little before pulling off the hood. “N’thank you, sweetheart. We did alright.”
“Alright?” You puff. “You were amazing.”
He laughs that laugh, running his fingers through his hair. “I wish I had you here to celebrate with me, pretty.” His tone softens as he looks at you; you can tell he means every word. You look over your computer, watching as Cam walks into the room and takes a seat atop the dresser. “Hate leavin’ you alone on a Saturday night,” your stomach falls, eyes fluttering at his words.
“Oh
” Your heart and mind start to race. “I wish I was there too.” Your voice breaks with adrenaline as you try to explain it away in your mind
 Maybe he just means without him? Alone
 without him?
“You should go out or somethin’... Get some air, have a little fun, get a drink for me. I’ll be home tomorrow, and we can celebrate then, okay?” You nod quickly, trying to push that uneasy feeling aside.
I mean, I got a call from him before the game
 I talked to Rafe. Am I going fucking crazy?
“I’ll be fine,” you smile, feeling your lips tremble.
“Missed our pregame chat
 And our post-game shower for sure,” he chuckles sleazily.
You look at Cam, he holds your gaze for a moment before burying his face in his hands. No.
“You doin’ okay, baby?” Rafe asks as he cocks his head slightly, looking back at you. “After last week n’all? Seems like you've had a lot on your mind.”
“Mhmm
 m’fine,” you answer far too casually for how uneasy you look now.
“Good, baby. That’s good,” he smiles. “So, uhh... You still up for a little fun tonight, princess?”
Cam looks up to the ceiling, fighting his own internal battle. I mean, he lied
 He pretended to be Rafe–his own brother, the man who told him to stay away. He throws his gaze back down to the floor, nodding to himself as he pulls himself to his feet, and right when he goes to step toward the door, you reach down, pulling Rafe’s jersey over your head, leaving you in nothing but a lace bra and panties, acting before you can even think it through.
His head turns toward you, and the man draws a deep breath as his eyes fall down your body, taking you in like the first time. Your eyes return to the computer screen, watching Rafe do the same. A deep moan comes through your speakers; his pretty blue eyes rolling back in his skull.
“Fuck, baby,” he sighs blissfully, tearing himself out of his shirt. You settle back down on the mattress, thighs spread wide as you look back at Rafe, watching out of the corner of your eye as Cam walks back, taking a more comfortable position on a chair as his darkened eyes lay set on you.
“Why did you stop, baby?” You ask Rafe, letting your eyes flick up to Cam’s as well, running on pure adrenaline. “Strip.”
Rafe chuckles darkly, and Cam smiles and bites his lip, catching the direction meant for both of them. Cam quickly pulls himself out of his shirt as well, making your mind swirl. You feel yourself growing wetter by the second, the chill of the wet lace clinging to your hot skin. And just like clockwork, the two boys pull down their pants, crashing back down onto the seat and the bed, their boxers tented out by their big cocks.
You bite your lip and smile as you reach behind your back, unclasping your bra and holding the lace to your chest as your hand shakes like a leaf, but you can’t stop. “You gonna be a tease, princess?” Rafe asks through a laugh. “M’not there to discipline you. You gonna test me, or are you gonna be a good girl?”
“Always a good girl for you, baby,” you whisper as you flick your bra to the floor.
“Fuck,” Rafe groans as he paws off his last bit of clothing, his long, thick clock hitting his tight abs with a smack as Cam quickly does the same. Goosebumps bloom across your skin and your body, riding an indescribable high. “Got that video, baby?” Rafe asks.
“Mhmm
” You prop up your phone on your computer, pushing play, listening to your soft giggle and Rafe's low moan swell through the phone’s tiny speaker.
“Do you have the video, baby?” You ask as your right-hand drifts between your thighs, rubbing your clit lightly through the fabric. You see a flicker of movement out of the top of your eyes as Cam licks his lips hungrily.
“‘Course I do, princess
 I’ve been thinkin’ about it all fuckin’ day.”
Cam straightens up a little, his view obstructed by the laptop, desperately wanting to watch you play with your pussy. He stands up from his seat, his fat cock standing straight–his swollen head already leaking with precum sheened at the tip as he walks to the edge of the bed, taking a seat.
Your fingers work a little quicker, teasing both boys with what they can’t touch. Your head falls back, a soft moan leaving your lips with every even breath. You look down at Rafe, watching his big fist wrap around his thick cock, stroking slowly.
“Take off your panties, baby,” Rafe mumbles. You drag the wet material down your thighs, flicking them to Cam, making the beautiful boy take his bottom lip between his teeth as he runs the material through his big fingers. He rubs this thumb across the wetness, lifting it to his lips to suck it clean with his eyes on you.
“You look so pretty on camera, princess
 Tell me why I’m takin’ my eyes off you again?” Rafe chuckles, his eyes dancing between you and the home movie on his phone, the man on Cloud 9.
“I love having your attention, Daddy,” you smile as you glide your fingers wet through your slick folds, “gets me wet,” you tease as you bring them back up to your clit hating yourself for how comfortable you feel—not hating yourself enough to quit.
“So fuckin’ dirty, princess. I love it,” he hums as he starts to stroke his dick a little faster, getting off at the sight of you, spitting on his cock for lube.
Your eyes shift slightly, biting back as you smile as Cam wraps the pretty lace around the base of his thick length, hissing at the contact as he wraps himself tight. You can feel yourself getting wetter by the second, the boys holding back their sounds just to hear more of it as they watch you close.
You lean out of the screen, reaching into the nightstand, pulling out a vibrator, showing it off for the camera. “Fuck, baby,” Rafe hums as he adjusts slightly, forgoing the video altogether as he catches a glimpse of your toy, “you’re killin’ me.” You look up at Cam, the desperation in his eyes, fighting back his praise and pleasured sounds with his life.
“Babygirl,” Rafe murmurs as his eyes rake over your naked body, the tip of the vibrator replacing your fingers on your sex. “Stop fuckin’ with me.” Chills fall down your spine as you hear Rafe’s deep, commanding voice.
“What do you want, Rafe?” You ask breathily as you push it a little deeper between your thighs, tracing your slit before showing it to the boys; the head drenched with your wetness.
“Shittt
 Turn it on,” he mumbles as his breathing quickens, the gold chain on his chest catching the light.
“Yes, Daddy,” you turn it on, making a show of it as the length of it twirls and shakes. You can feel how drenched you are, your drooling hole leaking down your inner thigh. You gasp as the silicone tip meets your plush skin, tracing through the mess before lifting your eyes to Rafe.
“Push it in, pretty.” You gasp as the vibrations hit your clit, muscles jolting from the contact, that shock quickly turning into pleasure. Your thighs tremble as you ghost the tip over your puffy clit, pussy clenching around nothing. “Fuckin’ push it in,” Rafe moans. “Damn, you’re evil for this, baby. Shit
 Just wait for tomorrow night I fuckin’ swear-”
“Shit!” You squeal; both boys’ moans cancel each other out as you stuff the toy inside your aching core. Your eyes shift between Rafe and Cam as they work their fists over their throbbing dicks.
“Play with that shit. C’mon, baby. C’mon,” Rafe pleads through a deep groan as he watches you close.
“So pretty, baby. Shit, you look so damn good,” Cam mumbles under his breath as he watches the toy fuck in and out of you, keeping your pace with your strokes.
You let out a hoarse cry as you find your g-spot, the little vibrating nub pressing against your clit perfectly. Your breathing starts to quicken with your heart, the knot in your stomach growing tighter and tighter. Your eyes clamp shut as you feel yourself about to near your peak.
“Open your eyes, baby. M’gonna cum
 Fuck. I’m gonna cum for you,” Rafe hums. Your orgasm hits you fast, washing over you like a wave. You watch the screen as Rafe strokes a few more times before letting his thick cock go, pulsing as he cums in ropes landing hot on his abs as he pants like a dog.
Cam bites his lips, wrapping his fist around the delicate lace, pulling it down to his tip. His head falls back as he empties himself into the lace. His ab muscles clench as his heavy load dirties your panties, making an absolute mess of the fabric.
The three of you breathe heavily, coming down from your highs together. A broad smile spreads across Rafe’s lips as he tilts his head back, hitting the hotel headboard with a soft thud. “Mmm
 Get on your back, baby,” Rafe hums. “You're cummin’ again.”
“Yeah?” You ask with a breathless laugh as you look between Rafe and the video playing on the phone, watching Rafe throw you to the mattress and plunge back in fast.
“Yeah, princess. Wanna hear you cum with yourself. Better hurry up, sweetheart. Sounds like you’re close,” he smiles smugly as you lay down on the bed, starting up the vibrator, your thighs, pussy still quaking from your first orgasm.
Your eyes widen as you look between your thighs, watching Cam take it off your hands before pushing it inside for you. You cry out, back arching off the mattress as he works it in at the perfect angle, the head of the vibration swirls against your g-spot, vibrator flicking at your clit.
“Fuck, you can take dick like a pornstar. Can't you princess?” Rafe praises—his cock still hard, as he shifts his focus between the old video and the pleasure on your face, the rest of your body cut off from the lens as Cam works the toy in and out.
Your bottom lip pouts and trembles in overstimulation as fat tears roll down your hot cheeks. You look down at Cam, scratching your nails into his buzzed hair. His eyes rake up your body, landing on your lips, licking his own—no doubt thinking about his dick sliding in and out and your lips on him.
He turns up the speed to the max, making you fight against him slightly, but he grabs your body, pinning you to the mattress.
“Are you gonna cum, princess?” Rafe drawls, and you nod rapidly. “Good fuckin’ girl. Give it to me.”
“Mhmm,” is all you can muster. “Fuck!” You whine as your damn breaks, pleasure coursing through your body as you flutter around the vibrator, cumming in tandem with the video of yourself.
Cam pulls out the vibrator, making you gasp. He flattens his tongue, licking a line up your silk, causing you to whimper pathetically as he works you through your high. Cam curls his arms, forcing you closer as he locks onto your puffy clit, sucking and flicking his tongue; feeling yourself close to a third release but you trap him between your thighs, throwing him daggers with your gaze.
“Fuck–Fuck, JJ. What the hell?” Rafe calls as you hear the door push open on Rafe’s end, making all three of you jump. Your hand clamps over your lips, as you watch your boyfriend, do his best to cover himself up while his teammate cackles. “Knock on the goddamn door,” he barks.
“Forgot my wallet,” JJ says, his voice on the edge of laughter.
Rafe covers himself more, putting his big hand up to the camera as JJ pops his head in, grabbing his wallet off the nightstand. “I’ll fuckin’ kill you,” Rafe hisses, only half-kidding, but you’re already covered up with a blanket anyway. His eyes track JJ as he walks away, heading out the door.
“Goddamn
” Rafe mutters as he pulls back the dirtied duvet, eyeing the mess. “How many more guys am I gonna have to fight off you today?” He huffs.
Cam looks over his shoulder slightly as he pulls back on his sweats. You can see it in his eyes, Cam hit with the bitter taste of guilt. Rafe smiles at you lovingly, utterly oblivious to the war in your mind and his brother in the room.
“Rafe-”
“I’ll see you tomorrow, princess. I love you,” he cuts you off before you go to speak, seconds away from spilling your guts. Maybe it’s for the best

“I love you too,” you whisper, hearing the slight crack in your voice.
You grab the top of your laptop, pulling it shut, your heart banging in your ears as the weight of the situation starts to pile on you. You felt a rush of panic flood through you—not knowing whether to laugh or cry.
What the fuck did I just do?
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⭐part 4 coming soon⭐
tags: @rafesthroatbaby @littlelamy @kisses4angels @watchmerora @buckybarnessweetheart @anamiad00msday @namelesslosers @cades-outsider @romaescapes @starkeysprincess @oxpogues4lifexo @unrealmirrorball @sleepiibunniiii @gri959 @rafesgiirl @daryldixon83 @akobx @hyperfixationgirl @lhhlver @rrafeswhore @slut-4-gojo @blair-bears-blog @loveesiren @cameronwillow @rafegf-real @alphabetically-deranged @ariana2saucyy @rafestoothbrush
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