#wanted to make this over the holidays but then i was sick the whole time and not up to it ;w; oh well
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Na'vi Stripes Tutorial!
Tagging @eywaschild891, in case you were still interested in this! (note: this tutorial is about the digital process of adding the stripes, not actually designing the patterns)
I'm using MediBang Paint Pro, but this technique should work in any program that supports layers.
So you've drawn your Na'vi and now you want to add some stripes! First we'll have to start with a base color. Underneath your lineart layer, add two new layers: one as the main base color layer (for coloring hair, eyes, clothes, etc), and on top of that, a separate layer for the skin. Putting the skin on a separate layer is important because that way you'll be able to do the stripes as a clipping mask.
Your layer box should look something like this (you can ignore the gray background and extra folder, they're not important for this tutorial):
Now we can start on the base stripe layer. Create a new layer and set it as a clipping mask on your skin layer. This makes it so that you can't "color outside the lines", so to speak, while drawing the stripes. Then take a hard-edged brush and start drawing the patterns you want. I like to use MediBang's "mapping pen", which has a subtly textured edge, but the regular default Pen tool will work perfectly fine as well.
If you'd like, you can stop here and call this done: solid stripes are perfectly acceptable in a cartoonified stylization. However, if you look closely at Na'vi stripes on canon characters, you'll note that they're not completely solid: they have a subtle fading effect, where they're darker along the edges and a bit lighter in the middle, and in some places they fade out into the body. Sometimes it almost looks watercolor-ish.
(I'm sure there are better examples out there than these but I'm not up to digging for them rn 😅)
So, let's continue! To fade our stripes, create another clipping mask layer above the main stripe layer. Use a brush with pressure-based opacity such as MediBang's "pencil" to loosely fill the insides of the stripes with the base skin color.
Once you have filled in all the stripes, use the gaussian blur filter to smooth out the fade. The filter doesn't need to be super strong—in fact, if you make it too strong you will loose the detail and the stripes will look solid again. With MediBang's version of the tool, I had it set to 7 (out of a max of 64) for this image, though of course the way it works may be different in other programs; mess around with different settings until you get something you like.
(sadly I do not have a screenshot of the blurred version because apparently the way my cintiq takes screenshots is dumb; it only captured the "gaussian blur" popup window instead of the whole screen. oh well. :P)
Now that we have the fade within the stripes, let's also make them fade into the rest of the body. The areas you'll want to do this with are the torso, inner arms, and inner/back of legs.
Create another clipping mask. Using the same pressure-opacity brush and base skin color as before, loosely block in where you want the stripes to fade into the body.
Once you've finished, gaussian blur the layer just like before. This one can be a little stronger than the inside-stripe one. For this image I had it set to 14.
Sometimes, the areas you block out will overlap with areas that shouldn't be faded—for example, here the fading from the back of the character's thigh is overlapping with her tail. To fix this, just erase it to remove the fade from where it shouldn't be (this is why we do this step on separate layers). Make sure you do this erasing after you've applied the gaussian blur.
Depending on the pose of your character, there may be places where one faded area overlaps with another. For example, in this drawing, the blocking for the arm fading overlaps with the blocking for the torso fading. Here it is with the torso fading turned off so you can see the overlap:
This makes it difficult to do both the arm and the torso on the same layer, because I won't be able to remove where the arm fading overlaps the torso fading without also removing the actual torso fading.
Luckily, there's a simple fix: just do the arm fading on a separate layer. Do this as many times with as many layers as you need to for your particular pose. Sometimes you'll only need one or two, like here; other times you'll need several.
BUT, fading the stripes is the last step! Regardless of how many layers you end up needing, once you're done, you're done! Now you have a Na'vi with nice natural-looking striping 😸
At this point you can go ahead and merge all the clipping masks into the main skin layer and even merge the skin layer with the other-base-colors layer if you're ready!
Hopefully that wasn't too hard to follow; feel free to ask if anything is confusing or unclear. Happy drawing! 😸
#avatar#avatar 2009#way of water#na'vi#na'vi oc#my art#tutorial#yes i draw every stripe individually yes it takes a long time 😭#anyways...#wanted to make this over the holidays but then i was sick the whole time and not up to it ;w; oh well#i suppose this is also technically a preview for a new ref sheet though 👀#i have made some changes to my sona's design since making her current ref so it was in need of an update#they're not *major* changes or anything; just some minor adjustments to outfits and stripe+sanhì patterns#but enough to want a new ref#so 👀
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Oh little people in my phone, we're really in it now 😔😔
#it's lay on my bed yell into mattress hours#I can't tell if I'm reasonably stressed. over stimulated. or emotionally heightened because of the steroid I am on. but#today has been too many things and I feel.#sooooooo done#so done with everything#it raining and I haven't seen the sun in ages. I have bronchitis and haven't been Not Sick in a whole ass month#I have so many things to get done before Christmas which is IN A WEEK JESUS CHRIST#my CAR isn't drivable which SUCKS and it needs new TIRES and probably very expensive ENGINE REPAIRS and#my dad says he can fix them but I still have to take it into the shop just to make sure we know for sure what the problem is but#the it's already going to be in the shop and HES SICK and also like. busy. and doesn't have time to fix car#and so I might as well just pay out the fucking wazooo for them to fix it#but idk how long that will take#and I'm borrowing my grandmas car which is GREAT! like I'm so grateful to have that as an option but also! I feel BAD because it's her car#and she does actually use it and like. I don't want to take that away from her for too long#because then I feel BURDENSOME#and my mom just told me that one of my relatives just passed away and I didn't know her too well but her mom ALSO died last year like#On Christmas Day like very traumatically and I feel soo soo bad for all my cousins who have basically just had the entire Christmas season#ruined for them because they will have lost their mom AND their grandma around that time#and that HORRIBLE like oh my godddddd#and like#this holiday seasons is feeling very weird and different and worse and not BAD But like many things have changed this year and as someone#who does NOT enjoy little changes in routine and appreciates tradition uh. hehe the lines are blurring and it's stressing me outtttttt#and I got home and I had to pee and I look like shit because I've been running around all day#only to realize I left my keys Inside The House and my roomate had locked the door when he went to the gym and#thankfully the gym is a stones throw away from our house but he wasn't answering his phone#so I had to GO THERE. THROUGH THE RAIN. looking like the amount of tired and done that I am. and walk into the gym that is naturally PACKED#because it's right after work. and do the walk of shame past the v friendly gym owner who I haven't seen in MONTJ because I've been SICK#and haven't been able to work out which i ALSO FEEL GUILTY AND BAD ABOUT and#walked past all the Busy Fit Gym People in my normal person clothes to the very back where my roomate was and stand there while he finishes#his silly little reps to get his keys from him
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this time of year
pairing: friend!steve rogers x female reader
summary: you've kept your feelings for your friend, steve rogers, quiet for years—but when you're at the holiday market with your whole group of friends, some things come to light, and you don't think you can keep pretending you don't desperately want him anymore.
warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), fluff, light angst, smut, oral sex (m and f receiving), piv sex, protection, fingering (f receiving), nipple play, multiple orgasms, kissing, making out, dirty talk, praise kink, pet names (sunshine), aftercare, happily ever after—this is probably the most vanilla sex i've written in a while but it's still porn with feelings.
word count: 11.9k
a/n: my first entry for @the-slumberparty's december daze challenge, and it's technically still december 1 where i live (just barely)!!! i used the prompt "Can I put my cold hands up your sweater for warmth?" and had an idea i really liked and just ran with it! i promise most of my december fics won't be 10k+ words—mainly because i don't think i'd survive it 😅 but i hope y'all enjoy this soft and sweet and smutty start to december!! ♡
december daze challenge masterlist
Teasing tingles of chill danced across your skin as the crisp December wind brushed against your cheeks, making you huddle deeper into the warmth of your winter coat. You pushed your hands deeper into your pockets, but it didn’t do much. You’d forgotten your mittens, and your fingers felt nearly frozen.
It didn’t help that you and your friends had been meandering through one of the city’s holiday market for more than a few hours, the cold of the evening sinking deep into your bones. Unfortunately, there were only so many cups of hot chocolate one person could consume before they made themselves sick, and you’d reached that limit.
Still, you were having fun—too much fun to complain about the cold or to try to beg off early. That was why you smiled as you watched your best friend, Yelena Belova, duck into one of the market stalls, her green eyes going wide as they raked over the vendor’s display of knives.
You trailed a little slowly behind the rest of your friends—Natasha Romanoff, Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers—beneath the pop-up tent, distracted by the chill in your fingers as you rubbed them against your body through the material of your coat, trying to get them warm.
The wintry wind cut through the market again and, despite the trembling of your body, you smiled as you breathed in the scent of it. Beneath the pine smell from the evergreen trees being sold at the big tent near the entrance and the swirling richness of buttery baked goods, there was a fresh scent that made you turn your face upward.
Gray clouds were rolling in overhead, blotting out the deep navy of the evening sky, and you knew, deep in your bones, that it was going to snow. A smile curled the edges of your lips and you let your eyes fall closed as you breathed in that fresh scent of oncoming snow.
You loved this time of year because you loved the snow.
Everything about it conjured up memories of sitting by a crackling fire, wrapped in a cozy blanket, watching the beautiful flakes fall from the sky and dust everything in a perfect wintry cloak. You could spend hours sitting by a window, watching the snow come down, and you were suddenly looking forward to doing just that once you got home that evening.
When you finally opened your eyes and turned away from the sky, you found Steve lingering in the entrance of the tent where your friends were browsing, an intensity in his gaze as he looked at you. He didn’t look away when you caught him staring, simply held your gaze, letting you see the heat swirling in the depths of his bright blue eyes.
That heat had begun appearing in Steve’s eyes more and more when he looked at you, and you knew it had started after a certain night at the bar your friends frequented a few weeks prior. But you’d been determinedly ignoring that look in Steve’s eyes ever since that night—just like you’d been ignoring what exactly had happened between the two of you.
As fast as the memory of that night sprang to mind, you shoved it aside, reminding yourself that there was no use in dredging it up. What you and Steve had done that night had the potential to ruin all of your relationships, and no matter how much you might’ve wanted reenact the night at the bar, your friend group was too important to you to risk it.
Even after years of knowing them, you still felt like your addition to the group was precarious because you’d joined so much later. Steve, Bucky, Nat and Yelena had all known each other since they were teenagers, and you’d only met them in your early twenties. You’d sat near Yelena at your first job after college, and it had been best friends at first sight—or, at first snarky comment, anyway.
She’d adopted you as her best friend and introduced you to the others since you were new to the city and didn’t know anyone. You’d liked Steve from the moment you met him, but you’d kept a tight lid on your crush since you were more concerned about fitting into the group as seamlessly as possible, and you figured following your feelings would unnecessarily rock the boat.
Still, despite your intention of taking your crush on Steve to your grave, you couldn’t ignore the way he’d grown into himself as you all had gotten older.
Gone was the boy-next-door blond hair and clean-shaven face of the man you’d first met. Steve’s hair had darkened and he’d recently let it grow long enough that it was beginning to curl at the nape of his neck. He’d also grown out his beard, keeping it thick but neatly trimmed.
Steve had also, somewhere along the way, learned how to dress his tall form—and do it well.
That night at the holiday market, he’d worn light gray slacks, a dark charcoal sweater that you desperately wanted to rub your cheek against to see if it was as soft as it looked, and a black wool overcoat. It was an outfit that had you nearly drooling when you’d met up with your friends, unable to tear your eyes away from how Steve’s broad shoulders and trim waist filled out the clothes.
Despite the chill of the evening, Steve hadn’t seemed the least bit cold, and you’d caught yourself thinking more than once how warm it would feel to be wrapped up in his strong arms. Your fingers would never have gotten so miserably frozen if you’d snuck them beneath Steve’s coat or in his pockets…
With a start, you realized you’d been staring back at Steve for a long, lingering moment, and heat bloomed in your cheeks. You didn’t want him to get the wrong idea—though, at that moment, you were struggling to figure out what exactly the wrong idea was—so you ducked your head and pretended like you were bundling deeper into your coat as you made to move past him into the tent.
“Are you alright, sunshine?” Steve asked as you passed him, his hand landing gently on your arm. Even through your coat, you could feel the warmth of his touch; it made you pause and glance up at him.
You realized your mistake immediately. You were too close to Steve—far too close. So close you could smell the rich, masculine scent of his cologne and feel the heat radiating off his body. It made you want to bury your face in his neck and inhale deeply, to wrap yourself up in his warmth until your bones didn’t even remember what the cold felt like.
“I-I’m ok,” you said in a shaky voice, more rattled by Steve’s closeness than the December wind cutting through the city, and you dropped your gaze to the gold pendant around his neck.
It glinted in the soft light of the market stall, and you remembered it had been a gift from his Irish Catholic mother. You used the memory of Steve telling you about the pendant to ground yourself and your voice came out stronger.
“Just cold.”
“D’you want some more hot chocolate?” Steve asked, and there was a hopeful note in his tone, like he was offering to get it for you, but you were quick to shake your head.
“Any more and I think my body will be more hot chocolate than water,” you joked, trying to ignore the emotions swirling in your chest like snowflakes on a wintry gale.
When Steve chuckled, you couldn’t help but look back up at him, finding his blue eyes sparkling as he gazed down at you, affection clear in the lines of his face.
Slowly, his smile eased into something else—something heavier, an expression that was almost yearning. It made the fluttering flakes in your chest swirl more frenziedly while a warmth bloomed somewhere lower, throbbing more to life the longer Steve looked at you with those darkened blue eyes. His expression spoke of things you’d never dare give voice to.
For another long moment, you and Steve just stared at each other, standing too close just inside the canopy of the vendor at the holiday market. A tension you refused to acknowledge crackled in the air around you.
Of their own volition, your eyes dropped to Steve’s mouth, his lower lip looking so soft and pink amid the dark brown of his beard. For what felt like the millionth time in the last few weeks, ever since that night at the bar, you imagined kissing him—how soft his mouth would be, how warm and inviting, and the feel of his rough beard rasping over your cheeks.
“Hey Steve, c’mere!”
Natasha’s call finally broke the spell that had fallen over you and Steve, and you jumped back, only in that moment realizing how close you’d been. Close enough that when you ducked your head and turned away from him, making your way over to Yelena and Bucky, that you missed Steve’s warmth almost immediately.
You let out a shaky breath, trying to ease the tension and whirling emotions in your chest, and slid between your friends, who were still looking at the knives on sale. Looping one arm through Yelena’s, you rested your head against Bucky’s shoulder, taking comfort in your friends’ warmth, even if it wasn’t as soothing as Steve’s had been.
“Both of you already have too many knives,” you said by way of a greeting. Your comment made both of them snort derisively, which made you smirk since it had been your intention to get a reaction out of them.
“There’s no such thing,” Yelena scoffed, tearing her eyes away from a double-edged dagger with an engraved handle to glance sideways at you. Her gaze met yours and then slid over your shoulder.
You followed it to where Natasha and Steve’s heads were ducked together. They were standing near a display of jewelry and you figured Nat was helping Steve pick out a Christmas present for someone, though you couldn’t think of who. You frowned.
“When are you going to put him out of his misery?”
Bucky’s gruff question drew you out of your thoughts of trying to remember someone in Steve’s life who he might be buying jewelry for, and you looked at your friend. Without even seeing your reflection, you knew confusion was written plainly across your face.
“What?” you asked, a little sharper than you’d intended, but you didn’t appreciate the implication that you were making Steve miserable.
Bucky cut his eyes to you, then slid them to Yelena, giving your best friend a pointed look. You spun your head around to your other side in time to watch Yelena’s mouth flatten into a reproachful frown.
Suddenly, you got the distinct impression that your friends were having an argument about you, though you couldn’t even begin to wonder what it could be about, except that it had something to do with Steve.
It took a moment of silent arguing before Yelena and Bucky seemed to come to an agreement. Yelena looked at you, a gentle expression on her face that made your stomach drop with anxiety—which only worsened when she put her free hand on your arm that was still looped through hers.
However, before she could voice whatever bad news she clearly had to tell you, Bucky cut in.
“You know no one would be upset if you and Steve dated, right?” he asked bluntly, his eyes intense and searching when you turned to look at him. “We all know you like each other.”
If you’d been drinking hot chocolate at that moment, you would’ve spit it out all over Bucky and the display of pretty decorative knives.
Thankfully, you weren’t. But you still managed to sputter and open your mouth repeatedly while you searched for the words to address the preposterousness of Bucky’s statement.
“I do not—”
Whatever weak protest you were going to utter was cut short when Yelena blurted, “We know you kissed.”
Sucking in a sharp breath, the snowflakes that had been fluttering in your chest when you’d been standing with Steve sharpened into icy daggers of unease. You whirled on your best friend. “Pardon?”
“I saw you guys at the bar that night—I went back to get my scarf…” Yelena explained quickly, having the good grace to look apologetic, both for what she’d seen and for bringing it up. “I know you’ve liked Steve for ages, even if you haven’t said anything,” she rushed on, as if she thought if she spoke fast enough, it would make it easier to hear. “I was so excited it was finally happening that I blurted it out to Nat and she told Bucky—we were just so happy for you both.”
You floundered again, your mouth opening and closing as you processed your best friend’s words. It was almost too much to take in. Not only did everyone know what had happened between you and Steve that night at the bar, but it hadn’t changed anything. You’d told yourself for years that nothing could happen between you and Steve because it would throw off the whole balance of the group, but something had happened and it hadn’t done anything.
“I—”
Again, you were cut off, though it was seemingly Bucky’s turn, and your head swiveled back to him on your other side, feeling a bit like a broken bobblehead.
“He’s liked you too, for what it’s worth,” Bucky said. Your face must’ve conveyed disbelief because he went on. “He’s been talking about you since Yelena first introduced you to everyone, but he didn’t know how you felt,” he said, cutting his eyes to Yelena with the barest hint of a glare, “and didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
Hearing that Steve liked you was officially too much for you to bear. The dawning realization that you could’ve been with Steve without risking your friendships with Yelena, Bucky and Nat was like a yawning, desolate chasm waiting to swallow you whole. You’d lost so much time because you were so afraid of losing them all, and it hurt—it hurt enough that it took you a moment to realize Yelena was talking again.
“We thought someone had finally made a move, but then you guys were pretending like nothing happened,” she was saying, and you turned back to her, your mind so overwhelmed that you no longer felt cold, only numb. “None of us wanted to bring it up because, y’know, I wasn’t supposed to have seen it.” She shot you an apologetic grimace before plowing on, her expression turning gentle again. “You know we’d never stop being your friends, even if something happened with you and Steve, right?”
Your heart was racing, the fear of change quickly eclipsing the fear of losing any more time with Steve. You’d been friends with Yelena, Bucky, Nat and Steve for so long that you couldn’t even imagine what it would be like if the two of you started dating—let alone what might happen if you broke up. Shaking your head, you refused to acknowledge Yelena’s assurance. Even if they’d still be friends with you, nothing would be the same.
“Nothing happened,” you said vehemently, even as you choked on the words, the lie tasting like ash on your tongue. But you couldn’t seem to stop. “We were drunk, it meant nothing.”
But then Bucky—blunt, too-perceptive Bucky—broke into your thoughts and pulled you up short with another simple question.
“Are you sure about that?” he asked, his tone not unkind.
You opened your mouth to snap a quick answer, but the ‘yes’ died in your throat. Because of course something had happened, and of course it meant everything.
For the first time in weeks, you gave yourself permission to remember that night.
You’d tried to forget it—forget the softness of Steve’s lips on yours, forget the heat of his tongue as it slipped into your mouth, forget the pleasant scrape of his beard against your skin and the gentle way he’d held your face as he deepened the kiss.
Your first kiss with Steve Rogers had been glorious and messy and too short and too perfect—and it had meant everything to you.
But then you remembered what had happened after, the way you’d pulled away, even though you’d been the one to initiate the kiss in the first place, and panicked as soon as your mind had caught up with what you’d done.
The rest of the memory was a blur, the anxiety of the moment softening the edges, but you distinctly remembered extricating yourself from Steve—which had felt a little like cutting off a limb—before telling him it was a mistake and it couldn’t happen again.
Back at the market, you buried your face in your hands, and almost sobbed at the memory. “I’ve already ruined things,” you mumbled miserably into your frozen fingers, squeezing your eyes shut to keep the tears at bay.
Bucky made a humming noise, as if he was considering your words. “Whatever happened between you two, it hasn’t changed Steve’s feelings for you,” he said, squeezing your wrist gently until you looked at him. He stared at you for a long moment, making sure you heard him. “So my question stands: When are you going to put him—and yourself—out of this misery?”
Your friends let you sit with that question for a silent moment, then Yelena selected one of the knives, claiming it was an early Christmas present for herself and made her way over to the checkout.
Steve was also apparently buying something, accepting a small wrapped package from the cashier that he slipped into his pocket. You were too overwhelmed by your thoughts to be curious about it anymore though.
You stood with Bucky near the entrance to the tent, waiting for your friends to finish their transactions while your mind swirled. You were grateful to your friend for leaving you alone with your thoughts, though you knew it was only because Bucky was confident he’d made his point.
And he had. Oh how he had.
Your mind and heart were a mess. You’d spent so many years telling yourself that you could never let anyone catch on about your feelings for Steve, because if they did, it would lead to the end of the friend group. But they’d all known for weeks, and nothing had changed.
Well, nothing except apparently Bucky and Yelena had taken it upon themselves to play matchmaker. And you wouldn’t have been surprised if Natasha had been in on the ploy as well, distracting Steve purposefully so Yelena and Bucky could ambush you.
Still, you couldn’t fully silence the tiny voice of fear deep in your heart that insisted that if you and Steve got together, and things ended badly, you’d lose all your friends.
The rest of the group had known each other for so long and it had been more than a little daunting to figure out where you fit. Adding a romantic relationship into the mix seemed like a recipe for disaster—and if it ended so badly that everyone was forced to choose sides, you couldn’t imagine them choosing yours when they’d known Steve so much longer.
But as you watched Yelena finish paying for the knife, her words about always being your friend came back to you. She was your best friend—and you were hers. As if proving the point, she caught your eye and smiled impishly as she caught up with you, linking her arm through yours and tugging you back out into the market.
In that moment, something settled in you. Without fully realizing it, you’d always been a little insecure in your group of friends, always worried they would kick you out at the smallest infraction. But Yelena had said it plainly—they’d always be your friends, and you owed it to them to believe her, to trust her, because that was what friendship was.
That was what you had to do to have any kind of meaningful relationship.
As your group of friends wandered further down the row of stalls at the holiday market, you couldn’t help the way your eyes kept straying to Steve. Each time, you found him either looking at you already, or glancing your way within seconds, like he could feel your gaze.
When you looked at him, really looked at him, you noticed a little bit of hurt in his eyes. There was only a hint of it, like he was trying to hide it from you and everyone elese, but you could see it.
You wondered, briefly, how you’d missed it, but a part of you knew you’d been seeing it since that night at the bar. You’d just been ignoring it along with everything else swirling in his gaze.
“When are you going to put him out of his misery?”
You’d known you were making yourself miserable—of course you had. But the realization that you were making Steve miserable, even as he made a valiant effort to hide it, was what finally made your decision for you about what to do with everything Bucky and Yelena had told you.
No matter how scared you were that things might end badly, and you’d end up getting your heart broken and lose all your friends, you had to trust them when they said they’d always be there for you. You had to trust that Steve knew what he wanted—and that what he wanted was you.
The group came to another stop when Bucky spotted a specialty chocolate vendor and he ducked inside. Nat and Yelena followed him in—the latter giving you a meaningful look as you trailed behind before cutting her eyes to Steve. The message was clear and you nodded, giving her a playful shove that made your best friend cackle as she followed Bucky and Nat.
You stepped toward Steve where he hovered just outside the tent, and he shot you a knowing smile when he caught your eye.
“Still feeling like you’ve had enough chocolate?” he asked in a friendly tone, referencing your earlier joke. His beard twitched like he was trying to hold back a smile and it warmed your heart that he not only remembered the joke, but still found it funny.
The side of your mouth curved up in a lopsided grin, and you inched a tiny bit closer, just barely stepping into Steve’s personal space as you looked up at him.
“Yeah, I’ve had my fill,” you said, keeping your tone light. You took on a considering expression, tipping your head to the side and tapping a finger to your chin as if you were thinking. “For tonight, at least.”
Both of you laughed, but the December wind cut through the holiday market just then, and it reminded you of how cold your fingers were, especially out in the open. You quickly shoved your hand deep into the pocket of your coat, and Steve didn’t miss the movement, drifting even closer to you.
“Do you have any gloves, sunshine?” he asked in a low, rumbly voice that had warm tingles of delight dancing down your spine, all the way to your toes.
“No,” you said, shaking your head. Steve had moved close enough that you had to tip your head back to keep looking up at him, and you could feel the heat radiating off his larger body.
His blue eyes were sparkling in the warm, golden light of the market, and you could see the swirl of emotion in their depths that was only there when he looked at you. But there was a crease of concern between his brows, too, and you knew he was seconds away from offering to find you some gloves—or something else that would be chivalrous and perfectly friendly.
You realized, very suddenly, that if anything was going to happen between you and Steve, anything like what had happened at the bar, you needed to make the first move. Bucky had said Steve had been worried about making you uncomfortable before that night, and you were certain it had only worsened after the kiss you’d shared.
So, before he could say anything, you blurted the first thing that came to mind.
“Can I put my cold hands up your sweater for warmth?”
Steve’s brows lifted in surprise, and you had to bite your lip to keep yourself from trying to take the words back as soon as they’d slipped out of your mouth. And you were glad you did, because as the moment stretched on, and Steve realized you were serious, his brows lowered and his blue eyes darkened with interest.
“Ya sure about that, sunshine?” he asked, his voice low enough that you knew it was meant for only you. He ducked his head slightly, so he was nearly at your eye level, and held your gaze. “I wouldn’t want you doing anything you might regret.”
The words stung a little, but you knew you deserved them, especially after you’d told Steve that kissing him had been a mistake. So you held his gaze and stepped even closer to him, until there was barely any space left between your bodies.
“I’m sure,” you said firmly, letting Steve see the honesty in your open expression. “I know what I’m doing and I—this is what I want.” You were proud of yourself for only stumbling once, and held your breath as you waited for Steve’s response.
The corners of Steve’s mouth flickered in an eager grin, but he wiped the expression away, like he was worried that if he appeared too excited, he’d scare you away. You felt a pang of regret, and it doubled your determination to show Steve that you weren’t going to panic and run away again.
Pulling your hands from your pockets, you brushed your fingertips against Steve’s stomach in a silent reminder of your question.
“Can I?” you asked, your voice breathless with anticipation.
“Yeah,” he rasped, his eyes molten with heat as he stared down at you. “Go ‘head, sunshine.”
You were cold enough that you didn’t waste any more time, slipping your fingers beneath the hem of Steve’s soft sweater and pressing your frigid fingertips to the warm, smooth skin you found.
“Fuck, your fingers are freezing,” Steve rumbled, the muscles of his abs contracting beneath your touch like they were trying flee. But before you could apologize and pull away, Steve’s hands flattened over yours outside his sweater, pressing your palms against the hard-packed plane of his abs. “Good thing ya got me to keep you warm, sunshine,” he teased, his voice so full of charm that you melted into him.
“Yeah, good thing,” you echoed in a whisper, the edges of your mouth curling up into a pleased smile. You shimmied closer to Steve, watching the way his blue eyes sparkled with affection as he held your gaze captive.
He wrapped you up against him, holding you in the loose cage of his warms while your fingertips stroked idly against his smooth skin. You wanted to let them wander further beneath his sweater and explore the wonders of Steve’s bare chest, but you managed to keep the urge in check since you were in public—though it was a near thing.
“You know what I like to do most in the winter?” you asked Steve, breaking the comfortable silence that had fallen over the two of you. The sounds of the market all around you were a distant soundtrack.
“What?” he asked indulgently, squeezing you slightly in his arms.
“Curl up in bed and snuggle on a snowy day,” you said with a sly smile. And then, as if a thought had just occurred to you, you tilted your head to the side. “Hey, is your bed comfy? Do you have a lot of nice warm blankets and good pillows?”
A grin pulled across Steve’s face even though he was fighting it, trying to look like he was taking your questions under serious consideration.
“Y’know, I think it’s very comfy,” he said, giving you a knowing look. He’d obviously picked up on the not-so-subtle cue that you might want him to take you back to his place, and you appreciated that he was sticking to the bit. “But it sounds like you’re an expert, so I think you should come over and be the judge of that.”
An answering grin curved your mouth and you murmured, “I’d like that.”
Then, before you could let your fear get the best of you again, you pushed yourself up onto your tiptoes, your lips brushing against Steve’s beard as you moved to whisper in his ear.
You shivered at the physical reminder of the coarse hair rasping deliciously against your cheeks when he’d kissed you and it took a moment to remember what you’d been about to say. When you did, you couldn’t hold in your smirk.
“Did I mention I do my best snuggling naked?”
“Sunshine.”
The nickname was uttered in a gruff, rumbling rasp, like the sound of a plow on snowy streets. It was so deep and delicious, your toes curled in delight and your mouth pulled into a full-blown grin.
You barely had time to pull away before Steve was wrapping his hand around the back of your neck and towing you in for a kiss.
Steve’s mouth was wonderfully soft and exquisitely warm and achingly familiar against yours. He wasted no time licking along the seam of your lips, seeking entrance that you happily gave him.
Your fingers curled around Steve’s sides beneath his sweater, digging greedily into the soft skin at his waist while you kissed him back feverishly, trying to close every gap between your bodies.
“Fuck, how does this feel so much better than I remember?” Steve growled against your lips, his hand on the back of your neck tilting your head just the way he wanted so he could lick even deeper into your mouth.
Your breathy, delirious laugh was swallowed by his all-consuming kiss, the sound turning into a helpless moan.
God, he was right, it did feel so much better than you remembered to have Steve’s mouth on yours, and you couldn’t fathom how you’d run away from him before because, in that moment, the last thing you wanted to do was stop. You wanted to kiss Steve for the rest of your life.
“I don’t know, but Steve, please, don’t stop,” you murmured when he finally let you up for air. You tried to catch your breath while he was busy pressing insatiable kisses to your cheek, your jaw, the corner of your mouth, anywhere he could reach without straying too far from your lips.
Pulling your hands from beneath his sweater, your no longer freezing fingers threaded into the hair at the nape of Steve’s neck, pulling him closer while at the same time pushing yourself up onto your tiptoes again. Your bodies slotted together even more perfectly, and you moaned softly into his mouth as you tugged him in for another kiss.
Steve kissed you harder, holding you tight to his chest like he was afraid that if he let go, you’d disappear on the wintry wind. In turn, you held him just as fiercely, your nails raking through the beard on the underside of his jaw and tugging lightly to bring him closer until he was rumbling a pleased sound deep in his chest.
“Get a room!”
The perfect bubble that had formed around and Steve abruptly popped, the sounds of the bustling holiday market rushing in along with the December chill and you pulled away, your first instinct to worry about what your friends would think. But then you caught the look on Steve’s face.
He was staring at you with such a blissed out expression, his blue eyes dark and hazy, a pleased smile on his kiss-swollen lips, that you couldn’t help but relax and melt back into him. You took your time to press a sweet kiss to his lips before turning to your friends.
Natasha, Yelena and Bucky all wore matching smug grins. Nat was even popping little chocolate candies into her mouth like she was enjoying the show.
“Oh no, please don’t stop on our account,” she called to you and Steve, gesturing with her hand for you both to continue. The whole group burst into raucous laughter.
Cracking up and shaking your head, you buried your face in Steve’s rumbling chest, feeling a little shy about being caught making out so heatedly by your friends. But you felt relief, too, that no one was upset—that all your friends were happy for you and Steve.
When you’d finally gotten ahold of yourself, you tipped your face up and caught Steve’s eye, giving him a sly smile that had his expression instantly darkening with a hunger that made you pulse with desire.
“So about that comfy bed of yours…” you murmured, just for him to hear. When he nodded once, quickly, to acknowledge he remembered it, you went on. “I’d love to see it if you’re ready to go?”
The implication of your question was clear and Steve clutched you tighter to his chest, capturing your lips for a brief, hot kiss that did more to warm you from the inside out than any of the hot chocolate you’d consumed that evening.
“Sunshine, I’ve been ready to take you home for years,” he rasped against your mouth, the honesty in his voice making you smile.
When Steve pulled away, he tugged you over to your group of friends and told them you were heading home—yes, together, he confirmed. All three of them murmured encouraging words in your ear as you hugged them goodbye, and you could tell by the pink tinging Steve’s cheeks that they were doing the same to him.
Once farewells were said, Steve snagged your hand and laced your fingers together. As you walked to the subway, he tucked your clasped hands into the pocket of his overcoat, and then your other into the crook of his elbow, where he covered it with his palm to keep you warm.
Steve held you tucked into his side the whole way back to his place while he made idle conversation, asking about the latest books you’d read and movies you’d watched. He only let go when it came time to pull out his keys and unlock his door.
There was a giddy, electric energy between the two of you as Steve helped you out of your coat and hung it up. Your gaze kept drifting back to him while you took off your boots and he hung up his overcoat. Once done, he stepped close, toeing out of his shoes next to where you’d dropped your boots.
“Do you want anything to drink?” Steve asked, his voice rough and a little uneven, like he was nervous. It made you smile, settling your own nerves to know he was right there with you.
You stepped further into Steve’s space, your fingers sneaking beneath the hem of his sweater and giggling when he sucked in a sharp breath. He’d made an excellent effort to keep your fingers warm on the way home, but the December cold had still snuck in.
It was a good thing Steve was there to warm you up again.
“I think I’d just like to see this comfy bed of yours,” you murmured, pushing up onto your tiptoes and kissing Steve.
The two of you lingered in the entryway of Steve’s apartment for long minutes, kissing and learning what made each other gasp and moan. His teeth nipped at your lower lip, sinking in hard enough to make you whimper before relenting and soothing the sting away with his tongue.
Meanwhile, you let your hands wander further beneath Steve’s sweater, finding a light trail of hair leading down to the waistband of his slacks. You raked your nails through it, and relished the pleased sound that rumbled in his chest.
Warm, wet desire was gathering between your thighs, and it wasn’t long before you squirmed impatiently against Steve, needing more.
By the time Steve broke the kiss and spun you around, his heavy hands dropping to your hips to guide you through his apartment, your panties were damp and you were aching for something only Steve could give you.
Both of you moved quickly as you let Steve lead you to his bedroom, pausing just inside the darkened room while he flicked on a light.
A soft, golden glow emanated from two lamps set on low wooden tables on either side of the massive bed. Curiously, your gaze roved over the room, taking in the earthy colors and tasteful design.
It seemed Steve hadn’t only gotten his wardrobe and appearance together—he’d also made his home a place that was warm and welcoming and entirely him.
The king-size bed was swathed in a thick, forest green comforter with dark charcoal sheets, a veritable pile of pillows at the head that looked far too enticing. The rest of the room was furnished with a dark wooden bookcase and dresser that matched the bed frame and side tables. There were even some vintage photographs of Brooklyn decorating the wall, along with some framed pictures on dresser.
Wandering over, you picked up one of the photographs. It was from the first autumn after you’d met Yelena and the others. The group had rented a car and gone to a farm upstate to go apple picking and enjoy all the other autumnal delights the state had to offer.
In the photo, you were tucked into Steve’s side on a bale of hay, ready for the hayride the group had decided to go on, with Yelena on your other side. There was a blanket draped over your laps, and Steve’s arm was wrapped around your shoulders. The three of you were beaming at the camera.
“Do you remember that trip?” Steve asked, sliding up behind you and wrapping his arms loosely around your waist. His chin rested on your shoulder while he peered at the photograph.
“Yeah,” you said, nodding. Then you winced as you remembered something about the trip. “Wasn’t this the time I fell asleep on your shoulder on the way home and drooled all over your jacket?”
Steve laughed huskily in your ear.
“It is,” he confirmed, brushing a kiss to your cheek before murmuring. “I didn’t wash it for a month.”
It was your turn to laugh, though the sound was more of a surprised exhalation as you twisted your upper body so you could see his face better.
“What?”
Steve grimaced, wrinkling his nose and scuffing a hand against the back of his neck sheepishly, like he regretted admitting that to you.
“It was more because it smelled like you than because of the, y’know, drool,” he explained, his tone a tiny bit defensive. But then he looked at you, finding your face still frozen in surprise and his expression softened. “I’ve liked you since I met you, sunshine.”
It wasn’t anything Bucky hadn’t already told you, but it still felt like an entirely new revelation coming straight from Steve, and all you could think to say was, “Oh.”
You turned back to the photo, still held in your hand, and all you could think about was the fact that you had the same one tacked up on the corkboard over your desk. You wondered if Steve liked it for the same reason you did—because it made the two of you look like a happy couple, even with Yelena sitting next to you.
“I liked you too,” you confessed in a small voice.
Steve was quiet for a moment, his hold on you loosening slightly as you stepped forward to put the photograph back on his dresser. But when that was done, he towed you back in until your back was pressed to his chest.
“Liked?” he asked, enunciating the ‘d’ at the end of the word.
Your mouth flickered in a smile and you turned around in his arms. Your hands smoothed over his broad shoulders while you leaned into him, your soft curves pressing into the hard planes of his body.
“I liked you then, and I like you now, Steve,” you said, holding your breath as you stared up at him. Even knowing he felt the same way about you, it was still scary to lay your heart bare for the first time, and you waited eagerly for his response.
An exhale gusted from Steve and you couldn’t help but note the relief in his expression, even as he grinned wide.
“That’s good to hear, sunshine, because I like you, too.”
“Good,” you said with a grin, dragging Steve down for a too-brief kiss. “Now, will you take me to bed already?”
Steve’s laughter was muffled as he kissed you again, guiding you around and walking you backward until the backs of your legs hit the bed. He didn’t break the kiss as he lowered you to the soft mattress and helped you slide up the bed until your shoulders settled into the pile of pillows at the head.
Your arms wrapped around Steve and you pulled him down on top of you while he braced himself so he didn’t crush you. One of his legs slid between your thighs and he lowered himself down on top of you until his bulge pressed into your stomach. Your belly swooped with excitement and your pulse thrummed with desire.
Hiking one of your legs up around his waist, you writhed beneath Steve, grinding your hot core against his thigh through your jeans.
You couldn’t seem to stop touching him, your hands sketching the exact measure of his body, and he seemed to be doing the same. Steve’s hands couldn’t stay still, sliding up and down your sides before finally pushing beneath your sweater.
His warm, calloused fingers stroked covetously over your skin, and you felt extra sensitive wherever he touched you, his every caress sending shivers of pleasure racing through your body.
“Steve,” you whined, wrenching your mouth from his to drag in a much-needed breath. Even still, you craved more and your body rocked up into his, grinding against his thigh while his bulge pressed insistently into your belly.
“You feel so good, sunshine,” he rasped as he kissed a trail along your jaw and down to your neck. The scratch of his beard against your skin had you shuddering beneath his big body. “Can I…?” he asked, his fingertips teasing along the edge of your bra beneath your sweater.
“Yes—please,” you gasped. Your own fingers curled into the soft fabric of Steve’s sweater between his shoulder blades and you tugged on it, trying to pull it over his head.
Steve chuckled into your neck before he sat up and yanked his sweater off for you, baring the broad expanse of his chest. You caught glimpses of soft brown hair dusted across his pecs and endless swaths of golden skin before he was helping you out of your sweater.
You grumbled disgruntledly when your view of Steve was cut off as he tugged your sweater over your head, then as he leaned close to unclasp your bra and toss it somewhere in the room. You only dragged your eyes away from Steve’s perfect chest when he made a low, almost anguished sound.
He looked a little dazed, his eyes staring down at your bare breasts. Your chest was heaving slightly, making them bounce gently, and Steve looked almost hypnotized by the sight.
Snorting to yourself, you curled your fingers around his firm biceps and tugged him back down on top of you, whimpering when your nipples brushed against the hair on his chest. They pebbled as pleasure spiked through your body, settling heavily between your thighs and making even more wetness soak into your panties.
The movement had broken Steve from his trance and he began kissing from your neck down your chest. The rasp of his beard over your clavicle sent a delicious shiver down your spine, making you keen and tremble beneath him.
“Fuck, you’re so soft,” he rumbled gruffly into your skin. He buried his face in the valley between your breasts, groping your supple flesh in his big hands while pressing teasing kisses and gentle bites to your skin. “You’re so perfect, sunshine.”
You whined a needy sound, reacting to his touch as much as his awe-filled words, and threaded your fingers through Steve’s soft hair. You held him tightly to your chest, wordlessly pleading for more, and he enthusiastically indulged the request.
Steve wrapped his lips around your nipple and sucked deeply, drawing so much of you into his hot mouth, it felt like he was doing his damndest to devour you. You were already so sensitive for him that it felt like there was a direct line connecting your sensitive peak to your clit, and you cried out in pleasure, your spine arching up off the bed and pushing your chest further in Steve’s face.
He grinned, doing a poor job of hiding his self-satisfied expression in your soft tits, but you didn’t begrudge him the smugness—not when he nibbled at your hardened nipple so good, it made your hips buck up from the bed. A whine slipped from your lips when you realized you no longer had his thigh to grind against, your legs kicking restlessly at the sheets.
After giving the same torturous treatment to your other nipple, wringing even more whimpering whines and desperate keening sounds from your mouth, Steve began kissing his way further down your body. He nipped playfully at your belly before lifting his head to catch your eye.
It took you a moment to blink them into focus enough to see him clearly.
“I’ve been dreaming about your taste for years, sunshine,” he rumbled, hooking his fingers in the waistband of your jeans and tugging just enough that you knew he was asking if he could take them off. “Please, can I…?”
You were already nodding, your fingers fumbling over the button of your jeans. Steve seemed just as eager as you, gently pushing your hand aside and taking over as he thumbed it through the hole in the denim and pulled your zipper down. Then he was peeling your jeans down over you hips and thighs, taking your panties off at the same time.
In only a few seconds, you were stripped bare for the first time in front of Steve Rogers, and if it wasn’t for the shuddered exhale that gusted past his lips and the sizable bulge twitching in the front of his slacks, it might’ve occurred to you to feel a little insecure.
But before those thoughts could even begin to creep in, Steve was dragging his hands up your thighs and spreading your legs with a reverent look on his face, giving an appreciative rumble deep in his chest as he raked his eyes up the naked length of your body.
“You’re so fucking beautiful, sunshine,” he rasped, pressing his face between your thighs and taking a deep breath.
Heat bloomed in your cheeks, but you didn’t have time to wonder at how you smelled because Steve was licking his tongue into the seam of your pussy, groaning like he’d eaten something delicious.
“Fuck, you taste even better than I imagined,” he growled before diving in deeper, burying his face against your cunt and eating you out like he was a dying man and you were his last meal.
In no time at all, he had you crying out, your hips bucking up off the bed as pleasure swirled through your body. It was all you could do to try to stop yourself from humping against his handsome face.
Steve’s thick biceps banded around your thighs and he held you spread open while he feasted on you, his eyes staring up past your quivering belly and heaving chest to watch your reactions. He sucked and nibbled and flicked his tongue over your sensitive clit, paying attention to what had you writhing and moaning your pleasure beneath him.
He licked into your pussy, fucking you with his tongue until you were squirming and panting on the bed, your thighs tensing and trembling with your building release.
Needing something to hold on to, you threaded your fingers into Steve’s hair, holding his head against your greedy pussy and rocking your hips into him. You moaned loudly, unabashedly, grinding against his mouth and beard as you neared the edge.
“Oh god, Steve, ‘m so close, please—please, don’t stop, ‘m gonna come,” you babbled, your spine arching up off the bed as you threw your head back into the pile of soft pillows. “Fuck, please, please, please!”
It was clear that Steve was a quick study when it came to your body, and he put what he’d learned to good use, sucking hard on your clit and flicking his tongue over it, steadily driving your pleasure higher until, finally, it crested. And then he pushed you right over the edge.
Your fingers fisted in Steve’s hair and you humped shamelessly against his face as you came with a cry of his name—“Steve!” Your body tightened, and then loosened as wave after wave of pleasure swept through your limbs, making you shiver intensely while Steve’s mouth worked you through your release.
When the pleasure began to ebb, you melted back into the soft blankets on Steve’s bed, a dazed smile curving your mouth. Steve eased you down with gentle sweeps of his tongue and soft kisses to your inner thighs, murmuring sweet words to you about how good you tasted on his tongue.
It wasn’t until you whimpered from overstimulation that Steve stopped. He pressed one last kiss to the top of your mound before pushing himself up. His happy grin when he saw the sated, content expression on your face made your heart skip a beat in your chest. He was just so damn handsome.
“Good?” Steve asked, though you knew from the self-satisfied look in his eye that he already knew the answer to his question.
Still, you nodded. “So good,” you purred, stretching and reaching for him. Your fingers curled into coarse hair on the underside of his jaw and you tugged him up your body for a kiss.
You could taste yourself on his lips, and his beard was so drenched in your juices, it made your own cheeks damp. A groan worked its way up your throat at the filthiness of the kiss, and you pulled Steve closer, letting him muffle the sound as his tongue slipped into your mouth.
Even though Steve had just made you come harder than anyone else in your entire life, renewed desire was beginning to bloom in your core, the heat of your arousal already building again. Distractedly, you recognized that you’d never felt the way you did for anyone but Steve—insatiable, unwilling to let the night end just yet.
When Steve’s hard bulge knocked against your hip, a devious smirk curled your lips and you wasted no time trailing your fingers down his bare, golden chest to grope his cock through his slacks. He was hard and heavy in your hand, and an excited thrill raced down your spine at the thought of taking him in your mouth.
Steve groaned against your lips, his big body shuddering when you squeezed and stroked him through the thick material of his pants. So you did it again, rubbing him with your palm until you felt his hard length jump against your fingers, like his body was just as eager for your touch as the rest of him.
“We don’t have to do more,” Steve said, his voice a little breathless. “I-I mean, you don’t have to return the favor or anything. I’m good to just go to sleep if that’s what you want.”
Steve’s words were honorable, but you didn’t want to sleep.
You pushed at his larger body until he flipped onto his back. Following after him, you kissed down his chest, taking a moment to nuzzle in the soft hair scattered across his pecs before you lifted your head and caught his eye, letting him see the desire in yours.
“I bet I’ve dreamed about sucking your cock just as much as you dreamed about eating my pussy,” you whispered huskily, holding his gaze determinedly while you shifted down his body until your face was level with his bulge. You mouthed at his hard length through his slacks. “Please, Steve, can I…?”
“Yeah—yes—fuck, sunshine, you can do whatever you want,” he rasped, helping you undo his button and fly, his fingers trembling. Then he lifted his hips so you could pull his pants down.
You felt like you were unwrapping the most perfect Christmas present as you tugged his slacks and boxer briefs down his thick, toned thighs. You even let out a little gasp of delight when Steve’s cock bounced free, marveling at the sheer masculine beauty of it.
Impatiently, you pulled his clothes the rest of the way off, pausing only to kiss his thighs, enjoying the softness of his leg hair against your lips and cheeks, before returning to his cock.
Taking him in hand, you circled your fingers around the thick shaft and gave him a loose pump, watching how he bucked his hips into your fist from just that little bit of touching. Steve’s hands were fisted in the blankets on the bed, like he was holding himself back from touching you, and you decided you want to make the man—your man—lose himself in pleasure, just like he’d done to you.
You ducked down and licked the tip of Steve’s cock, humming in delight as the salty, musky taste of his precum burst on your tongue. The vibrations made Steve groan and you hid a self-satisfied smirk against his cock, before refocusing on your task.
You pressed wet, open-mouthed kisses up and down Steve’s shaft, staring up his hard, firm body while he watched you worship his cock. His cheeks were tinged pink, a light sheen of sweat dotting his brow and his eyes were so dark, his pupils blown so wide, they looked like the navy blue night sky on a winter evening.
When you ducked down further, taking his balls into your mouth and suckling greedily, Steve’s gaze widened and his cock twitched in your hand.
“Sunshine,” he rasped, the nickname sounding like a plea for mercy as he groaned loudly. “Ya keep sucking my balls and I’m gonna come way too soon.”
With a smirk, you gave his sensitive sac one last little suckle before letting it fall from your lips, then you licked up the length of his cock.
“Can’t have that,” you quipped, shooting him a smug grin. You pressed a kiss to the tip and wrapped your lips around the head, taking him into your mouth and sucking hard enough to make his hips buck up off the bed.
Another anguished sound wrenched free from Steve’s lips.
“Oh fuck,” he moaned as he settled back down, one of his hands coming to rest on the crown of your head—not pushing you down or pulling you away, just holding you like he couldn’t help but touch you.
For a moment, you focused on Steve’s cock, pulling back before taking him deeper into your mouth, using your tongue to swirl around the head and trace the veins decorating his shaft while your fist stroked him. But when you flicked your gaze up to Steve, you found him watching you with adoration in his eyes.
“You’re amazing, sunshine,” he rumbled when he noticed he had your attention, one side of his mouth pulling up in a lopsided grin. “You’re gorgeous—and you look so fucking hot with my cock in your mouth.”
The corners of your mouth flickered in a pleased smile as his praise washed over you, and you closed your eyes, soaking it in. When you opened them again, you redoubled your efforts on Steve, bobbing up and down on his length at a steady pace while you pumped him in your fist.
You lost yourself in the pleasure of sucking Steve’s cock, and before long, you could feel yourself growing wet all over again. Your inner walls clenched pathetically around nothing while your mouth was filled with his big dick, but you didn’t want to stop.
However, before you could make Steve come down your throat, his hands gently gripped your head and he pulled you up off his cock. With his considerable strength, Steve hauled you back up the bed and rolled you over onto your back beneath him, bracing himself on one hand while the other slide between your thighs. He bit off a curse when he felt how wet you were.
“Christ, sunshine, ya got this wet from sucking my cock?” he asked, a note of teasing in his tone that had heat coursing through your body. Before you could respond, though, his mouth found yours for a kiss.
You were certain he must’ve been able to taste himself on your tongue, but he didn’t seem to care. He was too determined to devour your lips and swallow your moan while he speared you open with two fingers, capturing your cry of pleasure.
“Oh god, Steve,” you mumbled against his mouth, your hips rocking into his hand and fucking his fingers. “Please, I need you—I need you to fuck me.” Your hand was fisted in Steve’s soft hair and you clung to him, your entire being straining to get closer while still taking all the pleasure his fingers offered.
“Thank fuck—I need you so goddamned bad, sunshine,” he groaned, easing his fingers from your dripping hole and rolling onto his back so he could reach for something.
A moment later, you heard the sound of a wooden drawer snap closed and he rolled back on top of you, the square foil packet of a condom held in his fingers.
“Ya wanna do the honors?” he asked, his grin so charming and so like the Steve you’d known for so many years that it took your breath away.
But there was a comfort and an ease to the moment because you were there with Steve—your Steve—and you laughed at his silly offer. You were shaking your head even as you took the packet and tore it open, tossing the foil aside and making quick work of rolling the condom onto his cock.
When you were done, you gave the base of his shaft an affectionate squeeze and Steve chuckled, capturing your lips in a kiss while he shifted on top of you, pressing his knees between your legs and spreading your thighs to make room for his big, broad body.
You opened happily for him, kissing him back while your legs hooked around the backs of his thighs. Together, you lined your bodies up until Steve’s cock lay heavily against your mound, kissing lazily all the while.
After a moment, Steve broke the kiss, pushing himself up with one hand while the other fisted his hard length and held himself away from the place where you ached for him to fill. He stared deep into your eyes and gave you a serious look, a little bit of anxiety swirling in his gaze.
“Are you sure about this?” he asked, his eyes roving over your face like he was searching for any hidden remnant of hesitance on your part—any sign that you might run, you realized. “Because I’ve wanted this—I’ve wanted you for so long, that if you tell me tomorrow this was a mistake…” Steve paused, his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he swallowed, “it’ll break my fucking heart, sunshine.”
Steve’s voice cracked a little on the pet name and it made your heart split open in your chest. You didn’t know if you’d ever forgive yourself for hurting Steve the way you did, for saying those things you didn’t mean and trying to push him away when all you’d wanted was to pull him closer.
You decided then and there to make it up to him—and that began with being honest with him. Always.
So you threaded your fingers into Steve’s beard until you were cupping his face and you stared him directly in the eye as you answered his question.
“I’m sure, Steve,” you said firmly, certainty resonating in your tone. “I was scared before—I’ve wanted you for so long that the thought of finally having you was terrifying.” You gave him a tremulous, apologetic smile, and his expression softened. “But I’m sure about this,” you said again, your voice stronger. “I’m sure about you, and I’m sure about us.”
When you finished your confession, Steve’s eyes closed and he exhaled a long, relieved breath. You pulled him down for a kiss, and it was a gentle thing—tentative as you both savored the vulnerability you shared, physically and emotionally, thanking one another for the trust that took.
It was only when the kiss ended and Steve pressed his forehead to yours that he pushed inside you for the first time, his thick cock sinking deep into your pussy with one determined, inexorable thrust.
Your arms and legs were wrapped around him already and you clung to Steve as you cried out, tears of emotion pricking at the backs of your eyes even as pleasure radiated through your body.
“You ok?” Steve asked softly and the question—so gentle and genuine—had a tear spilling onto your cheek. He brushed it away.
“This is the happiest I’ve ever been,” you admitted in a thick voice, tugging Steve’s mouth back to yours, kissing him deeply.
Together, you gave yourselves over to your instincts. Steve pulled his hips back until only half of him remained inside, and your heels dug into the backs of his thighs, urging him to plunge deep into you again. He slid home, and both of you moaned.
Steve rocked into you with slow, thorough thrusts, but when you moaned for more, he drew back more each time and thrust harder. It wasn’t long before he was fucking you in hard, deep strokes that hit all the most perfect spots inside you, his mouth kissing your cheeks and neck and anywhere he could reach while he held you pinned to his chest, his hips working his cock deep into your cunt.
With every hard thrust, you clung more tightly to Steve, holding him with your arms wrapped around his shoulders, fingers buried in his hair, thankful he’d grown it long enough that you could grip it tight in your fists. Your body writhed beneath his bigger form, using your legs draped around his thighs to meet his thrusts.
For what seemed like forever, you and Steve were nothing more than two writhing bodies trying to get closer, deeper, tighter together, like your hearts were straining to become one. And you were so consumed with pleasure that it wasn’t until you were right on the precipice of your release that you realized you were close.
“Steve,” you gasped, trying to tell him you were going to come, and just then he changed the angle of his hips, stealing the words from your lips.
He was driving his cock so deep into your cunt and grinding against your clit so exquistiely that you saw stars. Your body shook under a deluge of pleasure and the coil of tension twisted tighter in your core.
“Come for me, sunshine,” Steve rumbled, fucking you hard and deep and so perfectly you knew you were forever ruined for any other man. “Be a good girl and come on my cock before I fucking explode.”
His filthy words were your undoing.
You shattered apart, sharp, sparkling pleasure devastating your body and mind while you screamed Steve’s name as you came. Your whole body clenched tight, clamping down on Steve’s cock hard enough that he grunted into your neck, then you succumbed to the pleasure as it dragged you under its thrall, whimpers and moans spilling from your lips mindlessly.
Steve’s hands gripped your hips tightly, and he rutted into your clenching pussy with wild thrusts as he chased his own release. He found it only a moment after yours, groaning your name against your cheek while his hips stuttered and shunted forward, burying himself balls-deep in your fluttering pussy while he came, his cock throbbing deep in your cunt.
You held each other close as you came down from your releases. Your fingers stroked through Steve’s soft hair, the strands damp with sweat, and twirled around the gently curling ends. Meanwhile, his hands were petting up and down your sides, his face buried in the pillow beside your head while he rumbled muffled words of praise in your ear.
Eventually, Steve sat up, pulling his softening cock as gently from your body as he could manage, watching your face closely for any hint of pain. You were a little sore, but when he pulled free, your body mourned the loss of him more than anything else.
He quickly disposed of the condom and wrapper in his bathroom, then came back with a warm wet washcloth. He cleaned you up with gentle caresses, pressing a kiss to your hip and nipping playfully at your belly until you were giggling and pushing him away, your body too tired and sated and oversensitive for such treatment—but you were grinning all the same.
When he was done, you rose from the bed and went to the bathroom while he padded to his dresser. After you were done, you found Steve relaxing on his bed in only a pair of lounge pants, his chiseled chest deliciously bare and biceps bulging with his hands tucked behind his head.
You paused, raking your eyes over his gorgeous chest, only catching his gaze when he made a deep, rumbling sound of good-natured warning.
“You better put on some pajamas, sunshine,” Steve started, his blue eyes heated and a playful smile flickering at the edges of his mouth, almost hidden by his beard. “Unless you want me to fuck you again.”
The threat in his tone was flirtatious and you almost took him up on the offer. But you knew that if Steve fucked you again, you’d be sore the next day, and you didn’t want that. Huffing a petulant sigh, you moved to the pile of folded clothes Steve had left on the corner of the bed.
The heat in Steve’s eyes didn’t abate as he watched you pull one of his shirts over your head, tugging the hem down until it covered your ass and part of your thigh. You didn’t have any clean panties, so you crawled into bed like that, your eyes finding Steve and watching as the heat of desire softened into the warmth of affection.
The two of you slid beneath the blankets and you curled up at Steve’s side, your head on his chest. You fell asleep quickly and easily to the sound of his gentle breathing, and the steady drumming of his heart beating beneath your cheek.
The next morning, you woke to snow flurries drifting past the windows of Steve’s bedroom, the flakes having covered his neighborhood in a blanket of white while you slept. You pressed a happy smile against Steve’s sternum, the expression deepening when you felt his heart skip a beat at your closeness.
“So, is my bed comfy enough for you, sunshine?” he asked in the deep rasp of a man who’d just woken up. Using his arms looped around your waist, he pulled you on top of him, his mouth finding yours for a decadent good morning kiss before he let you answer.
“Hmm,” you hummed playfully in thought, smiling against his mouth while you pulled him closer with your fingers curled into the scruffy, coarse hair of his beard. “It could use a few more pillows—and maybe a nice throw blanket.”
“Consider it done,” he murmured, rolling you beneath his broad body and sliding his hips between your thighs. His morning wood brushed against your bare core and you moaned into his mouth. “Anything you want, you just tell me, sunshine,” he rumbled in between slow, drugging kisses, his hips rolling leisurely against you. “I want my girlfriend to feel comfortable here.”
“Girlfriend?” you gasped breathlessly, your heart beating harder with excitement while he pulled away to kiss down your neck. You could feel Steve’s grin against the side of your throat before he pressed a kiss against your thrumming pulse.
“You wanna be my girlfriend, don’t ya, sunshine?” he asked.
It was only because you’d known Steve for so long, and were so determined never to hurt him again, that you heard the tiny thread of anxiety in his tone. You squeezed him tightly in your arms and rushed to answer, eager to put his worry to rest.
“Yes!” you cried happily. “Yes, I want to be your girlfriend, Steve.” You twisted your fingers in his soft hair and tugged his mouth up from your neck. “Now kiss me, boyfriend,” you murmured and Steve, obligingly, crushed his mouth to yours in a blissful kiss.
You and Steve reveled in your new relationship, spending a long time in bed just kissing and exploring each other and making up for lost time before your growling stomachs finally made you get up.
After breakfast, Steve seemed to remember something and he padded to the entryway, coming back with the box he’d acquired at the holiday market the evening before. He handed it to you, saying there was no way he’d be able to wait until Christmas to give it to you.
You opened the present, finding a simple silver chain and a stunningly engraved sun pendant within. You were so overwhelmed with happiness that tears sprang to your eyes and you had to hastily wipe them away.
“A little bit of sunshine for my sunshine,” Steve murmured against your temple before pressing a kiss to your skin.
At your insistence, he helped you put the necklace on and you thanked him graciously—with words and kisses. Then you towed Steve back to bed, and the two of you gave in to the pleasure of your bodies until you collapsed, sated once again.
All day, you couldn’t stop smiling. You were doing one of your favorite things, snuggling on a snowy day, with one of your favorite people in the world—your boyfriend. And you were making plans for the future, talking about what you were going to get your other friends for Christmas and arguing about how to best decorate Steve’s apartment for the holiday.
The whole time, you couldn’t help but think about how Christmas would always be extra special for you from that year on. It was a wonderful holiday but, more importantly to you, it was when you and Steve Rogers finally admitted your feelings for one another and took the first step toward a forever together.
So, this time of year would always be your favorite time of year.
december daze challenge masterlist
#steve rogers#steve rogers fanfiction#steve rogers smut#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers x you#navy and roo's sleepover#steve rogers fic#steve rogers fanfic#steve rogers au#steve rogers imagine#steve rogers one shot#chris evans#chris evans fanfiction#chris evans characters#chris evans smut#witchywithwhiskeywork#december daze#friends to lovers
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Our Lips Are Sealed
Brother-In-Law!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader
A Little More Savory tier commission from Anon 💜
Word Count: 2173 (I keep going over 😩 lol)
Warnings: 18+ MDNI, cheating, dirty talk, cucking (although the husband doesn’t know lol), breeding, size kink, breeding kink, kissing, fingering, squirting, unprotected sex, creampie
proofread ✍️
It’s another dumb family get-together hosted by your husband, which is basically an excuse for him to invite his brother and a few close cousins and get blackout drunk. This time, he uses the excuse of it being the holidays.
“It’s the best time for families to come together!”
His exact words to you as the first of the invitees showed up at your front door. You’re honestly not surprised. It’s something you’ve come to expect from your husband. It’s put a strain on your marriage, although he somehow seems oblivious to it. The only person to lend you a sympathetic ear about the whole thing is your brother-in-law, Leon.
He knows how much it bothers you, always giving you an empathetic smile once the drinking starts. You’ve noticed that he doesn’t drink as much when he’s around his brother—a fact that doesn’t go unnoticed by your husband.
“What happened with you? Y’used to drink like a fish,” he laughs, face red. A few of the cousins chuckle along with him.
Leon shrugs with an easy grin in place, “Just like to take it easy these days. Enjoy the finer things in life.”
He shoots you a glance, and you go hot all over. Later, after everyone either passes out where they sit or go crashes in one of the guest rooms, Leon’s the last one standing to help you carry your lush of a husband to bed.
Your heart races when Leon’s hand brushes across your lower back; it could be seen as an accident, just him trying to help his brother stagger along, but you know it’s more than that. Excitement thrills through your body, making you bite your bottom lip while you glance at Leon from under your lashes.
The first time anything illicit happened, it wasn’t even that bad. After helping your husband to bed, you sat on the couch with Leon and spilled your marital woes. He drew you in close, a sweet side hug, and the next thing you remember is grinding in his lap as you make-out on the couch.
Since that time, your physical relationship has tipped over into the taboo; it’s a very well-kept secret between the two of you. No one suspects a thing—least of all your husband. As much as you hate the drinking and the constant informal parties, Leon makes the headache bearable.
Dumping your husband on the bed, you turn him in his side to help prevent any choking if he happens to get sick later. Leon stands behind you, body heat a beacon against your back.
He runs a hand down your arm. “You’re so gorgeous.”
“Leon,” you whisper urgently, eyes glued to your husband’s snoring face. “Wait until we leave.”
“Why? He won’t hear a thing,” he presses himself completely against you, rocking his bulge against the swell of your ass. “Gonna fuck you right here, sweetheart. Break this bed in.”
Slick coats the gusset of your panties, fabric sticking to the lips of your cunt. Biting your lip, you let Leon lead you around the edge of the bed until he’s pushing you down onto your side.
He kisses you before slipping a hand under your dress to brush across your soaked slit.
“Fuck, so wet already. You want my cock?”
“Yes,” you whine. “Want it so bad.”
“Bet he doesn’t fuck you like you need, does he?” Leon goads, working your panties down and off your legs. “What a fucking loser.”
“Leon,” you gasp. “You shouldn’t say that about your brother.”
“Why? It’s the truth,” he cups your pussy, middle and ring finger parting your slick folds. “Too bad you married the wrong Kennedy, sweetheart.”
Whining softly, you roll your hips down into his hand, “Leon, please, just touch me.”
“I gotta finger this tight hole or ‘m not gonna fit,” he croons, fucking his fingers into your fluttering walls. “We both know this little pussy hasn’t had a cock this big.”
Keening in your throat, you ruck your dress up so Leon has easier access to the apex of your thighs.
“Look at that pretty hole,” he groans, fingers seeking out the spot at the front of your cunt that makes you squeeze down on the digits. “Married pussy’s the best.”
“D-don’t say that,” your thighs twitch, arousal burning hot in your belly.
“Why not?” He grins, and it makes your heart race. “It’s true. You’re married, and you’ve got the best pussy I’ve ever had.”
Cunt squeezing down on his fingers, you tangle your fingers in the sheets, shooting a quick glance to make sure your husband is still passed out.
“I can’t wait anymore,” Leon mutters to himself, fingers slipping from your wet heat with a wet schlick.
His middle and ring finger are shiny with slick as he pops them in his mouth with a groan. “Taste so good, but I’m too impatient to lick you til you scream.”
You gasp, watching with dilated eyes while he takes his shirt off and pulls his jeans and briefs down to his thighs. The tip of his fat cock drips precum down the shaft, making your mouth water for a taste.
He grips the base and shakes his dick at you. “Look at you drooling over it. Bet you’d love if I fucked that sweet little throat. Don’t worry, one of these days, I’ll have you choking and gagging all over my dick.”
You nod along with his words, clit throbbing like a second heartbeat and pussy dripping slick all over your thighs. He’s big. Much bigger than your husband’s dick; it sends a pulse through your cunt, knowing he’s about to fill you up and stretch you out on his cock.
Kneeling in front of you, he humps your pussy, thick cock, sliding through your slick folds and across your clit. Whimpering, you part your thighs even further.
“Please, Leon.”
His head presses against your hole but doesn’t sink in any further. He grips his cock and rocks the tip in and out of your cunt.
“Am I gonna fit in this tight little hole, baby?” He mocks, slapping the fat head of his dick down onto your wet pussy. “God, I’m gonna stretch this little pussy out.”
Whimpering, your eyes dart over to your husband passed out on his side of the bed. Your marital bed is pretty big—he always complained about needing the space—and now you’re appreciating that fact more than ever.
Leon clicks his tongue. “What a poor, frustrated little pussy. She’s crying she needs my cock so bad.”
Choking out a moan, your head thrashes back and forth against your pillow while Leon sinks his thick cock inch by inch in your snug pussy.
“Fucking hell, he’s not been giving it to you, has he?”
“Uh uh,” you hiccup a whine. “You’re too big. It hurts.”
“Aww,” he leans forward, bottoming out in your pussy with a grunt. “We’ll just have to get this hole used to being so full. Doesn’t that feel good?”
Your pussy flutters and pulses around his cock, slick coating his length. “Fuck, it’s so big.”
“Yeah, it is,” he chuckles before kissing your temple. “And your married pussy is a perfect fit. So snug and wet.”
Covering your mouth with your hand, you cry out against your palm as Leon begins to fuck you with hard, deep strokes. Eyes rolling back in your head and toes curling in pleasure, you rock your hips against his thrusts, pussy gripping his cock like a vice. His pelvis grinds against your clit every time he bottoms out in your cunt.
It’s so unfair how good this feels—knowing your husband’s right next to you as his brother pounds into your needy pussy. The pleasure crests higher and higher, body jostling with the movement so hard your tits bounce underneath your dress.
“I’m gonna cum inside you,” he whispers, grinning down at you, sweat darkening his fringe. “Cum all inside this cheating slutty pussy.”
“No!” Your voice cracks. “You can’t! What about m-my husband?”
“What about him?” Leon swivels his hips, the fat tip of his cock rubbing against your g-spot hard enough to make you squeal. “You’re fucking gagging to have me stuff you. You love my cock rawing this sweet little puss.”
“Noo,” you cling to his biceps, fingers digging into his skin.
“Fine,” he sighs. “I guess I’ll just pull out and—“
You tangle your hands in his hair and bring him closer for a dirty, tongue-filled kiss, pussy walls gripping his dick tightly.
“Please, don’t,” you whine. “Want your cock, want you to cum in me.”
“Fuck, baby, gotta keep quiet,” Leon laughs in your ear, dick slowly rutting in and out of your squelching cunt. “This fat pussy’s so loud, gonna get us caught.”
“Leon,” you whine, nails digging into his bare shoulders. He hisses in pleasure, thrusting harder into your clenching heat. “Feels so good, can’t help it.”
“Yeah? This tight pussy just can’t stop creaming my cock, can she?” He coos in your ear, lips nipping at your lobe. “Want me to put a baby in this cheating pussy?”
Eyes fluttering closed, you moan loudly, legs wrapping around his waist to lock behind his back. “Oh, please, want you to knock me up.”
“Hell yeah, I’ll breed this hot little pussy,” he groans, moving up onto outstretched arms. His hips roll against yours, cock plunging deeper into your dripping hole. “Gonna blow my load in your greedy cunt til it takes.”
Pulling out suddenly, he grips your hips to manhandle you over onto your front. He yanks your ass back, pressing his palm on your shoulders to push your head onto the pillow. His cock bullies back into your sopping wet pussy, the sound—plap plap plap—filling the bedroom.
You moan into your pillow, drool soaking the material as Leon rails you into the bed you share with your husband.
He slows his pace, dragging his dick halfway out before sinking back in. “Which cock’s better, mine or my brother’s?”
“Huh?” Your brain is mush at this point, your thoughts concentrating on cumming all over his cock while he creampies you.
“I said which cock is better,” he thrusts deep enough the tip bumps your cervix, making you moan weakly. “Mine or my brother’s?”
You stumbled over your words, not able to think when he reaches under your body to play with your clit.
“Better question,” he purrs into your ear, “which cock do you love? Hmm? The one that makes you cum? The one that’s gonna breed this fat pussy til she’s pregnant? Or…”
He pulls out, and you whine while he smacks his wet cock against your ass, “Some fucking cuck who passes out while his brother dicks down his wife?”
“What’s it gonna be, baby?” He teases the tip in and out, in and out, until you finally press your ass back against him.
“Yours, Leon,” you nearly sob when he fucks his cock back into your cunt. “Love your cock, s’the only one that makes me cum.”
He humps your ass, dick pounding at your drippy hole. “And? C’mon, what else?”
“A-and it’s the only cock I want to creampie my pussy,” you mewl, thrusting back against him. “Please, Leon, want you to cum in me. Cum in my cheating little pussy til you knock me up.”
“Goddamn,” he groans, fucking you so hard and fast the bed shakes. “Good fucking girl, gonna breed this needy pussy, gonna knock up my brother’s wife—fuck!”
He slips his hand around your hip and begins rubbing your slippery clit in quick circles.
“Cum for me, want this slutty pussy creaming my cock so I can fill her up,” he bites the shell of your ear. “Cum for me, so I can give you a baby.”
He slaps your clit with the flat of his fingers, and it pushes you over the edge, climax overtaking your body. You squirt, slick gushing from your hole to coat his pelvis and run down your thighs.
“Fucking hell, that’s it, baby, show me how much this pussy likes my cock,” Leon moans.
You shake and scream, burying your face in the pillow to muffle the noise. Fireworks explode behind your eyes while your pussy milks his cock over and over, dripping slick all over the two of you.
“That’s it, fuck, gonna breed you nice and deep like I promised,” Leon curses under his breath and thrusts a few more times against you before sinking to the hilt.
Hot, thick spurts of cum fill your fluttering walls until it spills out around his cock. Rutting against your ass, he grinds his cock in your pulsing cunt. After a few minutes, he takes in a deep breath and pulls out with a low groan. You lay there, panting heavily into your pillow, body completely spent.
He smacks the head of his cock against your sensitive and puffy cunt, “Since this naughty little pussy is just leaking out all my cum, guess I’ll have to stuff it again.”
#kofi commission#kofi#fic requests#brother in law!leon s kennedy#brother in law!leon#brother in law!leon s kennedy x fem!reader#fem!reader#sister in law!reader#leon s kennedy x reader#leon s kennedy x you#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy x you#leon s kennedy smut#leon kennedy smut
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𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐒 𝐄𝐕𝐄.
logan howlett x fem!reader
summary: when you wake up sick on your favorite day of the year, logan tries his hand at a romantic gesture
OR the time logan howlett gave you the best at home halloween you could ask for
contains: so!! much!! fluff!! soft logan, friends to lovers, some angst, mentions of past trauma, reader has telekinetic powers, kissing, swearing
!! there’s a scene in here inspired by “room for rent” by @hauntedhowlett-writes ! go check out their amazing work !!
word count: 5.5k (i got insanely carried away)
a/n: sorry for this little period of inactivity!! i’ve been feeling under the weather and lacking some inspiration and motivation, but luckily i think i’ve got my groove back! i hope you all have a happy halloween & enjoy this sweet story of everyone’s favorite wolvie <3
mutant feelings on halloween were fairly divided.
it was a love or hate kind of thing. many viewed the holiday as a hypocritical mockery; how could humans be so outward in their distaste for mutants while dedicating an entire day to parading around as the very creatures they despised? others, like yourself, saw it as a joyful occasion. a day where everyone could be as authentically themselves as they wanted to be, and not get judged for it.
safe to say, it was your favorite holiday. something you looked forward to every year, especially since you never really got the opportunity to properly celebrate it growing up.
you had the whole day planned out for weeks. your costume decided far before that. much like how a child felt on christmas eve, you felt a similar excitement and anticipation building within you on the night of october 30th.
but it would appear the powers at large weren’t feeling too generous. because at a little bit past 8, your throat started feeling scratchy.
it was easy to blame it on the changing weather, maybe some seasonal allergies if you were feeling particularly delusional. you knew exactly how your body behaved when you were feeling sick, and it always started with a sore throat. still, you snuggled under the blanket in hopes that it would pass by morning.
by the time the sun rose, your nose was blocked and it felt like you were swallowing glass.
so much for a happy halloween.
you stumble out of your room in sweatpants and a cardigan, significantly less presentable than your normal attire. all you wanted was to stay in bed, but there was a group of young students that weren’t going to teach themselves. so you dragged yourself from the comfort of your cocoon, splashed some cold water on your face, and hoped you looked presentable enough.
the glimpse you catch of yourself in the mirror on the way out didn’t appear very promising. it seems your suspicions are confirmed when a familiar face spots you.
“you look like hell,” logan calls from the other end of the hallway. he makes his way over to you in long swift strides, the heavy sound of his boots echoing in the rather quiet space.
“sure feel like it too,” you utter back weakly, your voice hoarse and tired. unexpectedly, the back of his palm presses gently against your forehead, a crease forming between his brows when he feels how warm you are.
“jesus, you’re burning up.”
“funny, because i’m absolutely freezing,” you croak, wrapping your sweater tightly around your body to prove your point. when you suddenly sneeze, everything in the hallway shakes. from the paintings on the walls, to the vases on tables scattered about. you flush in embarrassment and logan frowns.
he places his hand on the small of your back, nudging you in the direction of your bedroom door.
“logan, i have a class to teach,” you argue weakly, followed by a nasty sounding cough.
“you can’t teach them anything if you’re like this the whole time bub.”
silence on your end, because you know he’s right. you just hate caving when you’re feeling under the weather, always trying your hardest to persevere. especially, on today of all days.
“but it’s halloween,” you counter with a whine, on the verge of pouting because you were so annoyed and fed up. “i had a fun lesson about edgar allan poe planned.”
“had the whole damn day planned,” you huff to yourself, though you should’ve known logan’s enhanced hearing would catch it.
he shoots you a sympathetic glance, unlocking the door and motioning you inside.
“i know,” he soothes you with the rubbing of his thumb against the base of your spine. “maybe if you get some rest now, you’ll feel better later, yeah?”
you sigh, flopping onto your mattress dramatically.
“i suppose you’re right.”
logan chuckles at your grumbling against the bedsheets. he makes his way over to you again, brushing away the hair that was stuck to your forehead. crouching down, he presses the sweetest kiss against your temple, and his heart swells at the tired little smile you give him.
“i’ll come back to check on you in a bit,” he promises. “in the meantime, you try and get some shut eye.”
you nod from your position against the pillows, eyes already fluttering shut in hopes that maybe logan was right. you’d feel better in a few hours, and today could be saved after all. in your mind, you were optimistic.
your body, however, had other plans.
before it was even noon, you went through a whole box of tissues, and sneezed so hard and violently that it damn near shook the whole entire floor. any glimmer of hope for getting better was snuffed out quickly, meaning you’d be a prisoner to this bed until you got better in a few days.
when logan came back to check on you, he was surprised to see the state of your bedroom. the usually clean, tidy space was ridden with tissues, your comforter was on the floor, and everything hanging on the wall had been turned every which way. and to top it all off, you were curled on the side of your bed, sniffling with washed out cheeks and a bright red nose.
“do not, say i look like shit,” you warn him, though you lack any sort of intimidation. logan shoots his hands up in defense from his place in the doorway.
“wasn’t planning on it.”
you open one eye and raise an eyebrow.
the corner of his lip turns up in a smirk. “i was going to say your room looks like shit.”
one of your throw pillows feebly comes into contact with his head. not nearly as hard as you intended, but your powers were always a little out of wack whenever your immune system was.
“s’ not funny logan,” you squeak, fully peaking your head out from it’s place in your blanket burrito.
logan picks the pillow up from the floor, mindlessly tossing it between his hands as he walks towards your bed.
“you know i can’t help teasing you when you’re grumpy,” he jokes, coming to sit on the corner of your mattress.
“i’m grumpy because this is my favorite day of the year and i’m stuck in a purgatory of snot and mucus,” you groan. the pout on your face is unmistakable, and logan would think it was the cutest thing he’s ever seen if there wasn’t genuine sadness in your tone.
“why do you even like this stupid holiday so much anyways?” logan questions. it comes out a bit meaner than he wants it to, like he’s making fun of you. it only adds to your upset state, and you narrow your eyes at him.
“because it’s fun,” you bite. “especially when you’re a kid that never got to experience it until you became an adult. i do the same thing every year because it brings me comfort. people like us don't get a lot of that.”
logan knows how true that is better than anyone.
“plus it’s a day mutants don’t have to worry as much,” you continue. “we can be ourselves and it looks like we’re just blending in with everyone else.”
you mumble this last part with a glumness he’s never heard from you before.
“it’s like we’re normal.”
logan doesn’t say anything in rebuttal. he just nods his head in agreeance, letting your words sink in. he never thought about it that way, and a wave of guilt suddenly washes over him for not considering that your feelings about today ran deeper than he initially thought.
the sound of a pill bottle shaking snaps you from your wallowing. your eyes flick back to logan, who’s holding medicine in his free hand.
“stole these from the infirmary,” he gets up to place the bottle on your bedside table, picking up a few stray tissues and tossing them into the small trash can next to your bed. “figured you could use something to help you feel a little better.”
you croak out a “thanks” before that dreaded tickling in your nose starts again.
“oh no,” you whisper, bracing for impact. logan looks at you with a puzzled expression at the exact moment when you sneeze. the entire room shakes, sending the wolverine stumbling back a few paces. there’s a couple seconds of vibration afterwards before everything returns to normal.
after regaining his footing, logan makes a beeline for the bathroom. you hear the faucet running and he returns to you with a glass of water.
he nods at you wordlessly, head motioning back and forth between you and the cup. you sniffle as you shuffle yourself upright. you take the medicine without a word, letting the cold water soothe your irritated throat. logan’s eyes don’t leave your face the entire time. he stares at you with something unfamiliar, to both you, and to him. it makes a new kind of warmth coat your body, one that has little to do with your current state.
your relationship with logan was hard to explain. you weren’t quite lovers, and labeling what transpired between you as friendship didn’t feel adequate. friends surely didn’t kiss each other on the cheek, or occasionally doze on each other’s shoulder during long sleepless nights. it was so painfully obvious to everyone else that there was something between you two.
but knowing logan and his track record of emotional unavailability, you always doubted whether or not he really shared those feelings.
clearing his throat, he dissolves any buzz you were feeling. logan offers you a tight lipped smile before slowly backing away. there’s a part of you that misses the closeness already, but you shove it down.
“if you need anything else, you know where to find me,” he says quietly, his body halfway out the door.
you nod with tired eyes. “thanks again logan.”
he simply nods his head once more before shutting the door completely.
you slink back under the comfort of your blanket, allowing the weight of your own words to take their effect. today wasn’t just special because it was a way to heal your inner child. today was important to you because you could feel safe in a world that normally didn’t accept people like your family. people like you. as cliche as it sounded, it was the truth.
as you try to fall back to sleep, you can’t help but dramatically wonder if being sick today was the universe’s way of punishing you for your optimism. for believing there could ever come a time where people accepted mutants.
it was a silly notion that would have to be pried from your cold dead hands. because though you didn’t have much comfort, you always had hope.
when you succumb to the drowsiness, you dream of being a child that didn’t have to be locked away in a lab on all hallows eve.
the smell of cookie dough rouses you from slumber.
slowly, you come to, stretching out your tired limbs as you shrug off the blanket that was wrapped around your figure since this morning. you’re still tired, but the fatigue that burdened your body was much less than it was a few hours ago. the medicine that logan brought you had worked. you smile to yourself, remembering to thank him the next time you saw him.
orange light bathes your room in a sunkissed glow, signaling that the day is coming to an end. the disappointment from before creeps its way back in, a reminder that all your plans for today were a wash. you squint your eyes in the direction of your alarm clock, trying to make out the time.
6:37 pm.
it was still early enough that you could try and put on a movie at least. scott, jean, and ororo, were set to take all of the kids trick or treating around 6. you were supposed to be joining them, but from the stark silence that seeped in from under the door, it was clear they were already well on their way without you.
you know it's because you weren’t feeling well, but that didn’t make it sting any less. you stare at the costume hung over your desk chair, and suddenly it feels like you’re a little girl again, sad and disappointed because you couldn’t go out with all the other kids.
maybe next year, you tell yourself.
after a moment of self pity, it hits you just how gross you’re feeling. staying in bed all day always sounded good in theory, but in practice, it just made you feel like a slob. in a flash, you kick all the covers to the foot of the bed, making your way to the bathroom and stripping off your clothes as you went. you were in desperate need of a hot shower, a leg shave, the whole nine yards.
steam cakes the mirror with condensation, the soft sound of water trickling down the drain relaxing you almost immediately. you take your time washing the day away, letting the scalding hot droplets soothe your tired muscles. you stand beneath the stream until the water goes cold, shutting the shower off and reaching for a plush towel.
the cold air of your room erupts goosebumps on your skin. whether it was from the change in temperature, or the fact that your room was now completely back to normal, you’re not sure.
strange. you don’t recall hearing anyone enter. surely this much reorganizing would’ve created some noise, something audible over the sound of running water, but you can’t remember hearing the slightest peep.
you cling to the towel around your body like a lifeline, afraid someone was going to jump out from a corner and startle you. after a quick once over of the room, you accept the fact that it’s empty. your eyes settle on a set of clothes folded neatly on the corner of your bed.
your comfiest pajamas. an old baggy t-shirt with yellow and orange plaid pants.
too tired to question it, you slip them on without a second thought, relishing in the feeling of the soft fabric against your skin. you felt more like yourself than you have all day.
the sweet aroma from before catches your attention again. no one was supposed to be here still, not anyone you’d expect to be baking anyways. curiosity gets the best of you, and you make your way out of your bedroom and down the main staircase to the kitchen.
the last thing you expect to see is logan howlett fussing over a tray of cookies.
he grumbles something incoherent under his breath. probably a swear word or two, given he looked frustrated and out of his element.
“what are you doing?” your voice manages to startle him, a first you have yet to see since logan arrived at the mansion.
the man scratches the back of his neck awkwardly, gesturing to the tray before him on the counter.
“i was uh,” he stumbles over his words. another logan first. “just pulling these out of the oven.”
you eye him mischievously. “since when do you bake?”
there’s a beat of awkward silence that passes while logan struggles to conjure up a logical answer. because no, he didn’t bake, not now, not ever in his life. but what’s the alternative? the much scarier conversation about his feelings?
from the knowing glint in your eye, it might just have to be the latter.
logan sighs. a sound of defeat, coupled with a flash of teeth. he leans back against the edge of the counter, thick arms folded across a broad chest.
“marie helped me put ‘em in,” he admits a bit sheepishly. “was afraid i’d burn the place down if i tried to do it myself.”
you laugh at the memory of scott storming into the kitchen with a fire extinguisher last month after logan tried to cook eggs. it sparks a fondness in your chest, connecting the dots as to why logan would go through all this trouble.
“i’m glad she stepped in before you could manage to start a fire,” you joke, stepping further into the kitchen. it grants you a better look at just how messy it was, from the flour sprinkled across countertops, to bowls thrown askew. your brows pull together in confusion, a question on the tip of your tongue before you turn in the direction of the common area.
your eyes nearly water at the sight.
the living room had been turned into a heaven of pillows and blankets, little tealights placed around the edge of the table in the center. there was a stack of movies nearly as tall as you sitting in the middle, and when you squint, you could make out a few of the titles.
a nightmare on elm street, hocus pocus, friday the 13th.
they were all your favorite halloween movies.
logan comes into your peripheral vision, carefully gauging your reaction with nervous eyes.
“what’s all this?” you breathe out, a surprised smile forming on your face. it brightens even more when you see how shy logan looks from his place against the wall.
“i know you were bummed that things didn’t go how you wanted today,” he speaks lowly, somewhat unsure of himself. it was almost heartwarming to see such a rugged, brooding man be so timid. clearly this was something way outside of his comfort zone.
and yet, he did all this for you.
he looks around the room, stalling on meeting your gaze out of nerves. when he finally does, there’s so much adoration, so much tenderness in your eyes that he’s overwhelmed by it.
it’s something so foreign to logan, but it feels so right. something that he’s unknowingly longed for, and now that he has it, he’s determined not to let it slip from his grasp.
he’s got a little bit of his regular confidence back now. it's evident in the way he straightens himself out, his natural smirk returning.
“figured this might cheer you up a bit.”
the warmth in your cheeks is inevitable. it always was whenever logan was around, but this felt different than your normal exchanges. you thought maybe you had been imagining the lingering touches and stolen glances, that you were a fool for thinking logan could reciprocate the feelings you harbored for him.
but as he stands before you, with a small bashful smile and hazel eyes filled with warmth, you know that it’s not one sided. never was, and never could be.
logan nearly falls over when you jump into his arms, his hands coming to wrap around your waist on instinct. the embrace is unexpected, but not unwelcome. once logan takes a second to get his bearings, his body relaxes and molds into yours, lifting you an inch or two off the ground as he envelops you fully. your own arms wrap around his neck, face buried in his shoulder as you take in the feeling that you’ve wondered about for so long.
“thank you,” you whisper against the fabric of his shirt, smiling into the worn material.
with his enhanced senses, logan can feel the rapid thrum of your heartbeat against his own. months and months of dancing around each other finally coming to a head. he gives you one final, tight squeeze before pulling away, though he makes no move to let go of your body.
when he tucks a piece of hair behind your ear and caresses your cheekbone with his thumb, your knees feel like they might buckle.
“s’nothing much,” which was essentially logan speak for “i’d do everything in my power to keep you happy.”
you’re well aware that he’s not the best with expressing how he felt. but this simple, sweet gesture was worth more than any lengthy monologue in your book.
you catch him eyeing your mouth briefly, and you do the same, letting your mind travel to that familiar place of wondering. thinking about how his lips would feel against your own. how they would feel in other places. just as you find yourself leaning in, a kitchen timer buzzes, startling you both.
logan can’t hide his annoyance at the interruption, reluctantly removing himself from you to stop the incessant chiming.
“this damn thing,” he grumbles, shaking his head.
you stifle a laugh when he throws the timer back onto the counter a bit too harshly, sending it bouncing into a stray bowl.
deciding to take the reigns, you walk over and reach for his hand. logan’s eyes widen a bit at your outstretched palm, even more so at the confident grin you wear. he doesn’t hesitate to lock his hand in yours, trying his damndest to ignore the electricity he feels from such a small thing.
“come on,” you nod your head in the direction of the couch, playful sarcasm in your tone.
“we’ve only got all night.”
“i don’t see it.”
you whip your head in logan’s direction, shrieking out a “what?” as you look back at the tv screen.
“you look just like him,” you argue, leaning forward to grab a cookie from the plate he brought into the room. “it’s uncanny.”
logan laughs to himself, shaking his head at your antics. “you keep telling yourself that bub.”
as the credits of van helsing start to roll, you decide to try your hand at a bit of flirting.
“y’know, you should take that as a huge compliment,” you state, sinking further into the couch cushions.
logan raises a brow, taking a sip of his beer and experimentally scooting closer to you.
“and why’s that?”
you try to maintain your confidence, but logan doesn’t make it very easy. not when he’s a human furnace that’s inching into your space. not when he already makes you warm in the face in nearly every situation.
clearing your throat, you shrug a shoulder, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible.
“i had a huge crush on him growing up. thought he was super hot.”
oh. if this is the game you’re playing, logan knows for sure he’ll win.
“really?” he exaggerates, placing his arm on the back of the couch. the tips of his fingers brush against your shoulder, and he relishes in the goosebumps they create.
“mhm,” you hum, eyes not wavering from the screen. “you should be super flattered right now.”
logan chuckles again, reaching for a cookie of his own. he decides he’ll space out his teasing, be a bit generous. you were in a poor position right now, still being a little sick and all.
he’d much prefer to see you really keep up with him anyways. still, he can’t help himself.
“whatever you say darlin’,” he murmurs.
your breath hitches ever so slightly.
jesus christ it feels like this couch is on fire.
you can see his smirk out of the corner of your eye, and you feel like a schoolgirl over the way that one simple word was making you feel so giddy. tucking your legs underneath your body, you shift more to your side so you were now fully facing logan.
as you take in your surroundings, from the coziness of the living room, to the beauty of the man beside you, the inquiry that’s been floating around your head for the past couple hours falls from your lips.
“how did you even know all of this?” you question him while biting the head off of one of the bat cookies.
“know all of what?” he repeats, half of his mouth filled with cookie dough.
“that this is what i do,” you gesture to the television screen and the plate that was sitting on the table. “movies and cookies, specifically these, every single year?”
logan feigns realization, despite knowing what you meant the first time you asked. he was just too self conscious to explain the reason why. his coyness from earlier returns, the apples of his cheeks showing a tinge of pink.
“overheard you talking with ororo a couple days ago,” he begins, sliding his palms over the expanse of his denim clad thighs. “about the movie thing and stuff.”
you think back to that conversation with vague memory. you recall discussing your halloween plans, but never diving into such specifics.
logan answers your next question before you can utter it.
“i asked her this morning what all your favorite things were.” he clears his throat a bit awkwardly. “i wanted to do something once i realized you were sick.”
he trails off, not sure if he should venture into this territory again after his remark from earlier. he moves around so his position mirrors yours, making you both unable to avoid each other’s faces.
“i didn’t mean to be a dick before,” he starts to apologize. you know it’s taking a lot for him to admit his faults, and it makes all the effort he put into this even more meaningful.
“this,” he motions around the room, “was my way of trying to say i’m sorry.”
you tilt your head to the side, eyeing him empathetically.
“you don’t need to apologize for that,” you reassure him, placing a hand on his arm. “though i’m enjoying it. these cookies are really good.”
he smiles a little at your joke, soft crinkles forming in the corner of his eyes.
“i can’t take credit for that,” he admits, cocking his head in the direction of the staircase. “it was all marie.”
the thought of logan recruiting the teenager for assistance was sickly sweet. knowing marie, it was probably her idea to help. you can picture the pair of them in the kitchen, her seeming more like the adult and him like the child.
“still,” you assert. “just the fact that you thought of all this means a lot.”
his thumb rubs featherlight circle on your exposed skin. “it’s nothing, really.”
there he goes again with the undermining.
sighing, you drag your fingers up and down the expanse of his arm, eyes drawn to the motion rather than the man. you feel like your heart might burst if you go a second longer without being a bit more direct. but god was it nerve wracking. especially when logan looked at you like you were the only thing in the whole entire universe.
“this is probably the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me,” you admit lowly, toying with the hem of his sleeve, too nervous and overwhelmed to meet the wolverine’s intense gaze.
your hand moves towards his again, lightly tracing the outlines of his veins. you muster up the courage to look back up at logan, who somehow moved even closer to you in the 15 seconds you’ve spent fixated on his flannel. the soft glow of the tea lights illuminated the amber flecks of his irises, highlighted the structure of his nose, the curve of his muscles. made him look like something out of a dream. it sure felt like you were in one.
when his hand clasps around yours, you realize that this isn’t a dream. it’s your reality, and you better take advantage of it.
you let ten words convey everything.
“i’m really glad the person who did it was you.”
that’s all logan needs to hear before he decides he can’t hold back any longer. his lips find yours with a tender urgency, like he wanted to savor the moment and devour you whole all at once. the hand that was once on the couch moved to cradle your jaw, just about entirely encompassing the side of your head.
that place of wondering was correct in its predictions. despite all of his rough edges and gruffness, logan’s lips were softer than you ever could’ve imagined. your hands find purchase in the strands of hair at the nape of his neck, your bodies smushed together on the couch. logan wants nothing more than to pull you onto his lap, but he knows that’s more than likely to lead to some rather ungentlemanly activities. no, he wants to do this properly, take things nice and slow. so he settles for keeping his hands above the collar, and from the soft sighs he can hear you let out, it seems to be doing the trick.
it feels like you’re on cloud 9 as your lips move together, your disappointment of today’s plans long forgotten. all you could focus on was how perfect this moment was, how perfect logan felt. his thumb teases the corner of your mouth, a silent command that he wants to explore you further and you open yourself up with ease. his tongue prods between your lips gently, a contrast to the feeling of his calloused palm against your skin.
you move slow and syrupy, not wanting time to pass. if your mutation was time manipulation, you surely would’ve halted it, letting yourself stay in this little bubble of bliss for as long as you wanted.
but of course, all good things must come to an end. because as much as your brain had turned to jelly for the time being, the tiny functioning part that was left blossomed a new worry.
logan fears he’s done something wrong when you pull back quick and unexpectedly, your eyes wide with something he can’t quite place.
“everything okay?” he asks cautiously, frozen in position. the answer you provide is far from what he had in mind.
“i don’t want you to get sick,” you mutter, clasping a hand over your mouth. the fact that that’s what you’re worried about right now, makes logan’s heart flutter a little, as silly as it was.
all of his anxieties fade in an instant, amusement taking its place instead. logan barks out a laugh, probably one of the most sincere sounding ones you’ve ever heard from him.
“what’s so funny?” you ask, confused as to why he’d be laughing when you were dead serious. the saliva swap that just transpired was sure to pass along whatever germs your body was still harboring. the last thing you wanted was for logan to feel as shitty as you felt this morning.
“honey,” he cuts through his laughter, clutching at his sides. “i don’t get sick.”
“what do you mean, ‘you don’t get sick’?”
“regeneration,” he states matter of factly, calming down a bit. “anything that could harm my body, my mutation takes care of.”
right.
for what feels like the millionth time today, you blush. not in flattery, but in embarrassment. you hide your face behind your hands, cursing yourself for halting a damn good makeout.
“i’m such an idiot,” you mumble into your palms. “i cannot believe i just ruined the moment like that.”
“hey, hey,” logan coos, gingerly pulling your hands away from your face. your eyes are still screwed shut, not wanting to face any more ridicule than necessary, even if it was only playful. the feeling of logan’s thumb and forefinger lightly grasping at your chin causes your eyelids to flutter.
“look at me.”
slowly, you open your eyes. logan’s grip on your chin is firm but gentle. it’s to keep you from running from him, forcing you to be on the same level.
“you didn’t ruin anything,” he tells you in the most caring tone of of voice.
“promise?”
logan leans in and gives you a long, lingering kiss. it’s somehow even more maddening than the first one, and your stomach feels like it’s on a rollercoaster you’re not sure you ever want to get off of.
when he pulls away, he shoots you a wink, and you fight the urge to melt on the spot.
“promise.”
he presses airy little kisses to both of your cheeks before settling back against the couch.
“now, where were we?”
you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, watching closely as logan’s eyes lingered on your mouth again. in a flirty move, you tease him by moving in impossibly close, your lips barely a centimeter apart. just as he’s about to close the gap, your press your pointer finger to his mouth, catching him by surprise.
“i think it’s time for another movie,” you sing song, prancing off the couch and in the direction of the dvd player.
you tease.
logan simply shakes his head, beaming at you as you scan over your movie selection. he’s come to know and notice a lot of things about you. the way your nose wrinkles when you get excited. how you take your coffee. the thing you do with your hands when you get nervous. your pet peeves. he finds something new to admire about you every day. right now he’s soaking in the joy that radiates off you in bright yellow waves, unavoidable to those in your orbit.
in that moment, logan decides he always wants to be in the path of their warmth.
when you pad back over to the couch as the opening credits start, you tuck yourself into his side. logan’s arm pulls you close, anchoring you to him in more ways than one. you fit together like puzzle pieces, soon to be inseparable now that you knew just how well you connected.
in the glow of the television and the tea lights, snug by his side, he thinks you’ve never looked more beautiful.
maybe halloween wasn’t so bad after all.
thanks for reading! <3
bat divider by @saradika-graphics
#logan howlett x reader#retrosabers#sid writes shit#logan howlett fic#logan howlett x you#logan howlett#wolverine x reader#wolverine fic#wolverine#xmen#marvel#hugh jackman#halloween#halloween 2024#kinktober#kinktober 2024
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adrenaline junkie
r loves to do dangerous things, relishing in the thrill, the rush of ecstasy that rushes through her. until her overprotective teammates find out about some of her hobbies. and then others find out. it doesn't go great.
disclaimer- as has been established, i do not have BDE, so i haven't ever ridden a motorcycle. or done like most of the things r does in this.
At first, it was only small things that the girls noticed. How you would climb up on stuff and jump off, prompting intense scoldings from your captains and the coaches. If this was any indication as to how they'd act if they learned about your... more intense hobbies, you were pretty determined not to let them find out.
There were different rules for professional athletes than people who's jobs didn't rely on their ability to walk. While it wasn't in your contract, you weren't supposed to do anything physically dangerous. No motorcycles, no skydiving, no cliff jumping, no zip lining, no swimming with sharks. It was all very discouraged.
You were an adult, though, a whole entire individual who could safely decide to do dangerous things for fun. Your teammates still thought of you as a kid, Alexia and Lucy especially. And sure, you were young, but completely capable of making rational decisions for yourself.
You'd had a couple close calls; as big of a city Barcelona was, your teammates all lived near you, and it only made sense that it was only a matter of time before you were caught. Your motorcycle was parked in the building's parking lot, but none of your teammates knew that it was yours when they came over. At least, not at first.
-----
You'd decided to use your bike one morning to go grab coffee. The place was too far to walk, but it was a nice day, and you wanted to enjoy the fresh air. It was a few days into the holiday break, so you knew that a lot of your teammates would be out of Barcelona, at home with their families. This is why you didn't worry about going to the coffee shop that a lot of your teammates frequented. Which would turn out to be a mistake.
You'd had to circle the block the coffee shop was on before you could get a spot right in front. You pulled in, turning the engine off and taking off your helmet, leaving your jacket on. When you turned your attention to the coffee shop, or rather the little tables outside of it, you froze.
There, at one of the little tables with their coffees, sat Ingrid and Frido, jaws practically on the floor as they stared at you. Deciding to play it cool, hoping that if you acted like you hadn't done anything wrong, they'd be alright about it, you walked over to their table.
"Hey guys! I didn't know either of you were still in town." Ingrid was supposed to take Mapi with her to Norway, (Mapi had been complaining about the upcoming cold weather for weeks, but every time she even mentioned spending Christmas with Ingrid's family, she got this disgusting, love sick look on her face). Frido was also supposed to head home to Sweden.
Their only response was to gawk at you, stunned into silence.
"Guys?" You said, playfully waving a hand in front of their faces. This seemed to bring them out of their temporary stress-induced coma. Ingrid stood up, almost knocking the whole table over in the process.
"Are you CRAZY?" She shouted, hands flapping in the air as she spoke, gesturing wildly. Frido's mouth was opening and closing, as if she had so many things to yell, she couldn't settle on one.
"About...?" You said, looking between her and Frido, pretending that you didn't know very well what they were upset about.
"YOU KNOW WHAT ABOUT!" Ingrid yelled, pointing a finger insistently behind you.
"Ingrid, you're kind of making a scene." You mumbled, looking out of the corner of your eye at the pedestrians nearby staring at the Norwegian. She only scoffed in response, hands on her hips, waiting for you to explain yourself.
"You know who is going to make a scene? Alexia, when she finds out her perfect, precious, protégée rides motorcycles in her free time." Frido said finally. Your cool demeanor vanished.
"No, no, Frido you cannot tell her, she would kill me. Kill me dead. And if she didn't Lucy would. Actually, I'm pretty sure half of the team would kill me. Besides Pina. And Mapi."
Ingrid lets out an indignant noise. "Sell the motorcycle and we won't tell."
"You want me... to sell it? Come on, guys, it's not even that dangerous." You try, faltering when both girls rise to their feet again.
"NOT THAT DANGEROUS?" They shout together, and you throw your hands in the air, cutting them off before their lecture can really begin.
"Alright, alright, I'll sell it. You guys are boring. And you better not tell anyone about this. No one. Not even Mapi." You said, making them promise they wouldn't speak a word of it.
They insisted on driving home with you, following your bike in Ingrid's car. They honked whenever anyone came even close to you, and every time you caught a glimpse of them through their windows, Frido was staring at you like a cop tailing a murder suspect. At one point, you were going maybe 5 over the speed limit, and Frido stuck her head out the window, instructing you to slow down immediately.
If it wasn't so incredibly annoying, it probably would have been funny.
You parked the bike elsewhere, now, in case either of the Nordic girls decided to check and make sure the motorcycle was really gone.
-----
Mapi must have cracked Ingrid, you're sure of it. And you knew, too, that she only told Alexia on you because she was jealous that you had a motorcycle and she didn't. Of course, Ingrid thought you'd gotten rid of it. You hadn't. And Alexia, being Alexia, was suspicious enough to figure out that you still owned the motorcycle. She'd come over, accompanied by Lucy and Irene, completely unannounced. You'd let her in, somewhat confused. She snooped around without telling you what she was looking for, before triumphantly holding up the keys to your bike. They were hanging on the hook where they always were, but no one had ever thought to pay attention to them before.
Alexia yelled at you like she'd never yelled before, about the dangers of riding a motorcycle, about lying to her, about not listening when the older girls had tried to keep you safe. She was going on and on, and while Irene and Lucy had started off looking like they agreed with her, they were also definitely over the lecture after a few minutes.
You were in hot water with Alexia as soon as the words left your mouth; you weren't stupid, you knew how she would react to what you had just said, but you had always been hotheaded and her hovering and nagging had gotten to you today.
"You don't need to know about everything in my life, Alexia! I've gone skydiving, and I haven't died. I swam with sharks, and didn't die. Cliff jumping? Zip lining? Bungee jumping? Drag racing? I have done all of that, all since I've been with this team, and I am completely fine. You aren't my mother, and I don't need you to act like you are. I don't need your opinion on everything I do, I don't need you watching my every move. I can do what I want." You snapped. Alexia took a step back from where she'd been standing, a look of hurt flashing across her face.
"Y/n, you're way out of line," Lucy said, looking angry again. Irene nodded her head in agreement.
"No, no. She's right. I'm not her mother. She can do what she wants." Alexia said softly. She dropped the keys onto the counter, and walked out your door without another word.
You were flooded with guilt. Alexia had been more of a parent figure than anyone else in your life had ever bothered to be. You were grateful for it, you really were. She was part of the reason you were the person you were today, having spent the last of your teenage years on the team with her. She'd always watched out for you, always took the time to make sure you were okay. She'd expressed to you, before, her worry that she was overstepping, doing more than you wanted her to do. You'd thrown that right back in her face.
"You need to apologize. That wasn't fair of you." Irene said coldly.
"I just-"
"-No. You and I both know everything that Alexia has done for you, gone out of her way to do for you. She loves and cares about you, obviously you doing stupid and dangerous things is going to bother her." Irene's voice was deadly serious, arms crossed over her chest as she stared you down.
"When you moved here from England, do you know that Alexia called Leah, and talked to her for hours trying to get to know you, and make the transition as easy as possible?" Lucy cut in.
"When you got that concussion last season and you were in the hospital, she sat awake, all night, next to your bed, too worried to rest." Irene continued.
"She has an England shirt with your name on it that she wears to watch you play, did you know that? No one is allowed to see her in it, but she doesn't miss any of your games for England. Not one."
"Your first Christmas here, she went all out with Christmas decorations. You were living with her then, and she wanted the day to be special, even if it wasn't the way she normally did it."
They were switching off, seemingly having endless examples of all the things Alexia had done for you. You were blinking, hard, memories of how easy Alexia had made everything for you flashing through your mind. Lucy spoke more gently.
"You were 16 when you got here, y/n. She has done more for you than anyone. You're her kid whether you like it or not. It doesn't matter that you're 19 now, it doesn't matter that you don't live with her anymore."
"She deserves better than you lying to her about your dangerous hobbies, and she deserves better than how you just treated her. Fix it." Irene finished, tone still just as cold as it had been. She was, herself, rather protective of Alexia, you knew. Her reaction was completely warranted, you knew that too.
Irene turned then too, walking out your door and shutting it behind her. Only Lucy remained, staring at you critically.
"I didn't mean to hurt her feelings." You said weakly.
"I know. You did, though."
"I don't know why I said any of that, I was just annoyed."
"You're young, it's a young person thing to not think before you speak. You do it all the time, normally it doesn't end as poorly as this did." Lucy tried to joke, hating the sad frown on your face, even if you probably deserved it. You just shook your head, looking up at her as a single tear fell down your cheek.
"What do I do, Luce?"
"Give it a couple hours, and then go apologize. And sell the damn motorcycle. Or I'll remove the engine or something." At this, you did smile, if only weakly. "C'mere," she said gruffly, pulling you into a tight hug. "It'll be fine, kid. Alexia would forgive you for anything."
You hoped she was right.
-----
You stood at Alexia's door, about a half hour later. You'd meant to wait as long as Lucy had said, but you couldn't do it. You were fidgeting with your fingers as you waited for her to answer, not really sure what would greet you.
You'd seen Alexia mad, obviously. And you'd seen her sad, though less often. But you'd never seen her sad because of something you'd done. It made you feel sick, that you'd repaid her years of kindness with rude comments that completely disregarded how much she had done for you, because you were slightly annoyed with her behavior. If she was sad, you weren't sure how you could fix it.
When she answered the door, you were stunned, stunned, to see Alexia's eyes slightly red and puffy, like she'd been crying.
"Hola pequeña," she said roughly, wiping at her face as if to rid it of the evidence as to how upset she was.
"Can I come in?" You asked.
"Of course," she said, stepping to the side immediately to let you in. She led you to the living room, and you both took seats on the couch. The Alexia sitting next to you was not one you were used to seeing; you could tell how hurt she was by what you said. You could also tell she was trying to pretend she wasn't hurt, whether because she didn't want to make you feel bad, or because she was embarrassed at the obvious and uncharacteristic display of emotion. You chewed on your lip for a minute, trying to figure out how to apologize.
"Ale, I'm so sorry," you began.
"It's fine," she said, brushing your apology off. She tried to smile at you, but it was weak, and it didn't reach her eyes. It was going to be hard for you to get out what you needed to say, you knew. You weren't good at expressing your emotions, and you'd never really admitted to Alexia what an important role she had played in your life. You tried to show her through actions, but your words earlier had undone anything you'd accomplished in terms of letting her know how much you appreciated her.
"No, it's not fine. I was completely unfair to you. I didn't mean what I said, not at all. I... you've been... for me..." You trailed off, words getting jumbled. "I don't know why this is so hard for me to say."
"It's alright, pequeña, I get it," Alexia said, and she did sound less upset, like she knew what you were trying to say.
"I'm not used to having people in my life that care. I mean, I am now, because I have you and the team, but it still surprises me sometimes when I do something, and people... people care about what happens to me. You've always cared, though. Even when I was an angsty 16 year old with an attitude problem, and I didn't want you to care, you did anyway."
You take a big breath, trying to steady your voice. "You've been more of a parent to me than anyone. I value your opinion, I really appreciate that you care enough to be mad at me when I do something stupid. I'm sorry I said otherwise, because that wasn't true. I was just frustrated, but you deserve better than that. I'm really sorry about what I said, and I'm sorry that I don't express how much I appreciate everything you've done for me."
You take a peak at Alexia once you've finished talking, and find her looking out the window, jaw set tightly. At first, you think she's upset about something that you said. You see her lip wobble slightly, though, before she bites down on it, and realize what's actually going on. Your captain schools her features, before turning to you.
"Thank you for apologizing. I... I was hurt by what you said. I can't help but worry about you, and I know I probably go overboard with it sometimes, but I look at you and see the scared 16 year old you were when you got here, and all I want to do is protect you."
Alexia shuffled closer to you on the couch. "And I know you appreciate me, pequeña. You might not say it, but you show it. You don't need to thank me for caring about you, though. You shouldn't ever feel like you have to thank anyone for that. You deserve love, pequeña, I hope you know that."
You fall somewhat unsteadily into her arms, which wrap around you in a comforting embrace. You blink your tears away, wondering how your apology to Alexia turned into her comforting you, but that was the magic of Alexia Putellas.
"Y/n?” She says, chin resting on top of your head.
"Yeah?"
"Did you really do all those things you said you did?" She sounds slightly ill at the idea, and you wince, wishing you hadn't overshared all of those details.
"Yeah," you answer meekly.
"Dios mio," she mumbles.
"I'll sell the motorcycle," you say placatingly. Alexia lets out a short laugh at that, pulling back from you to look you in the eye.
"I know you will. You aren't ever riding that thing again."
"Well..." You said, unable to stop yourself from glancing towards where you had parked said motorcycle.
"You did not... drive it here... to apologize to me..." Alexia choked out, baffled.
"I did," she groans in exasperation. "But only because I'm taking it back to the dealership right after this. I called, they're gonna buy it back off me." You smile sheepishly at her.
She glares at you. "You better be telling the truth."
"I am, Ale, I promise." You rise, heading back towards the door.
"Good. Off you go, then. Get rid of that deathtrap. And wear your helmet. And drive under the speed limit. And stick to side streets, not busy ones. And-"
"-Alexia, I've been riding it for a year, I'll be fine." You say, fighting the urge to roll your eyes. The blonde looks genuinely anxious at the idea of you driving off on it. "I promise, the dealership isn't far from here, and I'll text you once I'm back home."
She nods, looking at the motorcycle parked outside with an expression full of disdain. "Drive safe," she says finally, and you promise that you will.
-----
You did drive safe. It wasn't your fault that someone ran a red light, or that it just happened to occur right as you were in the middle of the intersection. It wasn't your fault that the car practically t-boned you, the last minute braking doing very little to ease the impact. It wasn't your fault that you were thrown off the bike, sliding and rolling painfully along the pavement until you came to a stop several feet away.
It wasn't your fault.
Still, as you looked up at the sky, feeling yourself begin to lose consciousness, you knew that the fact that it wasn't your fault would not get you out of trouble with Alexia. She couldn't kill you if you were already dead, though, you thought. That was horrifying, and you jerked your eyes back open, trying to stay awake. It was no use, though, and your eyes closed against your will, head rolling weakly to the side on the concrete as spots flooded your vision, until everything around you was dark and quiet.
-----
HA.
part 2 tomorrow :)
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Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.
Chapter fifteen ⭐︎ I thought the plane was going down, how’d you turn it right around?
Warnings: slight angst, fluff, a lot of fluff, alcohol consumption, clingy!reader, drunk!reader
Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader
Summary: Steve gets to know a side of you, you have never shown him before, and he takes the final step towards realization.
Word count: 10k+
Author’s note: SO @hellfire--cult and I have been waiting for this chapter (and especially for the next one). I'm so happy that we're finally here, and as always I'm giving a special shoutout to my lovely Roe, who not only helped with ideas but also wrote the whole last paragraph, the drive home and all the fluff at Steve's house. Give her all the love she deserves ♡ ilysm roe thank youuuu
Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter ⭐︎ Next Chapter
♡
Red, white and blue colors flash before your eyes, everywhere you look as you walk through the grocery store with Max. You can’t even bear to look at the holiday themed snacks and decorations on the shelves. All week, people have been preparing for a holiday, you used to love, now it’s nothing but a reminder of what you lost – of what Max lost.
You avoided going to Big Buy’s all week, for this exact reason.
But now you were the one who offered to go inside, when Eddie was the one who wanted to get the pre-drinks, you don’t even know why you did it, maybe it was to get away from Dustin’s and Lucas’s banter, or maybe you just wanted to prepare yourself for something much bigger.
The Fun Fair takes place this year, just as it did, last year. And you friends wanted to celebrate the Fourth of July there. You don’t mind, you really don’t, but every place you turn today, reminds you of a dear friend you lost.
Max walks beside you quietly. She looks around with heavy eyes and tension in her shoulders, she’s fidgeting with the bracelet that Lucas gifted to her, and keeps her eyes on the ground.
You didn’t say anything yet, not wanting to trigger any more sadness. You’re surprised that she even offered to go inside with you, she could’ve waited and stayed with the guys, but she didn’t.
“This day sucks.”
These are the first words she spoke out loud, ever since you stepped inside the store.
“Yeah,” you mumble, quietly, not knowing what to say, because all you can think about is Billy, and how he died on this exact day, one year ago, when you were still so unaware of the dark truth that lied beneath this town, when you thought that it was the fire that killed him and not one of Vecna’s creatures.
You weren’t even there, but thinking about it makes you sick and angry. You can’t even imagine what Max must’ve felt like that night. Or what she is feeling now.
When you stop in the drink aisle, you look around for the beer Eddie asked for, but instead your eyes fall on the one brand that Billy always used to buy. Sometimes he’d bring a six pack over and leave some cans in your fridge for some other time, you are pretty sure that there are still two leftover cans hidden behind all the other drinks in your fridge.
A sigh falls from your lips, “yeah, it does.”
She glances at you, sadness settling into her features, when she sees the way your eyes fill with grief.
“Billy would roll his eyes at us, right now,” she mumbles, trying to crack a joke.
A small chuckle escapes you, and you turn to look at her with a weak smile on your face, “yes, he would.”
She purses her lips as she looks at the beer, “are you gonna let me drink tonight?”
You scrunch your nose, and shake your head, “are you crazy?” You scoff, as you step forward and reach for the beers, Eddie asked for, and the ones Billy would have gotten for himself. “How about you turn twenty one first, and then I’ll let you drink.”
Max laughs at you and rolls her eyes.
“You’re not even twenty one, and you’re drinking – oh! And buying the beers with a fake ID probably!”
“Shush,” you wave your hand at her when an employee walks past you, giving you both a weird look.
“I’m very close to twenty one,” you whisper.
“You’re not even twenty yet–”
“I’m turning twenty, this year. Now stop arguing with me, and get yourself a coke or something.”
Max groans at you, “fine,” she murmurs as she follows you, “why are you even getting any drinks now when you can buy some at the Fair?”
“I’m pretty sure that Eddie doesn’t want to buy any of those overpriced drinks that taste like absolute shit.”
She snorts, “he shouldn’t even be drinking, he’s driving.”
“Don’t worry, he’ll walk you all home if he gets drunk.”
Her jaw drops, and annoyance flashes in her eyes, “are you serious–”
You laugh at the look on her face, shaking your head at her, “I’m just kidding, when does Eddie ever get drunk?” You chuckle, “he’ll have one beer tops, no more, he’ll sober up till then, and if not then uh… Steve will drive you home.”
“Okay,” she sighs, as the momentarily amusement leaves her face again, and the sadness begins to sink back in, making you much more aware of your own.
“Hey, Max?”
She turns back to you, and raises her eyebrows in question.
“If you feel overwhelmed at some point, you can find me and we can leave, at any time, okay?”
She smiles a little and nods her head.
“Okay,” she whispers, “same goes for you, if you want to leave, I’ll go with you.”
“Okay,” you smile at her, “now let’s go pay for these and get out of here,” you mumble as you gesture to the beer in your hands.
You feel relief rushing through you once you are out of the busy store again. The golden evening sun hits your skin, still blessing it with warmth, the air around you smells like summer, like fresh cut grass, hot pavement and honeysuckle. The wind kisses your skin and blows through your hair, it’s warm yet refreshing, it feels nice.
“Did you buy that for me?” Dustin grins at you, pointing at the beers when you get into the passenger seat.
Eddie glares at him through the rearview mirror.
“Very funny, Dusty Bun.”
Lucas laughs at the nickname, nudging his shoulder against Dustin’s, “Dusty Bun,” he cackles, wiggling his brows.
“Shut up, dude.”
“You kids are too young to even think about trying beer,” you glare at the three teens in the back, most specifically at Lucas, who’s had some before.
His smile falls a little, and he clears his throat, “that was one time.”
“Yeah, it better stay that way,” you point at him.
Max snorts at the glare on your face.
“Yes, mom.”
Eddie and Dustin chuckle.
Your jaw drops, and you furrow your brows at the teen who is squished between Max and Dustin.
“You act like a mom sometimes!” Lucas raises his hands up in surrender, shrugging at you.
“No, I don’t!”
“Yeah, you do, you’re mama bear,” Eddie snorts, making Dustin laugh louder.
“Yeah, you’re not fooling us with your grumpy act.”
You squint your eyes at the curly head, who is grinning happily at you.
“Just accept it, Sweetheart,” Eddie chuckles, “you’re the mom of the group.”
“No, I only joined this group a few months back, there has to be a different mom–”
“Oh no, we only had single dad Steve,” Lucas giggles, wiggling his eyebrows at you, “but we got a mom and a dad now, so…”
The smug look on his face, and the teasing in his eyes, isn’t exactly hard to miss. You know exactly what he is going at, what he has been going at for the past few months now.
Sometimes, you can’t help but wonder if he somehow knows about your feelings for Steve, if he always knew about them, or if he is simply just teasing and still in the dark about everything.
You are good at hiding your feelings, you always have been, no one ever found out about your feelings for Steve unless you wanted them to, but if there is someone who you wouldn’t underestimate, then it’s definitely Lucas, he is too smart for his own good, sometimes.
Eddie snorts beside you, mumbling, “mommy and daddy.”
You elbow him, into his side, earning a groan from him.
“That wasn’t very nice!” Eddie grumbles as he shoots you a glare, and presses his hand against his stomach.
“Don’t be so dramatic, Edward.”
He squints his eyes at you.
“Who is Eddie then?” Dustin asks.
“He’s the cool uncle,” Lucas shrugs.
“Damn right, now stop yapping,” Eddie mumbles as he takes a look over his shoulder, “are you ready to throw up Hot Dogs after going on the roller coaster?”
All three of them groan in disgust, scrunching up their faces, making him laugh.
You shake your head at him when he starts laughing.
“You’re such a menace.”
Eddie only chuckles at you, he starts the car and turns up the music, and he rolls down the windows before he speeds out of the parking lot.
You embrace the moments of peace before the chaos of the fair hits you, screaming children, crowds of people, and the overwhelming smell of food on every corner are something you are not looking forward to despite the hollowness in your stomach. You couldn’t get anything down the past few days, you nearly threw up this morning when you walked into the diner with Eddie, and the smell of Bacon hit you.
The wind weaves through your hair as Eddie drives down the main road.
The sound of music distracts you from your sad thoughts.
The thought of him, filling your heart with life and your soul with hope.
He grounds you in your worst moments, and he doesn’t even know it.
-
The fairground is alive with music and screaming children, the sound of the roller coasters moving, conversations and laughter from every corner. The dazzling lights are a stark contrast against the dark sky, the smell of food wafts through the air.
Robin and Vickie are standing next to Steve, giggling about something as they sip on their mixed beers. He is looking around, trying to catch sight of you, but you are nowhere to be found, and he is beginning to worry.
Max and El had dragged you away for a roller coaster ride, but that was over an hour ago, and he hasn’t seen you ever since.
Max had warned him before, when she reminded him of what this day means to you, of what happened a year back, of what and who you had lost.
Steve doesn’t know how you deal with grief, how you feel on these kinds of days, there are too many of them in your life. He doesn’t know how you cope, he wishes that he could be there for you and give you a shoulder to lean on – but you aren’t very good at showing your true feelings or emotions, he only saw a glimpse of the truth that you hide behind those high walls you built around yourself and he doubts that you would come to him for comfort.
A dreadful feeling is gnawing in his chest the more time passes without you being seen.
“Hey Dingus, we’re going on the Ferris Wheel,” Robin nudges his shoulder, grinning at him.
He blinks, tearing his eyes away from the crowds, he nods at his best friend.
“Sure, have fun.”
Robin furrows her brows as she takes in the sight of his frown, “are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” he murmurs and plasters a smile on his face, “go and have fun with your girl.”
She hesitates, her smile becoming weaker now, “you should go find Eddie or Dustin.”
“Yeah, I will, in a second.”
“Your feet are not glued to the ground are they?” Vickie asks, chuckling.
“Yeah, you’ve been stuck in this spot for like thirty minutes now!” Robin exclaims as she points her ringed finger at him, eyeing the way he is leaning against the wall with tension in his body.
Steve chuckles, and brings his hand up to the side of his face, cupping his cheek for a moment, “I’m just looking out for the kids.”
Robin snorts, though she gives him a suspicious look.
“Ah, but they’re not around,” she says, tilting her head as she gestures to all the strangers that surround the field, instead of the teens.
“I told them I’d be here if they needed anything,” he shrugs and waves his hand at her, “now go and have your kiss on the top of the Ferris Wheel.”
Robin slaps his shoulder, her cheeks taking on a deep red color, as Vickie giggles behind her.
He chuckles at her, wiggling his brows and smirking at his best friend.
Robin rolls her eyes and turns away from him, she offers her hand out to the redhead, who reaches for it, though with a blush on her cheeks and a shy smile on her lips.
“See you later, Dingus,” Robin waves at Steve, not giving him the chance to respond before she drags her girl away and pushes through the crowds with her.
Steve’s eyes follow them until he can no longer see them as they get lost in the midst of the chaos. Laughing children run around, chasing each other, a group of teenage boys carrying drinks they shouldn’t be allowed to buy, two young women walk past him, giggling amongst themselves as they eye him with interest in their eyes, Steve pays no mind to them, not even bothering to spare them a look despite the very obvious glances he is getting, even as they had already passed him.
His eyes follow a different sight and his ears perk up at the sound of giggles that sound like yours, his lips twitch at the sound and his heart flutters wildly in his chest.
He pushes himself off the tree he is leaning against and turns to look around. Steve’s hazel eyes soften the moment he finally sees you.
You are standing in a circle with Eddie and his bandmates who all keep pestering you over something. Eddie leans closer to you and pinches your cheek, while Gareth jumps around you like some hyper puppy, his curls bouncing and his face flickering with amusement when you keep waving your hand at him.
Steve smiles at the giggle that falls from your lips when Eddie swats your hand away after you ruffle his curls.
He watches the way your lips move as you stare at him with a smug look on your face, saying something to him that makes him clutch his chest and gasp dramatically.
Steve shakes his head as the metalhead lunges at you and you squeal in surprise before you turn around and run off with a giggle, bolting into the crowd with Eddie and Gareth hot on your heels, while Jeff and Grant follow the three of you slowly, shaking their heads in amusement.
Surprise lingers inside of him, Steve had never seen you so playful before, he had never witnessed you letting loose and having genuine fun. You are always on guard, always hiding away behind your brooding act that is slowly becoming less and less visible.
Something has changed, something in your behavior has shifted in the past few weeks. You seem happier, you seem to smile more, you seem to be kinder to the people around you.
Your walls are still up, but the foundation has begun to crumble, just like his did.
You let him see a glimpse of something he never thought was even there, he saw your vulnerable side and your soft one, he saw how lovingly you treated your baby niece, he saw how sweet and gentle you could be – he saw the real you and it only made him weaker than ever before.
There was always a part of him that left him feeling weak whenever he was with you – it wasn’t a bad kind of weak, but it was one that scared him.
It doesn’t scare him anymore.
He embraces the weakness now.
Something, someone crashes into his chest, making him stumble back from the force, when he looks down, he finds you staring up at him, with your arms now wrapped around his waist and a softened look in your eyes as a smile rests on your lips. The dazzling, colorful lights from the rollercoaster and the ferris wheel only brighten the color of your eyes, making him get lost in them so easily.
He feels your arms around his torso, and your hands on his back, your chest is now pressed against his and if he didn’t know any better, he’d say that the look in your eyes is a dreamy one as they look into his.
The warmth in his chest blooms, the smile on his lips grows bigger, something in his stomach flutters when you stand on your tippy toes and remind him of the height difference between the two of you.
“Hi Stevie,” you say softly.
He would be lying if he said, he isn’t caught off guard by the tone in your voice and the look in your eyes, by your arms that are wrapped around him and your body that is pressed against his, so tightly and intimately, despite all the eyes that could see.
“Hi Blondie,” he smiles as he slowly wraps his arms around you and acts on his feelings, when he brings you closer.
The smell of your perfume is intoxicating and it does nothing to weaken the fluttering in his stomach. You smell like the cotton candy that you had shared with Max earlier and the beer you probably had been drinking all night, which is surprising, considering how much you despise the bitter taste of beer.
“I missed you.”
His eyes widen in surprise, and his eyebrows shoot up, the fluttering in his stomach now growing even stronger than before.
You woke up in each other's arms this morning, you even sat at the kitchen table and drank your morning coffee together before you left to meet up with Eddie.
But you missed him.
You missed him, like he missed you.
Maybe it’s the alcohol talking, or maybe not – he hopes not.
“Yeah?” He whispers.
You nod, your eyes flicker to his lips, before they move back up, to meet his.
“I missed you too, Blondie.”
He nearly crumbles when your smile grows even bigger and a blush creeps up on your face, a breathy, small giggle falls from your lips. And then, you surprise him once again, when you bury your face in his chest and hug him tightly.
His heart rate picks up and his breathing becomes heavy from all the emotions inside of him.
He certainly never met this side of you before,and he never even knew that you could become much softer than what he had already seen of you.
Without looking around to make sure that you are away from prying eyes, he wraps his arms tighter around you, and hugs you in a way he wanted to all night.
Confusion, adoration and happiness floods through him, all at once.
Here he thought that this day would bring out some darkness in you, that you would hide in a corner and try to drink away your sorrows but instead the alcohol in your system brought something else out in you.
As Steve holds you in the middle of the fairground and you slide your palm over his chest, resting your hand above the place where his heart beats strongly, he feels himself falling into your embrace, losing all his vision of the people and the things before him, losing all the sounds around him, no longer feeling the ground beneath his feet – all he sees is you, all he hears is the beating of his own heart, all he feels is you, only you.
And as though, it didn’t hit him hard enough already, you place your chin on his chest and you tilt your head up to look at him, giving him a sweet smile, “kissy?” You ask, puckering your lips.
He could melt into a puddle, right then and there.
Despite not wanting to, he lets his eyes roam the space around you, making sure that none of your friends are watching, before he leans in to place a kiss on your lips – one that is way too quick for your liking, the pout that follows your puckered lips makes his heart burst.
You look at him with literal puppy eyes, glinting with a pleading look.
He almost doesn’t recognize you – you are not the Blondie that he saw a few hours back, but he is not complaining in the slightest, he really likes this side of you.
Cupping your cheeks, he rests his large palms against your skin, his fingertips getting lost in your hair as he leans down to kiss you again, smacking his lips against yours, he delivers a loud kiss, one that makes you giggle when he pulls away again and looks down at you with a lazy smile on his face.
“How much did you drink?” Steve asks, chuckling when you keep staring at him with a big smile.
“Just a little bit,” you slur, and raise your hand to show him as you furrow your brows and hold your thumb and pointer finger into an L shape, “so much.”
He laughs as he tucks your hair behind your ears, “alright.”
“I want something else now.”
“What, more alcohol?” Steve asks, raising his brows.
You shake your head, scrunching up your nose in a way that makes him smile as he looks at you adoringly.
“No, I think I had too much already.”
“Yeah, I think so too, honey,” he murmurs, the nickname rolling off his tongue easily, almost normal, “you don’t feel sick, do you?”
“No, just thirsty.”
“Alright, let’s get you something to drink then,” he says, unable to stop smiling, when you look at him this way. He moves his hands away from your face and he reaches for your hand, sliding his palm against your own, he entwines his fingers with yours, and you welcome his action, happily.
Steve isn’t drunk, he didn’t have a single sip of alcohol this evening, not a single drag of Argyle’s joint and yet, he feels as though he is under the influence of something strong, his mind is in a haze, that careless and freeing feeling lingers in his chest, happiness and giddiness rushes through him and he feels as though he is floating with you.
He can’t even find it in himself to care if anyone sees him with you like this – smiling at each other, hugging and kissing one another, holding hands, and acting like a couple. He knows your friends are here, but Steve just doesn’t give a damn – not even when Heidi walks past him with her friends and they all look at you weirdly.
He hears the hushed whispers, he sees the squinted eyes as they look you up and down and their eyes fall on your entwined fingers. He pays no mind to the way they look at him, but irritation sparks at him when they keep staring at you. He can see the judgment, and the jealousy, it’s so obvious.
Steve holds back the eyeroll and he grasps your hand tighter as he begins to drag you away from the prying eyes and the whispers of envy. He would rather kiss you and flip them off but he cannot risk this, he can’t risk you two getting caught. Rumors would circulate, words would get twisted and it would only be a matter of time until all your friends would find out.
And he isn’t ready to get caught, he isn’t ready to lose this, to lose you.
He glances down at you, seeing the smile that didn’t leave your face just yet. You are unaware to all the eyes on you, to the looks you were given, you are still holding onto his hand as tight as before, stepping closer to him when a group of boys rush past you.
You turn to him and raise your head to glance at him, shooting him a sweet smile as you squeeze his hand, causing his heart to flutter and his smile to reappear.
You are so cute like this.
He pulls you closer and shields you from anyone who brushes past you as you walk through the crowd together, getting lost in the chaotic field, where the music is louder and the people are too.
Steve looks around, trying to catch sight of the teens or Eddie and his bandmates but he only sees the town people that he couldn’t care less about while you follow him like some lost puppy, clinging to his side and looking up with big eyes, every few seconds or so.
You both get in line at the drink stall, your hands are still joined, fingers entwined and arms still pressed together. You stumble into him, prompting him to hold you a little tighter.
“I’m sorry,” you slur as you reach your free hand up to grab his arm.
“It’s fine,” he chuckles at you, adoring you a little more and more as the seconds pass.
You are drunk – not tipsy, not slightly drunk, no, you are genuinely and definitely drunk. And as he stands here with you, eying you closely and watching the way you keep looking up at him with your widened pupils and your lazy smiles, he realizes that he had never actually witnessed you being drunk – high and tipsy? Sure. But never drunk.
“Why’d you drink so much, Blondie?”
“I didn’t even drink that much,” you shrug, “I’m just not used to drinking that beer.”
Steve raises his brows, knowing how much you despise the taste of regular beer. You only drink it when it’s mixed with something.
“What kind of beer?”
You furrow your eyebrows, your eyes flash with confusion, you seemingly can’t remember the name of it.
You look down and your eyes widen when you find a discarded can on the grass, you point your finger at it, “that one.”
Steve’s eyes follow your gaze and the direction your finger is pointing at, he raises his eyebrows again.
“You don’t even like beer that much,” he mumbles and turns back to you.
“Billy did,” you shrug.
Oh.
His features relax again and his shoulders slump a little, realization flickers in his eyes.
You didn’t drink for fun, you were trying to forget about the sadness and the grief that must’ve lingered all day.
He is surprised that the alcohol didn’t have a negative effect on you. Drinking while feeling sad can worsen those emotions, the alcohol can transform them into a darker sadness or even into anger and despair.
But you seem fine, happy even.
If only he knew that he is the reason for it.
“The fireworks are about to start,” you say, pulling him out of his thoughts.
He blinks.
“Yeah,” Steve nods.
“Do you want to watch them with me?”
His heart skips a beat at the softness in your voice, at the hopeful look in your eyes and the sweet smile on your lips.
Of course he does.
“Yeah,” he smiles, nodding. “I’d love to.”
Your eyes crinkle as you beam at him, stealing his breath away with simple reactions like these.
Steve is not even sure if anyone had ever looked at him this way, no one has ever even made him feel this way, no one had ever stolen his breath away just from simply looking at him the way you do now.
You take him by surprise when you stand on your tippy toes and lean closer to him to place a kiss on his cheek, leaving him a blushing mess.
Your giggle sounds like music to his ears, your touch drives him crazy as you squeeze yourself against him and lay your head on his chest as your arms come around his torso again.
He could fall to his knees right here, right now.
Is this the real you?
Is this the side you’ve been hiding from the world?
Is this the way you would have always been with him, had you not experienced so much loss and pain?
Steve wraps his arms around you, unable to hold back from showing and giving you the affection that you are blessing him with in this moment, even when the anxiety of getting caught still lingers.
He cups your cheeks and leans closer to your ear, “where do you wanna watch the fireworks?”
“Maybe the woods? Or the big field?” You ask as you look at him with big eyes, “so we can be away from all these annoying people?”
He laughs when you gesture to the loud fairground visitors.
The lights that flicker around you kiss your beautiful face and your skin that he wants to feel on his at any time, your lips that always look so inviting, you look so delicate, so soft, so gorgeous, you look like someone that could ruin his life and right in this moment, he doesn’t even mind it, he would let you.
It hits him, in this second, it hits him just how bad he’s got it for you.
Steve Harrington is down bad.
Down bad to a point in which he almost calls you ‘my girl’ when he is about to order your drink, he catches himself just in time but he can’t hide the blush that creeps up on his face.
You don’t seem to notice though, you swing your joined hands back and forth and look around with a contentment in your relaxed features.
He hands you the ice cold pepsi after placing the ten dollar bill on the small desk, telling the teen behind the counter to keep the change.
“That was nice of you,” you say as you both start walking away from the drink stall and from the crowds.
“What, letting him keep the change?”
You nod and let go of his hand to open your can.
“Poor guy has to work on a holiday, he should get a good tip,” Steve shrugs, already missing the feeling of your hand in his, he raises his arm and wraps it around your shoulder instead, pulling you closer against him.
Your lips twitch at that, a smile forms on your face.
“Still, that was nice of you, you’re a nice guy,” you giggle.
“Well, I gotta make up for all the times I wasn’t a nice guy.”
You don’t say anything to that, you can’t. Steve doesn’t even blame you, you witnessed him in his worst moments, you were his target, more than once.
You shot back at him but your words weren’t hurtful, your insults and your jabs were never personal. You got under his skin, but not in the way he got under yours.
He truly wasn’t a nice guy to you and that might be one of his biggest regrets. He was mean, awful even and now as he looks at you, at the cute frown on your face as you pop the can, at the way you take a sip of your favorite drink and smile afterwards, he can’t understand how he could ever treat you so unkindly, how he didn’t see you before.
You might’ve been rough, snarky and unapproachable but there was never denying of how beautiful you are, how beautiful you have always been.
How come he never asked you out?
He might’ve never seen this side of you before and he only ever knew one side of you, but your snarkiness wouldn’t have kept King Steve away from you, if anything, your little act should’ve made him more intrigued.
And now he can’t help but wonder what things would have been like had he not treated you the way he did, had he asked you out and fought for a chance with you.
Could’ve things been different then?
Would you have fallen in love with him?
Would you have prevented the heartbreak that Nancy had cursed him with two years ago?
The pain from his last relationship no longer matters to Steve, not since you, but this question still lingers.
“This spot is perfect.”
You pull him out of the past and back into the presence with a tug on his hand.
Steve looks around, you are no longer surrounded by people, instead it’s the trees that are around you and him, you’re at the edge of the forest, not far enough to drown at the music and the chatter but quiet enough to hear your voice clearer now, it’s much darker out here but he can still see you well enough.
You close your eyes and drink your pepsi, completely unaware of his unwavering glances. A sigh leaves your lips and you place the now half full can on the ground before you step closer to him and reach for his hand again, taking a look at the watch around his wrist, you squint your eyes and lean down closer, “it’s about to start any minute.”
He smiles at you, nodding his head slowly, “yeah.”
Steve feels the urge to pull you tight against him, to hold you and kiss you like he never did before.
You look up and meet his eyes when you notice his staring, a smile appears on your lips, “what?” You ask with a soft giggle.
He shakes his head and shrugs, “nothing.”
You bite your lip and he wants nothing more than to grab your face and kiss you breathless.
You raise your eyebrows at him and stare back at him, stumbling over air as you try to take a step closer to him, making you both chuckle at your drunken clumsiness, your hand falls against his body, while he grabs your waist, steadying you on your own feet, “whoa, easy tiger.”
You giggle at the nickname, making his own smile widen.
“You’re really drunk, aren’t you?”
You don’t even deny it, in fact, you don’t even answer the question as you keep staring up at him, keeping your hands against his chest as your eyes flicker from the spitcurl that hangs over his forehead, his eyes and his lips.
Steve’s stomach flutters just the way his heart does, his skin tingles beneath from your touches, the look in your eyes makes him want to kiss you even more.
“You’re feeling okay though, right?” He whispers as he slowly brings his hand up to the side of your face and he cups your cheek.
“Yeah, I’m okay now,” you nod, leaning into his touch, “I-I just… I miss him.”
Steve might never understand the friendship you had with Billy, he only knew the ugly sides of him but you knew more, you saw deeper, you were his friend – something Steve didn’t even know Billy had, he was sure the guy didn’t even know what the term ‘friendship’ even meant.
“And that’s okay, Blondie,” he says, giving you a sad smile, “it’s okay to miss people and to grieve for them.”
Tears well up in your eyes and your lips curl downwards.
Steve didn’t mean for this to happen, he didn’t mean to make you cry.
“Hey,” he whispers, pulling you closer as he catches the first tear with his thumb, “it’s okay, honey.”
You sniffle and roll your eyes at yourself, “he would punch me in the face for crying,” you joke.
Steve can’t help but laugh.
“And he’d make fun of me for being with you, he would like–” you pause and lean in to peck his lips, “he would smack my head if I did that in front of him!” You say with a giggle, despite the tears that still keep falling.
His cheeks heat up at the kiss, the need for more growing strong in his chest.
“He really didn’t like me, huh?”
“Not one fucking bit, Stevie,” you chuckle sadly.
Steve wonders how things would be if he was still here, would this thing between you even work out?
Would Billy keep you away from him?
“But nothing could take me away from you, he’d just have to suck it up,” you whisper as you peck his lips again, shutting down the worries in his head.
He almost feels his pulse in his throat as his heart beats faster, your words doing little to calm the beating of his heart.
“Oh?” Is the only thing he can say as all the other words freeze in his brain.
You nod as you look into his eyes deeply, refusing to break eye contact. He notices the way your chest starts moving faster as your breathing gets heavier, he sees the way your smile transforms into a nervous frown and your throat bobs as you try to come up with words.
His breath hitches in his throat when you whisper his name shakily.
“I–”
Whatever you were about to say gets lost in the wind as the loud explosion in the sky cuts you off and tears your attention away from him. The colors pop in the sky, illuminating the darkened space around you both.
You tilt your head to watch the lights that reflect in your eyes, the smile you wore before makes its way back into your pretty face, the tension in your body disappears and you relax into him again.
But while your drunken mind gets distracted by all of this so easily, Steve only really sees you. He doesn’t look up just yet, he lets himself admire you for a moment.
Your eyes light up as they meet his for a brief second, flashing with awe.
His heart could jump out of his chest from how hard it’s beating, his knees could give out any moment now.
“Look!” You beam at him as you point your finger at the blue colors.
His gaze follows yours but it returns to your face so quickly, something about you pulls him in, a magnet, a string, a strong connection – he can’t identify it yet, but he feels like his whole being yearns for you and not just sexually.
He wants to keep doing this, he wants to keep holding your hand, he wants to keep hugging you, he wants to keep spending time with you like this, he wants to stand under the night sky with you, and he especially wants to do this.
“Hey,” he whispers as he cups your cheeks with both hands, pulling your attention back to him.
You greet him with an adoring smile, “hi,” you whisper.
Steve caresses your cheek, he is starting to lean in closer, fading out the colors that flash in his peripheral vision, before his lips can even touch yours, you throw your arms around his neck and beat him to it, pressing your lips against his over and over again before you move on to both of his cheeks and even the tip of his nose as you start showering him in kisses, catching him off guard completely.
Steve giggles in surprise, his cheeks match the colors that lighten up the sky as they glow red.
And then, you finally pull him into a longer kiss.
You close your eyes and he does too, your lips start moving slowly, passionately. You rest your hands on his neck and steal his breath away by deepening the kiss as you slip your tongue into his mouth and let him have a taste of your sweetness, the cotton candy and the pepsi still linger on your lips.
Your noses bump into each other and you break the kiss with a giggle, giving him a sweet smile before you lean back in again, kissing and continuing to steal his breath away, not knowing what you have just done to his poor heart, how much life, how much hope you have filled it with.
A smile, a giggle, a simple kiss with you is all it takes for all the defense around him to crumble into dust.
Something he thought he lost seeps back into his heart, something he thought that stayed in the past and to never be touched again blooms in him.
Everything inside of him screams in joy, his stomach doing somersaults, his skin prickling from the excitement, his lips tugging into a smile even through the kiss that he deepens more and more.
This kiss is different from all the other ones you have shared before, this one means something, this one won’t lead to you tearing each other’s clothes off. No, this is just a kiss.
A kiss that means everything.
A kiss that changes everything.
You stole his breath completely and made it your own, you stole his heart, his soul, his whole being.
And the noise of the fireworks, the sparks igniting from them, match those in Steve's heart. Just exploding, bursting, burning him from inside out.
And he embraces the feeling fully.
He wants more of this, more of you.
He wants to cross a line, he wants you in a whole new way and he is no longer ashamed to admit it to himself.
It feels like forever as you stand there beneath the sparkling sky, kissing and staying in each other’s embrace as you both savor every second of this moment, only pulling away to catch your breaths before you lean back in for more.
The fireworks stop, but only those in the sky.
Your lips are still moving with each other, your tongues still mingling together, whines and whimpers fall from you – tonight, they don’t fill him with lust and need, no, tonight they fill him with adoration.
Your arms tighten around his neck, your nose is flush against his as you refuse to break the kiss but the lack of air makes it impossible and it forces you away from him, though you don’t pull away too far, only enough to catch your breath.
Steve leans his forehead against yours, slowly opening his eyes to look into yours, his heart flutters yet again when he sees how wide your eyes are, how they flicker with deep emotions.
Unable to hold back, he leans in to peck your puffy lips one more time.
“Steve,” you whisper as your hands begin to slip from his shoulders to his chest.
“Yes?”
“Can I be with you tonight?”
He furrows his brows at your question, he wants you to be with him tonight, he wants you with him every night.
“Of course, Blondie.”
You smile at him though it’s a weak one and it makes him frown.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” you shake your head, scrunching your nose.
“Are you feeling sick?” He asks, tilting your head up.
You shake your head again, “just really tired.”
Your words are still slurred, the alcohol still deep in your system.
“Let’s go home then.”
“Do you want to go?” You ask, looking at him with a cute frown on your face as you tilt your head to the side, “I-I can still wait if you want to stay here longer.”
Steve smiles at you, shaking his head, “no, I want to go home with you.”
The smile on your lips replaces the frown.
He brushes his thumb against your bottom lip and stares at you adoringly.
“Come on, we should tell Eddie.”
You pick up your discarded drink before you slide your fingers through his, intertwining your fingers with his again.
“Let’s go,” he whispers, squeezing your hand.
You follow him without a single word, walking beside him quietly as you make your way out of the woods and back into the fair where the lights are bright and he can see you better now.
It’s still just as crowded as it was before and just as loud.
Steve keeps you close, glancing at you, he notices the squinted eyes and how displeased you look by all the noises and the people around you.
He holds your hand tighter, giving it another reassuring squeeze.
“I can’t wait to go to sleep,” you mumble, taking the last few sips of your soda before you throw it into the trashcan you pass by. You wrap your free hand around his bicep and squish your cheek against it.
Steve’s smile widens, his eyes glint with nothing but fondness.
“There you are!”
Steve turns to find Eddie walking towards you both, throwing his hands up with a worried look on his face that slowly begins to disappear when he realizes that you have been with him all this time, though his eyebrows pull together when he sees your entwined hands and the closeness between you.
Steve expects you to run away from him and into your best friend’s arms, but you don’t, you stick to his side.
“Hi Eddie!” You mumble lazily as a smile appears on your face.
You all halt in your tracks once you meet in the middle.
“Hey sweets, are you okay?” He asks, eying you up and down one more time.
“Peachy!”
“Where have you been?”
Steve clears his throat, “we watched the fireworks from the woods and now I’m gonna take this one home, she’s tired.”
Eddie squints his eyes at him, giving a once over now – the way he has been doing it for some time now, like he is suspicious of his actions, like he wants to figure him out so he can protect you from him and irritates Steve.
“I can take her home,” Eddie shrugs.
“No!” You protest, clinging to Steve’s arm, you hold him tighter not wanting to be pulled away from him.
Steve chuckles softly, he looks down at you adoringly.
“Don’t worry, Eddie. I’ll take her home to sleep, maybe shove some coffee down her throat, see if that helps. I am sensing I’m having a hungover Blondie tomorrow.”
Eddie raises one eyebrow at him, he crosses his arms over his chest, defensively. And Steve notices it from the corner of his eye, causing the smile to leave his face as a frown etches into his features instead.
“I’m not doing anything if that's what you’re fucking thinking, Munson.”
Eddie raises his hands up in surrender, “sorry, can’t blame me for caring.”
That… Stings.
That actually hurts his feelings.
He may not be as close to Eddie as you are to him, but Eddie knows him well enough to know that he would never do anything like this.
“You really think I’m that disgusting?” Steve asks, not bothering to hide the hurt in his voice.
Eddie sighs.
Of course he doesn’t.
He is just protective of his best friend, of her feelings.
Neither of you notice the way you keep looking between them, completely lost and confused.
“I don’t know what kind of deal you both have, Steve, but I’m allowed to care. I would’ve given her the same look if the roles were reversed.”
“She’s not like that,” Steve argues instantly.
Eddie sighs again, uncrossing his arms, he drops them to his side as he takes a look at the sky with a long sigh.
“I know she’s not, I know you’re not. Just… take care of her…”
Steve is still hurt by Eddie’s reaction, by the accusing look in his eyes, like Steve would do anything to hurt you.
He knows that it might only be because you are his best friend, because he feels protective of you, because he doesn’t want anything bad to happen to you – but to know that he was worried about you while you were with him makes him feel sick.
Steve would never do anything to hurt someone, let alone you.
“Can we go now?” You ask, looking up at him with big eyes.
A weak smile appears on his face as he looks down at you, “yeah, we can go.”
Steve doesn’t notice the way Eddie’s squinted eyes linger on him, the way he looks down at your hands, watching as Steve pulls you closer despite you being glued to his side already.
He can’t help but sigh when he sees the way you look at him, the dreaminess and the love is so evident and it worries him, your feelings for Steve worry him because he fears that he will break your heart, that he will rip it out of your chest.
Eddie is so focused on his worries, he doesn’t even see the way Steve looks at you.
“I’m gonna call you tomorrow, Eds.”
Eddie smiles at you, “yeah, alright.”
Steve nods at Eddie, only giving him a small smile as he starts pulling you away.
“Bye man,” Steve mumbles as he brushes past him.
“Bye Eddie!”
“Yeah, sleep well, sweets.” Eddie smiles, waving at you.
Walking away from the fairground and leaving behind the crowds of people and your best friend feels like a relief to Steve. He can’t move past the glances the metalhead gave to him, the worried looks he spared you as though you were in some kind of danger with him.
He can’t confront him, he can’t talk to him about it and tell him how wrong he is though, he would give away his feelings and he can’t do that.
You walk beside him quietly, not a single word falls from your lips, you just keep holding his hand, looking up at him every once in a while until you make it to his car.
Steve opens the door for you, begrudgingly letting go of you so you can get inside, he helps you buckle in your seatbelt, a surprised chuckle falls from his lips when you use the opportunity to kiss his cheek and he can’t even help himself but do the same to you, smacking his lips against your cheek to give you a loud smooch, one that makes you giggle.
He can see the tiredness in your eyes, the way you slowly blink and how you sink deeper into the car seat as you yawn.
“Let's get you into bed, honey.”
Steve keeps the music on low during the drive home, you keep dozing off as your head keeps falling to the side but every time you open your eyes again, you look at him and you keep your eyes on him, making him blush beneath your softened gaze.
And then, you make his heart swell and his chest vibrate when you place your hand on his thigh and smile at him sweetly.
Everything about you drives him crazy today.
Every glance, every touch, every word, every kiss.
You have brought something out in him, something that was buried deep inside, hidden and locked away but you have found the key, you unlocked it, you brought something back that he thought was impossible to ever resurface again and you made it yours, you made him yours, all yours.
And now, he wants to give you everything.
He wants to take care of you, he wants to shower you with affection, he wants to be the one for you.
You’re making things complicated but in the most amazing of ways, in the most beautiful of twists that he couldn’t believe would happen again for him. Your small glances are enough to turn a flame in his entire body, your hand on his thigh as he parks at his home enough to send butterflies in his stomach, butterflies that he swore died when Nancy broke his heart.
Your touch is enough to make him tremble and make his knees buckle, when he helps you out of his car, both of you laugh as you almost fall right on your ass, even with his help. He is happy. He is content. He is extremely giddy when he is with you, as if he were fourteen all over again.
Even when you are not like this, when you are not this bubbly uncaring self, he still enjoys his time with you. He enjoys the accidental snorts that make him laugh as you swat him to try to stop him from laughing. The happy delighted moans you give when you try his cooking. The out of nowhere conversations in the mornings that you two now share together.
He likes it when you put on that strong wall, it makes you look cute, it makes him want to break it down. He loves the small banter, the pretend fights when you two are with the whole group, the way you pinch his side when you walk past him when no one is looking. He adores it.
When he finally manages to get you inside, he immediately urges you into the kitchen, making you drink water, not pepsi, despite your pouts and your teary eyes which almost make him become a puddle on the floor. He also gives you a leftover chicken sandwich he had in his fridge so you would eat something to absorb the alcohol.
“Eat at least half of that.” He commands and you just grumble something, cutely so, underneath your breath as you take a bite. He knew you probably didn’t eat anything at the fair, a possible reason for your drunkenness.
“I’ll eat… if you give me a kiss.” And just like that you pucker your lips his way and his heart can barely handle it. He licks his lips before leaning towards you and placing them on yours in a soft peck, a quick one. You smile before taking the first bite, and when you swallow it seems as if it turns on the hunger in your belly because you devour that sandwich in seconds.
He hopes you keep it down your stomach for the whole night and that it helps you feel okay in the morning. He wonders how you will act tomorrow, if you’ll remember all of this, if you’ll remember how much you kissed him, how you made him feel. He should tell you… He should…
But what if it’s the alcohol doing its thing?
“Okay, let’s go to bed.” And doing so turns out to be a challenge because as soon as you finish your food and water, your eyelids start to drop. Getting you off the stool and dragging you upstairs is easy but keeping you sitting up as he tries to change you into his clothes, that is another issue.
“I don’t wanna…” You mumble as you throw yourself back down onto the mattress, chest bare. He would have gotten riled up, if it weren’t for the fact he felt domestic, fluttery, and his chuckles came out easily out of his lips when looking at you.
“You have to, it’s just the shirt, come on.” His voice is soft as he talks to you, making you raise yourself up again, sitting in front of him and raising your arms up for him to slide his shirt on you. As soon as it’s on, you bounce back and get comfortable in his pillow with a contented sigh. He smiles at you as he takes off his shirt and starts unbuckling his belt in order to get comfortable. His own tiredness is starting to take a toll on his body.
He doesn’t notice that you had turned your head to look at him again, and a wolf whistle is heard in the room, making him turn to look at you. You have a cheeky smile on your face and he feels himself blushing slightly as he laughs, taking his pants off next, leaving him in boxers only.
“As if you haven’t seen it before.” He says and it only makes you whistle again as he saunters over with a shake of his head, a smile still plastered on his lips.
“Doesn’t mean I can’t adore it everytime,” you whisper.
And that makes the smile drop, but in shock. Your words went deep, soothing over wounds that had been created long ago, and he doesn’t mean his scars. He has to clear his throat in order to walk towards the bed and get inside right next to you, only for you to immediately crawl on top of him, laying your chin on his chest, looking at him.
It holds so much adoration for some reason, a sparkle that makes Steve’s stomach turn, hope that rose in his throat like vomit, ready to come out, overwhelming him. You are looking at him as if he hung the stars for you, as if he were your only person in the entire world.
And he knows he is looking down at you in the exact same way.
“What now?”
“You’re just so pretty… It’s stupid how pretty you are.” He chuckles, making his chest rumble and for you to bounce up and down with it.
You pout but it’s followed by a smile, “it’s true, you are.”
“I’m not told that very often Blondie.” He honestly replies and that makes you raise your head up and look down at him with determination in your eyes. “Wh–”
He can’t even finish his question because your lips start going crazy on his face, but softly, caring, taking extra time on following the lines of moles he has on his jaw. He is startled, shocked, for no one ever did this to him, not even his own mother. No one ever showered him with affection, with kisses.
And as though that wasn’t sweet and surprising enough, you nuzzle your nose against his, giggling when a big smile appears on his face.
You are cute. You are so fucking cute.
It is an overwhelming feeling, one that almost makes him feel like crying.
Your lips pressed on the tip of his nose as you pulled away, a proud smile on your face, and he wonders what is going through your mind right now. If it it’s all true, fuck, he wants it all to be true. He needs it to be true. He needs and desires that you are doing all of this intentionally to him, despite the alcohol.
“There, now you know.”
You really are beautiful, so beautiful. He feels drunk on you, seeing you, feeling you… his hand rises up, not able to contain himself as it runs through the back of your head and pulls you down to his lips, letting him give you a deep kiss. A kiss that made the fireworks he saw earlier explode inside his room again.
You follow his lips with a hum, and he doesn’t want to pull away. He needs it all. He needs you. Not in the way he has been having you the past month. Not at all, not even close.
He lets you pull away, and his hand caresses your cheek, pulling your head down to rest on his chest again as your legs intertwine with his underneath the sheets. He wonders if you can hear how fast his heart is beating. If it bangs your head from how hard he feels his chest being hit with it.
“Sleep Blondie.” He wishes anything but that, but he needs the silence, the time alone.
“Hmm… night Stevie…” And he knows your eyes are closed, that you mumble that with the last bit of strength you had. His eyes remain on the ceiling as his mind starts working, gears going round and round, going overtime.
He had been running from the definition of the feeling, even if he knew it was there, even if he accepted everything else that came with it. He kept running and running, and now he had hit a wall.
So it’s time to stop and turn around to face you.
Steve Harrington decides to stop running as he looks down at you and his lips press at the top of your head while his arms hold you tighter. You whine in your sleep, yet your cheek nuzzles even more into his chest.
He can’t deny you anymore. Not when you look like this in his arms. Not when you peppered his face with kisses he never received. Not when he saw you in a vulnerable moment of yours. Not when he gets to see you moan in pleasure because of him. Not when he gets to see you have fun with everyone else. Not when you saved his life, going headfirst for him. Not when you already send smiles his way that make his heart stop.
And if you wake up tomorrow with a headache, he will be waiting for you with coffee in hand, an advil, and some food, ready to help you. To take care of you. He will let you lay in his bed all the time you need, all in order to make you feel better.
Because Steve Harrington started feeling again.
He likes you. He terribly and adoringly likes you… and he is afraid because–
It’s nowhere near little. Not at all.
“Can’t believe I fell for you, Blondie.”
♡
tagging friends and mutuals!
@prettyboyeddiemunson @taintedcigs @mysticmunson @corrodedcorpses @maroon-cardigan @thecreelhouse @ibellcipem @joekeerysmoles @munsonlore @sherrylyn628 @munson-mjstan @agirlwholovesrockstars
#dwoht — chapter fifteen#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington angst#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington drabble#steve harrington blurb#stranger things angst
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Promesa Part 2
Warnings: Mentions of Surgery, Mentions of the RFEF past abuse, being sick (very end section)
Notes: Could be crap, could be good, I've been sitting on this for a while now but I've decided to post it, I don't like it but idk if that is just me or not so yeah (It’s a bit bitsy just as a warning) 1.7k words
You entered the apartment and slowly crutched your way over to the couch, Ingrid following closely behind, before she helped you sit down and lift your leg onto the couch, and said she would be right back with some pillows and blankets. However the exhaustion started to take over, and you laid back against the couch cushion, Ingrid finding herself caught up in a conversation with Mapi, along with almost the whole Spanish team over the phone, all wondering how your surgery went and if you were okay or not..
When Ingrid came back with the pillows and the single doona that was purposely bought for ‘couch recovery’, she was greeted with a very similar image from when Mapi had done her meniscus. You were now resting your head against the arm of the couch as you slept, Ingrid decided just to place the couch throw under your leg to slightly elevate it, so she didn’t disturb you, knowing you were due for your pain meds in half an hour anyway, so she would make sure to properly elevate your leg then. She took a quick photo before going back into the kitchen showing Mapi.
You sat on the physio bed nervously, Ingrid and Mapi sat either side of you on stools.
“We’ve looked at what the surgeon sent over, and have had many in depth discussions as a team and although it might not be what you want to hear, we think our best option is to be looking at a 9-12 month recovery.” You nodded wordlessly
“So week 1 & 2 we are looking at almost complete immobilisation. So completely reliant on crutches for movement, non-weight bearing. Mapi and Ingrid have said they are staying with you these next two weeks so we have no concern about that,” again you nodded wordlessly, as the thoughts in your head started to overwhelm you, mixing in with and blocking out his words.
That's the whole season. They’ve cancelled their holiday for me. Two weeks, of nothing.
“Game ready for icing”
Can’t do anything for the next two weeks
“Compex”
No olympics. No Spanish team caps. No medal
“Can you stop for a moment please,” you vaguely heard your sister say. Mapi had noticed you were spacing out and assumed it was because you were overwhelmed, she placed her hand gently on your thigh, to ‘bring you back’ before continuing to talk, “I’m sorry, I know this meeting was for us to talk through the recovery process and everything however I think we need to do this differently, do you maybe have a print out version of everything you were going to tell us today and we could all read through that at our own pace, maybe if needed we could book another appointment for next week, to talk more and answer any questions,” this time it was the physio’s turn to nod wordlessly, before he left the room.
“I’m sorry,” you blurted out before tears started to roll down your cheeks.
“Hey, no. There is no reason to say sorry. We shouldn’t have just assumed what works for us would work for you,” your sister told you as she stood up before wrapping her arm around your shoulders, “we’ll go home, you can read through it, either by yourself or with us and then we can talk. We’ll get through this together. Promesa.”
It had been 4 weeks since your surgery, and you were still using crutches. In three days Mapi and Ingrid were leaving for the USA meaning you would be left home alone, so you needed to start trying to be more independent, which started with you carrying your own breakfast bowl to the couch.
“I can take it, don't worry about it, it’s nothing,” Ingrid insisted.
“No, it’s fine, I’ve got it,” you snapped back, and although Ingrid could see this going badly maybe this would be the breakthrough you needed, and with just you and her home it might be good, Mapi was good and all however she didn’t make you talk, Ingrid did, which although you never wanted to do when you were upset, you were always grateful for it later, talking prevented the build up of emotions. Two steps later there was a loud smash followed by a crash, your breakfast bowl ending up on the floor, smashing, yoghourt and muesli going everywhere, soon followed by your crutches which you dropped, before you let out a small yelp, having tensed your Quad too much, causing a pain to shoot through your leg.
-
“What’s all this about?” Ingrid asked as she sat on the couch next to you and you just shrugged at her, she had given you time to stew after placing an icepack on your knee, as she didn’t want to leave the mix of yoghourt and ceramic on the floor, “I’m not Mapi, I’m going to keep pushing, you know that, you need to talk, it’s all well and good to let the tears out but you also need to get your feelings out with words too”
“I’m useless, I can’t do anything, and you and Mapi and everyone on the team is going to the US soon and I’m going to be alone, I need to figure out how to take care of myself, do simple everyday tasks,”
“You’re not staying here, you’re coming with us, why’d you assume we’d leave you alone?”
“Because I’m a burden, I’ll be a distraction, I can’t even carry anything myself,” Ingrid looked at you a little shell shocked, “the team doesn’t want me there, I wouldn’t be any help anyway, it’s not like I can play,”
“Yes we do, we all care about you, I can promise you every single person on the team loves you, they want you there, I want you there, Mapi wants you there,” Ingrid told you.
“Can I sit with Alexia on the plane? You and Mapi deserve a break, you’ve done so much over these past few weeks,”
“I don’t know if Mapi will let that happen,”
“She will, because I want to, she likes to make me happy,” you told Ingrid before letting it sink in, “she’s been seeing the team psychologist because of me hasn’t she.”
“Not exactly, she feels guilty, she was already annoyed with herself that she had let you go without her, after everything that happened, she felt like she should’ve been there with you, to protect you, she was angry with herself at the fact that she let you go but she still wouldn’t go herself, and then you got injured and she wasn’t there, she was worried, she was upset and angry with herself,” Ingrid said almost holding back tears.
“I’m sorry,” you said before you lent into Ingrid.
“You have nothing to be sorry about, you’ve done nothing wrong,”
It had been 10 months, and you were still yet to make your return, you’d made your return to the bench but not the pitch, you were frustrated to say the least, you were back to training properly, you were doing excellently, you’d been performing better in training than you had before your injury, and yet you still couldn’t get any minutes.
“Okay Nena, that’s it, let it out, estic aquí (I’m here),” Alexia said as she rubbed your back, whilst you hunched over the bin in the gym, most definitely having overworked yourself in your extra gym session.
You slid down the wall to the ground, trying to catch your breath after just emptying your entire stomach contents into the bin. Alexia had left, you knew she’d be back, you were just hoping it wasn’t with Mapi or Ingrid.
-
“You went too hard today, sí?” Alexia sat down next to you, handing you your water bottle with cold water in it.
“Sí, I just want to get back on the pitch, but apparently I’m not okay mentally,” you replied.
“Mental health is important though, no?”
“Yes, but what do they expect, of course I’m not okay mentally, I’ve worked the hardest I ever have for the past 10 months so I can get back onto that pitch and they won’t let me on it, I’m never going to get on the pitch, I may as well just quit now, what more do they want from me?” you harshly said as hot tears streamed down your cheeks, Alexia hummed in response.
“Go shower, I’m going to talk to Pere,” Alexia said and before you had time to object she was up and gone.
-
“Nena is coming home with me,” Alexia told your sister, as her and Ingrid walked into the locker room.
“Por qué (why?)”
“Because when she walks out of that shower, you’re going to tell her the reason she hasn’t played again yet, and when you do she isn’t going to be happy,” and almost as if on cue you walked out of the showers, “go ahead, tell your Nena,”
“I’m the reason you’re not playing yet, I told them you weren’t ready yet, that your head wasn’t in the right place, I promised to protect you and that’s what I’m doing,”
“You’re not protecting me by saying I wasn’t ready to return to the pitch, you’re hurting me, all this time I thought it was me, I thought I was doing something wrong, but it was you, you’re the reason I just trained so hard I threw up, you’re the reason I’ve been crying myself to sleep every night, you’re-” “Nena,” Mapi cut you off.
“No, I don’t want to talk to you,” you snapped before walking out of the locker room, Alexia scrambling to get your stuff.
Leaving Mapi and Ingrid standing in the middle of the locker room, Mapi wondering where she went wrong and Ingrid wondering how she was meant to handle this situation. Meanwhile you were sobbing into Alexia’s shoulder as she stood with her arms tightly wrapped around you in the middle of the car park.
#woso fanfics#woso imagine#woso x reader#barca femeni imagine#barca femeni x reader#barca femini x reader#barcelona femeni imagine#ingrid engen imagine#ingrid engen x reader#mapi leon imagine#mapi león x reader#mapi leon x reader#mapi león imagine
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💒 Day 9 – Separated
A continuation to 🎁 Day 1 – All I want for Christmas (is you), which means it’s set in the same universe!
Synopsis: Happily married for several months now, you and John spend your first Christmas as newlyweds in Glasgow with his family.
Pairing: John Soap MacTavish x fem!Reader Warnings/Info: NSFW, 18+ | military!Reader; domesticity; married life/established relationship; humour; fluff; cussing; male masturbation; oral sex; hurt/comfort; angst with a happy ending (Yay!)
Word count: 3.6k
↳ back to 🎅🏼 Masterlist ☃️
You shiver despite your warm layers of clothing and stifle another yawn as you wait for the front door to the MacTavish's home to open. The large house is adorned with bright lights and decorations, even in the front yard, and a traditional Christmas wreath has been hung up at the old, heavy door.
The noise inside is muffled, but you can already hear the music, chatter and overall chaos.
Next to you, your husband glances over, a crease of concern between his dark brows as soon as he notices the dark circles under your eyes and the way your shoulders slouch with fatigue.
"Ye alright, luv? Ye're no’ gettin' sick on me, eh?" He reaches over to rub your back over your thick winter coat, trying to shield you from the freezing gusts of snow-speckled wind.
"Nah, 'm fine," you reply, yawning this time and smacking your lips before smiling over at him, "Just tired again."
John nods, curling his muscular arm around your waist to pull you closer into his side, leaning in to kiss your temple – and discreetly check if you might have a fever as his lips linger.
"Aye, hen, t’was a long drive here." He remarks, muttering against your skin before pulling back with an exasperated sigh as he lifts his fist to knock once more.
It’s your first Christmas as a married couple and while the both of you intitially wanted to spend it alone together, his family kept nagging and begging him to come back to Glasgow to celebrate the holidays properly with the whole MacTavish clan, like in the old days. Cue your own family giving you hell for choosing your husband’s side of the family over them.
Needless to say, the past couple of weeks have been rather stressful, with your responsibilities serving in the military and being part of the 141 breathing down your neck, too, along with John’s own reintroduction into his military service, which caused you two to have less time for each other than you both expected.
“I’ll give ye a massage later,” John says, his voice dropping to a promising murmur, “How does that sound?” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, making you huff a laugh as you lean in to hug him back and rest your cheek against his chest, limbs feeling heavy already.
“Doesn’t sound too bad.” You glance up at him, admiring his handsome face with a soft smile, and your heart gives a sudden flutter like it did when you first started fooling around in secret, back when you first joined the task force after him.
The door cracks open eventually, and a wave of warmth embraces you immediately, making you shudder as you cling to John. His mother pokes her head out and her bright blue eyes immediately light up.
“Well, if it isn’t my handsome son and his bonnie bride.” She smiles warmly, eyes crinkling in the corners as she pulls her only son into a hug, “We’ve been wonderin’ where ye are!”
“Hello, ma.” John mutters while his mother, always the overly affectionate one, cuddles him tightly and ruffles his short dark hair; the hair he’s been growing out and grooming differently since getting rid of his Mohawk and trying to hide the gnarly scar on the side of his head.
Then, you’re attacked next, but as you go in to reciprocate her welcoming hug, she keeps you at arm's length instead, her hands planted on your shoulders as she looks at you, eyes narrowing slightly.
Meanwhile, your gaze flickers in confusion between John’s and hers while she keeps scrutinizing you, grasping your chin and tilting your face as she hums to herself.
“Uhm, Rosemary... Good–Good to see you again,” you try tentatively, offering an awkward smile as your arms drop and hang loosely at your sides.
John takes your hand, chuckling nervously, “Ma, dinnae be weird now.”
“Och, dinnae be silly, John! Let yer mum check on her bonnie daughter-in-law.” Rosemary pulls back, her blue eyes sparkling strangely as she flashes a beaming smile before waving her son off dismissively and stepping to the side to usher you both inside.
When John picks up your luggage again, he doesn’t let go of your hand.
The atmosphere inside the big, old house is welcoming and warm, loud and chaotic, as usual. All of John’s four sisters are present with their partners and children, and even some uncles and aunts have been invited with their spouses.
At some point after the sumptuous dinner, when wine, scotch and eggnog flow steadily, and the language barrier between you and your in-law family becomes more apparent again once they all keep slipping into Gaelic, you swiftly find a corner in the living room where you’re able to take a much-needed breather while John is busy entertaining his young nieces and nephews.
Taking a few slow and deep breaths, you try to get rid of the queasy feeling in your stomach that caught you off guard since sitting down at the long dinner table earlier.
Perhaps you are overworked and definitely overwhelmed, unable to relax and unwind after the past couple of months of round-the-clock action; whether it was helping John with his ongoing rehabilitation, the wedding, the following honeymoon, or the countless deployments and field trainings, all while trying to adjust to married life.
You’re happier than you’ve ever been in your life, there is no doubt about that, but it’s been... tough. Even you must admit that to yourself; you’re exhausted.
As you glance down into your half-empty wine glass, you swivel the ruby liquid inside a bit while you feel your mouth suddenly fill with saliva at the lingering sour taste on your tongue. It’s an odd reaction and you swallow thickly, wrinkling your nose before setting the glass on the small side table next to the armchair you’re lounging in.
Suddenly, John appears from the crowd, crouching down in front of the armchair. His stubbly cheeks flushed a pinkish hue from the alcohol, his cerulean eyes gleaming with love as he gazes up at you like a devoted puppy yearning for some praise, “Everythin’ alright, my love?”
You cup his jaw and caress your thumb over the apple of his cheek, giving a curt nod, a small smile playing on your lips as you meet his gaze with half-lidded eyes.
“Just tired, baby.” You repeat the words for the umpteenth time in the past few days it feels.
“Mhm,” John rests his cheek on your knee as you rake your manicured fingers through his short hair and his eyelids flutter briefly as he sighs deeply, “Aye, could take a nap, too.”
John leads you to one of the guest bedrooms upstairs where he’d previously carried the luggage. However, as he switches the light on, you’re met with a peculiar sight.
“Seriously?” You snort, peeking up at John with a raised eyebrow while he rubs the back of his neck, smirking sheepishly and giving a shrug.
“First come, first serve, I guess,” he chuckles, “At least we don’t gotta share our bathroom with anyone.”
You hum, pursing your lips as you nod, “Don’t have to share a bed, either.” You quip, making a vague gesture at the two single beds with Christmas themed bed sheets, separated by a wide bedside table.
“Och, we’ll make do,” John snickers, pulling you into his side and grabbing a handful of your left ass cheek over the wool dress you’re wearing before leaning down to bury his nose in your neck, “Jus’ like the good ol’ days back at the barracks, baby.”
He nips at your neck, making you giggle as you tilt your head and lift your shoulder, trying to shield yourself from his playful ministrations.
“You mean the days when you’d begged me to let you into my bed?”
John lets out a mock scoff, straightening up and rolling his broad shoulders after letting go of your ass cheek with one last squeeze, “I never had to beg ye.”
The both of you know that it's a blatant lie.
He clears his throat, “Wanna bet it’s gonna be ye who asks ta move the beds together? Whining for cuddles an’ kisses from yer man like a wee lassie?”
You pout at him, brows setting in a feigned frown as you sidestep him with your arms crossed over your chest petulantly, “You’re on, MacTavish,” you huff, “–and you’re so gonna lose this bet.”
“Winner gets a nice treat, aye?” He suggests with a boyish grin, following you into the bedroom.
After unpacking together and settling in, John leaves you to have one more drink with his father downstairs while the rest of his family is either leaving and bidding their goodbyes or retreating to the other guest bedrooms.
And while you can barely keep your eyes open as you change into your pyjamas, brush your teeth and go through your nightly routine in the adjacent bathroom, you feel simultaneously too exhausted and unable to find sleep as you finally lay in your assigned single bed.
This restlessness feels strange, and you must actively keep yourself from tossing and turning on the mattress as you lay in the darkness alone. You even go through the various sleeping techniques which you’ve learned on duty, the ones that have helped you catch some shuteye on missions in the past, though to no avail.
Your eyes are burning behind your eyelids whenever you shut them, and your mind can’t seem to quiet. You’re terribly aware of your heartbeat, the soreness of your limbs and the queasiness in your gut, and in this moment, you can’t help but yearn for your husband’s presence; for him to slip under the covers behind you and his large, strong hands to roam and touch your body in a way that distracts you from this discomfort you find yourself in.
Time passes, and while you’re still unable to fall asleep, you’ve manage to turn your mind off by focusing on the various sounds in the house; deep voices engaged in conversation downstairs, the flushing of toilets, the dull footsteps of someone walking up or down the stairs–
You’re lying on your side, facing the wall, the pillow hugged to your chest with your head flat on the mattress, and your eyes shut as you’re simply dozing, when the door to the bedroom creaks open and John staggers inside clumsily.
There’s a pause before the door clicks and locks again, and you know he’s checking if you’re asleep, so you play along and stay still. You expect him to fold, to come crawling into your bed and lose the bet, and the thought of him desperately pawing at your flimsy pyjamas to get to your goodies, makes your lower tummy flutter with excitement and anticipation.
So, you listen as he disappears into the bathroom, how the toilet flushes after he takes a comically long piss, the running of the faucet when he washes his hands and brushes his teeth, all while your heart keeps thudding against your ribcage while you suppress a wicked grin.
When John emerges from the bathroom, he smacks his hand against the light switch, unnecessarily forceful like he always does, and–
Your eyes blink open, eyebrows furrowing, when he walks past your bed to slip into his with a low grunt. The single mattress creaks under his weight, the covers rustle as gets comfortable, sniffling and smacking his lips like a dog getting ready for the best sleep in his life.
And just when you want to turn around to make your wakefulness known, your breath stutters in your chest as you hear him spitting – presumably into his palm.
You don’t know how long you’ve been holding your breath for, frozen in place as you listen to the slick sound of his hand stroking his cock, but it’s been long enough to have your own body react to it as your thighs squeeze together discreetly, wetness spreading between your folds as you try to get friction on your pulsating clit while your heart feels heavy in your chest.
Suddenly, you’re going through a myriad of emotions and it’s something you haven’t experienced before. You feel aroused, excited, betrayed, sad, angry, frustrated, disappointed – and it’s all too much when the sound of John’s husky groan and shallow breaths reach your ears.
“You’ve got to be fuckin’ kidding me – John.” You mutter, saying his name louder as you perk up in your bed, glancing over your shoulder at him in the darkness and barely able to make out his silhouette.
“Are you seriously jerking off right now?”
John sputters, his movements stilling before he has the audacity to bark out a laugh, “Ah, I didnae ken ye’re awake.” His Scottish brogue is more apparent now, his deep voice a little breathless.
“Yeah, well... I am!” You hiss, sitting up fully and leaning against the headboard of your bed, blood boiling and heating up your cheeks with agitation and before you know it, your eyes start stinging and welling up with fat tears while your bottom lip wobbles.
“Woah, wait–” He chuckles, though more in confusing than disbelief as he tries to interpret your reaction, “Are ye... mad at me for havin’ a lil’ wank?” His thick brows draw together as he listens intently, his cock still throbbing in his fist.
You sniffle, shoulders trembling with restraint as you wipe furiously at your eyes and cheeks, though the first tears have already slipped and stained your sleepshirt. It’s so out of character for you. Normally, you would simply tease him for this. Hell, you have a great sex life together; have rubbed one out next to him just to rile him up in the past. This should be nothing to you, but for no other apparent reason than a matter of principle, it is, and you can’t stop your mouth from blurting out more words.
“Y’know, it’s just funny to me that–that you actually seem to be enjoying this bet and ugh separation between–between us,” you babble, ignoring logic in favour of the cocktail of raging emotions wreaking havoc inside you.
“What? No! Baby, please, I–” John stammers, becoming more confused and overwhelmed with each hiccup and sob coming from your bed from the other side of the room, “Ye’re the love of my life, please–” He tucks his still semi-hard cock back into his boxer briefs before scrambling on his mattress to turn on the lamp on the bedside table.
When the bedroom is illuminated by the lamp’s warm light, John immediately sobers up as he assesses the strange situation, and his stomach drops as he spots you curled up on the single bed, hugging your knees and muffling your sobs. He can’t count on one hand the times he’s seen you cry, so this is more than alerting.
“Ach, fuck this bloody bet.” John huffs and in an instant, he’s up on his feet and nearly flinging himself onto your bed; strong arms cooping you up in an embrace as he shifts you around until he’s sitting with his back against the headboard, cradling your shivering form against his chest.
“Steamin’ Jesus, ye’re really scarin’ me right now,” he mutters against the crown of your head, nuzzling your hair as he rocks you gently, “Can ye tell me what’s goin’ on, hm? Please?”
“Fuck, I–I don’t know,” you wail and whine into his bare chest, coarse dark hair scratching against your face as you try to burrow deeper into his embrace, all while his bulky arms tighten around you like steel rods, “I just... I need you.”
And then, when you shift and climb into his lap to hump and grind your clothed pussy against his upper thigh, John gets really confused.
He blinks dumbly, “So... ye’re not mad at me? Ye’re jus’... horny?” His cock twitches in his briefs when you bite your puffy bottom lip and choke back a keening moan.
“Shut up,” you whinge, hands finding purchase on his broad shoulders as he surveys your odd behavior with a mixture of amusement and concern, once he’s sure you’re not sick or hurt.
John chuckles huskily, his hands trailing down to grasp your hips, “Should’a said some, hen.” He purrs as he tugs on the hem of your sleepshirt teasingly before pulling it up over your head when you lift your arms up obediently.
His pupils dilate as soon as his eyes drink in the sight of your pretty tits. When his hands trace up your stomach, he can feel your skin pebble with goosebumps, and when his thumbs trace the underside of your naked breasts, he notices your slight wince while your cute nipples stiffen instantly, making his mouth water at the sight like Pavlov’s trained mutt.
“Sensitive tonight, are we?”
You swat at his biceps meekly, letting out the most pathetic little whine that has John’s heart thudding and his cock chuff to full mast. This is so unlike you, and it makes him reel internally.
“Fuckin’ hell, ye’re killin’ me here. I need a taste of ye, love.” He mutters under his breath and leans in to kiss you deeply, all teeth and tongue, before he picks you up and manhandles you like some ragdoll until you’re lying on your back underneath him, gazing up with a desperate, pleading look in your glossy, bright doe-eyes.
You help him take off your pyjama pants next, movements sluggish as you burn up with desire and need while John nudges your legs apart before settling between your thighs, getting in position like a sniper on a mission.
John holds your upper thighs in a firm grip, keeping them spread for him as he drags his nose from your crack up your wet slit, parting your folds and inhaling the familiar scent of your arousal deeply as he goes, though it somehow seems more intoxicating as ever. And the first taste of your cunt has his mind go berserk, synapsis firing in the most primal part in his brain as he swallows hard and growls against your folds.
You clasp a hand over your mouth, muffling your whimpers, “Oh...god... Johnny.”
You taste absolutely divine and you’re practically gushing from your little hole like never before as John drapes your legs over his shoulders, spreads your velvety folds with his fingers and starts licking and suckling on your clit like a madman; completely and utterly possessed by you as he slurps and laps up your slick arousal, making sure not a drop goes to waste.
The first orgasm hits you hard and leaves your pussy convulsing almost painfully as white-hot pleasure wrecks through your flushed body; making your toes curl and your back arch off the mattress while those dull throbs of pleasure-pain have you begging for Johnny’s thick fingers to fill you up. And he eagerly complies by plunging both middle and ring finger into your dripping cunt while the feeling of his thick, golden wedding band stimulating your entrance has your eyes roll back into your skull.
Your doting husband eats you out for what feels like hours, way past the soreness of his own jaw, until you’re nothing but a limp, twitching mess on the narrow mattress, and even then, he doesn’t let up.
“Can’t stop, baby,” he grunts against your swollen clit, his voice muffled by your slick flesh as he pumps and curls his fingers inside your fluttering channel, “Ye taste too fuckin’ good.”
Clutching the steaming mug of freshly brewed coffee between your palms, you stifle another yawn as you sit at the kitchen table before you catch the significant glance John shoots in your direction, a prideful smirk tugging at his lips and his chest puffed out even more than usual as he converses with one of his brothers-in-law.
Yes, you’re tired, but at least you know why today. Smiling to yourself, you hide it by taking a sip of your coffee.
“Havin’ a good mornin’, Mrs. MacTavish?”
Your eyes flicker up when John’s mother sets a full plate of breakfast in front of you. An array of bacon and eggs, sausage, baked beans, toast and fried mushrooms – a sight that had your mouth water in the past but your nose wrinkle in the present.
“Cannae stand the smell, eh?” The older woman chuckles, patting your back affectionately, “Jus’ wait fer the morning sickness, lass.”
As you gaze up at her in confusion, you catch that same strange and gleeful twinkle from yesterday in her eyes. Your eyes narrow slightly, “I’m sorry, Rosemary, but what are you talking about? You’ve been dropping hints like that since last night.”
Rosemary clicks her tongue and raises a dark eyebrow as if surprised you haven’t caught on yet before she reaches into the pocket of her apron and then takes one of your wrists to shove something that feels like a pencil into your palm.
“I kept them around when my daughters got married,” she explains softly, though it confuses you even more until you look down at the object in your palm, “I ken this would be the biggest Christmas present for Johnny... and for all of us, too.”
Your stomach drops and your eyes widen as you stare at the pregnancy test.
#call of duty#john soap mactavish#john soap mctavish x reader#soap x reader#john mactavish#john mactavish x reader#soap#tf 141#cod:mw#cod advent calendar 2024#johnny mactavish#reader insert
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Dunno if my Eren request for the event went through😭😭My Tumblr started acting up but I was requesting Eren and 26) Nutcrackers if you're okay with that!
ꨄ 𝚗𝚞𝚝𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚛𝚜 | 𝚎. 𝚓𝚊𝚎𝚐𝚎𝚛
>> modern au
initially, you were nervous about spending the holidays with the jaeger family. you and eren had been together a while, and you’d met his mother already, but the stories he’s told you about his dad and his brother made you a little nervous. more than anything, you really just wanted to make a good impression.
it turns out that you had nothing to worry about though, just like eren had assured you. his mom is very sweet, just like you remember, and while his dad is kind of intense and his brother is somewhat abrasive, they both make an effort to get to know you and be civil in your company.
it’s been a great and festive time at the jaeger house. you’ve baked cookies, wrapped presents, watched holiday movies and all. tonight, the five of you had gone out to see the ballet, as is their family tradition.
“my dad and zeke can’t stand the ballet,” eren whispers in your ear as you walk back, arm in arm. “but it’s my mom’s favorite thing ever so we go every year.”
“really?” you ask. “that’s so sweet! your family is so cute.”
eren shrugs but you catch the way his cheeks turn pink. you grin at him, pinching his cheeks between your fingers and cooing at him teasingly while he tries to push you away.
“hey, lovebirds!” you freeze when you hear zeke call out in a bored voice. “hurry it up back there or we’re leaving you in the snow.”
you and eren rush to follow them back to the car, laughing into each other’s shoulders the whole time.
hi anon! hope you like this one 🫶 sorry it’s a bit shorter than normal, im a little frantic trying to get these out and still getting over being sick. thanks for the love and happy holidays!! - kitty !
#🎁 holiday event!#eren jaeger x reader#eren yeager#eren jaeger#eren aot#eren x reader#eren fluff#aot fluff#aot x reader#eren jaeger fluff#eren yeager x reader#eren yaeger x reader#eren yaeger aot#snk x reader#snk fluff#kitty.writes!#kitty.hotline!
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Y'all, I just HAD to share this, because holy shit.
A little background first:
I run the drive-thru cash register window at a fast food joint. One of the shittiest jobs there is because some of the rudest/stupidest people on the planet come through the drive-thru, and one must have near superhuman patience to deal with it. That said, there are customers who come regularly and are not hard to deal with at all. And then there are some-very few and far between-that restore your faith in humanity a little every time they come.
This is about one such customer.
This guy comes every day at about the same time with his grandson (6 years old when this started, recently turned 7) and gets the exact same thing every time. To the point where now either I see their car or I hear the guy say his name (whichever happens first) and I'm already ringing them up. Because of this, the kid now thinks I have weirdly specific psychic powers, and has said he prefers coming to the place when I'm there. He's also decided I'm the best employee this place has. The granddad talks to me like I'm a human, they're always smiling and happy to see me (which means a lot in this line of work, let me tell you) and even on my shittiest days, they've managed to make me smile. I genuinely look forward to seeing these people every day.
Recently, grandson was hella excited to tell me he had a birthday coming up. Reminded me every day "my birthday's coming!" as most 6yo kids do.
Maybe I was feeling a little holiday spirit or something, but one day after work, I went to the Dollar Tree near the restaurant. I picked out a kid's birthday card and a Christmas card. I wrote a message in the Christmas one about what I just explained above, thanking them for bringing some joy to my days, because y'know what? People need to hear that shit. Especially in today's world. And I wanted them to know how much this meant to me. I wrote a little joke in the birthday card about not forgetting the day. Then I looked in my wallet, saw I had a $10 and a $1, and stuck the $10 in the birthday card. Addressed the birthday card to the kid and the Christmas one to kid and grandpa. I give the cards to them on their normal drive-thru visit. They are of course surprised (kid starts yelling "thank you" even though he hasn't gotten to open it yet) but thankful. Then the line moves on.
Fast forward to today.
I see the car come in but I don't start ringing the order up, because it's WAY early for them. I give my usual greeting, then I hear a woman's voice, so I think it's someone in the same kind of car. But when she asks "is this Hal?" I then realize it's the kid's mother, whom he has told all about me and who has come through with him before.
I say yes, and she tells me she's not here to order anything, just to see me, since kid and granddad are sick. I tell her to come on to the window, she does, and hands me a card and a nicely wrapped gift. I asked her to tell them hi for me, she said she would and then the line moved.
I got off on lunch break and opened card and gift.
I was not prepared. At all.
This is the gift...
...the card (no writing on the front).....
.....and the typed note inside the card that actually brought tears to my eyes.
......I'm still not over this. I will be thinking about how this went on for OVER HALF A FUCKING YEAR and I had no idea.
This is the kind of stuff that makes this shitty job worth it. People like this....We need more of in this world. I'm going to hold onto that note so when I feel like shit or I don't matter, I can look at it and know there's a kid out there who I am so important to that he got his dad to write a whole-ass letter, to some random stranger he only knows through his son, inviting me to their fucking house. I'm tearing up again as I write this, just thinking about it.
If that doesn't say "you matter", idk what does.
(And yes, I will go at some point, because how can I not? I'm not gonna dash this kid's hopes and make myself look like an enormous asshole. This is the RL version of being handed a toy phone and told it's ringing)
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Die with a Smile
Nobody‘s promised tomorrow
So imma love you every night like it‘s the last night
Cause i wanna hold you just for a while, and die with a smile
༘⋆ ❅ ・:*:。 ❆
Words: 5,2k
Genre: angst, fluff, comfort(…?), christmas
Hyunjin x fem. Reader
Warnings: Cancer!!!! So sickness, food, crying, sickingly sweet fluff, fears, , all i want for christmas by mariah carey (yes that needs a warning),death,non-sexual nudity (they r just bathing), cinnamon (sorry but- warning needed),
A/n: hi! I had so much fun writing this, and it‘s also for the StayblrHolidayEvent . I hope yall enjoy this also since it‘s my first christmas fic. Also as u can see it’s a bit inspired from die with a smile (bruno mars & lady gaga). Basically It’s just those lines i wrote over there kinda inspired me how to write the emotions and thoughts and stuff. So now, take ur hot chocolate, a fuzzy blanket and read! Merry christmas and happy holidays to yall🎄💕✨
You were laying down next to hyunjin, watching the other guys in front of you, while he was sketching most probably them or the decorated livingroom, or just the whole scene in front of him. Felix, Chan and Minho had come over, and now they were laughing as they decorated your tree, the rest of the livingroom, and singing christmas songs. The christmas joy had definitely taken over them, also if you couldn‘t really feel anything of it.„Don‘t you wanna get up and help them?“ Hyunjin mumbled quietly to you, not looking up from his sketch. He did that so often lately. He sketched simple scenes or things he saw, shutting almost everything else out. As if he wanted to remember everything to the smallest detail. „No, i‘m good here with you.“ You responded, laying your head on his shoulder. He sighed quietly, and kept drawing in silence for a while, the only noise was the guys bantering and christmas songs playing in the background. Then he spoke up again, quietly. „Y/nnie, you don‘t have to always sit around me and baby me alright? Don‘t think i don‘t know why you are doing this, and don‘t think i didn‘t hear you crying in the bathroom. I‘m well aware of the situation, but why can‘t we just make the best out of it? I feel like all this is getting to you more than to me, when it‘s literally me who is going to die.“ You froze at his words.
Last christmas, hyunjin had been diagnosed with cancer, and the worst was it was a type that could never be healed. They had told you that he had about one more year to live. That time you broke down entirely, and already there it was you who seemed to be more affected than him. But over a bit time you started acting normal again, not constantly being around him and doing everything for him. But now the year was coming to an end, and christmas was standing on the frontdoor. With that everything came back. You suddenly were all over him, not once leaving his side, and everytime he wanted to get up or something you pressed him down and did whatever he wanted to do for him.
The worst was you could feel it. Somewhere inside you had always hoped that the doctors were just wrong and hyunjin wouldn’t die in the next sixty years. But you saw that they were right. The way he slowly began to always eat a bit less than before, the way the circles under his eyes got darker, and his cheekbones more visible. You hated it. You didn’t hate him of course, you could never, but you hated this stupid cancer and what it was doing to your hyunjin. It was taking him painfully slow out of this world. With him getting worse you were too. You wanted to be strong for him, and for him to have the happiest last christmas ever but you couldn’t help it, the weight of the fact that soon he wouldn’t be there anymore was dragging you down too much, when you knew that it only hurt him more to see you like this, altough you always tried to hide it.
So there you were now. You stiffened and took your head off his shoulder, to look him in the eye. „Don‘t say it like that hyun-“
„No, i will in fact say it like that, cause i‘m not gonna lie to any of us for longer.I know that i‘m going to die, and you know it too okay? So why can‘t we enjoy the time left, and just do everything like we used to, instead of you constantly acting like i‘m some kind of fragile doll that could break at any moment? You acting like a overprotective mom isn‘t gonna change a single thing, as much as it hurts to hear that. Think about it y/n. Because i don‘t want to sit on this couch or in my bed the rest of my life. I‘m not doing this y/n.“ His voice was thick with emotion, and he had kicked his sketchbook away. He stood up, in fact needing a bit time to get up, and to lean onto the wall, but he went into your room, shutting the door. You stared at the closed door, with an empty hollow gaze. The other guys now excused themself and left. But before he left, chan said to you with a guilty smile: „Not everything he said is true, but you should think about some parts. Bye y/nnie.“
Now you were left alone in the silence. Hyunjin’s sketchbook was laying open on the floor, and the pages were a bit scaped now. He was going to be mad at himself for that later. You picked it up, wanting to close it, but then you saw his sketch from today. It wasn’t the scene in front of him, it was you, looking a bit sad. Under the drawing he wrote
My sad girl, 2024
When is she gonna be my happy girl again?
A tear ran down your cheek. He was always very empathetic and he hated when you felt down. Why hadn‘t you thought of the fact that you being like this only weighed him more down?
You cuddled up under the blanket that was still warm from hyunjin, tears slowly falling down. You knew he was right. Of course he wanted to enjoy his life, as long as he was still able to. Because no matter what you were going to do, it wasn‘t gonna change anything anyways, so why not enjoy instead of being sad and regretful when he was still with you, still breathing, still being able to smile at you?
After a while you could finally get yourself to go to him again. You braced yourself and got up, knocking on the door of your shared room. He just faintly sniffled. You opened the door slowly, seeing him huddled up under a blanket. He was crying, and it broke your heart. Hyunjin was a sensitive guy, and he hated arguing with loved ones more than anything, so you should have known that this would get to him, also if he was acting careless and tough. You kept being quiet, just sitting down on your side of the bed. You started stroking his hair, at wich he only started crying more. After a while of being like this in silence, the only sounds his quiet crying and the air cnditioner in the background, he lowered the blanket and looked at you with red eyes. „I don‘t want to die either y/n. I just… i‘m trying to be strong cause you are hurting so much,and i‘m so sorry for leaving you alone my love-“ His voice broke, and more tears spilled over onto his red cheeks. You opened your arms for him, and he didn‘t hesitate. He immediately moved a bit so his head was laying on your chest now. Quickly you wrapped your arms around him, kissing his head, while a few tears trailed down your cheeks too. Of course you knew. „I know, i know hyunnie. But you don‘t need to be strong all the time. I can‘t cure the cancer, but we are in this together. You can tell me how you feel, and i will give you space when you need it, but be by your side whenever you want it too. And i also promise to not act like a overprotective mom anymore.“ He chuckled a bit through his tears at that, wich made you do so too. „See, everything‘s okay. You are not alone, and as long as we can spend time together, i’ll be with you, trying to make your time left the best you ever had. How about tomorrow we make a christmas day? Like we go to the christmas market, bake gingerbread in the afternoon and sing christmas songs, all while we have ugly christmas sweaters on?“ you both started laughing, the tears finally stopping. He nodded,his face squished against your hoodie now, and his breathing was evening out. Maybe you really shouldn‘t take everything that serious. Because now it wasn‘t that point where you would have to say goodbye. You had no idea how much, but you had some time left to spend together, and you would try to make the best out of it. You would love him till the very end, and even after that, you‘d still do so. And as long as he was next to you would also tell him that, and make sure that when he had to go, he would do so in peace. So you closed your eyes, and in this little moment, everything that mattered was hyunjin, entirely squished against you, and you, holding him, as long as you could. The stars could have looked down at you two that night, and altough hyunjin was sick, and paths of the tears that you both cried earlier still lingered on your cheeks, they would have seen you two shine brighter than ever, the light not leaving, as long as you were together.
The next morning you woke up, a white comforter draped over you, and you almost had a heart attack when hyunjin was nowhere near. But then you saw him, walking in with a big grin, and one of the matching ugly christmas sweaters you had bought together sometime on.You started laughing, still half asleep and in a groggy voice. „You look…. Interesting.“ hyunjin laughed and threw something at you. It was your christmas sweater. You sighed, and you did your best to put a serious face on. His smile dropped. „Oh no- no- don‘t say you changed your mind.“ You broke out in a laugh and jumped up, putting the sweater over your pajama shirt. „God you are going to make me die even sooner with the heart attacks you give me.“ Hyunjin dramatically exhaled, gripping his chest. You just rolled your eyes at that. You were glad he was his usual dramatic self, the weight in the room that you both somehow created the past weeks, seemingly gone, replaced by a lighthearted joyful mood.
So you dressed the rest of yourself, grabbed your things and left the apartment with hyunjin. He had insisted to eat waffles at his favorite coz cafe around the corner, and not have one of your healthy breakfasts at home. You had given in, so now you were walking there, both wrapped up in coats, and fuzzy scarfs. It was cold outside, and the wind blew. There were faint smells of gingerbread and cinnamon in the air, telling you it was really getting christmas now. Well christmas was already tomorrow so how could it be different? You went into the cafe and hyunjin picked a spot at the window. On the pastell green walls there were everywhere pretty pictures, and the chairs were all different, each one looking vintage and really comfy. You ordered two waffles and two hot chocolates. As you sat there in the cozy fluffy chair, you looked at him. He looked the same as yesterday, and the days before but something was different. It wasn‘t the pink shade on his nose from the cold, or neither the Christmas sweater. No, it was that his eyes sparkled. They sparkled like they didn‘t in a long time. Maybe he was right? Maybe this was what he needed, not your experimental healthy food (that didn’t even taste good, eugh) and constant sitting around at home. Hyunjin shook you out of your thoughts. „Why are you staring?“
You shook your head with a little smile. „You‘re pretty today.“
He just laughed, assuming you were joking because of the sweater.
Your waffles and hot chocolate were served and hyunjin got excited like a kid, and immediately started munching them. You giggled, and secretly took a picture with your phone. Then you started eating too. The waffles tasted like christmas and happiness. You had never eaten such good waffles before. Maybe it was also just the feeling to sit here and eat them with hyunjin, entirely lighthearted and happy for the first time in weeks. As you were highly concentrated on your food, hyunjin suddenly spoke up. „I love you, you know that? And i always will, even when you can‘t see me anymore. But don‘t worry, i‘ll look at you getting older, achieving your dreams, and doing everything you want to, because i know you’ll do so well, even without me. And i‘ll protect you, from wherever i will be going. You‘ll always be my muse y/n.“ He sounded sincere, not sarcastic like when he was being dramatic, though he kept on eating his waffles, like he didn‘t just say something that almost made you cry and want to hold him for the rest of your life. You looked at him, tears building up a bit behind your eyes. „Hyunnie… I love you too, and always will. I don‘t know if i ever can fully move on though,… because i will always think of you when i look at the moon shining bright on the dark night sky, or when i look at the town around christmastime, everything tinted in a soft glow and everything smelling like gingerbread.“ You said, but you weren‘t as desperate and almost seeming like you would break down at any moment, like it was just a few days ago when he started talking about his death. No, you were calm, and a little, sad smile played on your lips. He was done with his waffles now, and leaned over the table to cup your cheek in his warm hand. „It‘s okay y/nnie. Grieving i a natural and healthy part of when someone you love is dying. And it‘s okay to cry, scream or vent to someone. But please don‘t do all that alone hm? I talked to the boys a few days ago, and they have all grown so close to you too over the years, they will support you, and you can grieve together. Know that you are not alone y/n, never. And i‘ll always be somewhere in there.“ He pointed at where your heart was. „And you are the strongest, bravest woman i know, so i know that you will be able to somewhat move on someday. Oh but i have one little request. Please never forget me, no matter what you choose to do in the future. I like the idea of you being reminded of me when looking at the moon or while the christmas season. I hope you are being reminded of me in a good way though, and not like a haunting nightmare way.“ He chuckled at the last part a bit. And you smiled too.
„I would never forget you love, and don’t worry about it, you‘ll always be my dream, never my nightmare.“
„Oh but one more thing. Don’t be afraid of me dying, while i’m still here. Everything is gonna be okay.“ He smiled. You both looked into each other‘s eyes for a moment there, and it felt like nothing else was existing right now. No other people, no sadness, and no cancer. Just hyunjin‘s mesmerizing dark eyes looking into yours.
You two were walking out the cafe, hand in hand, now going to the little christmas market hyunjin adored since you took him there for the first time. Since then he didn‘t spend a singly christmas season without going there.
Your breaths were coming out in little white clouds, and you put your head on hyunjin‘s shoulder. He took his hand out of yours,and instead lovingly wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you close, and pressing a kiss to your head. You loved when he did that. If only you could stop time now, and walk in the joyful town forever with your boyfriend.
But soon you heard happy children‘s laughter, and smelled cinammon. No doubt that there was the christmas market. Hyunjin started smiling like crazy. He loved the fact that he got to see this for the last time with you. No, he wouldn’t be sad that it was the last time today, and regret things. No, he would just be so, so glad to spend this day here, forgetting the cancer that usually weighed him down, for a while. It seemed like a gift that he got this day, being with his favorite person in probably his favorite place.
Soon enough he saw a stand, with cute handmade christmas decorations. He immediately went over there, and made a adorable noise.
„Looooook y/n, it‘s a ferret with a scarf, and it looks like my scarf! We need to adopt him and hang him on our tree. I feel our bond, so no arguing on this one.“ He said dead serious. You laughed, looking at the ferret. You almost forgot how excited hyunjin always got at the christmas market, and how you had to convince him to not buy literally everything he saw. But you nodded on this one, the little deco really looking a bit like hyunjin right now, with his cute red nose and the adorable smile on his face. He went to the man who was selling it, and even gave him more money than the ferret costed. The guy happily wished him merry christmas and waved. Hyunjin just loved to make people happy, and why not do that especially now? He took your hand in his again, walking by the other stands, the shimmer of the fairylights hanging on all the stands mirroring the one in his eyes. As you were slowly walking, you, literally trying to convince hyunjin to not buy a gigantic wolf statue from the eighteenth century for chan(He was so silly, he had to gift everyone the most random things for christmas with the simple explanation: I saw that and thought of you), you suddenly felt something cold on your face. Hyunjin seemed to feel it too, because he looked up and immediately his whole face lit up even more if that was possible. „Omg Y/n it‘s snowing! This is just a perfect day, even the weather with it‘s beautiful snow is on our side.“ He talked, not really paying attention to what he was saying, just mesmerized by the white crystals.
Sometimes you took a bit time, just to admire the way he got excited over little things, in a way you would usually see it only with kids. Those moments, when joy was literally radiating from him you felt so much love and admiration for him that you could combust. You just wanted to snap a hundred pictures with that adorable smile and the shine in his eyes, and keep them forever in your heart. You brushed his hair out of his face, and your hand lingered on his cheek for a bit longer. „You‘re right hyun, this is the perfect day.“ You whispered. He just continued smiling, then lowered down to kiss you. You didn‘t feel the cold snow on your skin anymore, only your boyfriends soft lips, that tasted like cinammon and warmness, pressed to yours. As you pulled away, your foreheads were resting against each other, and you felt his warm breath on your face. „Let‘s go home now, then we can bake gingerbread and show mini Jinnie his new home.“ you giggled at his words, and nodded, your eyes not leaving his.
You walked through your apartment door, both of you giggling like lovesick fools. You took your shoes and coat off, but suddenly your feet got sweeped off the floor, and you were being carried by hyunjin. „Yah, stop it!! The doctor said no heavy lifting!“ You slapped his arm in an attempt to make him let you down but you couldn‘t even hold in your own laugh. He shook his head and dramatically said: „If not now, then when should i carry you bridal style, my lady?“ You playfully slapped his arm again and threw your head back in laughter. He just fondly smiled, lowering his head down to kiss you on the cheek, and then he carried you into the kitchen. The other guys seemed to also have decorated the kitchen because beautiful fairy lights were hung over the stoves, and some more decoration, including a mistletoe, was placed perfect. When hyunjin stopped under the mistletoe you started shaking your head. „No jinnie don‘t. Please, that‘s so cheesy,don‘t do it.“ You whined, knowing exactly he would in fact do it.He grinned and asked „May i?“ He didn‘t wait for an answer, he just softly laid his lips on yours, the kiss so tender like always. Both of you closed your eyes, and you wrapped your arms around his neck. After a while you slowly pulled away, and he murmured a soft „love you my muse“. You hid your face in the crook of his neck, smiling. „Love you too hyunnie“ your words were muffled against his sweater, but he didn‘t mind. He wouldn‘t want to be anywhere else in the world right now.
You went into the kitchen, and hyunjin let you down. You started preparing everything for gingerbread, and soon christmas songs were filling the air. With the fairy lights on, everything was tinted in a soft, cozy glow.
As you were just done with the dough and had placed it to rest somewhere ‘all i want for christmas‘ started playing. „Oh my favorite christmas song.“ He chimed, preparing a spoon as a microphone. You looked at him in shock. „Sorry what?? Don‘t tell me we are together for literally six years, and i had no idea that your favorite christmas song is all i want for christmas. How can you have these muscles, and act all flirty but suddenly be like a lovesick teeny girl?“
A endearing pout played on his lips. „It‘s a classical, don‘t judge me!“ You sighed but started giggling. As the refrain of the song came, hyunjin threw his hair back (Nuh uh seriously, who was this diva?) and he began to loudly sing into the spoon. You laughed, but couldn‘t resist him. You grabbed a spoon toom, and put it up to your mouth, singing along with him. He then wrapped his one arm around your waist, and with the other one he held his ‘microphone‘ , singing „All i want for christmasss is youuuuu“ And then pointing at you. You started dancing around together too. In a little clumsy pirouette move, where you would never think this man was a professional dancer, Hyunjin accidentally threw a bag of flour off the stove. In only a few seconds you both and the whole floor were coated in a thick layer of flour. For a moment you were both flabbergasted, but soon you bursted out laughing, and hyunjin just kept singing like it was nothing. This whole moment felt so heartwarming and silly, you just knew this was one of those moments you would still think of in twenty years. Hyunjin ended his little concert with one more time singing the refrain line and then he picked you up and swirled you around, the flour flying around in the air. You squealed, not expecting it, wich only made him chuckle. As he let you down again, he pulled you close again, pressing a kiss to your forehead, not caring that now flour was on his lips.„I love you so much.“
You giggled, wrapping your arms around him, so now you were both wrapped up tightly in each others embrace, not caring about the fact that you were just distributing the flour even more.
„You said that so often today.“
„Yes because i never ever want you to forget it, alright love?“ he held you jut a bit tighter, and you felt his nose nuzzling against your neck.
„alright.“
„Good. Let‘s just stay like this for a little while longer? You look cute in flour.“
„As long as you want to.“ you smiled softly and laid your head against his chest, feeling his heartbeat.
After a while the flour got a bit itchy though, you both had to admit. So you went into your room, getting some clothes for you and hyunjin, while he went into the bathroom to run a bath. You took your matching christmas pajamas, the fluffy one with gingerbread men on it. As you came into the bathroom, hyunjin was turning on the water, putting some of your favorite cinammon-bath salt in it. He had also lit some candles, and turned off the big light, so the whole bathroom was tinted in golden light. You both undressed, and you stepped into the tub first, sitting down at the end of it. Hyunjin waited and raised a brow. „Don‘t you want me to sit behind you like usual? You always like when i massage your scalp, or your tense shoulders“ You gently smiled up to him. „Today i‘m gonna do all that for you. It was so wonderful to just forget everything today, and with the christmas market and the snow, everything was just perfect. But you‘re still my sick baby. So sit down, today it‘s me who is gonna massage your scalp.“ Hyunjin‘s eyes filled with tears, and a fond smile crept up to his lips. He got into the bathtub too, sitting down between your legs, like you usually did with him. You soon gently started to run your fingers through his hair, and he closed his eyes, cherishing the feeling. After a while you felt his muscles completely relax, and his breathing get slow and steady, almost like his body was melting into yours. You held him tight, one hand still in his hair, and from time to time you kissed his shoulder, like he always did to you.
After a while when you almost thought he had fallen asleep he murmured: „The water‘s getting cold.“
You hummed. „Let‘s get out, and get you to sleep jinnie.“
„But the gingerbread.“ He mumbled, but his eyes were already closed. You smiled and he whined as you got up and out of the tub. „We can still make the little gingerbread men, and ferrets and whatever you want, tomorrow.“ You took a fluffy towel, and wrapped it around yourself. Then you got another one, and tried dragging hyunjin out of the water.
„But then it‘s already christmas day. That‘s against the rules my lady.“ You chuckled at his sleepy confused mumbling. „We are making our own rules.“ You took the towel and slowy dried him off. Then you softly pushed him down to sit on the bathtub edge and put him on his pajamas. „You are taking care of me so well love… Never gonna stop loving you, i‘ll protect my muse at all costs, even when i‘m not physically with you anymore.“ He mumbled, so incoherent and sleep drunken you almost didn‘t understand it. „I know jinnie, i know. Now let‘s get you to bed, hm?“ He whined, and after you quickly put on your own pajamas too, you helped him get up and you both went to bed. As he laid down, you pulled the comforter up to his chin, lovingly stroking his hair. Then you got into bed too, closing your eyes. When you were already at the edge of sleep you suddenly heard hyunjin speak up again. „Y/n?“
„Hmm?“ „Please say it back“
„What are you talking bout.“
„That you love me. I‘m so tired already, but somehow i feel like i won‘t fall asleep if you don‘t say it.“
If you would have thought about that, maybe you could have somewhere already thought that it was coming. Hyunjin‘s pure soul was bracing itself for something, as if he knew.
„I love you. Forever and ever.“
And then you both drifted off.
When you woke up, you didn‘t immediately open your eyes. But you knew. You felt it. You could never describe this feeling, or how you would know, but you had no doubt your hyunjin was somewhere else now. Somewhere far away. And when you finally did open your eyes you took a second to breathe in. You slowly sat up and braced yourself. Then you looked to your side. There he was, looking like he was sleeping peacefully. You didn‘t know if you were imagining that or if it was real but it seemed like even a small smile was laying on his lips. You were oddly calm, as you stood up, and walked around to hyunjin‘s side.
You crouched down next to the bed, and with a slight tremble you took his hand in yours. It was still a bit warm. You pressed a kiss to it, as a silent tear rolled down your cheek. „Hey hyunnie. I don‘t know if you can hear me, but i just want to tell you that i love you okay? Don‘t forget that. And i hope you weren‘t in pain when it happened. Just know that you can peacefully go wherever you are supposed to go now. It‘s okay for me. I will continue living, also if the pain of your absence will daily remind me of the fact that you aren‘t with me anymore. But that‘s okay. I thought that this pain is the worst, but it makes me remember you, and that‘s what i want to do for the rest of my life, so actually i will be okay with it. That day yesterday was really a perfect day, as you said. I guess somehow our souls knew that soon they would have to say goodbye to each other. It helped me realize that when you die i won‘t have to act all strong, and feel like suffocating when i‘m alone. Oh by the way, i‘ll call the guys soon, and tell them. Then i‘ll bake our gingerbreadmen okay? And i‘ll be taking good care of mini jinnie, so you don‘t have to worry about him and his little scarf.“ You smiled through the tears running down your cheeks, that were silently landing on the bed next to hyunjin.
„So hyunnie, i bet you are wating for me to finish my dramatic boring speech so you can finally go in peace, hm? I wish you merry christmas my one and only love.“ You kissed his hand tenderly for the last time, a single little tear dripping down onto it.
Taglist: @0omillo0 @lina-linny @darqlys
@onementally-unstabel-kid @idek6758 @sadie-tucker @kozumesphone
@urlocalmultigroupfan @thoughtfularbiternightmare @lezleeferguson-120
@stayblrofficial hello this is my submission for the stayblrholiday event! For some reason I can’t send y’all the link but yeah I hope tagging is okay too!<3
#stayblrholidayevent#stray kids#skz#straykids#stray kids fanfic#hyunjin#hwang hyunjin angst#hwang hyunjin fluff#hwang hyunjin x reader#hyunjin stray kids#stray kids x female reader#stray kids x reader#stray kids comfort#hyunjin comfort#hwang hyunjin comfort#christmas#stray kids christmas#stray kids hyunjin#hwang hyunjin fanfic#hwang hyunjin fanfiction#hyunjin fanfiction#hyunjin x reader#hyunjin fluff#hyunjin scenarios#stray kids angst#stray kids fanfiction#Stray kids fluff#stray kids hyunjin angst#stray kids hyunjin fluff#straykids hyunjin
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Valentine Day Headcanons
I know it took me a while to do this, as classes make it a little difficult for me, this is another gift for someone very special to me, the @kaval0 💕
Norton Campbell
• Incredible as it may seem, he remembered the date and was prepared days before as he saw the children arranging things to give gifts to those they like,
• Everyone in the mansion was surprised when he handed you a flower and chocolates,
• Naib stole some chocolates just to tease Norton, as usual,
• His embarrassed look when he handed you the chocolates was really cute,
• Both Melly, Frederick and Alice wondered if he was actually sick,
• In general, no one in the mansion expected Norton to give you chocolates
Ronald of Ness
• He closed the theater so he could have time with just you,
• I always saw this skin as one of Norton's most romantic skins because he's an actor,
• This man is not very good at cooking, so the one who helped him with everything was Lady Truth,
• He compares you all the time to flowers, especially roses,
• For a whole day, you can wear his hat and mask,
• He called Mr. Inference to boast that he had company on Valentine's Day...
Naib Subedar
• You two ate the chocolates together, it was cute according to witnesses,
• He worked hard to make the chocolates and even harder not to eat them 💕
• Norton played little a with Naib, but he didn't care and ignored Norton,
• He was a little shy when it came to handing over the chocolate, as he had never done it before,
• Eli helped him have the courage to go talk to you and Brooke watched so Naib didn't give up halfway,
• Spending Valentine's Day with him was definitely a lot of fun
Morningstar
• He made his servants make a feast just for you,
• He just loves spoiling you, whether it's a holiday or just a regular day,
• There isn't a day that goes by that he doesn't say he loves you out of fear of losing you,
• He made you a crown similar to his as a gift,
• He himself searched the entire kingdom for the most beautiful rose so he could give it to you,
• In general, Morningstar is a sweet, beautiful, perfect and sweetheart
Orpheus
• This man simply wrote the most romantic poem you've ever seen in your life, along with flowers and chocolate,
• Guess who had a pinky in the middle of one of the letters you received? Exactly, Little Girl,
• You two had a great day together,
• He took the day to listen to you talk about the books you like while giving your opinion about them too,
• He is very good with words, so sometimes he would say something or other to embarrass you, like a compliment in French that he learned from Frederick,
• There was no shortage of tea and cookies in the afternoon for you two
Bonus due to our zap/discord ship in which I am Frederick
Frederick Kreiburg
• Ok... you woke up hearing him playing your favorite song on the piano,
• If you ask him about this, you will only hear: "I feel like playing this song", with an indifferent pose as always,
• On the coffee table, there is a plate with some strawberries covered in chocolate and a handmade letter from him,
• He has a slight difficulty being romantic, but his small acts show that he cares a lot about you,
• He won't mind spending the day playing the piano for you if you wish,
• If you don't want him to spend the day playing the piano for you, he won't mind taking you somewhere relaxing with few people
#identity v x reader#naib subedar x reader#norton campbell x reader#ithaqua morningstar#ithaqua x reader#orpheus idv x reader#norton campbell ronald of ness
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A House is Not a Home
Warnings: Emotional and physical abuse from parents, mention of eating disorder and past suicide attempt. This fic covers a lot of heavy topics please do not read if any of this will upset or trigger you
Word count: 2.5k
A firm metal metal hand was placed on your leg the entire two hour drive. His fingers methodically rubbed over your leg, trying to keep you calm.
You hadn’t wanted to go home for thanksgiving but you did wanna see your little sister. Even if it meant having to face your parents.
All that you had told Bucky was that you had a complicated relationship with your parents. That was enough for him. He didn’t wanna pry or push you to tell him more until you were ready to tell him.
You were tense in the days leading up to going home, snapping at just about everyone, stressing over what you were going to wear for hours on end, and even making Bucky try on a dozen things before deciding what was right. You may not have told him all of the details about your family, but he knew that he had to support you through the visit.
You took a deep breath as you pulled into the driveway. Even just looking at the house made you feel sick.
“Hey,” Bucky said, turning your face to him. “It’s not too late to turn around. We can back out of this driveway and go right back home.”
“I know, I know.” You sounded out of breath like you were trying to keep a panic attack at bay, which you were. “But I have to do this. If I give up now, I’ll just be mad at myself. Plus, my sister asked me to be here. I have to do this for her.”
He kissed you passionately before getting out of the car and running around to open your door for you.
You played with your dress when you got out of the car. “Do I look okay? Is my hair fine? Any wrinkles in my dress?” You turned around, waiting for Bucky to inspect you and make sure you looked perfect.
“Honey, you look beautiful. Absolutely stunning.” He placed a supportive hand on your back as you walked to the door.
“Y/N!” Your mother said with a sickly smile as she opened the door. That was her front. The fake smiles and niceness. You winced as she pulled you into a hug. “Have you been eating healthy?” She grabbed your shoulders, analyzing your body. “You look like you’ve gained weight. I’m worried about you.”
Of course she had already made a comment on your weight before you had even made it five steps in the door. “Nice to see you too, Mom,” you huffed, not acknowledging her comment. “This is Bucky.”
“I’m impressed,” your mom said, looking him up and down. “Who’s paying you to be with her, huh?”
“Wow, thanks mom,” you said harshly. Great, you were already losing it and it had been about 30 seconds.
“Oh, honey, I’m just kidding!” She laughed at her own “joke” as she walked away.
“Oh, wow,” Bucky said to you, eyes wide. “That’s your mother.”
You nodded slowly. “That was my mother being nice.” He took his hand in yours. “Come on, I want you to meet my sister.”
You lead him through the house in search of your younger sister, Charlotte. After being unable to find her downstairs, you went upstairs and knocked on her door. When you opened it, she was sat on her bed scrolling on her phone.
“Y/N!” She ran over when she saw you. You laughed, pulling her into a tight embrace. Even though she was 17, she was your best friend.
“What are you doing up here, Char?” You asked, already somewhat knowing the answer.
She looked at you, expression growing serious. “He started drinking at 5am.”
You had been expecting to find your father drunk. He was an alcoholic and he had been your entire life. He had periods where he would be functional, almost being an actual loving father to you. But the holidays were always bad. He was seen with a drink in his hand at all times. He was aggressive and would lash out at any time. Your whole childhood, you walked on eggshells hoping that you wouldn’t be in the wrong place at the wrong time and become his target.
You looked at your sister, noticing a bruise on her arm. “Jesus, Char,” you said, holding her wrist carefully to look closer. “Is this from today?”
She nodded. “It wasn’t that bad. He just grabbed me. I’ve been up here since. He’s probably in the basement drunk off his ass watching football.”
Bucky silently stood listening to the two of you speak. He didn’t need anyone to spell out for him what was happening. It all made sense now. The way you would flinch when anyone showed a sign of aggression. Why you didn’t drink. Even why you were always concerned about your weight and the way you looked.
“Y/N…” he said quietly. He was in shock.
“Oh, sorry. Charlotte, this is Bucky.”
Charlotte looked him up and down. “Damn, sis! Do you happen to have a younger brother by any chance?” The comment was just like Charlotte. Able to go from sad and dark to joking and upbeat in seconds.
Bucky laughed. “I like you already.”
An hour later, you had finally convinced Charlotte to come out of her room and join you downstairs. “I’m not gonna let him touch you, okay?” You reassured her. There was still no sign of your father but occasional yelling could be heard from the basement, causing both you and your sister to flinch each time.
Your aunt came into the living room to tell you that dinner was ready. “Great,” you sighed as the three of you got up. Eating any meal with your mother wasn’t a fun time for you.
Everyone sat down around the large dining room table. You heard heavy footsteps approaching as your father’s face came into view. He was clearly piss drunk. Normally, the sight would make you shudder away like a child but having Bucky next to you made you feel safe. You knew he’d never let anything happen to you.
“Y/N,” he said sternly. “Nice of you to finally show your face around here. A bitch gets recruited by Tony Stark and she’s suddenly too good for the man who fuckin’ raised her.”
You didn’t say anything in response, just looked at the floor unable to meet his eyes. You always knew your brain would get you out of that house, some way. You never expected your dream to come true, getting to work with Tony as his lab assistant.
“You gonna answer your father, you little bitch?” He snapped.
“What, you gonna hit me if I don’t?” You snapped, standing up.
Your father lunged at you. “Ungrateful cunt. I gave you everything!”
The second he stepped towards you, Bucky was up and out of his seat blocking his path. Over his dead body would this man ever lay a hand on you, or your sister, ever again. “Keep your fucking hands off of her!” Your boyfriend said.
Your mother stood up. “I didn’t slave over this meal for two days so it could go cold on the table!”
Your father backed off, sitting down and you and Bucky did the same. Everyone started passing around the food and you put a miniscule amount on your plate. You could eat more later back at the compound if you were hungry.
“Babe, you gotta eat more than that,” Bucky said, putting another scoop of mashed potatoes on your plate.
Your mother watched as the negative space on the dish shrunk. “You really think you should be eating all of that, sweetie?” She noticed the glare you gave her as she spoke. “I’m just looking out for you,” she chimed, placing a hand on yours.
You rushed out of the house within seconds after everyone had finished eating. You tried to convince Charlotte to come stay with you, even just for a couple nights, but she assured you she was fine and she was gonna stay with her best friend for a few days. You told her that if she needed to leave, she could always come to the compound. Temporary, or for good. You just wanted to protect your little sister. Without you even asking, Bucky got in the driver’s seat. It was like he could read your mind that you weren’t in the headspace to operate a vehicle.
You were quiet as you drove back, unsure of what to even say. You felt bad that you hadn't fully prepared Bucky for what he was walking into. You were naive to think that your family could have one normal holiday.
“I’m sorry,” you finally spoke, 40 minutes into the drive. “I shouldn’t have put you through that.”
“Hey,” he placed his hand back on your thigh, where it had sat the entire drive there. “Do not apologize. I’m sorry. I should have done more to defend you. I just wish I had known. I would have pulled out some old Winter Soldier moves,” he smiled, trying his hardest to make you laugh.
You flashed him a small smile. “Just you being there with me was more than enough. My family is… complicated.” The things Bucky had seen tonight only scratched the surface of how you had grown up. “My mom, she… she’s always been on me about my weight. The first memory I have of her pointing out what I was eating is from when I was 4. I mean, I couldn’t even read yet but she was scolding me for eating a fucking cookie once in a while!” you laughed dryly, trying to hold back tears. “She put me on a diet plan when I was 11. I was only allowed to eat 800 calories a day. Then when I turned 15, it became 700. I developed a really bad eating disorder, obviously. I’ve gotten it under control but… I don’t know if I’ll ever fully be free of the things she put into my head.”
“Jesus…” Bucky was shocked. “You were just a child. Literally a child. I mean 4 years old? Who does that? And to their own daughter!”
You went quiet as tears fell from your cheeks. Even the years of therapy that you had done couldn’t erase the pain you had gone through. All of the times that you just needed a mother.
“I didn’t have anyone, Buck,” you said quietly. “I’m sure you’ve gathered what happened with my dad. He’s a drunk and he a piece of shit who hits his fucking children.”
Bucky’s heart broke for you. No one deserved what you had gone through. “Baby…” he said, softly. “You deserve so much better. Parents who took care of you. Who loved you. I know this doesn’t erase any of the pain but just listen to me for a second. You are incredible. You are a genius who is creating world-changing technology. You are kind and sympathetic and such a genuinely good soul. And you are beautiful. Inside and out. I know that doesn’t take away the things those fuckers did to you,” he took a deep breath, getting angry just from thinking about it. “But you didn’t let that stop you from changing the fucking world. I already admired you every single day, but now I admire you even more. God, baby, I’m so in awe of you. You are so resilient.”
His words made you cry even more. He didn’t tell you to stop. He just let you cry as he drove, desperate to get home so he could hold you tightly.
Eventually, he pulled into the compound. He held your hand as he walked you to your room. You were still crying, clearly physically and emotionally exhausted from the day you had. He helped you change out of your dress, slipping one of his sweatshirts on over your head and getting you into pajama pants. He brought you water so you could rehydrate all of the tears you had emitted. And then he curled up beside you and held you as tight as he could.
“I tried to kill myself once,” you spoke after a long time. Your voice was so quiet he thought he had heard you wrong. The words made his heart beat fast. “When I was 16. I just couldn’t take it anymore. I swallowed a bunch of pills and just waited for it all to be over.” You paused, catching your breath before continuing. “Charlotte found me. She was only 9 at the time. I woke up in the hospital and my mom came in. Do you know what she said to me?” You let out another sob. “She told me she wished it had worked. She said she wished Charlotte hadn't known to call 911 in an emergency. My own mother wanted me dead, Bucky,” you cried, burying your face into his chest and staining his shirt with tears.
“Oh my god,” he said, rubbing your back up and down. “God, I don’t know what to say. I’m so happy you’re still here. You’re the love of my life and I-” he felt his own voice breaking. “I don’t know what I would do without you. I’m so thankful to your sister, you have no idea. The thought of never meeting you, the thought of losing you… I wouldn’t know what I’d do, baby. Do you… do you still think about killing yourself ever?”
“No,” you said quickly, reassuring him. “Not anymore. Not that I’m out of that house. I just… I worry about Charlotte so much. She’s almost 18 and I’ve already told her not to worry about money. I’ll pay for college or a house or whatever she wants to do to get out of there. But still, I feel sick to my stomach every day she’s still in that house. I’ve tried to get her to come here but I think she’s scared of them lashing out.”
“We’re gonna get her out of there. I promise you that. I’ll make her believe that she has nothing to be afraid of if she comes here. If your parents retaliate, well, she’ll have an entire army of superheros protecting her.”
You sniffled, trying your hardest to slow your crying. You were so exhausted and it was getting difficult for you to stay awake. “Thank you, Bucky. For protecting my sister. For protecting me tonight. Thank you for just…being here.”
He kissed the top of your head as he continued rubbing comforting circles on your back. “I would do anything for you. You’re my entire world, Y/N. I love you so much.” He noticed how exhausted you were. You needed sleep. “Can you try to get some rest for me, baby? I’ll be right here, okay? I’m not going anywhere. I’m never leaving.”
“Okay,” you said into his chest, finally allowing your body to succumb to the sleep you desperately needed.
He held you all night. He held you when you woke up crying from a nightmare. He held you every time you woke up shaking, as the events of your past replayed in your head. Bucky was never going to break his promise to you. As long as he was alive, he would do anything to keep you safe and happy.
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes imagine#bucky x reader#bucky x y/n#sebastian stan#marvel imagine#bucky barnes fanfiction#james bucky barnes#marvel#bucky barnes angst#bucky fluff#bucky angst#bucky fanfic#bucky x you#james bucky buchanan barnes#winter soldier#james buchanan barnes#bucky#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes comfort#bucky barnes fanfic#the winter soldier#captain america#bucky barns imagine#bucky barns fanfiction#bucky barns x reader#bucky barns x y/n#bucky fic#bucky comfort
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I know that canonically (show-wise, at least) St Hilarion's worked to cover up Charles' death, and nothing was ever really done about the disappearance of Edwin and the other boys, but even so, do you think the school has a reputation for being haunted??
I'm imagining Niko following various ghost-hunter groups online, especially when the agency doesn't have many cases going on, and occasionally the boys will mirror hop over to an interesting-sounding location, and they'll even get a real case as a result
So when she tells them that one of the teams is planning to investigate St Hilarion's (either it's been closed for a while or they have special permission to go during the summer holidays), Edwin and Charles steel themselves and decide to go, in case there are other ghosts there that need help ('can't imagine a worse place to be trapped for the rest of my afterlife' says Charles, who has been to literal hell. Edwin, who spent 70 years in literal hell, agrees)
So they go, with Niko and Crystal as moral/emotional support, except when they get there they realise they've fucked up and are there on the same day/night as the ghost hunters. They could come back some other time, but what if there really are ghosts here that are suffering? No one wants to take that chance, so Crystal uses her powers to convince them that she and Niko are there for work experience, or are friends of a friend, or are here to replace one of the tech guys who called in sick
Both Charles and Edwin are tense and uncomfortable returning to the place they died - Edwin had gone there after he escaped Hell because he didn't know where else to go, but they've built themselves a home now with the agency. This isn't like before, when it was the closest place to familiar he could find. Charles, meanwhile, feels colder and colder the longer they're there - his hair is wet, there are bruises flaring and spreading, and a faint rattle in his chest that would have become pneumonia if he'd lived long enough
But they need to be sure there aren't any other lost ghosts stuck here that need their help crossing over, so they keep going
(maybe, as a consequence of a door to hell being opened in the school, there are unusual happenings, maybe there's still a place where the line between earth and hell is very thin, maybe there's some fragment of a demon left behind, and they can do something about it)
Anyway, the most important thing is that Charles, either accidentally or in a fit of pique at the whole situation, knocks something over just as one of the paranormal investigators is asking for spirits to make their presence known. In fact, this happens repeatedly - the boys move things, change things around, their presence is detected somehow with the equipment. Crystal and Niko are doing their best to distract the team and ruin as much of the footage as possible, and at least once the boys do something on purpose, maybe because someone is being a creep to the girls (and yes, they both know that Crystal and Niko are more than capable of taking care of themselves, but this way scares the asshole more and is also funnier), and then also to fuck with their readings
Anyway, it's coming to the end of the night, the problem has been identified, and whaddaya knows, of course it's in the attic where they both died. This is fine, why wouldn't it be fine. They get started, draw some (invisible, ghostly) runes and start working their magic when, of course, the paranormal investigators turn up, because this is thought to be the most 'active' area of the school, and the body of a schoolboy was found here in the 80s
Yeah, they try to contact 'any of the boys who disappeared in 1916' and Charles. It would be fine if they weren't so irritatingly loud, Edwin's trying to concentrate, and Charles is now shivering and dripping wet, but they managed to ignore the team right up until they start speculating that Charles was killed by one of the angry spirits from 1916
At which point, Charles - half visible, clearly enraged, looking very much like the half-drowned and frozen kid he was, like a proper ghost - tells them to fuck off already before they get hurt, they don't understand anything, and how dare they give a shit now when it's too late
Which is, of course, the exact moment Edwin finishes the spell, and causes some sort of a magical rebound that fritzes the cameras for a second, throws furniture around, and knocks them all flying. When the cameras start up again, they catch Edwin kneeling by Charles, holding his hand, and softly telling him that it's ok, it's over, they can go now. Charles sniffs and smiles and knocks their foreheads together and says yeah, let's get out of here, and together they fade from view
The investigators think this means gay love can pierce the veil of death and save the day that now that the truth of their story is known the ghosts have moved on, and it's all thanks to them! How beautiful, how wonderful, how affirming! Perhaps one of the boys from 1916 tried to help Charles, and when that didn't work, they both stayed to try and protect other people from these violent spirits, and now their unfinished business is finished! It's so tragic and touching story
Charles and Edwin, who are putting their tools back in the backpack, roll their eyes and smile at each other
On the way out, Charles swipes the memory cards from the cameras, Edwin inscribes a couple of sneaky runes on various pieces of equipment to fuck with it, and Crystal uses her powers to make sure they all remember a couple of details differently, so later they won't be able to agree on a bunch of stuff
The episode they were trying to make can't be released, their social media posts about the experience are full of details that don't match up, and fans are bitterly disappointed
Crystal and Niko watch the footage Charles stole with Jenny and the Night Nurse back at the agency. Jenny turns it into a drinking game. Charles does a dramatic reading of the posts with added commentary while Edwin pretends he's not laughing. They buy t-shirts of the paranormal investigators and wear them ironically. They leave anonymous comments
Just. The dead boy detectives having to work around ghost hunters, in a world where ghosts definitely, tangibly exist
#dead boy detectives#charles rowland#edwin payne#crystal palace#niko sasaki#Not exactly a writing tag
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It Hurts Me (an Elvis fic)
Pairing: 50s!Elvis x Fem!Reader
Summary: Elvis’ high school best friend, and also his crush, gets into a bad relationship, and the whole town starts to notice including Elvis. When it hits a breaking point for him, he decides he’s had enough.
Warnings/Triggers: Domestic violence, Emotional abuse, Self-loathing behavior, references to puking (Elvis), references to bruises, slight mentions of payback (Elvis), Crying. If I missed any, please lmk!
Memphis, Tennessee-
Elvis was in love with you. A broken girl in a broken relationship.
You had met a guy a year back, and you fell for him. He had impressed you with his charm, charm that would soon disappear.
**
Elvis fell in love with you the second he laid eyes on you. History class at Humes High. You came half way through the school year, embarrassed and shy.
The second you walked through the classroom door, a young Elvis felt like he had been electrocuted. He couldn't quite put his finger on what it was about you that made him feel as he did.
He loved the way you smiled, it made him smile. Your laugh was like heaven to him. He couldn't get enough of your sweet voice, even when you weren't around his mind was full of you and your voice. Every time you touched him he would get chills. It was like a flame igniting inside him.
You two were fast friends. In fact, Elvis was the only friend you had in Memphis. The best friend in the world was what you would describe him as. You spent every free second you had together. He was like a breath of fresh air, an escape from real life and all the troubles it came with.
Yet for some reason you had convinced yourself that you only saw him as a friend. He was strictly off limits intimately.
As the years went on, Elvis was finally going to find the courage to ask you out. But when you met a guy at Memphis State College Elvis felt helpless. He couldn't bring himself to tell you his feelings, so he sat by and watched the love of his life with another man. It was awful- even making him physically sick sometimes.
You seemed so happy and Elvis didn't want to change that. But as two months turned into a year, poor Elvis fell even deeper for you. It was like he had no control over it- an invisible force pulling him to you.
**
You had been hurting for months. Max had started showing his true colors.
A slight, meaningless glance at a man that wasn't him would earn a punch. Then there were the times that he put you down emotionally, he could make everything you did something to make you feel horrible about. You were either too loving or not enough. Nothing you did was right.
You felt so utterly alone. He had made you hate yourself to the point that you couldn't even look at yourself in the mirror.
Then there was him, your best friend, Elvis. The rare moments you had with him were the only times you felt loved. But even then, you didn't think you deserved to be loved. Max had screwed with you so much mentally and physically. He had broken you.
And you thought you had concealed it so well. In public you wore makeup and acted as if nothing was wrong.
But people talked and snooped. Somewhere along the way the whole town had an idea of how unwell your relationship was going.
But Elvis had it all figured out the second it began. It started with less eye contact, then you lost your ability to touch him, the flinching away from his own touch came next, his heart broke when your smile faded away. He was absolutely sure when your visits became more rare, and eventually they stopped altogether except special occasions like holidays and the such.
And when your little sister let it slip that she hadn't been hearing from you as much either, he went home and cried for hours. He couldn't believe it. It made his blood boil that you were hurting. He was hurting from just thinking about it.
His family spent every holiday with yours, something that came about from your friendship. In the process of you two getting closer, so did your families.
On Thanksgiving he locked himself in the bathroom and puked. You were hugging your mother when your sleeve rolled up the slightest bit, and he came face to face with a bruised handprint on your forearm.
**
Christmas, 1954-
Elvis had just began getting famous, it was happening so fast. You were so proud of him.
After not being able to think fast enough to get away, you were sucked into a hug by him. You were so scared, and wished you could go back in time so it wouldn't have happened.
Max had seen, and pulled you into another room. "What the hell was that, Y/N?" He snarled, pushing you into the wall forcefully. "I'm sorry! I didn't know he was going to do that," you whispered.
"I'll bet you liked it," "No, I promise!"
He obviously thought differently as he smacked you across the face, "you little slut, don't you ever pull that shit again," and then he straightened his tie and walked back into the living room.
You sank onto the floor in a crying mess.
After what felt like hours, but in reality was only two minutes, a knock came from the door. You froze, covering your mouth with your hand to silence yourself.
Your antics had been unsuccessful as the door creeped open slowly. Elvis poked his head in. At seeing you, he quickly came in and dropped down onto the floor in front of you.
He didn't even say anything at first- opening his arms to you and waiting. You realized how desperately you missed him and scooted into his embrace. You held onto him for dear life, nuzzling your head as far as you could into his chest.
He maneuvered you onto his lap and held you as you cried. Elvis stroked your hair gently and rocked you. The two of you stayed like that until you were ready to let go.
You stared into your best friend's eyes and mustered up the courage to finally tell him. You were so done with feeling this way, you missed him so badly that it hurt your stomach sometimes.
"I'm sorry, Elvis. It's just t-that Max-" you we're interrupted by his finger on your lips. "I know, honey. It's okay, you ain't gotta worry about him no more." He said gently. "What do you mean?"
The ghost of a smile flashed over his lips, "When you're ready to go back out there, I'm gonna kick his ass." He stated matter of factly. All you could do was stare back at him.
Elvis's eyes glanced to your lips, causing chills to run up your spine. And as he leaned in you didn't stop him.
When his lips connected with yours it felt like fireworks had erupted in your belly. You soon realized that you didn't ever want this to end, and that you had been wanting this since the second you met Elvis Presley.
You had been in love with him all along, just too scared to admit it.
He rested his forehead against yours as he pulled away. "It hurts me the way he treats you, honey." He whispered, breathlessly. And for the first time in a very long time you smiled a genuine smile.
"I love ya, Y/N. I have since day one," he breathed. You grabbed his face and pulled him into a passionate kiss. His tongue caressed your bottom lip, making you sigh, and in the process he slipped it into your mouth.
When you pulled away for air, you whispered, "I love you too, Elvis. I always have."
Heyyy, stopping in to give you this fic from my Wattpad that’s from 2022. Um it’s probably horrible, so bear with me. I just wanted to post something to keep my account active while I continue working on the His Annie Baker series. Enjoy🫶🏻
Tags: @queenstarlight @jhoneybees
#elvis presley#elvis fans#elvisaaronpresley#elvis fic#vintage#70s#elvis the pelvis#elvis x reader#elvis x y/n#fanfic#50s elvis#70s elvis#60s elvis#elvis fandom#elvis fanfiction#elvis presley fanfiction#elvis the king
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