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Dreaming of Peaches - Bang Chan
Bang Chan has a dream of little curls and your eyes.
It had been a strange day. Chris had been acting a bit off, nothing too alarming, but enough for you to notice. He was quieter than usual, his touches lingering just a bit longer, as though he was lost in thought every time he looked at you. It wasn’t unusual for him to have moments of introspection, but today felt... different.
Later that evening, as you were settled in your bed, you felt his arms snake around your waist from behind. He pulled you close, his chin resting on your shoulder. His hand, warm and steady, came to rest on your stomach. It was comforting, and yet, there was a nervous energy about him.
“Chris,” you murmured, placing your hand over his. “Are you okay? You’ve been... distant today.”
There was a pause. You felt him shift slightly, his hand retreating as if it had been caught somewhere it wasn’t meant to be. That small movement made you turn around to face him. His eyes flicked away, uncharacteristically avoiding yours. That alone was enough to make you tilt your head in confusion.
“Hey,” you said softly, taking his hand in yours. “What’s going on? You know you can tell me anything if you want.”
His lips parted, but no words came out at first. He looked almost embarrassed, his ears tinged pink, and he ran a hand through his hair before meeting your gaze. “I... I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable,” he began, his voice barely above a whisper. “It’s... kind of silly, really.”
Your reassuring look must have encouraged him, because he sighed and began to ramble. “I had this dream last night. You were pregnant... and we had a little girl. She was running around, and she had my stupid curly hair and your eyes. And – I don’t know – it felt so real. When I woke up, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I don’t want you to feel pressured, or like I’m... pushing something on you, or that—”
“Chris,” you interrupted gently, squeezing his hand. He stopped mid-sentence, looking at you with wide, almost vulnerable eyes. “I don’t know what the future holds for us,” you admitted, your voice steady. “But if it’s with you, I’m not scared.”
There was a beat of silence before a smile broke across his face, soft and boyish. “She had your eyes,” he repeated, a hint of awe in his voice. “And the curliest little head of hair, just like mine. And—” He chuckled, his voice warming with amusement. “you had this little baby bump. Like, the cutest little bump I’ve ever seen.”
You couldn’t help but laugh, feeling the tension dissolve into something tender and warm. “The bump, huh? That’s what stood out to you?”
Chris’ ears turned a shade pinker as he grinned sheepishly. “I mean, yeah. You were glowing, and you kept resting your hands on it like it was the most precious thing in the world. I guess it just stuck with me.”
You looked at him thoughtfully, gently brushing a strand of his hair away. “Dreams can be silly, but can also hold wants of the heart. If ours don’t align, we should always be honest with each other. No matter what.”
Chris’s smile widened, and he leaned in to kiss your forehead. “You’re right. And hey, don’t worry, I’ve already got seven kids to take care of,” he said with a mischievous grin.
You laughed then raised an eyebrow, a thought hitting you. “By the way… what did we name the child?”
Chris paused for a moment, then let out a dramatic sigh. “I think we called her … Peaches,” he said, grinning like he had just solved the biggest mystery of the century.
You blinked at him, unable to hold back your laughter. “Peaches? Really?”
“Hey, it was your idea,” he teased, winking.
You gasped, still laughing, and held up your hands in protest. "Nonono, we are not naming our kid something like that," you said, eyes wide with disbelief.
Chris chuckled, the mischievous glint in his eyes never fading as you protested. But before you could argue further, he leaned in, silencing you with a gentle kiss. His lips were soft, a mix of affection and amusement, and the warmth of his touch sent a ripple of calm through you.
Shaking his head he mouthed the words "our kid" – almost as if he was testing the idea out in his own mind, as if it was too surreal for him to say aloud.
masterlist
#bang chan imagines#stray kids imagines#skz imagines#bang chan scenarios#stray kids scenarios#bang chan#stray kids#skz#skz scenarios#skz x reader#skz x you#stray kids fanfic#skz fanfic#skz fluff#bang chan fluff#stray kids x reader#bang chan x reader#stray kids fluff
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˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧
"psst, y/n...y/n, wake up!"
your eyes fluttered as you stir, before gaining composure and slowly opening your eyes; your best friend is crouched down beside you, a big grin on his face as he stares down at you. "chris, what time is it?"
"it's already past midnight," he whispers to you, nodding his head towards you, "c'mon, we have to go before we wake everyone else up!"
"chris, i-"
"come on, y/n!"
a small groan leaves your lips as you get up as quiet as possible from your blanket spread on the floor next to nate. nick and matt had successfully been able to sleep on the actual bed, and you're pretty sure nate had rolled off and fell next to you. chris volunteered to sleep next to you on the floor, claiming you'd get "lonely" by yourself down there; all of your friends knew chris just wanted an excuse to be near you at all costs.
you rub the sleep from your eyes, smoothing out your pajamas that you had worn to sleep. you and chris wore your matching set of snoopy pants, whilst you opted for a white tank top.
a shiver ran down your spine at the exposure of the chilly wind that seeped inside from the window. you turned to see the window slightly cracked open, small dribbles of snow pattering softly against the glass. chris tossed you a hoodie of his, which you gratefully accepted as you threw it on your shoulders.
"what are we even doing up this early?" you giggled to him, as he grins while taking your hand.
you both tip-toed to the kitchen, careful not to wake everyone in the house up. two steaming mugs sit on the countertop, filled to the brim with hot chocolate; marshmallows decorate the top, the heat making fun swirls as it circles around the coffee mugs.
"i wanted to make snowmen," chris shrugs, causing your eyes to widen and then narrow at him.
"boy, are you kidding me?" you seethe, hurrying to your own mug as you let the heat encompass you. "i was trying to sleep!"
"but you love the snow!" chris pouts, causing you to roll your eyes, "an' i didn't wanna make them alone."
after a few sips of hot chocolate, putting your hands on your hips and giving chris an exasperated look. "fine, i'll make them with you. but you owe me."
"deal, m'lady," chris agrees, wriggling his eyebrows, "let's go!"
he takes your hand in his, the both of you walking towards the front door of the cozy home. once outside, you're immediately greeted with the beautiful scenery of snow falling from the sky. a small gasp leaves your lips at the sight, watching as it falls slowly to the covered streets of boston. the streetlights illuminated an icicle that covered nick's bedroom window from upstairs, and you couldn't help the grin that spread across your face.
"hey kid, y'done gawking at the icicles?" chris suddenly whispers in your ear, to which you elbow him slightly.
"i bet i can make mine before you!"
"you're on!"
whilst the rest of the city was fast asleep, you and chris littered your street with giggles and laughs as you built snowmen with each other. you loved christmas with the sturniolo's. when your house didn't feel Iike home, they always welcomed you with open arms, treating you as their own. especially your best friend, chris; most of all, he felt the most like home.
the beautiful white crystalline snow continued to fall upon you guys, laughter filling the quiet and making you feel like a kid again. that was the effect he seemed to have on you; he healed and bought out your inner child again.
your heart was filled with nothing but a pure joy as you wagged your arms up and down whilst in the snow, creating a snow angel. you looked up at the sky, smiling as you reveled in the comfort of the people that felt like home.
all the while, chris's gaze never leaves you; he watches you with nothing but pure admiration lining his features, drinking in the sight of your happiness. and he had yet to know he was one of the many reasons that caused it.
you turned to look at him just then, your heart hammering in your chest as his lips slowly upturn into a smile. "merry christmas, m'lady."
"merry christmas, chris."
#kiwi's love letter 💌#chris sturniolo#chris sturniolo imagine#chris sturniolo x you#chris sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo blurb#chris sturniolo fluff#christopher sturniolo x reader#christopher owen sturniolo#christopher sturniolo blurb#christopher sturniolo au#christopher sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo#sturniolo fluff#sturniolo fandom
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Stocking Stuffer
18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}
♡♡Merry Christmas♡♡
{Elijah Mikaelson x f!reader} Elijah spends the season giving to others, but tonight, it’s your turn to show him how much he means to you.
3.4k words - Warnings: sssmuuuttt, riding, festive roleplay, stockings (the sexy kind), praise, oral (m!receiving), blood drinking, slightly sub elijah (if you squint) && a santa hat...
@starkleila @lydia1369sworld @notleylaaa @vampiresluv
@myanmy @xflowerbombxo @maryvibess @always-and-forever-daydreaming
@spnaquakindgdom @amournoir @meeom @damienmorton @wickedmuse
@cs-please @complicatedandconfusing-25 @youcanhavemybuckanyday @akala6670229 @yeaiamme2
@itsjulzandmydiamonds @witch-of-letters @elijahstwink @rosecentury
@amanda08319 @starshipcookie @li-da-savage @veggie-eggrolls @spideybv28
@sunkissedebony97 @idk00sblog @savannaounana @sekaishell @b1tchy
@loving-and-dreaming @fancycassie-stayfancy @hcqwxrtss123 @iamawkwardandshy @ziayamikaelson
@absolutemarveltrash @darkened-writer @nina6708 @evasmlp
@madeinmyownmind-blog @lovelyy-moonlight @blacknightrises @poppet05 @sweetieseven
@xoxo-shy @nova-j @decaffeinatedparadisepost @fandom-princess-forevermore @theotherworld97
@origshipfan @cocoabliss @eternalnoble @darth-laeka
Christmas time is always a busy time of year, especially when you have a big family. There were decorations, shopping, baking, and more decorating. Elijah had been running around for weeks making sure that his family would have the best Christmas possible.
You had spent entire days shopping with him, watching him meticulously pick out the right gifts for his family and friends. You helped him wrap the gifts, decorate the house, and hang stockings. He was endlessly giving, endlessly sweet. Yet, as much as you loved his dedication, something tugged at your heart. Watching him scurry off to take care of yet another errand, you couldn’t help but smile—but it wasn’t without noticing how tired he looked.
But there was one thing that bothered you. Elijah was taking on too much by himself. You wanted to show him how you appreciated him, how much you loved him. But every time you tried to take something off his plate, he refused. He had a certain pride, a desire to shoulder everything alone. But love meant knowing when to intervene.
And tonight, you would.
While he was out doing errands, you took some time to set up. You grabbed a santa hat that was hanging in your closet and put it on. Then, you kept looking around deep in your closet for the perfect present to wear. When you finally found what you were looking for, you grinned.
It was a pair of stockings, not the kind you hang over a fireplace. These were the type that were only for Elijah's eyes. You had purchased them for an elf costume you wore last Halloween, and they had been tucked away in the back of your closet. You had a red one and a green one, both with little pom-poms at the top. You slipped them on and looked in the mirror. There was a childlike glee in the way you giggled at your reflection. Elijah was going to love this.
You took off everything else you had been wearing. All that remained was the stockings and the very important santa hat. At first you didn't know where to sit, perhaps the chair in the corner? No, that's not quite right.
You decided on sitting on the bed, your legs crossed and waiting. Nervously anticipating Elijah's arrival, you bit your lip and tried to get comfortable.
Candles were lit, twinkle lights hung, a bottle of whiskey was ready on the nightstand, and your favorite playlist was ready to go. Even with all the romantic touches, you could feel the nervous energy bubbling under your skin. What if he was too exhausted? What if the moment fell flat?
The front door opened, and the sound of bags rustling filled the hallway. Usually, you would be rushing downstairs to help him. But this time you sat there quietly. Your heart pounded, each thud matching the rhythm of his approaching footsteps
"Y/N?" He called out. You didn't respond.
There was a loud sound of bags dropping and him rushing up the stairs. "Y/N?!" He called out, worried.
You grinned when the door flew open and Elijah ran in, his hair a mess, and his shirt half untucked. His face was full of worry and his chest heaved as he caught his breath. "Are you oka-"
Elijah froze mid-sentence when he saw you sitting on the bed. The soft, colorful lights of the room gave your skin a glow, and the candles illuminated the space. His eyes scanned your body, from the santa hat on your head to the red and green stockings on your legs, and all the bare skin in between.
"Merry Christmas." You said softly.
Elijah swallowed and took a step toward you. "Am I dreaming?"
You smiled and shook your head, slowly uncrossing your legs and leaning back onto the bed. "I want to show you how thankful I am. For everything you do. For being so good to everyone."
His lips turned up in a smirk. He started walking towards the bed and began unbuttoning his shirt. You noticed the small details. A slight tension in his jaw, the way his shoulders relaxed as he stepped closer. The weight of his responsibilities seemed to melt away with every button he undid. "Oh, I see. So, this is all just to say thank you, then?"
"No," you said softly. "It's to show how much I love you."
He tossed his shirt to the side and knelt onto the bed, crawling his way up between your legs. His hands moved up your legs slowly and stopped at the tops of the stockings. He pulled on the little pom-pom and let it go, listening to it snap against your thigh.
"I love you too." He leaned down and kissed you softly.
Your fingers dug into his biceps as he pulled you closer, your legs wrapping around his hips. His hand pressed into your lower back, holding you in place as his lips began to travel across your jaw and down to your neck. You tilted your head back, giving him better access.
"I do have a special request." You moaned as his lips grazed your neck.
"Anything." He murmured.
You ran your hand through his hair, tugging gently as his tongue ran along the side of your neck. Then you pulled the santa hat off your head and placed it on his. You pulled away to see the red hat against his dark hair and couldn't help but giggle.
"It looks cute on you." You admitted.
He gave you a mock glare, his playful side shining through, as if daring you to say it again. The contrast between his serious demeanor and the ridiculous hat made your laughter all the sweeter.
You kept your eyes locked with his as you tugged on his belt buckle, pushing it open and pulling his pants down. He pulled away and finished undressing. Standing there in just a santa hat, his broad chest rising and falling, the glow from the lights dancing across his skin.
"Dear Santa," you began, biting your bottom lip. "I've been a very good girl."
"And what is it that you want for Christmas?" He asked, a hint of mischief in his eyes.
"You."
Elijah grinned, his dark eyes raking over your body, and leaned down to kiss you again. Your hands ran up his arms, across his shoulders, and down his chest.
You could feel his hands moving up and down your sides. Every so often his fingers would dig into your skin, reminding you of his strength. You arched your back as he slid his hands down and pulled your hips toward him, his touch igniting a trail of heat.
"You look so sexy in these stockings." He groaned.
"They're elf stockings."
"Sexiest fucking elf I've ever seen." He whispered before kissing down your neck again.
"I love when you swear."
Elijah chuckled against your neck, the sound vibrating against your skin, and then bit down. You yelped and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him close. He sucked the spot where his teeth had just been, soothing the ache.
Then, his hand ran down your stomach and between your legs. Slowly, his fingers moved up and down. Teasing you, drawing out little whimpers. The ache inside you grew unbearable, every stroke of his fingers leaving you trembling.
You were already wet. You had been anticipating his touch for too long. But, as usual, he liked to tease you. It was his way of getting even.
But tonight wasn't about you, it was about him. So, you pulled his hand away and brought it up to your mouth. You made sure his eyes were on yours as you licked his fingers.
You were delighted when you heard his sharp intake of breath and felt his grip on your thigh tighten. You wrapped your lips around his fingers and sucked a little harder, swirling your tongue just the way you knew he enjoyed. The low groan that escaped his lips sent a shiver down your spine.
He watched as you swirled your tongue around his finger and then released him with a soft pop.
"Lay back," you whispered, your voice soft but commanding.
Elijah smirked, his eyes dark with desire, and did as you told him. While you leaned over him, there was a fleeting moment where you simply admired him. His chest rose and fell in anticipation, and his dark eyes were locked on you like you were the only thing that mattered. His vulnerability, his strength, the unwavering love in his eyes. You wanted to give him more than pleasure. You wanted him to feel adored.
You kissed his neck, nipped at his skin, your lips lingered at the hollow of his throat, savoring the slight hitch in his breath before trailing lower. Your lips brushed across his chest, leaving soft kisses in your wake, moving down to his stomach.
His fingers threaded into your hair, his other hand gripped the sheets tightly. The faint tremor in his grip told you how much he was holding back, letting you take control. You kissed his hips, and then ran your tongue along the crease where his thigh met his hip. His breathing grew heavier, and the muscles in his arms tensed.
You licked the underside of his length and looked up at him. He was watching you intently, his pupils dilated, the intensity in his gaze making your skin flush.
Your tongue ran across the tip of his cock, tasting him. Then you wrapped your lips around the tip and swirled your tongue. His hands gripped your hair, holding you there, the gentle tension making your scalp tingle.
You sucked on the tip of his cock and slowly took more of him into your mouth, your tongue flat against the underside of his length.
He let out a soft moan as you took more and more of him. Each sound he made sent a spark of heat through you, fueling your movements. When he reached the back of your throat, you hummed, enjoying the way his grip on your hair tightened and his breathing picked up.
You bobbed up and down his length, using your hand and your mouth to give him as much pleasure as possible. His hand was still wrapped in your hair, gently guiding you. His moans encouraged you to go faster. To take him deeper.
You felt his cock twitch in your mouth and his grip on your hair tighten. You knew that meant he was close, so you slowed down. You wanted to drag it out. Make him desperate.
"Fuck," he groaned, his head falling back onto the pillow, the santa hat slipping off his head.
You continued to suck his cock. Slowly. Savoring the weight of him on your tongue. Enjoying the way he tasted. Enjoying the way he clung to the sheets, his muscles tensing. You enjoyed the noises he made. Soft moans. Groans. Begging. He wasn’t just beautiful. He was utterly undone beneath you.
You knew he was trying to hold back, always the gentleman. But tonight, you didn’t want him to be the gentleman. Tonight, you wanted him to be greedy.
So you pushed his cock all the way to the back of your throat and hummed. You felt his body tense up, his hand gripping your hair. His breathing was ragged, and his hips bucked. And he finally let himself go.
His cum filled the back of your throat. You swallowed every last drop, the salty warmth making you hum with satisfaction. You licked his length, making sure to clean up any excess. You pressed one last kiss against the tip of his cock and pulled away, your lips tingling as you smiled.
His chest was heaving, his eyes closed. His features softened, completely at peace. You could tell he was enjoying the post-orgasm bliss. You smiled, feeling rather pleased with yourself. You did a damn good job.
But, the night wasn’t over yet.
You gently crawled on top of him, straddling his hips. Your hands pressed into his chest, feeling the rapid thrum of his heartbeat, and his eyes fluttered open.
"Mmm," he hummed, his voice low and velvety.
"May I sit on your lap, Santa?" you teased, biting your lip.
He let out a soft laugh, his chest rumbling as he nodded. Then his hands moved to your thighs, his fingers running across the lace and silk stockings. You grabbed the fallen santa hat and placed it back on his head. Then you reached down and placed his hands on your ass.
"Santa needs to fill this naughty elf’s stocking," you teased, running your hands over his chest.
He squeezed your ass, his dark eyes glittering. "Oh, I’ll fill your stocking. I’ll make sure it’s stuffed."
You giggled, leaning down to kiss him. Your breasts pressed against his chest, and you could feel his cock pressing against your stomach, his arousal already returning.
You reached between your bodies, guiding him to your entrance. The head of his cock nudged against you, slick and hot, as you slowly sank onto him. The stretch was exquisite, a perfect mix of pleasure and pressure as he filled you completely. You gasped against his lips, his breath hitching at the feeling of you enveloping him. His hands gripped your hips firmly, his fingers digging in just enough to steady you as you adjusted, your bodies perfectly aligned.
Slowly, you began to rock back and forth, letting him slide in and out. Your hands pressed against his chest for leverage, his skin warm beneath your fingers.
You were already so turned on from earlier, that it didn't take long for your body to respond. His hands ran up and down your back, encouraging you.
"That's it. Good elf," he praised.
You let out a breathless laugh, tilting your head back and letting his cock slide in and out of you. You picked up the pace, riding him harder. Your hips rolled and his hands gripped your waist.
You could feel the pressure building in the pit of your stomach. He was so deep, filling you up perfectly. His hands held you tight, and his eyes locked with yours. You took one of his hands and placed it on your throat, encouraging him to hold you there.
His hand pressed against your throat, gently squeezing. Not enough to hurt, just enough to add a new sensation. Your mouth opened, a soft gasp escaped.
He smiled at you, his eyes hooded, and his hair messy. The santa hat was barely hanging on. You felt yourself get wetter. The sight of him underneath you, the feel of his cock inside you, the pressure of his hand on your throat, it was all too much.
The orgasm tore through your body, waves of pleasure washed over you. Your nails dug into his chest as your back arched. Your eyes closed, and you cried out his name.
Elijah's hands held you in place, keeping you steady as your body shuddered. He whispered words of praise and encouragement. He told you how beautiful you were, how amazing you felt. His voice was like velvet.
When the orgasm subsided, you slumped against his chest. Your breathing was heavy, and your body was warm.
Elijah pressed a kiss against your forehead and then rolled over, placing you on the bed beneath him. The santa hat long gone.
He hooked one of your legs around his hips, feeling the stocking against his skin. You were so pretty, your cheeks flushed, your eyes sparkling, and a smile on your lips.
He took your hands, intertwining his fingers with yours, and then pressed them against the bed. Slowly, he eased himself back inside of you. Your body was sensitive and still buzzing from the orgasm. So he took his time, making sure you were enjoying yourself as much as he was.
His hips began to move. Slow, sensual, deep thrusts. His lips brushed across your neck, you could feel his fangs against your skin. But he didn't bite. Instead, he left a trail of kisses along your jugular. You knew he wanted to sink his teeth into your neck. But he wouldn't. Not until you told him it was okay.
Your eyes met, and you tilted your head back. You pressed a finger against your neck, an invitation.
"Go on," you whispered.
His eyes darkened, his teeth grazed the skin of your neck. Your breath caught in your throat as his lips moved to the spot on your neck where your pulse was the strongest.
There was a brief moment of pain. A pinch. Then, your entire body filled with euphoria. He held you like you were glass, so careful and precise.
With each sip, your body responded. Your hips rolled. Your toes curled. You let out a soft moan. His hips were still moving in a perfect rhythm, his cock hitting the sweet spot deep inside you.
Elijah's hand slid between your bodies and found your clit. He began to circle it with his fingers, applying the right amount of pressure.
You felt your muscles tense, your back arch, and another orgasm build. It was stronger this time. The pressure coiled tighter, and you let yourself fall into it completely. Your eyes rolled, and your legs trembled.
The room was filled with moans, groans, and gasps. Skin against skin. The two of you chasing bliss.
And then, everything came to a crescendo. Your entire body lit up, the pleasure so intense it bordered on overwhelming. Your vision blurred, and your ears rang. Pleasure coursed through every fiber of your being. Your body was shivering. Your nails dug into his skin, leaving marks.
He drank deeply, tasting the euphoria in your blood. His own orgasm followed soon after. He came hard, his body shuddering.
When his teeth left your neck, he ran his tongue over the wound. Closing it up and soothing the ache. Then, he kissed the spot, his lips lingering.
You laid there, breathless. Your chest heaving, the santa hat was somehow underneath you, and your stockings were a mess, torn and twisted on your thighs.
He rolled off of you, staring at the ceiling with a stupid grin on his face.
"You’ve definitely been very good this year," he said softly.
For the first time in weeks, he truly seemed at ease. The lines of stress that creased his face were replaced with a contented glow. The sight filled you with pride.
You smiled, getting off the bed and handing him the bottle of whiskey. He sat up, his chest glistening with sweat, and opened the bottle. He took a big swig, his eyes roaming over your naked body.
"What?" you teased, raising an eyebrow.
He put the bottle down and grabbed your hips, pulling you onto his lap. "I'm afraid I'll have to keep you."
You giggled, grabbing the santa hat and putting it back on his head. Then you wrapped your arms around his neck as you pressed your forehead to his. "I think I’d be okay with that."
For a moment, the two of you sat there in comfortable silence. His hands rested on your hips, thumbs idly stroking your skin as he leaned back, taking in your presence. "You’ve given me a lot of gifts over the years, but this might just be the best one yet."
"You deserve it," you said softly, running your fingers through his dark hair. "You give so much to everyone else. You deserve to have someone give back to you for a change."
His grip tightened slightly, his dark eyes locking onto yours. "I don’t think you realize just how much you mean to me." His voice was low, steady, filled with an intimacy that made your chest tighten.
You kissed him gently, savoring the moment. "I love you, Elijah."
"I love you, too," he murmured against your lips.
The warmth of the room seemed to wrap around the two of you as he shifted, pulling a blanket over your shoulders. "Now, I think santa’s elf needs some rest before I keep her up all night," he teased, his signature smirk returning.
You laughed, nestling closer to him as you rested your head on his chest. The faint scent of whiskey lingered as his hand traced lazy patterns along your back.
The world outside faded. No more stress, no errands, no responsibilities. For tonight, it was just the two of you, wrapped in the glow of candlelight and the quiet hum of contentment.
"Merry Christmas, my love," he whispered.
You smiled against his skin, closing your eyes. "Merry Christmas, Elijah."
#elijah mikaelson#the originals#christmas#the vampire diaries#vampire diaries#tvdu#elijah mikaelson smut#elijah mikaelson imagine#elijah mikealson imagine#elijah mikealson#elijah mikaelson x reader#elijah mikealson x reader#tvd#the vampire diaries x you#the vampire diaries x reader#the vampire diares imagine#the vampire diaries imagine#the originals imagine#elijah mikealson smut
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like a siren - park sunghoon (TEASER.)
warnings: mdni, stalking, sunghoon is very toxic, gaslighting, p in v, unprotected sex, dry humping... adding more as i write... notes: soo i wrote this for mingi long ago but never finished it. this lowk seems perfect for sunghoon, i hope you guys will like it! i srsly dont know what to add in the warnings ;- ; i'll try to get it out by first week of jan. also "hold me tight" will be coming wayy later becuz i STRUGGLE with angst sm :/ divider credits to: @kodaswrld. est. word count: 6-7k+ (HOPEFULLY!!)
Sunghoon was everything you could have hoped for—sweet, charming, and attentive. He listened to your stories with genuine interest, and his eyes lit up when he talked about his passions. It didn’t take long for the two of you to start seeing each other regularly. The online dates turned into weekend brunches, long walks in the park, and movie nights that stretched into the early morning hours. He was your rock, your escape from the harsh reality of the world, a place where you felt truly safe.
A few months into your relationship, you start noticing unsettling events; Unexplained gifts appearing at her doorstep. Your social media accounts being strangely active when you aren’t not using them. A sense of being watched, a constant feeling of unease.
The incidents become more frequent and intrusive. Finding notes or small objects left in unexpected places. Discovering someone has been in your apartment while you were away. Receiving disturbing messages or phone calls, though the caller hangs up.
Amidst the fear and confusion, you find comfort in Sunghoon. He's the one person you feel you can trust, someone who seems genuinely concerned for your safety. Sunghoon offers to help you feel safe. He suggests you move in with him temporarily, emphasizing his ability to protect you. You, desperate for a sense of security and feeling increasingly isolated, accepts Sunghoon's offer. You believed you’d found refuge with the one person you thought you could trust.
Once you moved in with Sunghoon, you begin to realize something is deeply wrong, but by this point, you are trapped in a cycle of fear and dependence.
-----
(OPEN!) taglist:
#sunghoon smut#sunghoon hard hours#enhypen smut#enha smut#enhypen hard thoughts#enhypen hard hours#enha hard hours#enha hard thoughts
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Our Merry Eternity
And she swears that every Christmas season, it feels like they fall deeper and deeper in love with each other.
(In which a writer would like to argue that a day after Christmas, is a perfectly reasonable time to release a Christmas fic)
Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd
Themes: Fluff, fluff, fluff with some hurt/comfort and angst if you squint
Words: 9.4K (if I could write things shorter maybe y'all would get things faster but alas)
TW: Implied sexual content/suggestive content, mentions of divorce, mentions of injuries, swearing
A/N: MERRY (one day after) CHRISTMAS MY LOVIES <3 It seems like everyone wanted domestic fluff and who am I to deny the people what they want (even if it is a little later than I intended it to be) and I didn't realize how much I missed eternity-verse till I wrote this. I'mma keep this short and sweet and go through the basics. Such as the fact that I did not edit. I eventually will but for now, feel free to let me know about any grammar/spelling/formatting issues. And even though I haven't had the time to go through my inbox in a hot second, I promise I will soon so as always, let me know what you liked, what you didn't and what you'd like to see in the future. Have a lovely rest of your holidays my angels <3
It’s beginning (to look a lot like Christmas)
Paige isn’t the biggest fan of Christmas; she doesn’t dislike it by any means but she’s never understood the fascination everyone else seems to have with it. Perhaps it’s because when she was younger, Christmas had been her parents’ favorite holiday to try and one-up each other. They’d competed in everything, from how big the tree was to how evenly spread the icing on the cookies were. Eventually the excitement of getting a big expensive present from one parent that would only be rivaled by an even bigger, more expensive present from the other wore off and all that was left was this hollow feeling of being torn in two. Her parents have matured now -no longer in a constant battle for her approval now that they had other kids to focus on as well- but the magic of Christmas had long worn off and Paige hadn’t bothered trying to rediscover it.
Until now.
Because right now, watching -through a facetime call that’s been running for almost four hours now- Azzi run around Walmart, searching for decorations and presents with her exasperated family in tow, almost feels a little magical. The way the younger girl’s eyes twinkle when she finds the perfect gift, the way her dimples deepen when she triumphantly wins an argument against her mother for an ornament her tree needs, makes Paige think that it would be so easy to fall in love with Christmas, if she got to spend it with Azzi.
And it’s like Azzi’s reading her mind because suddenly the younger girl’s face is filling all of Paige’s screen as she holds the phone close to her face, lips pouting in a way that has the blonde feelings decidedly unfriendly feelings toward a girl she’s barely known for six months, but feels like a best friend she’s known all her life.
“I wish we could spend Christmas together,” Azzi says with a slight whine, “and then you could help me with all of this. They’re absolutely no help-” her last sentence is cut off by her family and Paige laughs as the Fudds break out into a series of indignant protests.
“Oh so you just want me for manual labor or something huh?” Paige teases, leaning back against her bed and folding her arms across her chest, “and here I thought it’s cause you missed me.”
“I do miss you,” Azzi says matter-of-factly.
“Nah,” Paige shakes her head, “sounds like you just need another person to slave around for you.”
Azzi's mouth falls open at the accusation as the Fudds break into laughter behind her, the sound of it making something impossibly warm bloom in Paige’s chest.
“I do not make people slave around for me.”
“Yeah you do. You’re the princess. You order us around and we do as we’re told.”
“Here, here-ow!” Jon’s noise of agreement is cut off by his sister elbowing him in the stomach, “do all that work and get rewarded by violence too.”
“I tell you I miss you and this is how you repay me?” Azzi asks, her voice tinged with drama.
“Nah I still don’t believe you miss me,” it’s a lie; Paige is fully aware Azzi misses her -thinks that the younger girl has to feel at least a semblance of the emptiness she feels herself at the distance between them- but she likes making Azzi repeat it; likes the constant confirmation that Azzi misses her too.
“Of course I miss you P, after all,” Azzi’s eyes glint with mischief, “we’re engaged aren’t we? A girl’s gotta miss her fiancé.”
The cavalier use of the tone of endearment makes Paige freeze. It’s a joke; a callback to the fact that Paige had practically threatened Azzi that she’d have to marry her if the younger girl won their little pop-a-shot competition last summer at the Minnesota State fair. Paige hadn’t been thinking, it had just slipped out but then Azzi had won the game and then there were rings being exchanged and somehow the whole thing had become one big running joke between the two of them. Except, the idea of forever with Azzi doesn’t feel much like a joke to Paige. It feels like a wish, a hope, a want, a need something she’s not quite ready to admit to herself yet.
“I miss you too Az,” Paige says softly as they grin at each other through the phone, “can’t wait to see my best friend soon.”
Thirteen days to be exact -they’d planned to spend the last half of winter break together- but it’s not like Paige is crossing the days off of her calendar or anything.
“Fiancé,” Azzi corrects and Paige’s heart flutters despite her brain trying to remind her that this is just a bit they’re playing at.
“Right, so fiancé,” the word tastes like sugar cookies and marshmallows on the tip of her tongue, “you get my present yet?”
“You know I have and before you ask,” Azzi gives her a knowing look when Paige excitedly opens her mouth, “no I won’t give you a hint about what it is.”
“But Azziiiiiii-”
“Absolutely not Paige,” Azzi says firmly, “presents are meant to be surprises.”
“Aren’t fiancés meant to tell each other everything?” Paige scrunches her nose.
“Not this. Christmas presents are a sacred secret,” the younger girl replies gravely.
“And who made you an expert on all things Christmas presents?”
“Santa did,” Azzi retorts haughtily.
Paige snorts, “well Santa doesn’t ex-”
“PAIGE MADISON BUECKERS,” Azzi yells and the blonde can tell by the way she winces immediately that the younger girl’s little outburst had gotten her more than a couple of wary looks, “Paige Madison Bueckers,” she hisses again, her voice much quieter this time, “you take that back right now!”
“Az-”
“Take it back!”
“Bro you’re fifteen years old,” Paige argues.
“Believing has no age,” Azzi hums airily, “now take it back.”
“Nope!”
“Take it back or I’ll end our engagement,” Azzi threatens and Paige blanches at ultimatum.
“You wouldn’t,” she gasps.
“Try me.”
Paige is sixteen and she’s only really just started to learn what love is, but she thinks, as she sits on her bed bickering on facetime over the most ridiculous of topics with a girl who makes her feel things she’s never felt before, that maybe love is just something as simple and crazy as pretending admitting Santa is real so she can prevent her fake engagement, that’s almost beginning to feel a little much like a real promise, from being called off.
2. With you (under the mistletoe)
The truth is that neither of them quite remember what started the fight or even really why it had continued after. All they know is that one minute everything had been fine and then the next minute, they were fuming at each other and their plane ride back to the DMV for Christmas had passed in uncharacteristic silence. They'd parted ways at the airport -glumly sauntering over to their waiting families while decidedly avoiding looking over in each other’s directions- with a dreadful mixture of regret, guilt and the feeling of missing each other. But despite the fact that they were both clearly miserable, Paige and Azzi were both too stubborn and too eager to prove which one of them could be more stubborn. This was their first true fight after they’d gotten together earlier this year, and they were both adamant that the other one would apologize first.
But Azzi can feel the urge to cave in grow stronger and stronger by the minute as she feels Paige’s body against her own as the blonde reaches over the younger girl to grab something from the shelf. The contact is unnecessary and she knows Paige is doing it on purpose, trying to get a reaction and it takes every inch of self-control Azzi has to not shiver as the older girl presses herself against her back, acting like whatever she’s grabbing isn’t right at the front of the shelf. Azzi tries to focus on the cookies she’s icing, tries to keep her hands still as she traces the outline of a star in royal icing, tries to do anything but focus on the way Paige’s warm breath is tickling against the back of her neck.
It’s two days till Christmas and the Fudd family and friends have gathered to do their annual cookie baking and decorating tradition. And Katie had been clear that no matter what issues Paige and Azzi were having, they wouldn’t interfere with the open invitation that Paige had always had -since she’d moved to the DMV but even before that really- to join them throughout the Christmas festivities. Azzi had pretended to be a little miffed by it but secretly she’d been hoping that her girlfriend -god she still got such a thrill out of being able to call her that- would show up. They’d only really been apart for a day, but since they’d met, Paige and Azzi hadn’t gone often without talking to each other -whether it was in person or through text or on the phone- and so 24 hours had felt a little bit like 24 years and Azzi had spent every second missing the girl who’d long since become a part of her soul. And even though Paige had grunted about only being here for Drew’s sake, Azzi knows -by the way the blonde’s eyes had drunk in the sight of her when she’d let her into the house, by the way her stiff shoulders had relaxed just by being near her again- that Paige had missed her just as much.
But neither of them are quite ready to admit it yet, and so, as they bustle around the confined space of the Fudd’s kitchen, Paige continues to find ways to light Azzi’s skin on fire and Azzi continues to pretend it isn’t making her burn with want.
“Noooooooo,” a drawled out whine from the kitchen table has Azzi and Paige jumping away from each other as they both turn to look at Drew.
Azzi’s eyes widen and Paige bursts into laughter as they take in the scene in front of them. Clearly the little boy had overestimated his strength and the piping bag had burst and now Drew stands by the table, his lips slightly parted in shock, as the red icing -originally intended for the Santa hat cookies- drips down the front of his shirt. Jon and José are doubled down in their chairs, tears practically streaming down their faces as the sound of their laughter echoes through the walls.
“Oh my god,” Paige manages to get out between her giggles, “what did you do Drewskie.”
“Nothing,” her little brother immediately defends himself, “it literally burst out of nowhere.”
“Sure it did little Hulk, sure it did,” José teases as he swipes his finger over Drew’s ruined shirt and then licks the icing off of it, the casualness of it causing Jon and Paige to burst into another round of laughter while Azzi tries as hard as she can to keep her own giggles contained but a smile slips through the cracks.
“It’s not funny,” Drew stomps his feet petulantly, “I’m all sticky and icky and gross. Azzi,” he looks at the brunette with imploring eyes, “tell them to stop- OH MY GOD ARE YOU LAUGHING AT ME TOO.”
Azzi's eyes widen as she tries to protest, “no of course not. C’mon let’s get you a new-”
But before she can put her plan into action, clearly Drew has a different idea and before Azzi can stop it from happening, the little boy is grabbing another piping bag -this one with green icing- and aiming it straight at Jose. There’s a split second of silence as the green icing arcs through the air, almost in slow motion, before landing with a splat on Jose’s newly bought t-shirt. And then the room bursts into chaos as Drew immediately dives behind Azzi’s legs, Paige and Jon continue to lose their minds laughing and José lets out a loud scream.
“WHAT THE FU-”
“José language,” both Paige and Azzi reprimand immediately and José glares at them but corrects himself anyways.
“What the fudge dude,” José scowls at Drew, “this is a brand new shirt.”
For his part, the little boy shrugs, “I thought you liked eating icing off of shirts. I figured I’d make it easier and let you eat it off of your own shirt.
If it’s possible this somehow makes Jon and Paige laugh harder and instead of focusing his wrath on Drew who’s still nestled behind Azzi’s legs, José turns on the two of them instead.
“You guys think this is SO funny don’t you,” he says menacingly, grabbing for two more piping bags.
“José no,” Paige is the first one to recover as she tries to turn away from the mess but it’s too late, and just as she’s trying to bolt out the door, she’s stopped by a glob of pink icing landing with a splat on the back of her plain white shirt.
“Oh you’re so dead,” Paige whispers angrily as she turns around, grabbing another bag of icing and aiming it directly at José’s face.
And then there’s no stopping anyone as Azzi watches as all the beautiful icing she’d painstakingly made and dyed into different colors begins to be thrown all over the kitchen, a rainbow painting itself all over the walls and floors. Drew darts out from behind her legs, joining into the mayhem as he starts to pelt Jon with all sorts of colors.
Seeing them all distracted and knowing it’s only a matter of time before she gets sucked into all of it, Azzi slowly tiptoes backwards, wanting nothing to do with the mess, and she’s just about to turn around and run up the stairs when a low voice echoes behind her.
“And where do you think you’re going,” because of course Paige had noticed her trying to escape; Paige always noticed when it came to Azzi.
“Paige,” Azzi warns slowly, trying to move away from the other girl, her eyes fixated on the purple icing in the blonde’s hands, “please.”
Paige smirks as she takes another step towards Azzi, “this is a little unfair isn’t it?”
“Hey I didn’t start any of this,” Azzi puts her hands up in surrender, choosing to back away from the stairs and towards the living room instead, “go fight the people who did.”
Paige shakes her head as she takes another step, “I already got ‘em all. Amateurs,” she says cockily, “they think they can beat me in a food fight.”
Azzi rolls her eyes, “is there anything you’re not arrogant about?”
“Can’t help that I’m good at everything,” Paige shrugs and Azzi’s about to come up with a snarky retort when the blonde’s eyes soften, “except I guess- I guess I’m not too great at apologizing.”
Gone is the air of overconfidence that had surrounded the older girl just a second before and in her place is that soft, vulnerable Paige that Azzi is so desperately in love with and she can’t help but take a step towards the blonde.
“We should both probably apologize huh,” she says quietly, “think we both said some petty shit we didn’t mean.”
It’s true; they’d known each other so long and so deeply that they knew exactly how to push each other’s buttons, how to say the exact wrong thing to rile each other up when they were frustrated. The fight had been inevitable; an explosion of all the angst that existed between two athletes who were both fighting injuries and watching their team struggle without them. It had started with something little that Azzi can’t quite remember but then they were yelling about other things -Paige’s grievances about how Azzi had an irritating habit of hovering and Azzi’s issues with Paige’s tendency to close herself off- and it had ended with both of them near tears as they’d frustratedly stomped into their rooms.
“I’m sorry,” Paige says it first, as she loops her arm around Azzi’s waist, bringing the younger girl as close to her as she can, “I love you. I miss you.”
Azzi smiles, her hands finding their rightful place around Paige’s neck, not caring that the other girl is still covered in sticky icing, “don’t gotta miss me baby. I’m right here,” she says softly, resting her forehead against the blonde’s, “I’m sorry too. I love you so much.”
“Look up,” Paige says softly, as she strokes Azzi’s cheek and the younger girl does as she’s told, laughing when she notices the mistletoe hanging above them.
“Kissing under the mistletoe? You’re so cliché Bueckers.”
“Clichés are clichés for a reason Az,” Paige hums faintly before she’s pulling Azzi into a searing kiss, holding her as tightly as she physically can.
And yet Azzi still finds a way to tug her closer, trying to find a way to meld their bodies into one as she presses herself as close to Paige as possible. She’s just about to suggest they take this upstairs -because god has she missed being with Paige- when instead she feels the older girl pull away and before she can even react, she’s being hit in the face with a stream of bright purple icing.
“PAIGE WHAT THE FUCK,”
“Sorry baby. Just couldn’t help myself,” Paige grins as she steps back into Azzi’s space, gently attaching her lips to Azzi’s cheeks as her tongue languidly licks away at the icing and this time the younger girl doesn’t even try to hide the way her body reacts to it, “I promise I’ll clean you up though.”
3. I’ll be home (for Christmas)
“I’m good I swear,” Azzi’s voice is raw and hoarse like it often gets when she’s been crying and despite the younger girl’s best efforts to put on a brave front, Paige can hear right through it.
She cocks an eyebrow, shifting from her back onto her elbows and placing her phone -with the facetime call- against the headboard, “then why won’t you let me see your face?”
“It’s not me. Something’s up with my camera. I don’t know what,” and if it was anyone else, even someone else who also knew that Azzi had literally just gotten a new phone, maybe the attempted sincerity in the brunette’s voice would be enough to convince them that she was telling the truth.
But Paige has every line of the Azzi Fudd façade memorized, knows exactly how to discern the little cadences in her girlfriend’s voice and read between the lines. She knows Azzi’s purposely refusing to show her face; knows that it’s probably because it would take Paige one glance at said beautiful, gorgeous, stunning face to know that there had been tears running down it just a little bit ago.
The blonde sighs, choosing to let the lie go and instead focus on the precious few minutes she’s got to speak to her girlfriend in peace. This is the first time Paige and Azzi have truly been apart for an extended amount of time since the latter had gotten to UConn and somehow the past few weeks have felt worse than when they’d spent months and months apart. With Paige trying to lead an injury-riddled team and Azzi rehabbing another torn ACL, the opportunities to indulge in a proper facetimes call had been few and far between. And when they did finally find the team, it wasn’t just that they were physically tired; they were both emotionally drained too. It was hard recharging when their batteries -each other- were so far away and every call felt hollow; like something was missing.
“I miss you,” Paige says finally, feet digging into her bed as she musters up a soft smile, wishing that she could see Azzi return it with one of her own instead of staring at a black screen with only her own face in the corner.
“Tell me something I don’t know,” the younger girl says lightly and something uncomfortable churns in Paige’s stomach.
“You uh- you haven’t said it back in a while,” she says slowly, trying to keep her voice casual.
“Said what?”
Paige gulps, “that you miss me,” she gives Azzi a second to respond before her nerves have her speaking a mile per minute, “I mean not that you- not that you have to say it back or anything it’s just- you usually do- or like you always did and you just- you just haven’t said it back. And I mean I don’t say I miss you just so you’ll say it back or anything. I mean I do- you know- miss you and so that why I say it- because- because I miss you- I miss you so fucking much baby and I just- I just want you to know that but you haven’t- you haven’t said it back in a little bit and I just- Azzi,” her voice cracks as she tries not to let the tears slip through, “you do miss me don’t you?”
The other girl is quiet for so long that Paige thinks maybe she’s said too much; her mind rushes to the worst possibilities because what if Azzi really doesn’t miss her? What if her insecurities are right and the time apart has made Azzi realize that she wants something other than Paige?
“Of course I miss you Paige,” Azzi’s voice is thick with tears and all of Paige’s previous fears are replaced with worry instead, “god baby I miss you so fucking much. I miss you all the time and I’m sorry, fuck Paige, I’m sorry if I ever made you think I didn’t but baby- I-,” she’s heaving through her tears and Paige wishes she was with her; wishes she could wipe away her tears and hold her forever.
“Azzi-”
“I haven’t been saying it back because- because-” Azzi pushes on, still struggling to speak but determined to say her piece, “I can’t okay? I can’t keep saying it Paige- I can’t keep telling you I miss you and hearing that you miss me when we can’t do anything about it. And I get it- okay- I get it. I get that you have to be with the team and I have to be here and do my rehab and we can’t- we can’t be together right but fuck- I hate it. I hate it so much.”
“Azzi,” Paige says again helplessly.
She hates it too; hates that it’s so close to Christmas, so close to Azzi’s favorite holiday and her girlfriend is sobbing.
“Shit. I’m being a terrible girlfriend aren’t I? You have a game in a couple of hours and here I am being a fucking selfish wet wipe instead of wishing you luck. Fucking hell,” Azzi curses and Paige can picture her frantically pulling herself together as she tries to change her tone.
“You could never be a terrible girlfriend,” Paige reassures softly.
Azzi ignores her, “besides, we’ll see each other soon right? You’re gonna fly home from Toronto to Connecticut tomorrow and then come home to me after right? Just a couple more days,” and it sounds like she’s saying it more to herself than Paige, “just a few more days- few more hours really. We can do this.”
“Yeah,” Paige agrees but she can’t help but feel like even that’s too long and there’s a plan starting to form in her mind; a good use of all that NIL money she’s been earning.
“I love you P,” Azzi says softly, and despite the heaviness from before, Paige can hear the smile in her voice, “see you soon baby.”
“I love you too Az. I’ll be home soon,” Paige replies, a large grin settling onto her face as she gets ready to bring her idea to fruition; knowing that for now, their soons don’t quite mean the same thing.
***
Azzi thinks her parents and brother must have the patience of a saint. She’s acutely aware that she’s been a miserable grinch to be around; either ignoring them or answering them with tight one-word sentences. Since she’d come down to Virginia for her rehab, she’s kept herself holed down in her room, only coming out when absolutely necessary. The worst part of it, is that it’s her favorite time of the year and Azzi’s barely participated in all the little Christmas traditions -half of which had really been created by her- that she’d normally be excited to indulge in.
She sighs, burrowing herself further into her pillows to block out the chatter of her family upstairs. In a couple of minutes, she’s sure one of them will come rushing downstairs, pleading for her to come join them as they make Christmas themed pancakes. And she’ll refuse -just as she has with every other fun little activity- and all though whoever’s been tasked with getting her out of her cave will persist a little longer, eventually they’ll give up, that awful look, tinged in both disappointment and pity, on their face as they go back upstairs with a promise to bring her a plate in a little bit. It’s a terrible routine that’s been on rinse and repeat and Azzi thinks she’d really like to break herself out of it, but it feels like she’s drowning in it instead, and there’s not a lifeboat in sight to pull her out of her misery.
Turning on her side, Azzi reaches for her phone, flipping to Paige’s contact and her heart aches from their last conversation last night. God she’d been so selfish, venting like that knowing her girlfriend had a game in a couple of hours; knowing how stressful each game -no matter how easy the opponent- was with an injury-riddled team. But Paige had sounded so miserable when asking if Azzi still missed her that in a way it had been infectious and suddenly Azzi found herself letting her own hurt waterfall out of her lips.
She scrunches her nose, eyebrows crinkling in confusion when she realizes that the last text she’d sent Paige before going to sleep -a simple you did really good today baby, i’m proud of you right after the game- had gone unanswered. Azzi frowns, looking down at her phone as if her staring harder at it might just conjure up a message from her girlfriend. She’d fallen asleep almost right after sending it and it was unlike Paige to not have answered her by the time she woke up. Azzi rattles her brain, trying to remember if the blonde had mentioned any other plans -beyond a dinner with Aaliyah’s parents that wouldn’t have kept her from her phone- but she can’t remember anything. Briefly glancing at the time and knowing that Paige’s flight to Connectcut wasn’t supposed to leave for at least another three hours, Azzi hastily texts her girlfriend again, crossing her fingers behind her back in anticipation of a quick reply.
Good morning Paigey <3
She gives it exactly three minutes, stomach churning when she doesn’t get a reply.
I miss you baby.
Another four minutes and still no reply and Azzi starts to feel her head getting heavy with that familiar weight of over thinking. What if she’d overstepped last night? What if it was too much? What if Paige had decided that she couldn’t deal with Azzi and her crap anymore?
She can hear someone starting to hurry down the steps, the quickness making her think it’s probably one of her brother’s who’s been tasked with getting her out of her room this time. But Azzi keeps her focus on her phone, ready to reject whatever offer is about to be made. The door creaks open and she doesn’t look up, typing another message instead.
I love you Paige.
“I love you too Azzi.”
Azzi freezes at the sound of the oh so familiar voice, her gaze moving from her phone to the doorway in slow-motion. She blinks in disbelief, mouth falling open as she stares at the figure in her doorway, taking in the sight of a disheveled blonde ponytail, the custom UConn sweats draped on a body that’s radiating exhaustion but more than anything her eyes fixates on that smile, the one that’s always been just for her.
“Paige,” she breathes out slowly, almost as if she’s scared that saying it will make the girl in front of her disappear like a dream.
“Hi baby,” Paige says softly, casually pointing to her phone, “I got your message.”
“You’re here,” Azzi chokes out and then, louder, “you’re here oh my god, you’re really here,” she repeats, rushing to get out of bed, desperate to wrap her arms around Paige, to hold her and be held in return.
“Hey, hey, hey wait baby careful,” Paige chides, her focus immediately on Azzi’s knee, “stay where you are-”
“What? Why?” Azzi pouts and that elicits a little laugh from Paige as she walks over to the brunette.
“Because,” the older girl says quietly, as she crawls onto the bed and pulls Azzi onto her lap so the younger girl is straddling Paige’s hips, “I’m here.”
Azzi looks at her in awe, hand tracing the curves of Paige’s face like she still can’t quite believe this is real, “yeah,” she whispers, “you’re here.”
And then she’s kissing every inch of Paige’s skin that she can, memorizing the way it feels soft and smooth under her lips, trying to make up for all the lost time of the past few weeks and perhaps even for when she knows they’ll inevitably have to be separated again. Paige’s grip on her waist is tight, fingers gripping her like they’re scared to let go as she shivers under Azzi’s featherlight touch.
“I’m here,” Paige repeats again before she guides Azzi’s lips onto her own into a feverish kiss that has both of them letting out a long-kept sigh of relief.
It starts off innocent enough, the two of them savoring the moment, savoring the feeling of finally being in each other’s arms. But then Paige’s tongue is licking into Azzi’s mouth and the younger girl is grinding her hips in the way she knows will drive the blonde a little insane as Paige’s own hands find themselves roaming underneath Azzi’s pajama shirt, rubbing circles dangerously close to the edge of her sleep shorts.
“Missed you- missed you so fucking much,” Azzi babbles as Paige’s mouth moves away from her lips to trail a series of kisses down her jaw, to her neck before nipping at her collarbone.
“Me too- me fucking too,” Paige mutters between kisses as she soothes her tongue over the mark she’d just tattooed into Azzi’s skin with her teeth, eyes glazing over when it elicits a barely-concealed moan from the brunette’s lips.
“Missed this,” Azzi groans, continuing to roll her body against Paige’s, and she thinks she could fall off the edge just like this, untouched and fully clothed.
“I know, baby. I know,” Paige pants as she continues her assault on the young girl’s skin, “gonna take care of you. I swear. Gonna make up for everything tonight-”
“No now,” Azzi whines, hands tangling in Paige’s hair and pulling in a way that has the older girl groaning into the crook of her neck, “I need you now. I’ll be quiet, I swear. Paige please.”
“Fuck baby don’t say that. You know I can’t say no to you.”
“Then don’t say no to me,” Azzi responds with a smirk, one hand trailing down to gently flick against Paige’s nipples causing the blonde to let out a conflicted noise somewhere between pure arousal and reluctant protest.
“I can’t,” she says finally, resting her head against Azzi’s shoulder as she purposefully grips the younger girl’s waist to keep her still.
Azzi pouts, “why not?”
When Paige finally looks up at her, there’s a sheepish look on her face, “I made a bet with your brothers.”
“What?”
“They said they hadn’t been able to get you out of your room and I said I could do it in ten minutes and they said it would take me a lot longer,” Paige says, hands moving animatedly and Azzi can’t help the fond smile that flitters onto her face.
“So let me get this straight,” she says slowly, “we haven’t seen each other in weeks, haven’t fucked,” she purposefully grinds her hips down onto the other girl, “in weeks and you wanna delay it longer because you wanna win a bet against my brothers?”
Paige has the decency to look at least a little ashamed as she nods before giving Azzi a goofy grin, “yes? I love you?”
Azzi rolls her eyes as she slips off of Paige’s lap, already missing the warmth of being on top of the other girl, “can’t believe you’d rather win a bet than fuck me.”
“Nah,” Paige smirks as she stands up, her hands immediately inching themselves around Azzi’s waist, “I’d rather win a bet, use that money to get us a hotel tonight and then fuck you.”
“You’ve really thought this through haven’t you?” Azzi shakes her head, trying to hide her excitement at the idea of being in a hotel room -being alone, just the two of them- with Paige tonight.
“Ten steps ahead always baby,” Paige grins as she presses her lips against Azzi’s, ending it quicker than either of them would like, “now hurry up so I can win this bet.”
But Azzi doesn’t move, instead she pulls Paige back into her, resting their foreheads together as she breathes in the scent of her girlfriend.
“I’m really glad you’re home P,” she whispers and Paige smiles, gently rubbing her back, “didn’t feel like Christmas season without you.”
4. You’re all I need (underneath the tree)
Azzi’s just putting on the finishing touches to her outfit -dangly gold hoops that Paige had gotten her just because- when she feels a pair of arms wrap around her middle, a warm body being pressed against her chest. She smiles, letting herself melt into her wife’s -God she loves being able to say that- touch, leaning her head back against Paige’s shoulder.
“You look so pretty in that dress,” the older woman whispers into her ear as she runs her hands up and down the velvety red material covering Azzi’s body, “but you sure we have to go to your parents’ right now? Cause I think you’d look even better out of it.”
Azzi giggles; they’ve been together for almost nine years -known each other for even longer- and yet every time Paige gives her a compliment, she feels her insides swooning, cheeks going red like she’s still a teenager whose crush is flirting with her. And she thinks this feeling will never go away, that the halo-like glow Paige’s mere presence casts around her will never fade because this love -this all-consuming sense of you’re it for me between them- is going to last forever. She’s sure of it.
“Do you ever think of anything but sex?” Azzi rolls her eyes as she turns around in Paige’s arms, fingers immediately reaching up to fix the collar of Paige’s matching red shirt.
Paige grins, “nah cause I’m always thinking about you and so by default I’m always thinking about sex.”
“You’re insatiable,” Azzi shakes her head.
“Can you blame me when my wife looks like that?” Paige makes a show of looking up and down Azzi’s body, letting out a low appreciative whistle at the way the dress hugs her figure, the neckline dipping just low enough to stay respectable yet sexy.
“You look pretty good yourself Bueckers,” Azzi hums as she grazes her teeth lightly against Paige’s neck, making the older woman shudder.
“Careful Az,” Paige warns, the sultry lilt in her voice saying the exact opposite, “I might start getting the wrong idea.”
Azzi shrugs cheekily, “and what idea would that be?”
Paige smirks, gently tugging at Azzi’s dress to expose a shoulder before she’s attaching her lips to the newly uncovered patch of skin, “that maybe you want us to be late. Or better yet, maybe you don’t want us to go at all.”
Keening under the softness of Paige’s touch, Azzi reluctantly pushes the older woman away, and that might be worse because now she can see her eyes and the lust swimming in them makes her want to give into temptation. But they’re already running late and she has no desire to give their brother’s any teasing material, so she settles on stealing another kiss from Paige’s lips.
“Go warm up the car,” she mutters against the blonde’s lips, gently squeezing her waist before she detaches from Paige and starts to fix her dress, “I’mma just do a quick double check and then be out.”
“Yes your highness,” Paige teases with a slight roll of her eyes before she’s grabbing both her and Azzi’s packed overnight bags and heading towards the car.
Azzi smiles as she watches her go. As much as they joked about not going at all, both of them loved spending Christmas with their families, especially considering how the Fudds, Bueckers and everything in between had melded into one big one. Despite the fact that living in the DMV now meant that they saw at least someone in their family once a week, the idea of having everyone under the same roof was still thrilling nonetheless.
Life had a funny way of working out. The plan had been set in motion since Azzi had been drafted to DC and although Paige had been tempted to stay in Minnesota -after all being the hometown hero picked with the no.1 pick had served her and the. team well for her first four rookie years, considering she’d helped them return to their former championship glory- they had ultimately decided that with most of their family in the DMV area, it made more sense for Paige to ask for a trade to DC than it did for Azzi to move to Minnesota. It hadn’t been the smoothest transition -they’d had their fair share of fights while making the decision and then adjusting to it- but they’d figure it out. They always did. Because as good as Paige and Azzi were at fighting with each other, they were even better at fighting for each other.
Quickly going through the to-do-list in her brain, Azzi nods to herself as she silently checks off everything. She does a quick glance of her room, making sure that they’re not leaving anything they’d need, before reaching to grab her phone, just to text her parents that they were on their own way. Instead her eyes catch on an email notification, her heart beating erratically when she reads the name of the sender.
Fingers fidgeting with the heart necklace Paige had gotten her years ago, Azzi slowly clicks on the notification as anticipation burns throughout her whole body. She tries to steady her breathing as she scans through it, reading each line carefully and she almost drops her phone, large hot tears dripping down her cheeks as she reaches the end of it. Her chest feels heavy with an unknown feeling and she knows she needs to get to Paige, but her feet are rooted to their spot.
“Baby,” she hears her wife call out, followed by the sound of Paige’s footsteps climbing up the stairs, “you ready yet? The car’s already- oh my god baby what’s wrong?”
Azzi looks up from her phone to find Paige standing in the doorway. Concern floods the older woman’s sharp features as she rushes over to her, hands running all over Azzi’s body as she tries to figure out what’s wrong.
“Az? Baby? What’s going on? What happened,” Paige asks urgently, “baby please you’re scaring me. What’s wrong,” her eyes drop to the phone in Azzi’s hands as her voice gets desperate, “did someone say something? Do I need to go kill somebody? Fuck baby please don’t cry. Tell me what’s wrong? I swear I’ll fix it but you gotta tell me baby. Please.”
Wordlessly, Azzi hands over her phone. Paige’s expression is confused and apprehensive -maybe even a little preemptively angry- as she takes the device from her wife’s hand. Azzi watches as recognition dawn of the blonde’s face when she spots the familiar e-mail address; watches as her wife goes through the same emotions she had reading through the email. When Paige finally looks back at her, her own eyes are brimming with tears.
“Baby,” she says breathlessly, “this- I- we-,” she chokes back a sob, her voice so quiet in comparison to the loud enigma that is Paige Bueckers-Fudd, “we’re gonna be Moms?”
Azzi nods, tears continuing to spill down her cheeks as she finally manages to open her mouth, “yeah- yeah we are. Paige, we’re gonna have a baby. No two,” she corrects herself, remembering the exact words of the e-mail, “we’re gonna have two babies. Twins.”
And it’s unclear who moves first -it doesn’t really matter- but then they’re in each other’s arms, trying to hold each other as tightly as physically possible as their tears and smiles begin to blend into one. It had been a couple of months since they’d started the adoption process and they’d gone through every stage, slightly scared that something would go wrong. But they’d passed every background and family and personality check rather easily and it was this last part, the wait to hear about a child -well children- that needed them that had been the hardest of it. And now here it was, the last brushstroke that would complete the picture they’d started painting when they were fifteen. Two babies that would complete them.
“You’re gonna be such a good Mom,” Paige mutters against Azzi’s hair, “god Azzi, baby I can’t wait to see you with our babies -fuck- our babies. Fuck baby I don’t know what you got me but I’m afraid it’s gonna have to be second best Christmas present I’m getting this year.
Azzi laughs breathlessly, her face still buried in Paige’s neck, “think it’s gonna be the best Christmas present ever,” she slowly lifts her head so she can brush away the tears from under her wife’s eyes, “I love you. I wouldn’t wanna do this with anyone but you.”
Paige presses her lips against Azzi’s forehead, “me too baby. I love you so fucking much. You, me and our babies. It’s all I’m ever gonna want, all I’m ever gonna need.”
5. All I want (for Christmas is you)
There’s a lot going on in her house right now -the chatter of family and friends mingling with the sounds of Christmas Carols blaring from the speakers, the mixed aroma of a well-cooked meal and freshly baked desserts, the twinkly lights strung all around the house blinking in different colors- but Paige’s entire attention is across the room where both of her two children are hanging off of her wife like baubles on a Christmas tree. Miles is situated on her lap, his head buried in his favorite place, between Azzi’s neck and shoulder. Sienna, always slightly more independent, has one hand wrapped around her mother’s ankle while she sits on the floor, her focus squarely on a princess coloring book. It’s a sight that will never stop making Paige’s heart swell with pride and happiness, her wife with their kids.
Slowly excusing herself from the conversation she’d been having with a relative, Paige makes her way over to her family -to her whole world- with a soft smile on her face. She sits down next to her wife, placing a kiss to her temple that makes Azzi smile, before pressing one to her son’s forehead over the younger woman’s shoulder, before finally picking her daughter off the floor onto her lap and giving Sienna a kiss on her cheek.
“Hi family,” she whispers and she thinks that if she could choose to have one picture ingrained in her mind forever, it would be a picture of the three smiles she gets in return. Miles’s is sleepy yet so sincere, Sienna’s is toothy and wide and Azzi’s- we’ll Azzi’s is exactly like it’s been since they were fifteen. It’s her Paige smile, one that is bright and beautiful and magnificent and filled with the promise of i’ll love you forever.
“Mama look,” Sienna coos, shoving her picture in front of Paige’s face, “I color a p-incess.”
“It’s beautiful Si-Si,” Paige says warmly, “I think it should probably go on the fridge once everybody’s gone home yeah?”
Azzi snorts, her voice dropping so only her wife can hear, “baby, I don’t think there’s any more space left on the fridge considering you’ve been putting up every single thing they’ve ever colored or made.”
“I’ll make space,” Paige says haughtily, “everything they make is fridge-worthy.”
Azzi shakes her head fondly but Paige knows that despite her words, she’ll be right there by her side tonight to help her make space on their rather cluttered fridge so that they could hang Sienna’s new masterpiece somewhere on it.
“Mi’s close to falling asleep,” Azzi gestures to the little boy in her arms who’s clearly struggling to keep his eyes open, “I think we should probably let them open their Christmas Eve presents now.”
Despite Azzi trying to keep her tone to a whisper, Sienna’s ears perk up at the word “present” and she turns on Paige’s lap to face her Moms with large, hopeful eyes, “it’s pwesent time?”
“Yeah sweetheart. It's present time, but only one okay?” Paige taps Sienna’s nose gently, laughing when the little girl nods diligently and then squeals with excitement, rushing off of her mother’s lap so she can tell anyone within earshot that it’s time to open presents.
“I was gonna tell you to get everybody but I think she’s got it. She’s got your vocal chords for sure,” Azzi nudges Paige’s shoulder teasingly before coaxing Miles’ head out her neck, “you ready to open a present Mi?”
Miles yawns and Paige can’t help but coo at how cute he looks as he stretches in his mother’s arms. It fascinates her, how despite being twins, Miles and Sienna sometimes feel like they’re years apart. And she knows they're only 3 years old, and she knows that they’ll both change over time but Paige thinks that the difference in their personalities makes them fit together even more beautifully. Sienna had a protective streak, always ready to shield her demure brother and Miles had a knack from calming Sienna down, always ready to comfort his boisterous sister.
“MI,” Sienna yells as she tugs on her twin brother’s arm, having somehow already gathered their family into the living room, “wake up Mi. Time to open a Ch-istmas Eve pwesent.”
“I coming Si-Si,” Miles says softly as he finally waddles off of Azzi’s lap, tiredly rubbing his eyes as he follows his sister towards the barrage of Christmas presents underneath the tree. Their mothers scooch off of the couch to stand closer to the tree, Paige wrapping her arms around Azzi from behind as she hooks her chin over her wife’s shoulder.
“Alright Si-Si,” Tim says, his eyes twinkling as he looks down at his granddaughter, “remember, you should always pick the biggest present to open on Christmas Eve!”
Sienna’s eyes widen as she takes in her grandfather’s words before her gaze drifts towards the presents, scouting for the biggest one of them all. Paige drinks in the joy on her daughter’s face when she finally spots a large box that might just be taller than she is.
“That one!” Sienna says gleefully as she practically climbs over the rest of the gifts to get to her chosen one.
“Careful sweetheart,” Azzi calls out, her voice laced with hints of worry as she watches her daughter try to pick up the present that’s clearly heavier than she is.
“Uncle Drew,” Sienna croaks out, turning to Paige’s brother as she realizes just how big the present she’d chosen is, “help me pease!”
Drew laughs, wading through the sea of presents to get to his niece as he sedulously sits down to help her unwrap the gift. Paige tightens her grip around Azzi in anticipation as she watches for her daughter’s reaction. The twins are old enough this year to really understand their gifts and even though Paige is sure she knows them well enough -they’re her babies for fuck’s sake- to have gotten them present they’d love, she’s still a little scared they wouldn’t.
“Relax baby,” Azzi leans her head back to whisper into the blonde’s ear, having noticed the way Paige is fidgeting with the sleeve of the brunette’s sweater, “she’s gonna love it. She’s our daughter. We know her.”
Paige presses a delicate kiss against the back of her wife’s neck, “you always say the right thing.”
“Because I know you,” Azzi says softly, eyes crinkling in the corner as she smiles at Paige.
They’re broken out of their reverie by their daughter screaming in excitement as she finally uncovers her present -a barbie basketball court-, and just like Azzi had predicted she would, she says, “I love it, I love it, I love it. Thank you Mama, thank you Mommy!”
Paige and Azzi laugh, opening their arms in tandem for Sienna to rush into, “we’re glad you like it Si-Si.”
“I love it,” Sienna corrects as she gives each of them a sloppy kiss on the cheek.
“My turn now?” a meek voice cuts in and everyone's eyes fall onto Miles, who cowers slightly at having everyone’s attention.
“Yeah it is,” Paige grins at her son, tickling him lightly in the stomach before pushing him towards the presents, “pick whichever one you want to open Mi.”
Miles chews at his bottom lip, cautiously observing the huge pile of presents before turning to his Mothers’ with a way expression and Paige has to hide her grin, knowing exactly what he’s about to ask.
“Too many,” Miles says, bouncing nervously on his tiny little feet, “you help me pick pease Mama.”
Paige laughs as she gathers the little boy in her arms but not before she’s whispering in Azzi’s ear, “think he might be more indecisive than you baby,” which earns her a slight elbow to the stomach before she nods at her son, “of course I’ll help you pick sweetheart.”
She pretends to make a big show of searching for the right present, observing her son’s facial expression before she sees his eyes light up a little when she grabs a medium-sized blue one.
“Aha!” Paige yells triumphantly, causing all the adults in the room to snicker at her antiques, “think you should open this one Mi.”
Miles grins as he makes grabby hands towards the present in his mother’s hand. It takes him approximately four and a half seconds to rip off all the wrapping paper and his eyes marvel at the gift in his hands.
“Teddy,” Miles says in awe as he clutches the cuddly stuffed toy to his chest.
“Yeah it is baby,” Azzi nods as she kneels down next to the little boy, “here,” she points towards the blue heart on his chest, “how about you squeeze it?”
Miles does as he is told, squeezing the teddy-bear’s heart as tightly as he can and it starts to glow. Paige and Azzi’s voices ring out through the room, singing -slightly off-key- Miles’s favorite lullaby. The little boy’s eyes widen when he realizes the sound isn’t coming from his Mothers', both of whom have their mouths closed, but from the teddy-bear’s heart.
“Now, whenever you’re scared at night in your big boy bed, you can just squeeze teddy and it’ll be like Mommy and Mama are already there with you,” Azzi says softly as she brushes her hands through her son’s hair, “you like it Mi?”
“I’m gonna call it MoMa,” Miles says in lieu of an answer as he beams up at Paige and Azzi, “like Mommy and Mama but MoMa.”
Paige laughs, her eyes suddenly starting to feel a little wet, as she wraps an arm around Azzi’s waist, watching her children fawn over the presents they’d just opened. There’s plenty more left and she’s excited to watch their reaction to opening the others but the first ones are always just a little more special. And whether it was giving Sienna a basketball court, or giving Miles a version of their voices, through these gifts they’d tried to give their children a part of themselves.
“Hey,” Azzi snaps Paige out of her trance, her hand reaching down to intertwine with Paige’s as she begins to pull her away from their family, “come with me for a second.”
“Azzi Fudd,” Paige puts a dramatic hand to her chest, smirking as she follows her wife upstairs, “are you sneaking me into our bedroom to have a quickie? While our family and our children are right downstairs?”
Azzi turns to her with a cheeky grin as they enter their bedroom, tracing a finger down Paige’s arm, “would you object if I was?”
“Abso-fucking-lutely not. Let’s do it,” Paige waggles her eyebrows, pulling Azzi into her chest but the younger woman immediately shrugs herself out of it as she goes into their closet instead, “oh okay then, leave me high and dry on fucking Christmas Eve.”
“Shut up,” Azzi chides, still rummaging through drawers before she finally emerges from the mahogany doors with a small silver box, walking back to Paige with a small smile on her face, “I figured you should get to open a present tonight too.”
“Well the present I was hoping to unwrap was you-” her joke is cut off by Azzi laughing.
“Baby please, you are way too old to be saying that shit.”
“Hey,” Paige says with mock offense, “first of all, I’m not that old and second of all, you’re never too old to be flirting with your wife.”
“First of all, it’s okay that you’re old baby, I like them a little older,” Azzi smirks, “and second of all, you are if the flirting's that corny and third of all,” she gives Paige a pointed look when the other woman open her mouth to counter, “shut up and open your present.”
“Still so bossy aren’t you princess?” Paige shakes her head but she does as she told, delicately removing the lid from the box and gasping when she sees the necklace inside, “baby, it’s beautiful.”
The necklace is similar to the engagement ring she’d gotten for Azzi, not the one from the fair all those years ago, but the real one. It’s a simple enough chain with a heart shaped diamond-encrusted locket, except on either side of the heart, the chain is looped into two infinity symbols.
“Open it,” Azzi says softly.
“What?” Paige asks, still staring dazedly at the dainty jewelry in her hands.
“The heart,” Azzi points to the locket, “it opens.”
Paige does as she’s told, delicately using her nails to pull apart the locket and a fresh set of tears brim in her eyes when she sees what’s inside. On one side of the heart is a picture of Miles and Sienna, the twins grinning at the camera and Paige remembers the exact moment she’d taken it. On the other side, is a picture of Paige and Azzi; specifically a picture of their kiss at their wedding.
“Baby,” Paige says again, uncannily lost for words.
“You’re really fucking hard to shop for you know that?” Azzi says slowly, her own eyes glistening with moisture “like what do you even get someone who basically has everything because you know- like you always say- we’re your everything -all you could ever want is me, Miles and Sienna- and we’re already yours, just like you’re already ours. And so I figured I’d just give you a reminder of it, something you can always keep with you so you always know.”
“It’s perfect,” Paige breathes out as she holds the locker out towards Azzi, “put it on me?”
Azzi grins as Paige turns around and the blonde watches through the mirror as the chain is placed carefully around her neck and her wife firmly clasps it together before placing a soft kiss to the back of her neck.
“I love you,” Azzi whispers when Paige turns back around, “for eternity.”
“I love you,” Paige whispers back, pulling her wife flush against her chest, the locket with her world hanging between them, “to eternity and beyond.”
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“Love Me Like I Do”
| MCU & Headcanons
Sypnosis — What their love languages are and the kind they want to receive.
Note — Wanda Maximoff, Natasha Romanoff, Agatha Harkness, Rio Vidal
(Female doctor centered, no pronouns used.)
------------------------------------------------------
!!
Wanda Maximoff
• — As the nurturing person she is, Wanda definitely shows her love through acts of service.
• — She’s an early bird and watches you sleep comfortably, knowing you haven’t been sleeping properly. She would tuck your hair lovingly, staring at you as if you’d slip away.
• — Even though you’re a doctor, she takes care of you nonetheless. Cooking for you when you forget to eat in the morning, or sitting on her lap as she does your makeup.
• — Sometimes you put all your energy into taking care of other people, you forget to take care of yourself.
• — She would also send constant messages. Both of you would exchange texts about your day, and she can’t help but glance at every notification. (a huge simp for you)
the hottest witch 👩🏻🦰
have you eaten, my pretty girl?
you forgot your phone, by the way
Y/N?
baby gurl reply c’mon
i’m worried, milaya
i know it’s your break right now, please reply
why aren’t you replying?
heyyy ☹️
oh wait
• — You were truly the light of her world, chuckling to herself as she charges your phone beside her as she finishes her mission reports.
• — Though because of your tight schedules, with her Avenger duties and your imperative job, it’s scarce to find time for eachother. Given that, she seeks for quality time.
• — It’s the simplest actions, honestly. Like when you go home early, having time to cook together. When you call in sick when she needs you, or when she has her full focus on her mission, knowing that you’ll be waiting for her when she comes home.
• — “Wands, I’m home!” You call, removing your hair tie.
• — Without a word, she instantly hugs you like a koala, burying her face on your neck, making you laugh softly.
• —Before you could ask her where your phone was, she utters: “It's charging.”
• — You secretly liked it when she reads your mind, especially at the littlest things that make it more domestic. She swayed your body as she hugged your waist gently, with your hands over her neck.
• — Amidst the chaos, knowing that you’ll come home to eachother was a greater comfort.
Natasha Romanoff
• — Natasha shows her uttermost love when she gives gifts.
• — Growing up, she and Yelena were spoiled by Melina often. Their childhood wasn’t like others, but Melina tried her best to give them a somewhat normal childhood. Up until now, she had grown to be very sentimental. Each and every gift meant alot to her, but even more when she’s the one who gives.
• — Natasha would give you gifts regularly, pampering you with things that remind her of you.
• — You would randomly wake up with your favorite flowers and chocolates beside you as she slept, light snores heard from against your chest.
• — “Tasha, what’s the occasion?” You ask, playing with her hair as she blinks away her weariness.
• — “I don’t know. Halloween?” She raspily whispers against your ear before going back ro sleep.
• — It was December and you adored her antics, appreciating every gift she gives you, especially because she sees how tiring it can be to be hardworking.
• — Despite it all, it still amuses you how she buys things that aren’t really necessary.
y/n mcstuffins
Alianovna.
Why on earth is there a kitten in our bathtub?
nat her gf 🙅🏼♀️
Hahahahaha um what the sigma idk ⁉️
• — Secretly, you discovered that her heart warmed up for physical touch.
• — In the toughest times, simple hug was all she needed. Natasha has always been independent. She didn’t was to be reliant. But with you, it was easy to ask for help. Especially when you were so warm and gentle with her.
• — “Are you mad at me, krasivyy?” She asked, fiddling with her fingers as you get ready for bed.
• — “No, of course not. But I would’ve appreciated if you would’ve told me beforehand.” You say as you coddle the kitten, laying next to her as she puts her head on your chest.
• — “Okay, I will next time.” Natasha said softly, feeling like putty in your arms that held her ever so loving. As the kitten purrs in between you, she, for once, felt contented.
• — Maybe the things she was always afraid of, was the things she needed. Affection, and cats.
Agatha Harkness
• — Okay, this blood-thirsty witch is so physical touch.
• — Agatha firmly believes that she cannot live without feeling you. She has to have her hand draped over your waist, or your lower back, or even the simple act of holding your hand.
• — At first, you didn’t see her for the affectionate type. But wow, did that change when she started growing comfortable in your presence.
• — “Hey, you. What’s wrong?”
• — With Agatha practically all over your personal space as she hugs you tightly from behind, “Nothing, my love.”
• — She admires your profession, regardless of how contrast it is to her wrongdoings back then. When she first told you about her past, you could only hug her, gently caressing her hair from behind.
• — When you would come home very tired, she would use her purple to ease your tense shoulders. One time, you fell asleep in her arms because she really set the comfortable sensual mood. She smiled at you lovingly, as she lays down beside you.
• — Though, she’ll never admit it was for entirely something else.
• — What she’ll admit though, is how she appreciates every gift you give her.
• — When she talks about her interests, you look forward to searching cute gifts online just to make her smile. The unexpectancy of it all is what makes it so sweet to her, knowing that she didn’t have much growing up
• — But with you, it’s like time hadn’t stopped. Her life had kept on going, knowing she had someone to wake up with everyday.
she who walks in the road
Okay, good news or bad news?
the road in question
Bad news? Is something wrong? I have surgery in 5, babe.
she who walks in the road
I might have blasted a cute rabbit of of fear cus to be fair it was on our bed, and now it’s limping like a dummy. I am so sorry. 🕊️
the road in question
Good news?
she who walks in the road
I’m hot as fuck.
seen
• — Okay, maybe she woke up on the couch the day after. But what matters is that she loves you, immortally.
Rio Vidal
• — Not the Death herself expressing her love in words of affirmation.
• — Being a literal cosmic entity isn’t the only thing she prioritizes, or at least wasn’t when you met her. In spite of her job, she was fond of exploring the world. That was when she met you.
• — She saw you crying on a bench, your tote bag beside you. Your hands were covering your face as you sobbed uncontrollably. It was late at night, and it was dangerous for a person to be sitting alone in the evening.
• — She approached you, asking you what was wrong. You tell her how you lost your patient. You kept on saying that if you could’ve tried harder, she would’ve survived.
• — “It wasn’t your fault. Sometimes, people die because it is simply their time. I can assure you, she lived a long life and went peacefully. You tried your best, and that’s what matters.”
• — And all of a sudden, you found yourself hugging her. Rio was shocked. That was her first time being hugged by a human being, or any being at all. It felt wonderful to be hugged, she wonders if this is what people live for.
• — She was so reassuring, and you trust her with your whole heart. She would compliment you any chance she gets. Knowing someone as beautiful as you, inside and out, deserves it.
• — Years of being together, exploring the vast world with her was nothing but joy.
• — It was either reading old poetry to eachother, or you saying names of deceased people and ask her what age did they die.
• —Though her favorite part is when she hugs you at night. It was just you and her.
• — She then searches on a digital screen about the certain action. Physical touch, it read. She was extremely fond of this physical touch thing. As she spoons you, you press kisses all over her face.
• — Rio tries to hide her blushing face in the crook of your neck, but fails miserably.
• — “I love you so much. I’m glad it was you who I met that night. Otherwise, I would’ve met you in another way.”
• — The witch laughs, rolling her eyes as she laid comfortably beside you. “I love you most and more. I am certainly glad at met you the way I did, mi vida.”
• — And you brought life to death herself.
!!
milaya - darling
krasivyy - beautiful
mi vida - my life
congratulations - my love
!!
#valwrites .ᐟ#marvel#marvel cinematic universe#wanda maximoff#natasha romanoff#agatha harkness#rio vidal#wanda maximoff x reader#natasha romanoff x reader#agatha harkness x reader#rio vidal x reader#elizabeth olsen#scarlett johansson#kathryn hahn#aubrey plaza#wandanat#agathario#fluff#pure fluff#it’s so fluffy i’m gonna die
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home for the holidays - mason mount
summary: just when nothing seems to be going right for Mason and Y/N, her Christmas plans are foiled for the second year in a row, leaving her unsure of how to approach the topic with Mason
pairing: Mason Mount x reader
word count:
warnings/tags: a little bit of angst at the beginning but it all turns fluffy for the rest of it, pre-established relationship, mentions of Mason’s recent injury, hurt/comfort, interrupted beauty sleep, Christmas celebrations :))))))
based on a request from @raremasey as a part two to christmas on my own
notes: Merry Christmas to all who celebrate!!!!! I wasn’t planning on posting another fic before the New Year, but when I got this request, I knew I had to write it in time to post before the holiday season was up! Thank you all for sticking with me through this year 🤍 You all mean more to me than you’ll ever know!! I hope you’re all getting to spend some time resting and enjoying your family/friends!! Please enjoy the fic!!
As Christmas Day approached rather quickly, you thought to yourself that you must never have experienced a holiday season that was quite so dreary.
You had done your best to bring the festive holiday spirit into your home—even into Mason’s as you forced him to join you in decorating his house on the very first day of December, dragging him into a few shops to buy extra decorations to fill his house. He had only pretended to be a little bit annoyed, his aversion to shopping completely overcome by getting to watch the joy on your face while decorating for the holidays. You had spread lights, tinsel, ornaments, and little snowman figurines all over the rooms of his home while you shuffled your Christmas playlist in the background.
Since your addition to his family’s Christmas celebrations last year had been impromptu, this was the first time Mason had gotten to see how much you loved this time of year. He truly thought he had never met someone who was as enthusiastic and joy-filled at the mere thought of Christmas.
However, Mason still couldn’t help but feel a pang of disappointment each time he remembered that you wouldn’t been spending Christmas morning with his family. He tried his best not to show it— he knew how much it meant to you that your family would be traveling to see you this year.
Your relationship with your parents had felt a bit… well, strained over the last year. Ever since the incident of last Christmas, when they had failed to give you an advance notice of their plans to travel to see your brother for the holiday and leaving you to celebrate alone, you couldn’t shake the feeling of being quite low on their list of priorities. It wasn’t just Christmas; it was a host of other incidences as well. You had done your very best to repair what seemed to have been damaged, and the fact that you would get to see your family for the holiday left you overjoyed. With a couple promotions at work this past year, you had been able to move into a nicer, larger flat, and Mason knew you were excited for them to get to see it—not to mention how glad you were to be together with them on Christmas Day and finally get to introduce them to Mason.
Despite this throwing a wrench in his holiday plans, Mason couldn’t help but think life was starting to look up for the two of you. After another brief spell out of the United squad following his head injury, he was back to getting regular minutes on the pitch, and the new gaffer seemed to be working him in as a more important part of the team. And with your successes in your career, you had been more optimistic than ever. And as the two of you approached your first dating anniversary, you both truly couldn’t have been happier together.
But all of that seemed to come crumbling down in the matter of a few days.
When you had gotten the call from your mother, you almost couldn’t believe your ears.
Your brother had unexpectedly received the news that his work schedule had changed, and he would be expected to work on Christmas Eve—meaning he, his wife, and your 2-month-old niece would be unable to travel to visit you. But your father and mother couldn’t possibly bear to miss the little one’s very first Christmas, so instead they would remain at home and your brother (who lived nearby) would host Christmas instead.
Too much in shock to form much of a thought, you had asked if she was sure. But it was final— the flights had already been cancelled, and they were firm in their decision.
Your stomach sank to your feet, and the only thing you could bring yourself to do was end the call without another word to her. Standing in your kitchen, you cried silently, the tears streaming down your cheeks as a million thoughts ran through your mind. You felt that you would never be enough for your parents, wondered what you had done to deserve such treatment from them.
The news felt like a sharp object had been driven into your heart and you spent the rest of your evening curled up on your bed, wallowing in your feelings and ignoring the calls and texts from your mother after you had unexpectedly ended your conversation.
When you awoke the next morning, your first thought was of talking to Mason about the previous night's events—a conversation that would unfortunately have to wait as he had a big game to play today: the highly anticipated Manchester derby. It was a huge game, not only because of the longstanding rivalry between the two teams, but because Mason was expected to be in the starting eleven.
Knowing you couldn’t bear to serve as a distraction from such a huge moment for him after the months and months of hard work it had taken him to get there, you decided your problems would have to wait. You couldn’t talk to him before the game and risk shifting his focus. But you also couldn’t talk to him after the game—if United lost, it would just be rude to make things about yourself instead; but if they won, you couldn’t possibly bring down his good mood with your complaining.
So then, you decided, you would have to tell him tomorrow… or maybe the next day.
You took a hot shower, hoping to wash away the heavy feeling in your chest and the puffiness of your eyes. You had donned your kit with Mason’s name printed across the back and made your way to the Ethiad stadium.
The crowd was buzzing as they awaited the start of the game. You settled into the private box, greeting Mason’s family, and you knew Lewis could tell there was something off with you, but he didn’t mention it. Everyone was overjoyed at the news of the starting lineups, bringing with it the confirmation that Mason would be starting for the first time in quite a while.
You were overjoyed for him, able to put aside your own sorrows for the time being, eyes shining with happy tears as you watched him walk out onto the pitch while the anthem played.
But for the second time in less than 24 hours, your stomach sank as, 14 minutes into the game, you watched Mason wave the physios over as he sat on the grass. He was too far away for you to be able to make out his facial expression, but there was no mistaking the posture of the rest of his body. As he spoke with the physios and they looked him over, his shoulders slumped, a resigned look taking over him.
As if this day needed another disappointment.
The rest of your day had been spent looking after Mason, bringing him anything you thought he could possibly need so he wouldn’t lift a finger and holding him tight in your arms to ease the disappointment of yet another setback in his recovery.
Surely now you couldn’t mention everything with your parents to him just yet. It would be so cruel to make him feel sorry for your when he was facing such a disappointment of his own. Perhaps you would just have to wait until his spirits were lifted—even just a little.
But as days passed and time got away from you, Christmas Day crept closer and closer, and Mason’s mood didn’t seem to be improving at all. You did everything in your power to cheer him up— bought him little treats and left them with notes for him to find, sending sweet little text messages throughout the day to let him know how proud you were of the hard work he was putting into recovering. You even went so far as to take a couple days off of work to make a long weekend for yourself and spent the time off pampering him with a bit of a spa weekend as best you could.
And though he always expressed his appreciation for your efforts, the smile he gave you was all too forced, and you knew he was still hurting inside. He had apologized to you a few times now for “being a right grump,” afraid he would ruin your excitement for Christmas time— and after that, you just didn’t have the heart to tell him that someone had already beat him to it.
So you had resolved to keep it to yourself. He just didn’t have to know, and you decided that was for the best. It tore you up inside to keep something from him, but you told yourself that it would be for his own good, allowing him to focus on his time with his own family instead of on comforting you.
For the next days, you carried the secret around like a weight sitting on your chest, feeling a small pang of grief each time you remembered that you wouldn’t be seeing your family. But you did your best to keep those feeling under wraps, so as not to worry Mason.
It was only 2 days before Christmas, when Mason had decided to stay at yours for the night and you slid under the covers behind him, pressing your chest up against his back ad tangling your bare legs with his. Many months ago, Mason had confessed that he liked to be the little spoon when he was feeling a bit more vulnerable. And after his most recent injury a couple weeks ago, it had become a staple in your nighttime routine with him. You loved the feeling of cuddling up close to his warm skin, and you couldn’t help from pressing a barely-there kiss to the base of his neck, sending a gentle shiver down his spine.
Tucking the blankets in around the two of you, you settled into a comfortable silence, and Mason intertwined his fingers with yours, where your hand was resting on his tummy, giving it an appreciative squeeze.
“Were you able to wrap everything up at work today?” Mason asked softly, knowing you had a few things you needed to get done before taking a few days off for the holidays. You felt a warm feeling in your chest at the fact that, no matter what he was dealing with, Mason always made an effort to ask questions about you—about your day, your work, the friends you had seen recently.
“I was,” you smiled, peppering a couple kisses across his shoulders, overwhelmed with the need to show him a bit of love while you held him in your arms. “Ari helped me get the last of it finished right before I had to leave, so I don’t have to worry about a thing over the break.”
“Good, good,” he breathed, and you could tell he was enjoying the attention you were giving him. “Your parents get in tomorrow, right? Are you excited to see them?”
Your breath hitched in your throat before you could stop it and you froze, trying to come up with a good enough excuse to not talk about the situation.
But you hesitated a moment too long, and Mason caught on easily to the way you’d tensed up behind him.
“Y/N? What is it?” he tried to turn in your grasp as he spoke, but you only held him tighter, pressing your face between his shoulder blades so he couldn’t see the tears that had sprung to your eyes before you had a chance to stop them.
He wriggled in your grasp for a moment, but you knew it was no use, allowing him to pry your arms off his waist so he could turn over and look at you. Your hands flew to your face, covering it as some last-ditch effort to conceal your emotions, but it was far too late, and you knew that.
“Y/N, angel…” You felt Mason’s fingers gently pull at your wrists, and you were left with no choice but to stare back at him with tear-filled eyes. “Talk to me, what’s going on?”
Mason’s brow was furrowed with concern as he reached out to stroke a thumb across your cheek. His mind was reeling, trying to figure out what had you so upset.
“Is it your parents?” You could only manage a nod in return.
“They’re not coming?” Another nod. You watched Mason’s face fall in genuine hurt for you.
“Again?” It was barely a whisper when he said it.
With that single word, it was like the dam had burst, and all of the emotions that you had been holding back for weeks sprung to the surface. You curled yourself into Mason’s chest, no longer able to think about anything other than seeking a bit of comfort in his arms. His hands slipped under your shirt, tracing circles and gentle lines across your skin the way he knew you loved, as he could do nothing else but listen to your soft cries.
It didn’t take long for you to quiet to soft sniffles, and Mason pulled back slightly from you, cradling your jaw in his hand so you’d look up at him.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Mason did his very best not to sound accusatory, but in his mind, he couldn’t think of any reason why you would have kept this from him.
It took you a moment to respond, still working to calm your breathing. “Well, they... um, they told me about the night before the derby,” you started. “And before the game, I didn’t want to distract you, so I decided to wait. But then, you got injured, which meant you already had so much on your plate, and you seemed so down that I didn’t think I could possibly bring myself to add even more to it, so…”
“So you’ve been carrying this around for the last couple weeks all alone?” Mason finished for you. You shrugged in response. He could only hold you a little bit tighter, heart clenching in his chest at the thought of you being so weighed down by these emotions without him even knowing.
Mason couldn’t help but feel like kicking himself over the way he had been wallowing for the last week or two since his injury. He had been so caught up in himself that he hadn’t even noticed how you were feeling, and it made him appreciate everything you had done for him just that much more. Despite facing your own disappointment, you had put all your energy into cheering him up and making him feel better.
Gone was the feeling of self-pity over his recently poor luck with injuries at the United, and taking its place was the warm feeling of gratitude—for you and the way that you loved him so deeply, so sacrificially.
He pressed a few kisses onto your forehead, the gears in his mind turning as he thought of ways to make you feel better—one in particular stood out as the obvious choice among the rest.
“Tomorrow morning, I’ll help you pack a bag so you can stay at mine for a few days,” Mason stated matter-of-factly. “My family will all be arriving in the evening and they’ll be so happy to see you—Mum and Jazz especially, they were so disappointed when I told them you wouldn’t be spending Christmas morning with us.”
“Mason, I couldn’t,” you retorted, but Mason had expected this resistance from you. “I sprung everything on you so last-minute last year, I can’t—“
“You didn’t spring anything on me last year,” Mason shushed you softly. “I invited you. And better yet this year, you already know just how stubborn I am, so you know this conversation isn’t ending in any way other than you agreeing to go home with me tomorrow.”
Mason’s soft smile was infectious, the sides of your mouth curling upward as he awaited your response.
“You are quite stubborn…” you giggled quietly.
“So is that a yes?”
A beat more of silence passed before you replied with a soft “okay,” and Mason burried his face in your neck, squeezing you tightly in excitement and you couldn’t help but giggle at him, your mood instantly lifted. The hurt and disappointment was still there, but it was significantly dimmed by the knowledge that you would get to be a part of the Mount Christmas for the second year in a row.
Mason finally pulled back after scattering several sloppy kisses across the base of your neck, his eyes sparkling as he propped himself up on an elbow and hovered his face over yours. His eyes darted around your face, a look of unmistakable excitement on his features as he took you in.
“You have no idea how excited I am to spend Christmas with you again,” he whispered, his nose brushing yours.
You cradled his jaw with your hand, your eyes going misty as you thought about how lucky you were to have him in your life, through all of the ups and downs.
“Thank you, Mason.” Your voice was so quiet, if he hadn’t been right up next to you, he might have missed it.
His only reply was to press his mouth to yours, trying to pour all of his love into a single kiss. You pulled him closer by the back of his neck, pressing your body as close to his as you could manage, feel safe in the warmth of him.
After a moment, he pulled away, both of you blushing and breathless—nearly a year together, and every kiss still felt as thrilling as your first.
“C’mon, let’s get some sleep,” he said, pressing one last quick peck to your lips. “We’ve got a busy day tomorrow.”
You nodded, smiling at the thought of the holiday celebrations you had in store; no longer dreading the time spent alone, but excited to get to see all of Mason’s family again.
The two of you settled underneath the duvet, holding each other close. And with the promise of a family-filled few days of Christmas joy, you both got the best night of sleep you’d had in weeks.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
The next day passed in an absolute whirlwind of events. The two of you had a bit of a lie in, sleepily discussing your plans for the next few days until long after the sun had risen. Lying in Mason’s arms, tucked warmly under the covers, you felt remarkably more settled than you had the day before. As you lay there with your eyes closed, listening as Mason softly explained that his family would be arriving later that afternoon, you basked in the feeling of his warm skin against yours—your legs tangled together, you chest pressed up against his, and his fingertips trailing lightly over your back.
Before it got too late, the two of you decided it was time to get up, sharing a quick shower together before Mason helped you pack a bag for the next days and the two of you were off to his house, with a brief stop at the store to pick up a couple last-minute necessities.
Late in the afternoon, Mason’s family arrived, and the Christmas Eve celebrations were in full swing. The house was full of life (and noise) as Summer and Mila ran around and Mason’s parents and siblings got their things settled into the guest rooms. A magical trip to Lapland’s made for the perfect evening and left the girls exhausted, so it was fairly easy to put them down once you had all made it home.
Once everyone was in bed, you and Mason got to work setting out all of the presents that had been carefully hidden in Mason’s large closet. Mason watched with admiration as you carefully arranged the gifts and filled everyone’s stockings with the little bits and treats you had picked up over the last few weeks. The care with which you sorted everything left him feeling warm inside, thinking once again how thankful he was to have you with him on Christmas Eve.
And once Mason had finished the glass of milk and taken a large bite out of the cookie the girls had left out for Santa, you and Mason headed up to bed for the night, buzzing with excitement over the next days festivities.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
It felt like your eyes had only just slipped closed when you were awoken abruptly by the sound of the bedroom door being flung open and banging into the wall.
“Uncle Masey! Uncle Masey!” a tiny voice shouted, sprinting over to the bed as fast as her little legs would carry her.
As you rolled onto your back, you spotted Summer scrambling up onto the mattress, crashing onto Mason’s chest as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes.
“Uncle Masey, wake up!” Summer shouted again, exasperated. She took hold of one of his arms and shook as hard as she could manage.
“What is it, sweetie?” you feigned confusion, as you tried to get Summer’s attention, giving Mason an extra moment to wake up.
“It’s Santa…” she whispered, eyes wide. “He came. Here.”
“What?” you dropped your mouth open, mimicking her look of surprise. “You’re kidding.”
“He really did! He really did! Come and see!” Summer wriggled off of Mason’s chest, leaping to the carpeted floor and padding out of the room, leaving the door wide open as she went.
You rolled onto your side to face Mason, giggling at his furrowed brow and squinty eyes, clearly wishing he could just sleep for a couple more hours.
“You’ve got to get up,” you beamed at him, splaying a hand across his chest as you leaned forward to kiss the corner of his mouth. “Didn’t you hear? Santa’s been.”
Mason’s heart swelled with affection for seemingly the hundredth time in the last few days as you bent forward to press a proper kiss to his lips. For a moment, he got lost in the feel of you, hoping the two of you could spend just a few minutes more together in bed. However you, painfully aware of the open door behind you, pulled back and dropped one last kiss to his forehead. Slipping quietly out of bed, you popped to the bathroom to brush your teeth before you and Mason went downstairs to join the rest of his family.
The silver lining of Mason’s recent injury was that he didn’t have to train on Christmas morning. While most of his United teammates would be reporting for one last session before the Boxing Day matches, he was settling down on the couch next to you, surrounded by his family as Tony began handing out the stockings to everyone.
Much to your surprise, yours was no longer hanging on the mantel empty, as you had left it the night before. Instead, as you took it from Tony, you pulled out a variety of face masks, bath salts, and pleasantly scented soaps. You looked over at Mason, whose face held a satisfied smirk—he must have snuck back down last night after you had gone up and filled your stocking without you knowing.
You whispered a soft “thank you,” tucking your face into his neck as he squeezed you into his side. It meant more to you than he’d ever know that he always went out of his way to make sure you were looked after—even in small ways, like making sure to fill your Christmas stocking.
The morning continued, and Summer had declared that she should be the one handing out gifts this year. So, with a Santa hat atop her head, she ran back and forth between the tree and everyone else, dropping the presents in everyone’s laps before returning to the tree to grab another.
She approached you with a small box in her hands, mumbling a soft, “here you go, Auntie Y/N,” before spinning on her heel and returning to the tree.
You froze in shock for a moment— it was the very first time Summer had ever called you that. You cared deeply for the little girl and her sister, and her clear acceptance of you as a part of the family meant a great deal to you. Mason, sitting with one arm behind you on the couch and on resting on your leg, squeezed your thigh as he saw your eyes go misty at Summer’s words.
You sniffled, trying not to cause a scene by getting too emotional as you carefully tore the wrapping paper off of the small box. Inside, you found a gold necklace with a round pendant engraved with your birth flower and Mason’s intertwined. One the back, the date that the two of you had met was engraved—above it, the words Forever and Always.
“Oh, Mase. You shouldn’t have,” you exclaimed, tucking your head into his neck once again. You could feel his chest shake with laughter as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders, holding you close.
“It’s perfect, Mason. I love it. Thank you.” You had pulled back to look at him, and you watched as a warm blush spread across his cheeks.
You spent the rest of the morning with your head on Mason’s shoulder, watching with enthusiasm as everyone opened their presents. You received several other thoughtful presents from Mason and the rest of his family—a tote bag you had mentioned wanting to get from Jazz and her husband, a wax warmer and a few different sweet-smelling wax melts from Tony and Debby, among others.
It really was the perfect morning, spent curled up in Mason’s side, and you felt so full of love for your boy and the family that had made him who he was today.
Eventually, all of the presents had been opened, and Summer and Mila sat on the floor with their new toys spread across the room. Before long, everyone started to make their way into the dining room to eat the breakfast that Debbie had apparently been up cooking before anyone else was even awake.
It was a feast beyond comparison, the table covered in cinnamon rolls, bacon, fried eggs—everything a hearty breakfast could possibly need. And as everyone tucked in, you were sure to tell Debbie how good everything tasted.
Once everyone had finished, you and Mason cleared the table and loaded everything into the dishwasher, deciding to deal with the rest later that afternoon. Lewis was working on setting up their traditional Christmas Day movie, having decided on “It’s a Wonderful Life” over breakfast.
With everything sorted and the leftovers in the fridge, you turned to go join the rest of Mason’s family in the living room when you felt Mason’s hand on your wrist, spinning you around and pulling you into his chest.
Mason’s eyes sparkled as he looked down at you.
“Huh, would you look at that…” Mason spoke with an air of mischief. “Mistletoe.”
For a moment you were struck by confusion, seeing as the two of you were standing in the middle of his kitchen with no real place to hang mistletoe. But your confusion was short-lived as you looked up to see Mason’s hand dangling a sprig of mistletoe above your heads.
A grin broke out on your face as you quirked an eyebrow at him, trying to shoot him an unimpressed look, despite the butterflies that were swarming in your tummy.
“We wouldn’t want to break tradition now, would we?” Mason tried again. “It’s probably bad luck… or something like that…”
By now the two of you were grinning like fools at each other, and you couldn’t believe your luck at having Mason in your life. You slipped a hand onto the back of his head, tangling your fingers into his hair as you brought his face down to yours.
Mason pressed his lips to yours in a delicious kiss as your eyes slipped closed. Mason dipped his tongue cheekily against the seam of your lips, and you pulled back slowly before things could get too heated in the middle of his kitchen.
“I’m so in love with you,” you breathed, nudging his nose with yours.
Mason beamed, eyes sparkling as he looked down at you. “I’m so in love with you,” he repeated your words. “And even though it isn’t how you planned your Christmas to go, I’m glad you’re here today.”
“Thank you, Mason,” you breathed. You must had said it a thousand times over the last couple of days. “For this, for everything. I’m so grateful for you. I love the way you love me.”
Mason pressed his lips to your forehead, holding your body close to his. “You don’t have to thank me, angel. I love getting to love you. It’s as easy as breathing for me.”
Your tummy did a somersault at his words, and you couldn’t help but press one more, quick kiss to his lips.
“You ready to go watch this movie?” Mason asked, grabbing your hand and intertwining your fingers with his. “You’re not allowed to fall asleep this year.”
You couldn’t stop the giggle that fell from your lips as he pulled you toward the living room, as you spoke. “Now for that, I can’t make any promises.”
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#mason mount#mason mount x reader#mason mount imagine#mason mount fic#footballer fic#footballer imagine#mason mount fluff#mason mount fanfic#mason mount one shot#mason mount blurb#mason mount angst
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Christmas Future - Carlos Sainz
<word count - 3031>
Cancelled.
That was the word in red that flittered after every single flight on the departures board at Gatwick airport. Your flight was cancelled and so was everyone else's.
You probably should have guessed that this was going to happen, but the small part of you that was desperate to go home was being optimistic. Pulling out your phone, you shot a few texts to your family to tell them that, unless the blizzard magically blew over, there was no way in hell that you were getting home on time to be there for Christmas morning. Or Christmas at all.
Everyone was resigned to the same fate, pulling their books and portable chargers out of their bags in preparation for the undoubtable hours that were to come. People were standing around, sitting on floors, crammed onto the seemingly endless yet dwindling seats.
You were standing too, still with your eyes glued to the screen as if it would change the words on the surface by sheer will. Turning your head, you saw the snowflakes dancing in the wind and battering the large windows of the airport, and you knew that your hopes were getting crushed.
You went to stand by the seats, waiting for someone to make the grave mistake of getting up to get a snack or go to the toilet. You knew it was going to be a while before someone caved and let their basic human rights override their need to have a seat, but you just stuffed your earphones into your ears and let the music take the time away.
After a few hours, your feet were starting to get sore, so you lowered yourself to the floor like a lot of other people around. It had cleared out slightly, since some people had just left to go and find a hotel for the night instead of sleeping on the floor of the airport.
The idea had crossed your mind a few times, but you wanted the opportunity to be on the first flight going as soon as possible. Being home was worth having a sore back and exhaustion.
You noticed how a few people had started talking to each other randomly, just for some way to pass the time. It was strange how they would have just ignored each other in passing, but were now getting to know one another.
While you were busy making up fake scenarios about the people you were seeing around, you failed to notice a pair of eyes watching you. He couldn't help but notice the disappointment on your face when all flights were cancelled until further notice and the tiredness in your expression when you slumped down on the floor.
He wondered if you were like him, just trying to get home in time for Christmas. He saw has your head lolled back and your eyes started to flutter closed, and he spotted the slight wince in your expression as you shifted around, trying to get comfortable.
He felt bad. He had been sat there for hours, and he was pretty settled. And there you were, a young lady being forced to sit on the floor. The chivalrous side of him was telling him to give up the seat for you, but the self-preservation was also telling him to stay in his seat and not be so generous to strangers.
But, he eventually gave in. Leaving his backpack on the seat so that no one would take it, he got up and walked over to you. His back was practically groaning after being in the same position for so long. Taking a deep breath, he spoke, his voice feeling hoarse from not having used it in a few hours.
"Excuse me, miss?" he asked, hoping you could hear him over your music, because that could have gotten very awkward. For a few seconds, he didn't think that you had heard him, but you took one of your earphones out to listen to him.
"Yeah?" you said, looking up at the handsome stranger. He was tall, but that was probably because he was towering over you. He had a thick mop of nearly black hair, falling over the tanned skin of his forehead. But his eyes captured you the most. Deep and brown. All too easy to get lost in.
"I had just noticed you've been sitting here for a long time, and you look like you could use rest in a proper chair," he said, and you couldn't help but let a soft smile spread across your lips. A handsome stranger with manners? Now you really felt like you were dreaming. Maybe the lack of sleep was making you delirious.
"Are you sure? I don't mind sitting here if you don't want to lose your seat," you said, grateful for his generosity, but also feeling slightly guilty at the thought of taking up his offer.
"Course, I've been sat there for a few hours. I don't mind taking the floor for a little while," he smiled, rocking back on his heels slightly. This was getting into dangerous territory now. Handsome, manners, dazzling smile.
"Well thank you," you said, putting your things back in your bag and making a poor attempt at standing up. He offered a hand out to you, and you took it without hesitation. They were a lot bigger than yours, as well has a lot warmer. Slightly calloused too, he could probably do with some hand cream but you doubted he was that type of guy.
Walking you over to the seat, he picked his backpack up from it and slung it over his left shoulder. Slumping down into the seat, your body was happy to have some small sliver of a cushion as opposed to just hard flooring.
The stranger just stood there, unsure of whether to walk away and find some free floor space or wait with you. You noticed his internal struggle, and decided that you didn't want the stranger to return to being a stranger just yet.
"Do you want to sit with me? I've got a neck pillow you can use, since you're going to be on the floor?" you asked, instantly feeling like an idiot. It felt like your attraction to him was completely obvious, but there was no way to get to know someone unless you talked to them.
"Sure," he nodded with that smile again. You shuffled your legs to the side so that he could rest his back on the edge of the seat, and you pulled your neck pillow out of your bag to hand to him. He had to admit, it was a very nice and comfy neck pillow.
Despite what you could only assume to be a whole day of travelling, he still smelt unreal as he sat so close to you. Something deep, musky. Definitely something expensive.
The stranger was also thinking of you as you sat there. He'd expect someone to be cranky after all of the flights being cancelled - especially on Christmas Eve. Yet here you were, being so nice to him after a day of globe trotting.
"So, what's your name?" he asked, turning his head to look at you.
"Y/N, you?" you returned.
"Carlos." he said, and he suited the name. His shoulder kept brushing against your legs, and you could feel the warmth of him through his jacket sleeve. "Were you heading home for the holidays?" he questioned, looking down at his watch as if the flights would suddenly be back on.
It looked expensive, even if you didn't know the exact brand. He likely had money, was probably flying business or first class. It wasn't apparent quite yet which one it would be.
"Yeah, I was. But I don't think anyone is making it in time for Christmas at this rate." you explained, and he nodded in response.
"Me too. But I think I'll have to be prepared for the family to open presents without me," he said, and you could hear the hint of sadness in his tone. You completely understood, since this would be the first Christmas that you wouldn't be spending with your family.
"So where would home be if this blizzard wasn't keeping us all hostage?" you joked, trying to lighten the mood. Carlos seemed to get the hint, chuckling slightly at your quip. It was a hearty, deep sound. One that made the cold airport seem a little warmer.
"Madrid, not a long flight thankfully. I'd hate to do some sort of long haul after being stuck here for however long we're going to be."
"But I guess you can get a good sleep on a long haul. On shorter flights, there's not much time to fall asleep and get enough rest so then you'll be even more tired on landing then customs and baggage claim and then getting to where you need to go." you rambled, and you noticed that Carlos was just looking at you.
He was staring up at you from his spot on the floor. He had a soft smile on his face, as if he was enjoying your little analysis into long haul versus short haul flights at a time like this. "Sorry..." you mumbled, looking down at your lap.
"No, no. You're good," he reassured, nudging you in the leg with his shoulder. You felt comfortable with Carlos, despite the fact that you had only known him for about ten minutes. The two of you settled into a silence for a short while, just enjoying having someone there to talk to if you felt like it.
Snow was still hammering against the window, and it wasn't showing any signs of slowing down any time soon. Sighing to yourself, you leant back in your chair to try and get comfy for a short nap. Carlos noticed you shifting and turned to look at you.
"Do you want your pillow back?" he asked.
"No, it's OK. You're on the floor, you need it more," you shook your head, shuffling to try and find some sort of position that your body would allow you to sleep in.
"Wake me up if there are any flights to Geneva. Or if you get a flight so that I can say goodbye," you told him.
"Geneva, eh?" he asked, looking very intrigued. "I would not have guessed that you're swiss." he continued. To be fair, he was very obviously Spanish, so it was easy to guess. With you, it was a bit more of a mystery.
"I'm not, my entire family live there," you explained, and he was listening intently.
"Well that's cool. I'm sure Geneva is stunning at Christmas," he said, and you nodded in response while stifling a yawn. "Anyway, I'll let you sleep. And I will only wake you up if I have to go if there is a flight for you," he repeated, with a somewhat melancholy expression.
Carlos didn't want to say goodbye to you, not so soon. He had become captivated by the girl that he had first seen, eyes glued to the board in hopes that her flight might be reinstated or rescheduled to something in the near future.
He couldn't say why, either. All he knew was your name and that you were heading home to Geneva. Well, that was where your family was. He didn't know where you were from originally. But, he wanted to find out. For the meantime, however, he would let you rest and just hope that another flight wouldn't pop up for either of you.
He wanted to go home for Christmas, but he'd make it back in time for lunch at least if the flights held out for another few hours. That way, he'd get to spend some time with you and would be able to have ample time with his family at home.
His texts to them weren't getting through due to how bad the weather was, but he was sure that they had been tracking his flight and would have seen that it was cancelled. They also knew he was at the airport, so they hopefully wouldn't worry too much about his whereabouts.
About 3 hours had gone by, and Carlos' phone was nearly dead. So was his back. You were still sleeping. Maybe not so peacefully, but you were sleeping nonetheless. He was itching to get a coffee or something, just to wake him up a little.
Carlos stood up, stretching out his muscles as they groaned in protest. "Hey, hey," he mumbled, gently nudging you awake. The first thing you saw when you opened your eyes was Carlos standing over you, and you had to give yourself a few moments to verify that this wasn't a dream.
"Are you going? Am I going?" you sleepily murmured, really hoping that neither of you had to leave just yet.
"No, I was just going to get a coffee and I was wondering if you wanted anything from any of the shops? Snacks, drinks, maybe a blanket from somewhere. Whatever you want." he said, taking his hand off of your shoulder and shoving it back into his pocket.
"Just a coffee, please. Might perk me up," you told him, and he nodded before turning and walking off in the direction of the shops. It would be a miracle if they had any coffee left after hours of people waiting in the airport, but Carlos went knew that he needed to try.
He went to a few coffee shops, most of them not having anything caffeinated and only soft drinks. Eventually, though, he found a very small cafe tucked away in the corner. Thankfully, they had a few coffees left, so Carlos ended up buying 2 coffees and 2 waters.
It was harder than expected to locate you in the rows upon rows of seats, since there were many people who looked like you from the back. But, some intuition that he had sent him in the direction of where you were. And there he spotted you. Yes, it was only the back of your head, but he knew it was you.
"Here you go," he announced, holding the to-go cup out to you. You took it from him with a grateful smile. He also fished out a water from his pocket, handing it out to you.
"Thank you," you said, sipping at the coffee. It was slightly too hot, burning your throat as it went down. The bitterness was welcome however, and you could already feel the caffeine seeping into your bloodstream. "That is perfection,"
"It's funny what something so simple can do, eh? Just a cup of bean water can make all the difference," he chuckled, and the sound was so infectious. It made the hustle and bustle of the stagnant airport seem a little less strange.
Just as Carlos finished his sentence, the chair next to him was vacated. The man who was originally sat in it was on the phone and was not looking pleased. It was probably his wife, asking where the hell he was. Carlos was quick off the mark, sitting down in it quickly before anyone else got any bright ideas after eyeing up the spot.
"There we go. Now we both have some rock hard plastic to sit on," he laughed, stretching his long legs out in front of him. For a while, the two of you were talking. You had lent him your power bank to charge his phone, and his texts to his family finally went through.
"Well would you look at the time," you declared, checking your phone and seeing that it was five minutes to midnight. Christmas was right on the horizon, and you weren't going to be seeing your family any time soon. Or opening presents. Or having dinner with them.
"Huh, looks like we'll be spending the majority of Christmas in this airport. Or we can get a hotel room. Well, I... not we, I meant me and you can have separate ones, I'm not trying to-" he stuttered, and it was strange to see him so rattled after being so composed over the last few hours.
"I know what you meant, Carlos. Don't worry. But I want to be on the first available flight home, so I will wait it out right here." you said, and he nodded in agreement. What you didn't know was that, if you were getting a hotel room, so was he. If you weren't, he wasn't either.
"Me too." he agreed, checking his watch to see that there was now only 3 minutes until Christmas day. His family were all asleep in their beds, aware of his turmoil, yet comfortable while you were stuck.
He felt guilty that he wasn't going to be there like he had promised. He was away all year, and the one time he always promised to be there, he wasn't. If he was being fair to himself, this was the first time that he had never been home for Christmas in his entire career, so his track record was pretty good.
You were thinking the same thing about your own family. There was nothing you wanted more than to teleport to your room and head downstairs to open presents and celebrate with the people you loved more than anything else in this world.
Checking the time once again, you opened your phone just in time to watch the clock strike midnight. "Merry Christmas, Carlos," you said, sincerely smiling at him. There were much worse ways to be spending Christmas trapped in an airport, that was for sure. You had lucked out with a handsome, kind and likely rich Spanish casanova.
"Feliz Navidad, Y/N." he said, and you couldn't help but feel the butterflies spark at the Spanish. And the blush on your cheeks had totally given you away. He liked seeing you flustered. And this wasn't a bad way to spend Christmas, and neither of you wanted to spend it like this again.
But, the ghost of Christmas future had a better idea. Well, they had a better idea for a few things. The scenario? No. The setting? No way. The person? Hell yes. The future was already setting paths out for both of you, and all you had to do was choose to walk down it.
A/N - Merry Christmas my darlings! I know, I have been dead to the world for a month and a bit, but the inspiration was on a low down. Or a complete zero. Alas, that does not mean that I was going to allow myself to not get a Christmas special out! I might have missed every other holiday, but I will not let myself miss this years! Also, the FIFTH part to the Lando series will be out later today as a little further Christmas present. So, merry Christmas to those who celebrate, have an equally wonderful day to those who don't, and thank you for all of the support this year. I hope I can be more consistent next year, but I am not making any promises.
Want more Christmas fun? Click here and here.
|masterlist|
#f1#formula 1#f1 x reader#f1 x you#formula 1 x reader#f1 imagines#formula 1 imagines#formula 1 x you#fluff#f1 x y/n#formula 1 x y/n#carlos sainz#carlos sainz x y/n#carlos sainz x you#carlos sainz x reader#carlos sainz imagines#cs55#cs55 x y/n#cs55 x reader#cs55 x you#cs55 imagines
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The London Derby | Lucy Bronze x Arsenal!Reader
Where you play an intense game against your girlfriend
Woso masterlist | Words: 1.5k
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The loud sound of your alarm broke the silence that had filled your bedroom, yanking you from a dream you could already not remember. With a groan you turned around, finding the warmth of your girlfriend. You snuggled into her side, and pulled your blanket further over your head. As if hiding from your alarm would magically make it go away.
Early mornings were not your strong suit, and early matches therefore even less. The struggle to get out of your bed on cold days like this was real. The warmth of your blankets is way too nice to give up just yet.
Luckily your girlfriend seemed to not notice time. It didn’t matter how early it was, she would be wide awake the moment the alarm went off. Ready to start the day the moment that the alarm sounded.
You felt Lucy shift beside you, rolling over to turn off the blaring alarm. Silence fell over the room, and you were ready to fall back to sleep. Your girlfriend knew better though, and instantly started a conversation.
“Good morning, darling.” You hummed and nestled your head further into her chest. “Too early.” You wanted this warmth and comfort to last, but you knew you had to get up and get ready, something your girlfriend wasn’t going to let you postpone, not on match day at least.
Lucy placed a few long kisses to the top of your head, “Come on, darling, big day today.” The London Derby. Lucy had heard you hype it up plenty over the years, but never before had she been a part of one. Let alone play one against you. Arsenal versus Chelsea this time around meant you versus Lucy. A match you had both been looking forward to, despite what fans had thought. Most fans thought it would be a tough match, to play against your girlfriend, but you loved it. You both respected each other and the other’s careers, so no matter the outcome of the match, you’d be happy for each other, like you had always been.
“Do I have to?” You groaned again, making Lucy chuckle lightly. “I mean, I’d say not getting up is a forfeit, so that means the first London Derby is automatically mine, no matter the score later.” This woke you up instantly. You sat up straight in bed, “Ain’t no way I’m forfeiting. Let’s go Bronze, we have to get up.”
Lucy was surprised at how fast you had gotten up, taking a mental note to use similar tactics to help you get up in the future.
When Lucy moved from Barcelona to London, you knew you wanted to move in together. You had been together for a few years, but had always lived in different cities. So, now that you’d finally be living in the same city, you didn’t have to think twice about moving a little further away from the training grounds to live somewhere between your jobs.
After a quick bite, you headed your separate ways. Lucy towards the Chelsea training grounds, to take the bus to the Emirates with her teammates, and you towards Leah. You don’t remember when it started, but somewhere along the lines, you and Leah had started a pre-match tradition of travelling together.
“Ready for your first derby against Luce?” She asked once you settled into her car together a while later. “Oh yeah, ready to start the tally 1-0 for us on the derby front.” Leah chuckled, she had known the both of you for a long time, and knew how competitive the both of you were separately, let alone together.
“Well, if you need a place to stay after we beat them, you know the spare room is yours if you need it.” You shake your head with a chuckle. “Thanks Lee, but we’ll be good no matter what.” She smiled, “Yeah, I know you will be. The offer always stands though, because we are getting that first derby win for you.”
It wasn’t until pitch inspections that you saw Lucy again. You met in the middle of the field, just for a moment before you’d join your own teams again. “Hey so one rule.” You said with a serious look on your face that made Lucy raise her brows in question. “You know how amazing I think your sliding tackles are.” Lucy nodded, a slight smirk playing on her lips. “Don’t you dare make them on me.”
Lucy laughed at the way you had gotten so serious about the matter. “I make no promises. Good luck in the match, I’ll see you out there.” You wished her good luck too and made your way over to Alessia and Kyra.
Like any London Derby, the teams were well matched and it had been a tough match for the whole eighty minutes you had played so far. Still no score on the board, and you were getting slightly frustrated with not being able to get around Lucy.
Yeah not only was it the London Derby against your girlfriend, but she was also the one defending you. It was a nice challenge, one you desperately wanted to win, but no luck so far.
Then seemingly out of nowhere, Kyra picked up the ball midfield. She lifted her head and you pointed forwards. Letting her know you wanted the ball over the top, so you could make the run. She had picked up on your instruction and kicked the ball exactly where you wanted it.
You started running and had surpassed Lucy, who was now chasing behind you. Lucy was fast, and you knew all too well that you had to keep going or she’d catch up with you.
Before you even had time to respond, you felt Lucy slide in, and knock your feet out from under you. You plummeted to the ground, before you ever registered what had happened, the referee blew her whistle signaling for a free kick.
You turned on your back so you could sit up, and saw Lucy’s hands reached out to you. “Are you alright?” You nodded and let her pull you back onto your feet. “Yeah, all good.” Lucy gave you a pat to the back before walking towards the line her teammates were forming in front of her goal.
While you were adjusting your cleats, Katie whispered something your way. With a smirk you nodded and joined the rest of your teammates that had made their way over to the penalty area as well.
Both Katie and Beth stood over the ball. Arsenal stood in a way that it could be either one of them kicking the ball. Katie’s words echo in your mind. “Wanna show your girlfriend what she gets for tackling you?” You knew exactly what she meant and had gotten in position.
Beth ran first, but stepped over the ball. Then Katie kicked it to the far corner. You ran up to it and jumped into the air, heading it right to the back of the net. 1-0 for Arsenal, finally and only about five more minutes to play. You celebrated with the girls before lining up again.
When the final whistle blew and exhaustion hit you right away. The match had been intense to say the least, and in the end you were just happy you were able to get away with the win in the end.
“First Derby win on the board!” Leah said as she hugged you. “That’s what she gets for tackling you.” Katie added with a teasing grin. You knew she was only joking but you knew you had to use that on Lucy as well tonight.
When Lucy got back home, you were already showered and watching tv in your sweats. The game had exhausted you, and you couldn’t wait for Lucy to get home so you could cuddle up to her and take a nap together.
In the privacy of your own home, you hugged Lucy tighter and longer. “You played very well, my love.” You pecked her lips, giving her the recognition she deserved after playing so well. But then Katie’s words came to mind again. “Too bad you had to tackle me though. I had warned you not to do that.”
Lucy chuckled, “Yeah yeah, are you going to punish me for doing it anyways?” Your smirk grew, “Nah, I think scoring the winning goal off the free kick you gifted us is punishment enough.”
“You’re hanging out with Katie too much.” Lucy joked with a shake of her head. “Great game, and good work on the set piece. I’m gonna take a quick shower.” She pecked your lips. “Cuddles after?” Lucy smiled at the puppy dog eyes you were giving her. “Always.”
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#lucy bronze x reader#lucy bronze#chelsea wfc#chelsea women#cwfc#arsenal wfc#arsenal women#awfc#chelsea women x reader#engwnt x reader#lionesses x reader#woso x reader
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♡ A LONG NIGHT - VINSMOKE SANJI
WARNINGS: fluff, gn!reader
WORD COUNT: 697
it is way past midnight as you’re looking at your boyfriend who is sound asleep. usually, he will always stay up and make sure you fall asleep first, but today was a long day and he could no longer keep his eyes open. if he knew about it, he would probably curse himself in the morning, he wouldn’t want to know that you were laying wide awake with your own thought while he slept comfortably.
his blonde hair is a mess as it’s covering half his face and even through the dark room, you can see his eyelashes resting against his cheeks.
one of his arms is holding you close to him by being wrapped around your waist, making it difficult for you to turn and find a more comfortable position, not wanting to wake him up.
life does become hectic at times, especially when you’re out sailing for a living and meet new people, both good and bad on different islands. having to cook dinner for the entire crew, sanji hasn’t been able to spend as much time with you as he would like.
if it wasn’t this late into the night, you wouldn’t be giving it extra thought, but your mind is wandering away into dangerous territory, overthinking.
the two of you are on the same boat all the time, even if you aren’t always right next to each other, you’re basically always in the same room. you’re always wandering around the islands together and always spend the night together, it isn’t impossible for him to grow tired of you, right?
after years of being crew mates and a couple, it wouldn’t surprise you at this point. there could be others that might be more interesting for him.
you shuffle slightly closer to him and bury your face into his chest, trying to get rid of the nagging thoughts, and feeling you moving in his arms, sanji slowly opens his eyes to find you still being awake.
“darling, are you not sleeping?” he mumbles while stretching slightly. his gaze moves towards you who is now looking back at him, eyes wide by hearing his voice. “can you not sleep?”
you shake your head and hear the sigh escape his lips. “you should’ve woken me up earlier, i could’ve made you something to eat or drink,” sanji whispers while placing one hand onto your cheek, rubbing it gently. “are you worrying about something?”
he kisses your forehead lightly while awaiting your answer. “i just hope we can be together forever,” you admit quietly. “i don’t want to lose you…”
sanji’s eyes widen at the sound of those words leaving your mouth, but he quickly composes himself and pulls you closer. “i don’t want to lose you either, baby. and you won’t lose me, i promise,” he leans his forehead against yours. “i’ll be your private chef for the rest of our lives, you don’t need to worry.”
you can’t help but smile when he says that, and you move as close to him as you possibly can, wrapping your arms around him tightly. “so you like having a private chef? i knew you were just with me for my cooking skills,” he tries to lighten the mood, knowing exactly how to make you feel better.
“don’t get full of yourself,” you roll your eyes at him, but sanji won’t let you say anything else as he finally presses his lips to yours. it’s not harsh, instead it’s soft and gentle while his hand stays resting on your warm cheek. “how can i not be full of myself when i somehow get to be your boyfriend?”
he begins brushing a hand through your hair. “but seriously, don’t doubt my love for you, ever. i’ll keep loving you for the rest of my life, i promise,” sanji whispers as your faces are only mere centimeters away from one another. “let’s try to sleep again, okay? and if you can’t fall asleep i’ll make you a snack and something to drink, okay?”
“that makes me not want to fall asleep.” “if you fall asleep you’ll get breakfast in bed, so shut those pretty eyes and get your beauty sleep.”
#one piece x y/n#one piece x you#one piece x reader#one piece fluff#one piece#one piece sanji#one piece vinsmoke sanji#vinsmoke sanji x reader#vinsmoke sanji#vinsmoke sanji x you#vinsmoke sanji x y/n#sanji x reader#sanji x you#sanji x y/n#sanji fluff#op x you#op#op x reader#op sanji#op fluff#op x y/n#x reader
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Oscar was frozen to the spot. It took him a few seconds for his brain to catch up with what he was seeing, but as soon as it did, he saw red.
Warnings: this is a heavy one guys, army!oscar and army!reader, non descriptive sexual assault!!!, I tried to describe it as vaguely as I could so no details, I feel like this is obvious but just in case the SA is not with Oscar, angst, kinda hurt/comfort, then some pretty freaky smut, I despise the very concept of the military but I'm a whore for a man in uniform so… here we are, vaguely based on that one episode of ‘Lie to me'
You and Oscar were very competitive. Everything from punctuality to training exercices were a chance to one up each other.
He was taller and stronger than you so it made physical challenges his area of expertise.
But you were more agile, more analytical, and a definite asset to the team.
You loved a man in uniform, but Oscar was just so insufferable not even the way his broad physique filled out his fatigues could save your opinion of him.
He was cocky, arrogant, and hated being wrong.
You bickered constantly, and the only reason your fights never got physical is because neither of you wanted a dishonourable discharge on your records.
You were always out on missions with your squad, and right now you were in Afghanistan.
Your sergeant was a different kind of man.
Nice, but a little bit creepy, would sometimes walk into the female locker rooms without announcing himself…
But he was always sweet to you. He was exceedingly polite, and never made any passes at you. He never made you drive the front convoy car, even though everyone was supposed to take turns doing it.
Which in a way you were grateful for, given that it was the most dangerous position to be in, even though it was a bit unfair to the others. You’d heard rumours, but he never did anything to you.
Until today.
Your last day before returning home.
The temperature in your tent was stifling that afternoon, so you'd gone off to a local spring that was surrounded by walls of rough rock to cool off and relax after a stressful few weeks.
You were in shorts and a sports bra, nothing indecent in case one of your fellow privates came along.
And the sergeant had apparently followed you there, because as soon as your outer layers were off, he sidled up next to you and put his hands on your hips from behind, making you jump.
“Hello, beautiful”
“Wha-” You tried to turn around and push him off, but he was too strong and pinned you against the rock face.
You struggled, but he quickly insured you couldn't call for help by putting a hand over your mouth.
“I think it's time to repay me for my generosity over these past few weeks, no?”
You were stuck, body pressed between him and the rocks, and you felt utterly helpless against his tall muscular frame.
…
Oscar was looking for you. He wanted to apologise to you after your brief argument earlier. He'd been a bit of a dick and you called him out, nothing out of the ordinary.
He was rehearsing what he wanted to say in his head, because despite the two of you always being on the verge of hating each other's guts, you pushed each other to become better, and he wasn't going to lie, he did have a bit of a soft spot for you.
Which is why when he turned the corner and saw you and the sergeant pressed together, the first thing he felt was intense jealousy.
But the way you seemed to be squirming in his hold, and the way he was holding you down sent a jolt of adrenaline through his body.
He didn't even think twice, he sprinted over and dragged the other man off you, throwing him on the ground easily.
The half-second glance he spared you told him everything he needed to know. You were on the verge of tears, and there were a couple of scrapes and bruises forming on your skin.
He turned and stalked towards the man on the floor.
You were so shocked at the sudden turn of events your legs gave out and you tumbled to the floor with relief.
Your eyes filled with tears and you turned away to get your clothes, but your body didn't respond.
You were forced to watch as Oscar straddled the sergeants waist and landed a well aimed blow to his nose, breaking it instantly.
“What the fuck do you think you were doing to her?!” he hissed, anger seeping from him in waves.
“None of your business, Piastri” the other man said, earning him another hit.
“Don't you ever touch her again, you hear me?”
The sergeant tried to spit at him but Oscar just landed another, much harder punch, this time knocking him out.
He stood up with a snarl, landing a hard kick to the man's ribs for good measure, and made his way over to you.
You were curled up with your knees tucked under your chin and tears still blurring your vision.
“Are you okay?” he asked tentatively, crouching down in front of you, a hand hovering somewhere near your arm, unsure if you were okay with being touched right now.
You didn't want to appear weak, and you didn't trust your voice so you simply gave him a swift nod.
Unfortunately the movement dislodged a few tears, which fell down your cheeks.
His heart broke.
“I'm sorry, that was a stupid question, really” he sighed at himself “Let's find your clothes and get you back to camp, then I’ll contact-”
He was looking around for your clothes and you couldn't help it, you surged forwards to wrap around him in a tight hug, almost knocking him off balance.
He took that as a sign that he could touch you, and held you in his arms, cradling you gently as you sobbed into his shirt.
You don't know how long you stayed like that, but it was long enough for the air temperature to drop as the evening rolled around, and a chill ran down your back.
You shivered and he helped you grab your clothes before heading back together, leaving the sergeant unconscious on the ground.
He stuck by your side all through dinner, keeping an eye on you as you ate your meal in relative silence while the others chatted away about their excitement of getting back home, not noticing that the mood was very different at the other end of the table.
You looked so downtrodden, Oscar didn't think twice before asking “Do you want to stay in my tent tonight?”
It was a bit of a risky question when he thought about it, but to his surprise, you nodded immediately and smiled at him sheepishly.
“If you don’t mind… I don't want to be alone in case… well…”
He smiled and put an arm around your shoulder. “I understand, don't worry”
…
His tent was the same as yours, but somehow it seemed much smaller because of the mess that was in it.
Clothes (uniforms) and bags were strewn everywhere, and for some reason he had two sleeping bags.
“I get cold easily!” he whined defensively when you asked him about it.
You smirked. “Aw does little Osc need a hot water bottle to keep him warm at night?” you cooed mockingly.
He rolled his eyes at you and slipped into his sleeping bag to take his pants off without you watching him.
You raised an eyebrow at him questionningly. “Since when are you shy about getting undressed?”
He chuckled “I wouldn't want you to get a glimpse of my banging bod and fall in love with me” he joked.
You scoffed. You'd seen him in his swimwear before and he knew that.
You took your over clothes off in front of him nonchalantly, not bothering to hide yourself given that he had also seen you in swimwear, and he sucked in a breath and quickly looked away.
For a dick, he was being quite a gentleman, and something stirred inside you at that fact. You didn’t know he was capable of being a gentleman.
You slid into your own sleeping bag and sighed in relief, your body fully relaxing for the first time since this afternoon.
You were both lying there, in slightly awkward silence.
You thought back to how quickly Oscar had reacted, and shuddered at the thought of “What if? What if Oscar hadn't been out there at that moment?”
The distress must have shown on your face because Oscar asked “What are you thinking about?”
“Nothing” you replied a bit too quickly, avoiding his gaze that was burning into the side of your face.
“You're a bad liar” he muttered softly, not a hint of joking in his tone.
“You know you're probably going to get a court-martialed when we get back?” your voice trembled as you realised that the thought of not having Oscar around made you sad.
“I doubt that, I was protecting a fellow officer. If anything he's the one who should be getting court-martialed.”
You sighed. In a perfect world.
“That's generally not how these things go, you know? They'll probably find a way to blame me and then I’ll be the one in trouble…”
Oscar rolled over onto his side and stared at you with a serious expression.
“Look at me” he ordered. You turned your head to see a stormy look in his eyes “I will do everything I can to make sure that doesn't happen. And if it does I will quit the army altogether.”
You blinked at him.
“You don't have to do that”
“Of course I do.” He glanced down briefly at your lips. “If I don't who will?”
You felt tears prickle at your eyes again and you gulped down the emotions threatening to spill out.
“Thank you, Oscar” you breathed.
He smiled “No problem”
“No. I mean thank you for earlier… not every man I know would have done what you did”
His eyes softened as he looked at you.
He didn't need to say anything, you both knew it to be true.
You fell into a comfortable silence and you almost drifted off, if it weren’t for the slight movement next to you.
“You okay?” you asked, seeing that Oscar was searching around for his disguarded shirt.
“Yeah, I’m a bit cold so I’m going to put my clothes back on”
You watched him put his shirt on, and you felt sorry for stealing his sleeping bag.
“Well… you know the most effective way to maintain body heat?”
That made him freeze. Of course he knew, it was basic training. The best way to warm up was to share body heat with someone.
“You…” he gulped “You wanna do that?” his eyes met yours. “For me?”
You smiled at him “Sure. It’s the least I can do”
He frowned at that. “I don’t want you to feel like you owe me anything, that’s not why I-”
You shushed him by pressing a finger to his lips. “I know, but I feel bad that you’re cold because of me so I want to help you get warm, simple as that”
Without another word you unzipped your sleeping bag, then his, and zipped them together to essentially form a big sleeping bag for two.
Oscar was a bit red in the face at your sudden proximity to him but he looked mildly impressed. “Ingenious”
You rolled your eyes and lay down on your side with your back to him. “Whatever, now shut up and get over here”
He grumbled something you couldn’t hear and shuffled over to you, his arm hovering awkwardly.
“Can I, uhh- you know, touch you?”
Thank god he couldn’t see your face or he would have seen how you blushed furiously at his words.
You had to scold yourself for your unholy thoughts.
“Of course”
His arm was draped over your middle, and you could feel the heat of his chest almost touching your back, but for some reason he seemed reluctant to press his body to yours, which was the whole point of this.
“Oscar, you do know the concept of spooning, yes?” you giggled, trying to lighten the mood. He mumbled out a ‘yes’.
“Then you know your body needs to be touching mine, yeah? Not just your arm.”
“I uh- I don’t think that’s a good idea right now” he whispered, and his breath on the back of your neck made you shiver.
“Why not? I told you it’s fine, we’re just sharing body heat”
He sighed. “I can’t. I have- uhh, a problem.”
“What problem?”
“You know... A problem that would make it very uncomfortable for both of us to spoon right now”
Your breath hitched. “You mean…”
The silence stretched on and he didn’t say anything.
“You mean you’re… you've got- uhh…”
“Yeah” he breathed. “I’m sorry. I usually … you know, before I go to bed but you’re here, so… yeah”
Your face was burning now. You now had the image of Oscar getting rid of his problem swimming around your head.
“You can deal with it… if you want. I don’t mind. This is your tent.”
His arm twitched where it was lying against you. “No I’m not doing that while you’re here!”
“Why not?” you were feeling emboldened by the obvious stutter in his breathing “It’s a natural bodily response. Nothing to be ashamed of.”
Oscar had to thoroughly recompose himself, before saying something he’d regret.
“No it’s fine, it’ll go away in a minute.”
“Okay, suit yourself” you sighed, closing your eyes and your brain unhelpfully supplied the image of you helping him with his problem.
Neither of you said a word after that, you were both too busy trying to think of something else, anything else, rather than the ache between your respective legs.
It had been a while since you'd been in this close a proximity to a man, especially one as fucking fit as him.
And he was fucking hard. And probably big as well, if the size of his ego was anything to go by.
You felt him shiver behind you.
“Oscar” you turned around so that you were facing him. “It’s not going to go away is it? So either accept it, or get rid of it, but I don’t want you to be cold!”
His eyes were wide as he met your challenging gaze. You didn't know where this brazenness was coming from, maybe it was pure adrenaline, but you turned over again and huffed. “Now get on with it”
A beat passed without a sound, before he started shuffling around.
“You sure you're okay with this?” he asked tentatively.
“Yeah go ahead, pretend I'm not here”
Oscar sighed and reached a hand down over his underwear, giving himself the lightest squeeze. Damn, he was really hard.
“Shit, okay” he said, talking to himself more than anything.
He slid his boxers down enough to free his cock and wrap a hand around his girth.
He bit back a moan.
He was determined to do this quietly, for your sake.
You'd told him to ‘pretend you weren't there’ but that wasn't possible for Oscar in that moment. Firstly because the heat radiating from your body was impossible to ignore, secondly because when he closed his eyes all he could see was you, and all the past dirty fantasies Oscar had had about you when he got himself off.
He'd thought of what it would be like to see you on your knees for him, begging for his cock, or how you'd look bouncing on top of him while he sucked your tits.
He was just a man after all.
And he was so hard it hurt, and he was trying his best to not let any noises slip.
But you could hear the slight movement of his hand against the sleeping bag, and the way his ragged breathing was getting heavier, and then his almost silent whimpers.
And now you were getting turned on.
It's not like he was being loud. By any account it should have been easy to ignore him, but all of your senses seemed to have tuned in to him, and only him.
You could almost see him in yoir mind, lips bitten raw and eyes squeezed shut as he worked his cock frantically, trying to come as fast as possible while you were inches away from him.
The heat between your own legs was becoming unbearable, you needed some kind of relief, so you didn't think twice before sliding a hand into your own underwear.
The first touch against your clit sent an instant wave of relief over your body, so you carried on, sliding a finger through your folds, which were so wet it slipped right in with no resistance.
You flexed your wrist, careful to not make any movements that might alert Oscar to what you were doing.
It was filthy, rubbing one off to your friends sounds, but you couldn't help yourself. You were getting wetter by the minute and the pressure of your palm against your clit just felt so good.
You were biting your lip in an effort to stop the noises coming out of your mouth, and you were doing a better job of it than Oscar, because he was letting out pathetic little whimpers.
“Fuck” he let out a quiet breath, and you almost would have missed it had you not been listening intently.
You clenched involuntarily around your fingers at the sound, and let out a high pitched noise of your own.
He froze, worried that he'd somehow gone too far.
“Shit- sorry… I'll stay quiet I promise”
You let out a breath, not stopping the movement of your hand.
“Oscar”
“Yeah?” he sounded breathless as his head whipped up to look at you.
“Don't stop, fuck-” you were so fucking needy you could feel yourself slowly creeping towards an orgasm.
Oscar's brain stalled as he realised exactly what you were doing, and his cock throbbed at the thought of you getting off to his noises.
“Are you…?” he asked, hand picking up the rhythm, aided by the steady drip of precome leaking from his tip. “Are you touching yourself as well?”
“Yeah… I'm sorry” you whined “You just sound so hot, Osc, couldn't help myself…”
His brain melted at the nickname, and at how fucked-out you sounded already.
“You have no idea how fucking hard I am right now” he groaned in frustration.
“fuck- I need you” you were trembling, you just needed a little extra push to get over the edge.
“Jesus” he gasped “What do you need?”
“Need you inside me, please” you begged so prettily, how could he refuse such a request.
His body finally made contact with yours, and you could feel him against the curve of your ass.
He reached around your body and replaced your hand with his.
“Fucking hell, you're soaked” he grunted as you quickly slid your underwear off and hooked your leg over his hips to pull him closer to you.
You took his cock in your hand and for the first time felt exactly how big he was.
“Fucking hell Oscar” you gasped.
He chuckled and lined himself up with your dripping cunt, rubbing himself through your folds.
“Fuck me Osc, please” he swiftly pushed inside, and the way he stretched you out so perfectly made your brain turn to static as he wasted no time, thrusting in and out of you shallowly.
You turned your head to the side and grabbed his face to join your lips in a messy kiss, panting as he buried himself in you to the base.
You shuddered as his cock kissed your cervix over and over, all the while rubbing your clit in fast tight circles in an effort to make you come before him, both of you being already so close to the edge you could taste it.
Neither of you lasted very long. As soon as you started clenching around him he was a goner, and he came inside you with a punched-out groan of your name while you whined into his mouth.
You were too exhausted to move, so he kept his softening cock inside you, and wrapped his arms around you to hold you tighter.
“Well, I'm not cold anymore, that's for sure…”
You giggled and slapped his arm playfully.
He responded by leaning over you and pressing his lips to yours in a passionate display of emotion that you were too tired to unpack right now, so you just enjoyed the moment, smiling into kiss.
You fell asleep like that, in each other's arms.
When you got back, you discovered that several complaints had been made about your Sergeant, and there was some kind of investigation involving lie detector tests.
He did end up getting arrested, and you were promoted for your troubles, and because you deserved it, of course.
Apparently he was the one that had been preventing you from getting that promotion, on the grounds that you were better off under his supervision, as he put it in his reports.
So you sued, and won, and Oscar was so proud of you he bought you an engagement ring, which he gave to you in Paris, on the Seine, while a accordionist played Careless Whisper behind you.
It was raining fucking buckets, and the accordion sounded dreadful, but to you it was absolutely perfect.
Oscar found it incredibly hot that you were now his superior, and often called you Sir to rile you up.
So naturally, you regularly had sex in your uniforms, because you were both absolute freaks about it.
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resolutions
(logan howlett x reader)
summary: You and Logan attend a New Years party hosted by Wade. With the countdown to midnight, you both get caught up in the moment and share an intimate moment with each other.
word count: 2.4k
author's note: i unironically had a dream about this the other night, so of course i had to share with the class, days earlier than planned. this takes place a year after deadpool & wolverine. enjoy! :>
find it on ao3 here
. . .
New Years was awfully unpredictable for you. Every year seemed to bring a different mix of highs and lows, leaving you wondering whether the holiday was even worth celebrating. This year, you didn’t even plan to—until Wade showed up with an invitation to his apartment against your will, promising the "social event of the decade." Against your better judgment, you agreed, dragging Logan along as your buffer for whatever insanity awaited. After all, how bad could it be?
It turned out, predictably, to be very bad.
The party was chaotic, as expected when Wade was involved. Streamers hung haphazardly from the ceiling, balloons were scattered across the floor, and someone had already popped open a bottle of champagne—two hours early. The stereo blasted a mix of '80s rock and whatever Wade had decided was "party music," which helped to create an unforgettable experience. And not in a good way.
Surrounding the room, couples were unable to keep their hands to themselves, unflatteringly in your direction. One group of friends were drunkenly laughing as they took selfies under a sagging strand of broken lights, while others swayed together to the mismatched beat of Wade’s horrendous playlist. You watched everything unfold, while Dogpool sat on your lap, constantly begging you for more cuddles.
Logan sat on the couch beside you, opening a bottle of beer, his expression a mix of irritation and mild amusement. He never wanted to come, but you’d convinced him. And of course, how could he say no? The promise of decent company and free booze was enough to get him to tag along. And though he wouldn't say it out loud, he also secretly loved spending time with you.
As Wade danced dramatically in the corner among the rest, Logan shot you a look that said, "This is your fault."
You laughed at his expression, your hands still on Dogpool as you nudged his arm.
"Come on, admit it. You’re having a little fun."
Logan raised an eyebrow. "Watching Wade do... whatever the hell that is? Sure, a riot."
"It’s interpretive dance," Wade called out, spinning in a circle before collapsing dramatically onto the floor. "I’m expressing the tragedy of running out of nachos."
Logan rolled his eyes, but the corner of his mouth twitched in a barely there smile. You caught it and grinned.
“Come here, Mary Puppins! Daddy has a surprise for you!” Wade shouted, diving toward you and grabbing Dogpool out of your lap before you could protest.
You blinked, hands still frozen in mid-air. "What the hell, Wade? She’s comfortable!"
Wade cradled Dogpool dramatically, making kissy faces at her. "Oh, but I have something better," he said in a sing-song voice. "A little treat she’ll never forget."
Logan raised an eyebrow from where he sat, grasping onto his beer bottle while watching the scene unfold. "Oh boy.”
You sighed, already knowing this wouldn’t end well. "I swear, if you try to feed her something weird—"
"Don’t worry," Wade interrupted with a grin. “I made her something special, to dedicate my first year with Puppins here, of course.”
"Let me guess," you said, crossing your arms. "You’re feeding her leftover pizza crusts and ranch dressing?"
Wade’s face lit up. "Are you shitting me? I’ve got something way better than that!" With that, he dug into the pocket of his absurdly tight pants and pulled out a tiny, half-melted sandwich. You swore that you could see a tiny bit of mold in it.
"Behold, a hot dog sandwich! You know, for dogs, because they deserve the best."
Logan stared at the sad creation in disbelief. "That’s just a hot dog in a bun. For you."
"Fuck no!" Wade grinned, holding the sandwich up like it was the Holy Grail. "This is an exclusive Dogpool meal—made with delicate care!"
Logan let out a low chuckle as Dogpool tried to squirm free from Wade’s arms, clearly more interested in anything but what her own owner had in store for her.
You grinned at Logan. "It’s a shame. This could have been a bonding moment for the two of them.”
Wade, completely unfazed by Dogpool's lack of enthusiasm, tried to coax her into taking a bite, which ended up with him chasing her around the apartment.
"Come on, sweetie! You can’t say no to this!”
"Guess Dogpool's smarter than all of us," Logan muttered, taking a swig of his beer as Wade continued his one-dog food fight.
You chuckled to yourself as you watched Wade flailing around the place, bumping into others without a care in the world. Logan’s lips curled into a small, satisfied smile, something that only appeared when he knew you were genuinely amused.
"Well, looks like I haven’t completely ruined your night," Logan remarked dryly, leaning back into the couch and taking another sip of his beer. His eyes stayed on you, still holding the faint smile on his face.
You nudged him gently with your elbow. "You’re enjoying this more than you thought you would."
His gaze flickered away for a moment before he gave a small nod, the corner of his mouth twitching again. "Maybe a little," he muttered, clearly not wanting to give you the satisfaction of admitting it outright.
. . .
As the night rolled on, a few more guests trickled in, and the energy of the room continued ebbing and flowing. Wade was missing for a bit, which kept things steady for a while. Logan stayed close to you, content to observe rather than participate. You didn’t mind; his dry commentary on the festivities kept you entertained.
You checked your watch for a moment. It was 11:48 pm. Leaning back in your seat, your eyes drifted back to Logan, wanting to start a conversation amidst the awkward silence.
"So, what’s your resolution?" you asked him as the clock neared midnight.
Logan’s gaze flicked to you. "Don’t do resolutions."
"Why not?"
"What’s the point? People make ‘em and break ‘em in the same week."
"Not everyone," you said. "Some people actually stick to them."
"You?" he asked, tilting his head. "What’s yours?"
You went into thought for a moment. You? A new year's resolution? Every time you’ve attempted to stick with one, it always ended up blowing up in your face. If there was anything you wanted more than anything to succeed in, it would probably be to get with Logan. Of course, the concept of it was foreign, but you fell for him the minute you met him. You knew that under the circumstances of what the two of you have been through, there was no chance you could tell him how you felt, or know if he reciprocated the same way.
But maybe it was time to put that all behind. A new year was approaching after all.
There was a long pause before you responded.
"To... take more risks, I guess."
Logan’s lips quirked. "Risks, huh? Like coming to a party with this crowd?"
"Sure," you said with a laugh. "Your turn."
He shook his head jokingly. “Same as you.”
Before you could press him further, Wade appeared, clapping his hands loudly. "Alright, people! Ten minutes to midnight! Time to get your New Year’s smooch plans in order. No shame in making deals, folks."
Everyone around the room had somebody close to them for the big countdown. It made you glance back at Logan. "You got a lucky someone?"
He gave you a look that made your stomach flip, but he said nothing. Instead, he took another sip of his beer, shaking his head.
A heavy sigh escaped you as you stood up, glancing around one last time. It seemed like nothing was going to change tonight. You made your way towards the kitchen, grabbing a drink to settle the quiet disappointment that had settled in your chest.
. . .
As the countdown began, the room filled with excitement. People paired off, others grabbed sparklers from a box Wade had inexplicably found, and you felt a small pang of awkwardness as you realized you didn’t have a plan for the midnight kiss. You hadn’t thought much of it; you’d figured it wasn’t a big deal.
"Ten!" Wade’s voice boomed over the music, causing the entire room to erupt into excitement.
People cheered and clinked glasses as the countdown began in full force. You could hear the muffled echo of it coming from every direction, but your focus remained on the drink in your hand, the sudden unease gnawing at you.
"Nine!" Wade continued, getting even louder. You shifted uncomfortably, your eyes darting to the couples already pairing up, lips ready for the tradition. It was just a kiss, right? A simple tradition, nothing more. But why did it pang your heart this much?
"Eight!"
The countdown sped on, the crowd growing louder, more energized. Your heart rate picked up in a way you couldn’t explain.
"Seven!"
You turned your head, glancing over your shoulder to the bar, then to the group by the windows, still holding your drink. But your mind was far from the surroundings. You hadn’t planned for this, hadn’t thought much about it until now. The idea of a midnight kiss had always felt trivial before, but tonight it seemed to matter for some reason you couldn’t grasp.
"Six!"
You looked around for something to distract you, anything to break the tension building in your chest. But as your gaze shifted around the room, you realized that Logan had somehow made his way closer to you, inching his way through the crowd, his quiet presence unnoticed by you as you remained lost in your own swirling thoughts.
"Five!"
The countdown ticked on, but your awareness narrowed to just the space between you and Logan. You felt a presence beside you, and for a moment, you didn’t even realize it was him until you looked up—his steady, unreadable eyes meeting yours. The air felt different, and you couldn’t tell if it was just the alcohol or something else entirely.
"Four!"
Logan’s gaze didn’t waver. You felt a flutter of nerves in your stomach, but there was a softness in his eyes that made everything else fade. The crowd continued to cheer, to count down, but all you could hear was the steady beat of your own heart, drowning out the noise.
"Three!"
Logan's hand brushed against yours. Deliberate, yet gentle, and the contact sent a small spark racing up your arm. You couldn’t help but look at him, a question in your eyes. Was this... real?
"Two!"
Logan’s face was in front of you, his hand reaching up to your face, his touch warm and steady against your skin. You couldn’t breathe for a moment, your heart racing at a pace you hadn’t expected. His thumb gently brushed over your cheekbone, a tender gesture that only made everything feel more overwhelming.
The countdown faded into the background as his face inched closer. Your thoughts scrambled, but there was only one certainty you understood. The way Logan was looking at you, the way everything seemed to quiet around you.
You didn’t pull away. You didn’t need to. For the first time that night, you felt grounded.
“One!”
The room erupted in cheers, but all you felt was Logan’s lips on yours. Warm, firm, and completely unexpected. The kiss was brief, but it lingered, a moment suspended in time.
When you pulled back, his eyes searched yours, an expression of quiet uncertainty mingled with something more. His lips were slightly parted, as if he was trying to process the same rush of emotions you were. Neither of you spoke. You simply stood there, close enough to feel each other’s breath, the world around you seeming to slow down even further. His gaze softened, a faint, almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corner of his lips. But he didn’t say anything—not yet.
The noise of the room swirled back into focus, but it felt distant, like a muffled backdrop to what you both were experiencing in that exact moment. Logan’s hand was still resting against your cheek. Warm, like it had always belonged there.
"Didn’t think I’d be here, doing this," Logan muttered under his breath, his eyes still locked onto yours. There was something vulnerable in his voice, and it made your heart beat faster.
Before you could respond, he let out a soft laugh, shaking his head as though trying to dismiss the weight of the moment. "Wade’s probably gonna never let us live this down," he added, the ghost of a grin curling his lips.
You couldn’t help but smile at his attempt to lighten the mood. "You don’t have to worry about him. I’ll take the blame," you said, the tension between you easing slightly.
Logan looked at you, his gaze more serious now, though there was still a glimmer of playfulness in his eyes. "I’m not so sure I mind…”
There was a pause of silence, but neither of you moved.
“Guess this is what happens when I let you talk me into things,” he said, his voice teasing but warm.
You chuckled softly, shaking your head. “I’m not complaining.”
He gave you a half-shrug, a small, hesitant smile pulling at the corner of his lips. " I’ve been thinking about this. Longer than I should’ve."
A mixture of surprise and warmth flooded through you. You could feel your cheeks flush, but the sudden honesty in his words was enough to settle the fluttering nerves in your chest.
"I’ve been thinking about it too," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper, the truth coming out more easily than you'd expected. "Longer than I realized.”
His thumb gently traced the edge of your jaw, a gesture both comforting and intimate, as he let out a smirk.
"Guess we’ve been a little slow on the uptake, huh?"
“Let’s leave that for last year.”
You smiled, a soft, genuine thing, and his gaze softened in return. Neither of you needed to say more. You were here now, standing close, hearts open in a way they hadn’t been before. And maybe that was enough.
As the noise from the crowd picked up again, people shouting and celebrating the turn of the new year, Logan leaned in a little closer, his voice just for you.
“Happy New Year,” he murmured.
"Happy New Year," you replied softly, a small smile tugging at your lips. The rest of the world seemed to fade away again, the cheers and music just background noise.
And you were right where you needed to be.
#logan howlett x reader#wolverine x reader#logan howlett#wolverine#x men#x men imagine#logan howlett imagine#wolverine imagine#reader insert#marvel#marvel imagine#logan x reader#fic#ao3#new year#holiday season#festive#fluff
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BODY DYSMORPHIA
REQUEST: billie being rrly worried about r eating problems?
a/n: before we get into the fic, i just want to remind everyone that your struggles are valid. i understand where you're coming from and i promise you, you're perfect just as you are, inside and out. you don't need to be slim to be beautiful. that's just society's and men's messed up standards. this is just one of many serious & important topics and i want you to know that my messages are always open if you need to vent, talk, or simply have someone listen.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
pairings - concernedgf!billie x insecure!reader
genre - angst, fluff, suggestive
synopsis: struggling with body image and online criticism, you find comfort as billie lovingly supports you and helps you confront your insecurities with understanding and care.
tw: heavy mentions of body dysmorphia & an eating disorder.
word count: 1.1K
you don't have to change you're perfect the way you are
⟡
she's a pretty girl without the filter she looks beautiful with no makeup on
⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆
"How about In-N-Out?"
Wide grins spread across everyone's faces as they nod in agreement, then turn to you, waiting for your response. Your gaze shifts to Finneas in the driver’s seat, then to Claudia in the passenger seat, before skimming over Alex and Zoe on your right, and finally landing on Billie—your girlfriend—seated to your left.
"Oh, uh, I'll actually just skip. I already ate, so I'm full," you say with a casual shrug.
"You sure you don't want something for later?" Billie asks, a soft chuckle escaping her lips as she lightly squeezes your knee. "I know you. You always say you're not hungry, then an hour later, you're begging me to get you something to eat."
You force a smile, shaking your head. "I'm sure."
During the drive to the fast-food joint, you pull out your phone, your lips pressing into a tight frown as you scroll through the comments left by Billie’s fans on her most recent post—some cruel and cutting, others trying to defend you.
quenxbillie4life: what an ugly fatass bitch prob js a gold digger ↳ ronniel0vesbils: do u even KNOW billie? she's struggled sm with body image. have u heard not my responsibility? u have no right to say that abt her gf.
billieeilishnoticeme69: BIG BACK BIG BACK BIG BACK
billybiggestfan: elephants don't deserve to date global stars like billy ↳ ronniel0vesbils: lmao didn't even spell her name right u fake fan😭
billiespitonme: @ronniel0vesbils is legit fighting for her life out here LMFAO
The harsh words sting, and though the supportive replies are there, they feel drowned out by the negativity. You glance out the car window, trying to shake the ache in your chest, but the comments linger like a shadow.
You try to conceal your exhaustion, but it’s hard to ignore the countless nights spent sobbing, curled up with your knees to your chest, rocking back and forth as you desperately pray to wake up with a model’s body the next day.
But it never happens. And each passing day only deepens the growing hatred you feel toward yourself.
Why would Billie ever choose someone like you?
She’s one of the most ethereal-looking women on the planet, effortlessly breathtaking in a way that leaves you in awe. She never seems to have a bad moment, always stunning. Yet somehow, out of everyone, she chose you.
You sit silently, watching everyone enjoy their burgers and sip on their drinks, all the while wishing the ground would open up and swallow you whole. Deep down, you’ve convinced yourself that you’re not even worthy of a good meal—that starving yourself is just the price you have to pay to lose weight.
Your eyes drop to your hands resting in your lap, fingers fidgeting with your nails as a quiet sigh escapes. Slumping further into the seat, you tune out the lively conversations and laughter of your friends, letting the background noise blur into nothingness.
"You okay, baby?"
The gentle voice snaps you out of your thoughts. You hear the jingle of keys being tossed onto the coffee table, followed by soft footsteps padding across the wooden floor. Billie appears in the doorway, leaning against the frame with concern etched across her face. "You were acting a little weird today."
You glance away, offering only a small nod in response, but Billie isn’t convinced. She crosses the room and sits beside you, the mattress dipping under her weight as she exhales softly. Her ring-clad hand comes to rest lightly on your knee.
"You sure?" she presses, her voice tender. "You usually never say no to burgers."
A bitter chuckle slips out before you can stop it, the comment twisting into an unintentional jab at yourself. Are you really such a glutton that even Billie notices the sudden change? The thought stings.
"Yeah," you mutter, your tone tinged with self-deprecation. "That just might be the issue." You roll your eyes at your typical eating habits, the words dripping with sarcasm and frustration.
Billie’s brows knit together, a faint crease forming on her forehead as she shifts closer, tilting her head thoughtfully. “Ah,” she murmurs, her lips pressing into a thin line. “I get it, love. I know how you feel—I’ve been through it.”
Her hand moves up to your arm, fingers tracing gentle, soothing patterns across your skin. “I want you to know I’m here for you. Always. You’re not alone in this, and you never will be.” Her voice is soft but firm, her words wrapping around you like a warm embrace.
“Anything you ever want to tell me, I’m listening. And,” she adds, a small, playful smile tugging at the corner of her mouth, “you can’t be stressing your pretty little head about all this without me being involved, got it?”
Your lips curl into a soft smile, but the harsh, critical thoughts about your appearance still linger, refusing to be silenced.
Billie notices the unease in your expression. Her hand gives your arm a gentle squeeze before she guides you down onto the bed, your back pressing against the sheets and your head cradled by a pillow.
For a moment, your mind races. Really? Sex? Does she think a distraction like this will actually help right now?
Still, you push the thought aside, watching as Billie moves with quiet determination. Her fingers deftly unbutton your jeans, sliding them down your legs and tossing them onto the floor. She shifts her focus to your torso, carefully slipping your shirt over your head, leaving you in just your bra and underwear.
Instinctively, your hands fly to your stomach, trying to cover yourself. Even though Billie has seen you naked countless times, the habit of hiding feels ingrained—an automatic response to the insecurities clawing at you.
Billie is quick to pin your hands gently to your sides, her soft yet firm grip keeping them in place. Her lips brush against your jaw, leaving a trail of warmth as she moves down to your neck, collarbone, and then licks a slow, deliberate stripe down the valley of your breasts.
"Pretty fucking girl," she murmurs, her voice low and filled with adoration. A quiet groan escapes her lips as she shifts lower, her hands gliding across your skin, mapping every inch and curve with reverent care.
"I love you," she says, her words muffled as she presses her lips tenderly against your belly button. "So fucking much, angel. You’re perfect."
Her hands drift to your thighs, squeezing them gently before she peppers a trail of featherlight kisses along their length. “I love every curve, every inch of this gorgeous body,” she whispers, her tone steady and unwavering, as if daring your insecurities to challenge her conviction.
"And that's never, ever going to change."
#Spotify#billie eilish#billie eilish x you#billie eilish fluff#billie eilish angst#billie eilish x fem reader#billie eilish x y/n#billie eilish fic#billie x reader#lesbian#billie eilish fanfiction#hit me hard and soft#billie eilish x reader
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jingle bells
pairing: spencer reid x afab!reader
summary: you surprise your boyfriend, spencer reid, with something very special for christmas.
warnings: 18+ MDNI!! smut, p in v, no foreplay, kissing, pet names (angel, baby), unprotected sex (guys, don't do that unless it's with spencer reid)
wordcount: 1273 words
a/n: so this is inspired by a real pair of victorias secret panties that I saw on tiktok a while ago. i wanted to find a picture or something but couldn't for some reason and now i think it might all have been a figment of my imagination. but who cares, you're here for the smut, i know. i hope you like this christmas fic, even though it is a lil late. enjoy <3
Your boyfriend, Spencer, loved Christmas. Every year he went all out on decorations, listening to Christmas music the second it turned November and reading Christmas stories. Even if Halloween definitely was his favourite holiday, Christmas is a close second.
So, this year you wanted to surprise him with something special. This December was laced with back-to-back cases and even though you two shared a flat, you didn’t see each other a lot. But Christmas rarely came with any cases, so you knew that you would be unbothered, which was perfect for your plan.
You didn’t just surprise him with anything, no, you wanted to surprise him with you. And even though all his other presents were already wrapped and under the tree there was one present (you) that he got to open early. A few weeks ago, when you were shopping for Spencer’s other gifts, you walked by a Victoria’s Secret and in the display, you saw something you knew your boyfriend would love.
A pair of sheer lace panties, adorned at the sides with little bells that made a cute little sound when moved and a matching sheer babydoll top. You knew you had to get this as a little surprise to sweeten up the time leading up to the holiday. And even though, due to Spencer’s tight schedule, you had to move it to actual Christmas, you had to move it onto the actual holiday, you knew he would love it.
So, after Spencer came home on the 23rd of December, you knew what you had to do.
As always, you greeted the profiler with a kiss at the door, helping him out of his coat and asking him about the case. He never gave you too many details, but you still liked hearing about what he was up to. Then you told him to get himself comfortable in the bedroom, as it was already a little later, and disappeared into the bathroom. You already prepared everything and now just had to get changed.
Trying your best not to be too loud with the jingling panties, you put the matching set on and covered it with a robe. You fixed your hair, even though you knew Spencer wouldn’t care much about it once he saw your outfit.
Taking a deep breath, you opened the door, immediately pulling Spencer’s attention away from the books he was reading. He slowly dropped it into his lap, his jaw almost going the same path, when you opened your robe, revealing the lingerie underneath. You slowly let the robe fall off before moving your hips a bit, making the bells jingle.
That seemed to snap your boyfriend out of his stunned silence. He hastily put the book on the nightstand before clearing his throat. “Wow,” was the only thing he got out for a second, “you, uhm- you look amazing, angel.”
“Thank you, Spence,” now walking closer to the bed you could see the blush painting his cheeks. Every movement made the bells clatter, his eyes now moving to your hips. Once you were standing next to him on the bed, he took a hold of them and pulled you onto his hips, your lips finally meeting.
Spencer usually liked to take things slow, but you could feel the urgency in this kiss, all the frustration from not seeing each other now finally releasing. You started to slowly grind against him, already feeling his erection against your pussy.
His hands wander from your hips under your top and onto your soft breasts. When you let out a surprised moan he slips his tongue into your mouth, deepening the kiss.
It doesn’t take long for him to get impatient and take off your top, leaving you only in your panties. Before you could get up to take them off though, Spencer stopped you. “Please keep them on, angel. Want to hear them.”
That was all he said before attacking your neck with wet kisses, trailing down to your collarbone and to your chest. Before he could take his kisses any further, he pulled away.
He placed a quick peck on your lips, before taking your hips in his hands. “I need you to get on your knees for me, please baby.” Oh, when he called you baby like that you knew he was desperate.
“Anything for you, spence.” you told him before returning the favour and placing a long kiss on his lips.
You then moved off his lap, positioning yourself on the bed, so you were leaning your head on your arms, your ass in the air. The pillows under your arms lifted you a bit and you could comfortably turn your head and watch your boyfriend undress. He was already in his pyjamas, so he didn’t take long.
Then he moved behind you, grabbing your ass in his large hands, slowly spreading you apart for him. You wiggled your hips, making the bells jingle again. Ah, so that was why Spencer wanted you in this position.
He gently pulled your panties to the side, revealing your glistening cunt. The moment he told you to get on your knees you knew he wasn’t in the mood for any foreplay today and to be honest, neither were you. You had been apart for so long that it didn’t surprise you when you felt Spencer’s throbbing length gliding through your folds.
Every time his tip rubbed against your hole, you couldn’t help but moan, quiet pleas for more leaving your lips. Spencer complied, his tip now prodding at your entrance. He slowly pushed himself inside of your hole, giving you both time to adjust to the sensation.
Spencer loved the way your warm walls gripped his cock, and you loved how you could feel ever ridge of him against you. Once his hips were flush to your ass, he let one of his hands wander over your back, the gentle touch making goosebumps form all over your body.
After a moment he pulled out almost completely before burying himself inside of you again, the movement triggered the bells, quiet ringing accompanying the sound of skin hitting skin. Spencer continued his movements, slowly speeding up, obsessed with the noises of you and your panties.
The sound of the bells seemed to spur him on, his breath getting almost erratic while he was driving himself in and out of you. His grip moved to your waist as to not silence the noise of the bells.
You could feel yourself getting closer to the edge, your moans growing louder and the calls of his name whinier.
“Fuck, Spencer, I’m so close,” your voice was breathy, but you knew he heard you when he only increased the speed of his thrusts.
“I’m close too baby. Come with me, please. I need you.”
It didn’t take more for you. With a shout of his name you came, your orgasm hitting you hard. Your whole body trembled as you felt Spencer’s cock twitch and release inside of you. His thrust came to a stop, and he slowly let himself lay on top of you, his front connecting to your back.
He pressed his lips to yours, before pulling out of you. You whine at the loss, but Spencer is quick to place another kiss on your lips and wrap his arms around you, pulling you close.
“That was amazing, angel. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, Spencer. Merry Christmas.”
a/n: i hope you liked this, if so please leave some notes, likes, reblogs and comments! feedback is very appreciated! i’d like to write more with criminal minds characters, so if you have any ideas/requests lmk!!
please also consider supporting my ao3: @ softestqueeen
requests open!
taglist: @silvermagnolias@milywatermelon@bigbananaa
#x reader#reader insert#ao3#love#fluff#no y/n#criminal minds#smut#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x reader smut#criminal minds fanfic#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fic#criminal minds fic#spencer reid fluff#mathew gray gubler#mgg#christmas
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Can we talk about how hard Luke would try to be helpful while you’re on your period? I just feel like all of his efforts would be so endearing
oh this is so perfect bc my body decided to give me its own christmas present yesterday 🤩
he would be so attentive, god love him. he’d even have his own tracker on his phone so he can be prepared and make sure he always has your favorites stocked when the time comes.
the second he starts seeing the signs, he’s making your coffee or tea, whichever you prefer, in the mornings and having it waiting on you with your favorite breakfast pastry. on your worst day he’s bringing it to you in bed, heated blanket on his arm.
if he has a day off from practice or gets back early from a morning skate, he’s assuming all housework duties. he’s making sure the kitchen is clean, bringing you your favorite comfort meal from your favorite restaurant, doing the laundry, tidying up the living room. he wants to make sure you don’t have to lift a finger.
he secretly loves when you’re having a rough cramp day, if he’s honest. not because he enjoys seeing you in pain, it’s the opposite really. it breaks his heart that you have to go through this every month, knowing there’s nothing he can do to take the pain away. but he loves how clingy you get, whining every time he gets up to leave the bed or the couch, even if it’s to get something you asked him to get.
he’s constantly calling and texting you to see how you’re feeling and asking if you need anything when he’s not with you. the guys in the locker room all make fun of him for it, but he could care less. it’s the least he can do. you’re constantly taking all of this on every other week of the month, doing all you can to make his life easier, wanting him to come home and be able to relax and focus on resting before or after games. so he’ll gladly take the responsibility on for this one week a month, to show you how much he appreciates you and loves you.
you become such a homebody when you’re on your period and luke eats it up. he loves nothing more than being lazy with you, and he gets at least an entire week of it each month. you refuse any offer of plans, not wanting to have to put on ‘real’ clothes, content with living in one of luke’s oversized shirts, period panties, and a loose pair of his boxers. and luke loves coming home to the sight more than he could ever express.
you love the effort he takes each month to make sure you’re comfortable and cared for. you don’t know how you did it, but you truly hit the jackpot with him. you hear him constantly on the phone with ellen, double checking which painkillers work best for cramps and what the best remedy for period induced headaches. you crawl into a freshly made bed every night, despite rotting on the couch all day. you get baths drawn for you with soothing smells and low light, like either joining you or sitting in the floor with you and telling you all about his day. you have a never ending supply of sweets and baked goods, thanks to his bakery runs every morning.
you always ask him how you can repay him, but he always tells you the same thing. “what you do for me every day is enough. being able to do this for you is repayment in itself. this is what i’m supposed to do. it’s my job to make sure you’re comfortable, taken care of, and loved.”
of course, the words always make your hormonal self emotional, tears falling every time at how much you love him and how lucky you are he loves you. but then he ruins the moment, adding in “plus, the post-period sex is always great, so that’s a good incentive, too.” you swat at him, telling him to shut up.
“i’m just kidding, sweetheart. i love doing this for you, seriously,” he’d back track, nuzzling his face into your neck to place small kisses there.
rolling your eyes, you respond with “you might like doing this for me, but you weren’t kidding, don’t lie.”
he gives you a “welll….” look, making you laugh, forgetting all about the ache in your lower abdomen.
#alliyaps#he’s such a sweetie pie#he can do no wrong#ever#he’d be such the perfect boyfriend i swear to god#hockey#nhl#new jersey devils#luke hughes#luke hughes blurb#luke hughes fanfic#luke hughes oneshot#luke hughes x reader#luke hughes x y/n#luke hughes x you#lh43
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Caracalla in a relationship - sfw/nsfw
Caracalla x younger!reader
warning : smutish (not too graphic), cuddling, kissing, tiny comfort, Caracalla is his own tiny warning
info : Caracalla as sweet as he is is a double-edged sword on the one hand gentle and playful on the other obsessive and possessive now i hope you enjoy reading ;) There will be also one with an older!reader
masterlist
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SFW
°From the moment it became clear that he and his brother needed an heir, Caracalla also had to choose a wife, a bride from the surrounding areas, one that made the most political sense. Even though his interests lay elsewhere and he had gotten into arguments with his brother, even in his lucid moments he had to realize that Geta was right, ,,Then help me find my wife, brother” he had asked him, let go of Dundus and knew that even his madness could not last forever, that in the moments when he was in charge, he had to take responsibility, as awful as it may seem.
A responsibility he searched through for weeks, from mosaic pictures to written letters to the day they had parties organized and invited all the princesses and daughters who had royal blood to show, ,,We've been sitting here for hours now, are you even paying attention?” he hardly noticed his brother's question. Hours had passed since the party and everything still seemed to have made no progress until the blue eyes found something furry in the crowd, rising wordlessly the blond walked through the crowd with a curious look. Ignoring the guests, almost shoving them aside, he found himself in the room with her, pretty and delicate, a look of joy and on her lap a tiger cub, ,,What's his name?” Caracalla wanted to know and knelt down to her.
°With this question, two animals and coins flowing, the emperor had apparently found his wife. Although only a little younger, this seemed to suit the emperor more, the joy and energy he had during his fits seemed to be well controlled by his wife, ,,Sometimes he's a playful, brutal child just to be my husband again, but I love him just the way he is, believe me Geta,” she assured her brother-in-law. She knew how important his brother was to Geta and tried to fulfill this role as best she could, starting with the morning make-up, which usually ended in a laughing embrace and Caracalla giving her a kiss on the cheek.
°Especially the cuddling and the short kisses seemed to calm Caracalla down when something didn't go the way he wanted it to. Whether it was during a defeat in the Colosseum, at a party when the music wasn't right or even when Dundus didn't listen to him, ,,We'll manage, I promise," she always said and her hand slid to his, her smile lighting him up before he gave her a short but heartfelt kiss, giggling when his make-up stuck to her skin only to wipe it away somewhat clumsily with his toga. But as long as he smiled and she had him, they would manage any of his fits together.
°His hand wouldn't leave hers, no matter if it was at breakfast, where they often played with the food and fed Dundus, which Geta let pass with a small smile. ,,I have a surprise today at the Coloseum,” Caracalla said, sharing her joy and curiosity as they entered the Coloseum together, the inhabitants celebrating the empress and sharing her love of animal fights. A fight in which she clung to Caracalla who clung to her as they let tigers into the ring, ,,You will win my pretty cats!” she shouted and not only Caracalla but also the spectators joined in as the feline predators attacked the gladiators. There were little surprises of new collars for her pet or she gave Caracalla a little new dress for Dundus it was a level on which the two got along by day as well as by night...
NSFW
°They loved each other that was out of the question, above all the how, when and where was something that set Caracalla apart from his brother. As much as he lost himself in his mind, lost himself too much in the madness, the more he needed his wife with him, on him and above all in his bedchamber. When torches illuminate the two of them, Caracalla not only wants to be entertained, he also wants to enjoy earthly pleasures together with his wife. With sweet grapes and a little wine, which is all just a little hesitation of the big picture before his hands lay on her and the first thing he does is to undress her, ,,You're even more beautiful without it!" he chuckled and looked at her body in front of him as if spellbound.
°Even though she was only a little younger than him, he took his role and especially his power seriously on nights like this, ,,Trust your emperor, it'll be fun,” he promised before kissing his way down her body, even though there was always a smile on his lips, there was a look of lust in his eyes, a silent desire for her and no one else. She was his and not his brother's, she was his alone and no one else's, a thing he made clear to her with every kiss that turned into a little bite, every little bite marring her skin and turning him on more and more when he saw what he had done to her.
°Caracalla is someone who needs entertainment, whether it's new games in the coloseum or new methods in the bedroom, everything that amuses the blond needs to be played out. He won't stop in the bedroom either, demanding to try it out rather than responding to his wife, ,,You'll look beautiful with the rope like my prey,” he announced, holding out the rope and showing her the parchments with various pictures and instructions. Whether of ropes his blue eyes looked fascinated as her body was wrapped with it, as the marks remained on her skin and he kissed her, knowing that he could always push her a little further because in the end he was still the Emperor of Rome and she his wife.
°Up to daggers and blood, he would try anything. Watching the blade press against her naked body a little harder and harder, watching her skin break slightly as her hips pushed harder against hers, “Beautiful!“ he groaned and her whimpers were drowned in his licking as he experienced his coloseum tears, the desire finally soothing, finally feeling the blood on his hands as he stroked the wounds, as he bit her and heard her sweet sounds, it was like music to his ears, the best concert, the best entertainment his beloved wife could give him.
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@cottoncandiescupcakes , @k-yurieee , @qardasngan , @somepallings , @songbirdmunson , @sweeteststing
#gladiator ii#gladiator 2#emperor caracalla x reader#emperor caracalla#caracalla x reader#emperor geta#male x female#reader is female
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