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reidrum · 3 months ago

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under the mistletoe

note: happy first day of reidrumas! a nice little munch!spencer to keep you warm <3

summary: in which penelope uses a plant to get her friends together, or the time you find yourself under the mistletoe with spencer

cw: smut 18+ minors dni, munch!spencer, fingering, oral (f receiving), heavy kissing, idiots in love, friends to lovers, fem!reader, reader wears a dress and heels

wc: 2.8k

12 days of reidrumas

The annual BAU Christmas Party became an accord Penelope headed all on her own, and was a job she took very seriously. The amount of times the team had been called away on a case near or on a major holiday is too sad a number to count, so whenever there was certainty that there would be no case or bureau event, Penelope went all in.

That is, on David Rossi’s credit card, of course.

Light up sleighs and reindeers adorned the front lawn of Rossi’s mansion, of which was decorated with red ribbons and twinkle lights galore. The silhouette of the biggest Christmas tree you think you’d ever seen was illuminated in the window as you approached the front, rubbing clammy hands down the sides of your dress.

You don’t even know why you’re so nervous, just that you are. While it had been some time since you had joined the team and you have definitely had some fun nights out with them, the nerves never get easier to deal with when you know a certain genius will be in your presence.

It seemed everyone knew of your crush on Spencer except the man himself. The way your face heats up when you’re near him, the words tripping over each other as you try to speak, somehow are not dead giveaways to him. If he notices your nerves, he doesn’t mention it, and you don’t know if that’s a good or bad thing.

A call of your name from the bottom of the stairs grabs your attention, and you see none other than Spencer coming up the stairs to meet you. He straightens out his sweater and looks at all of you, “You look nice.”

Suddenly you forget what words are, “Um…I.. thanks! I just got this, and I thought the antlers would be cute too.” you gesture to the light up headband.

“They’re really cute.” he smiles and gestures you to walk in, and you’re both ambushed by Penelope immediately.

“You’re here! Oh, you look so cute with your little reindeer antlers,” she gushes, “And Spencer! Looking so dapper!” You both walk down the hallway with her, seemingly leading you to the kitchen when she abruptly stops halfway.

“You’re too cheery. What did you do?” you squint.

“Don’t hate me.”

Your eyebrows raise, “What did you do?”

“Why would we hate you?” Spencer says at the same time.

Penelope pauses, and with a hint of mischief in her voice, “Look up.”

Your eyes trail upwards to the arch of the door you’re both stood in, and there hanging with its leaves and red and white berries tied in ribbon, is of course, mistletoe.

“Penny.” you mumble under your breath. If she heard you she paid no mind, only beaming at you both with her Cheshire cat grin. You look over at poor Spencer, who’s sheepish smile and red cheeks are breaking through his stoic demeanor.

“Did you know mistletoe in nature is actually poisonous? It’s a parasitic plant that has to grow on other trees in order to survive. But it’s holiday tradition comes from Norse mythology when the son of Odin is killed and his mother is so upset her tears turn into the berries on the plant, as a symbol of her love for him.” Spencer rambles out of nervousness.

“That sounds nice Spence,” Penelope grabs both of your hands and positions you in front of each other in the doorway, “Okay great, I’m sure you know the rules of mistletoe. Now kiss.”

“Penelope.” you lightly chide. Her persistence is a match for no one, there’s no way of getting out.

“You have to, that’s the rule! If you don’t, Christmas will be ruined!” she sighs dramatically.

You blink at her a few times hoping she understands that she’s out of her mind and that it’s a little cruel to put you and Spencer in this situation. This is probably his worst nightmare. He has that thing with germs you remember and you both are merely friends so there’s no way he’d see you like that, yet alone want to kiss you because a plant said you had to.

Spencer clears his throat in front of you, and says with a soft voice, “Well, if it’s going to ruin Christmas…”

Huh. Maybe not as cruel as you think.

You turn your head to meet his eyes, “You’re okay with this?”

He nods sheepishly, “I—I mean I love holidays, and even though I’d never done this part of Christmas, I’d hate to break tradition….”

You look at him with disbelief, but Penelope’s smile could not be wider and she squeals, “Amazing! Okay, I’m ready.”

You both look at her knowingly, and she immediately puts her hands up. “Alright, fine! I can take a hint. But, I want details later, both of you.” she busies herself off in the kitchen.

Spencer turns his body to face you, hands tentatively reaching out to ghost the curve of your hips. His eyes look to you for permission, and with a slight nod he takes purchase, bringing you closer while resting his hands on your sides. You gingerly place your flat palms on his shoulders, and it’s then you realize just how close you both are. His breath fans softly against your face, and even in heels you find yourself rising a bit further to meet his lips.

Just mere milliseconds before your lips meet he whispers with the softest pitch you’ve ever heard, “You sure this is okay?”

You think you give him a nod and a word of approval, but it’s lost as soon as you press your lips onto his with no hesitancy. His hands pull you closer to him, leaning deeper into the kiss. The endorphins run loose before being corralled immediately as the kiss ends as quickly as it began.

He pulls back and he stares at your puffy lips, lips that are puffy because of him and it’s enough to drive him insane. He needs to find a way to have you like that again, to feel your lips against his again fearless of a watchful eye, to show you that he really doesn’t give a damn for tradition, but would do rituals and ceremonies on end if it meant getting to kiss you like that again.

You’re about to say something when your name is called from the living room, the other girls now noticing your arrival and waving you over to grab a drink. You look between them and Spencer, “I should go,” you say reluctantly, “Find me later?”.

He smiles softly, “I’ll find you later.”

You hesitate before moving, wondering if it’s even a good idea. But you realize you’re already this far deep, so what difference would it make? Your eyes dart between the girls and Spencer once more making sure they’re not looking, and rise to your toes again to kiss his cheek, “See you later, Spence.”

A blush rises to his cheek as he touches the spot with his fingers, watching you walk into the living room. You might be the death of him, he thinks.

—

The party’s gone on, games of white elephant are played and countless wine bottles are scattered around the place. He finds himself in an aimless conversation with Matt and Luke, he thinks they’re talking about some sport, but all Spencer can think about is you and your damn lips.

You’re addictive, he’s come to find. He’s had a taste of the forbidden fruit and now fully empathizes with Eve, thinking if something was as nectarious as you, he’d also have to go to great lengths to get it again.

He excuses himself from the conversation, not caring if they said anything, and goes off to find you. You’re sat on the loveseat with JJ that’s entirely too small for the two of you, but you certainly look comfy wedged into the seat. He circles around the back, resting a hand on your shoulder to let you know of his presence and bending down to whisper in your ear, “Is this a good time to find you?”

You startle a little at the voice, calming once you recognize it to be Spencer. You’re surprised he actually came and found you like he said he would, and by the look of his face it seemed like a determined mission.

“I’d say it is,” you smile up at him, his body looming over you behind the couch. He holds a hand out for you, “I’ll be back, J.” you tell her as you stand up. She looks between you and Spencer and a smug look rises to her face.

“Okay…be safe.” she winks. You groan.

Spencer leads you away from the bustle of the living room and further into the depths of Rossi’s mansion. You both walk side by side, talking aimlessly about anything and everything, grateful to have moments just walking with each other. You push open on a fancy door, revealing a vastly large room but with the same crown modeling as the rest of the place. A three piece couch set rests in the middle, and bookshelves filled with antiques line the walls.

You’re intrigued by the telescope pointed out the window, bending down to look through it. Spencer looks up from the book he’s holding on the other side of the room and watches you. You’re ethereal, the moonlight casting a soft glow on your figure making you look like an angel from above. You gaze through the lens to look at the stars, and he can’t help but wonder how lucky he is to have you in front of him and not in the sky with the rest of them.

“Can I confess something?”

You straighten your back and turn around, eyes widening, “Um, sure.”

“Nothing scary, I promise,” he reassures.

“That’s not concerning.”

He takes a deep breath, “I had an ulterior motive, when I came to find you.”

Your brows furrow nervously, “What do you mean?”

“No no, I meant it, it’s nothing bad,” he confesses, “I just… really wanted to kiss you again.”

Oh. “Me?”

“Yes, you. Who else?” he chuckles.

You stammer, “W—Well, I just wasn’t sure…”

He nods and slowly walks to you, “Would that be okay?”

You look up at him and see that he’s so close again. The waft of his cologne invades your senses. His hair is long again, you told him once he looked good with long hair and he hasn’t so much as looked at some scissors since then. The ends of his curls tickle your forehead when his head dips, lips mere nanometers away.

“Yeah.” you barely muster an audible whisper.

The corners of his lips twitch, “Yeah?” he says in the same pitch, leaning even closer.

“Please.”

His lips press to yours again for the second time this night, and he kisses you with a fervor you couldn’t comprehend. He brings one hand up to cradle the back of your head, padding the impact as he uses the other to back you against the wall. Your hands come up to tangle in his hair, lightly tugging on the roots that makes him fold even more into you.

Kisses travel down the side of your neck to the nape, and he spends time littering the area with lovebites. The soft gasps that leave your mouth only spur him on, but it’s not nearly enough for him.

“Sweetheart,” he pants between kisses, “Need to—fuck—need to taste you, please. Can I?

Your blown out eyes meet his, and it wasn’t even an option to say no when he was begging you so desperately, “Yeah, yes, please.”

His hand snakes through the slit on your dress, tracing the edges of your panties and grinning when he hears your breath hitch. He toys with the edge some more before dipping a finger below the band, never touching you where you really need him but getting awfully close.

“Spence..” you whine.

He groans, “Fuck, you sound so pretty saying my name and I haven’t even touched you yet.” He puts you out of your misery when he finally drags the pad of his index to the bundle of nerves at your center, tracing light circles that draw the prettiest moans he’s ever heard.

You grip his forearms for more stability, feeling your legs turn to jelly. Spencer sees your struggle and wraps an arm around your waist, “I got you, pretty girl it’s okay.” A few more minutes of teasing you and marking you relentlessly and he decides you’re okay enough for him to stand on your own, so he can sink to his knees in front of you.

He doesn’t break eye contact as he crouches down, making sure you’re okay every step of the way. His finger is still tracing a line from your clit to your entrance, the wet line seeping through your panties. He bunches up your dress and silently gestures to you to hold it, and steadies his hands on either side of your hips. He presses chaste kisses up your thighs, your breath getting heavier with each one closer to your center. The delirium hits an all time high when he presses a firm kiss to your core.

Skilled fingers hook your panties to the side, revealing you in all your glistening glory, “Look at you,” he marvels hoarsely, “that all for me?”

You nod fast, “Yes, yes Spence please.” you whine out, you’d sound like you were in pain if it were anyone else.

“Hey, hey it’s okay, don’t do that. I’m gonna take care of you, promise.” he coos, calming your pleas, “Come on, leg on my shoulder.”

The new angle opens you up beautifully for him and he can’t help himself when he leans in and swipes a tentative tongue through your folds, satisfied when he hears the sound of a guttural moan leave you.

You immediately slam your hand over mouth as he taunts, “Careful sweetheart, can’t be too loud or someone’s gonna walk in.”

You try to keep your moans and whimpers to a minimum as he continues eating you out like a man depraved, like all he was meant for on this earth was to be between your legs. He prods a finger around your entrance and slowly slips it in, you whimper and clamp your fingers into his hair tugging tightly.

Spencer groans into you at the feeling, and adds another finger swiftly moving them in and out. You’re getting close, he can feel it from the way you clench around his fingers, unable to stop himself from thinking about how you’d feel clenching around him.

“Ah—I’m….I’m close.” you whimper.

He speeds up ever so slightly, “Yeah? Okay angel, you can let go, it’s okay.”

Soon your climax washes over you, with you gripping his hair tightly and his fingers never faltering as he rides you through it. He slows down his pace as you come down before gently taking them out and giving you one last lick through your folds before standing up.

You yelp but it’s quickly muffled by him kissing you again. He feels you smile into the kiss and matches you before you both start giggling and pull away.

He can hear the smile in your voice when you rest your forehead on his shoulder, “That was…”

An arm wraps around you again to hold stable, “Good, I hope?”

You press a soft kiss at the base of his neck, “Really good. I guess we have to thank Penny now.”

“Actually…”

“What?”

“I may have been the one to tell her to put some mistletoe up.” He confesses sheepishly.

“You told her? S—So you could…like…” you ramble.

“So I would have a chance to kiss you, yes.”

You get real shy in front of him as if he wasn’t on his knees for you five minutes ago, “That’s really sweet…you could’ve told me.”

“I wanted to! But I thought you might not feel the same way because I notice how you are around me and I didn’t want to overwhelm you, but then Penelope told me you felt the same and I just figured one of us had to pull the bandaid off.”

You smile shyly, “I get nervous around you, because I really really like you.” you quietly admit.

He pulls you close into his chest, kissing your forehead softly, “Well that’s good then, because I really really like you too.”

Penelope is obviously over the moon when she finds out, giddy as can be knowing her two best friends are now together. What she doesn’t tell you, is how she sends the mistletoe to a preservation company to be pressed and framed. She’s just preparing to have the best gift ever to bring to your wedding.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x fanfiction #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid criminal minds #reidrumas

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aakeysmash · 5 months ago

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christmas shopping, matching pajamas and family discounts

college!sukuna masterlist

"Why are we here again?" college!sukuna huffs from next to you for the umpteenth time.

"Stop acting like a little bitch. You asked me that 20 seconds ago, Yuuji is acting better than you," you hiss out, glaring at him. It's true though: the kid is trotting right in front of you two, not a care in the world, while his caretaker is currently dragging his feet on the pavement you're walking on.

"And you still didn't answer, fucker," he barks back, grimacing, kicking a little rock.

"Yes, I fucking did! I told you this morning we were going Christmas shopping! You never listen to me," you start, jutting your lip out and trying to play the victim. You know he hates it when you do it. "Maybe I should tell Yuuji how his big brother hates the idea of going shopping with him," you provoke, whispering so that only you and him know what you're talking about. He scoffs, offended.

"Liar. Don't you fucking dare-"

"Are you two fighting again?" whines Yuuji, turning around and pouting. You and Sukuna glance at each other before shaking your head at the same moment.

"No, we're getting along so well," you force yourself to smile.

"Yeah, she said she's so glad I'm accompanying her. Matter of fact, she said she's going to offer us lunch," Sukuna continues, an evil glint in his eyes when he hears you gasp.

"I did not-"

"Really?! Yippie!" screams Yuuji, coming to hug you violently. You stumble back, gritting your teeth, and reciprocate the hug while narrowing your eyes at the grinning tattooed man in front of you. He knows you're not able to say no to his brother.

When Yuuji runs inside the mall, you push Sukuna's shoulder, mumbling "bitch". He just chuckles, then boldly gets you close by placing one open hand on your lower back. You know he's just going to tease you, so you put both hands on his chest to fight back, trying to put some distance between you two, but the place is crowded and everyone is looking at you. A woman passes by you and looks at you weirdly, so you stop wriggling in his grasp, and he delicately pushes you even closer. You're chest to chest, his breath fanning over your features, grin ever present on his face, enjoying how you look pissed out of your mind. From the outside, it looks like you're hugging each other, when in reality he just puts his mouth on your ear to utter "Never play with me, baby. I know how to drive you mad," then frees you and walks behind Yuuji with his hands in his pockets, not turning back to see if you're following him or not. You're seething.

"Oh my God, Yuuji, look at these!" you swoon over a pair of pajama pants. They're a soft brown, decorated with little green Christmas' trees and little reindeers, a bright red Merry Christmas! on both knees.

"It's a set!" squeals the kid next to you, grabbing the sweater right on top of the piece of cloth you have in your hands. You both notice at the same time that the set comes both in adults' and kids' sizes. "Can we take it?" he asks you looking up, puppy eyes activated. Your heartstrings are pulled so tight you feel like you could implode if you look at his face for a second longer.

"Of course we can, I thought it was obvious," you say excitedly, grabbing his hands and jumping up and down with him in a circle while he laughs, smile on full display and brown eyes squeezed shut happily.

Sukuna, who has kept watching his phone for the majority of the time you've been inside the mall, raises his gaze when he hears your laugh mingled with his brother's. If you had been looking at him in that instant, you would've seen the brief soft glimpse that passed on his whole face when he took in how happy you both looked together. When you turn around, though, he's already schooled his features to appear bored.

"Are we done?" he yawns.

"Would you like to match with us?" you ask him, at the same time. You scowl and he scoffs.

"Hell no, girl. I'm not with whatever stupid shit y'all are doing," he says, trying to act tougher than what he actually feels like. Seeing you being kind to the only person in the world who shares 100% of his genes makes him feel things he doesn't want to acknowledge right now.

"You're a party pooper, 'Kuna," Yuuji mumbles, frowning. "Can we still match? I really want us to match," he adds, shily, looking at you. You're shocked. His cheeks are getting redder the more you gawk at him. "Sorry, you can say no-"

Your kiss on his cheek resonates all around the ally you're currently staying in. "Of course I want to match with you. We don't need your evil brother, Yuuji. Let's go try them on," you sweetly say, taking his hand and walking away from Sukuna, not before flipping him off. Yuuji is so giddy that he follows you like he's walking on clouds, his face slightly hurting from how hard he's cheesing.

Sukuna just stands there, baffled and even a little offended. He stiffens, noticing he still has his phone in his hands. He's so fast with it he's the first to remain shocked by his own actions: he hears the click of his camera and looks at the pic he's just taken, feeling his chest heavier than it's ever been. It's a beautifully taken pic, where you and Yuuji are squinting at each other, hand in hand, laughing. He turns off his screen, shakes his head and catches up to you. You're going to give him a headache if you continue being like this. Or a heart attack. Or both.

"Hello, what can I do for you?" the nice old lady at the checkout says.

"Hi, we'd like to take these two pieces," you kindly respond, handing her the pajamas you and Yuuji just tried on.

"Let me see... oh, we actually have a family discount on this! Is the daddy not going to take anything?" she innocently asks, looking over at your older roommate.

"Yo, I'm not his-"

Your eyes almost fall out of your sockets. "Ah ah ah! Silly us! We forgot his one! Just give me a second," you interrupt a scowling Sukuna, covering his mouth with your hand before he can finish his sentence, dragging him away. Yuuji gives the old lady a confused look, to which she responds with "Young parents these days," shaking her head.

"You're going to take the fucking matching set, Sukuna, and you're going to like it," you seethe, still dragging him away (well, it's more like he's letting you drag him away). You hear how he's trying to talk behind your hand. "Don't piss me off. I'm going to pay less to get more, and you're going to listen to me. Go." You ignore him and he raises one eyebrow, looking you up and down, before biting your fingers. You yelp and let him go, scowling. "I said go! And act like you care about me when we get there, we're a family until the discount tells us so!"

"Okay, ma'am," he grins down to you, wiping his saliva from the corner of his mouth with a slow movement, his gaze lingering a bit too much on the way you're panting.

"Move! Take your size and let's go! Yuuji is waiting for us!" you push him, rushing back to the cashier.

"Oh, you were really fast. I thought you were going to argue with the way you rushed away," she says when she sees you come back, surprised. You nervously chuckle, telling her how you were already planning on buying one for Sukuna, you just forgot. "That would be 20.99$."

While you're swiping your card, you suddenly feel engulfed by heat. Sukuna positions his hands on your waist, giving you a half hug from behind while simultaneously giving his best confident grin to the old lady in front of him.

"Yeah. I just like when she bosses me around a bit, if you know what I mean," he says, sultry, winking at the cashier who is chuckling behind her hand, embarrassed, waving him away.

What the fuck? You initially try not to stiffen, then relax and give her a shy smile, and he squeezes you a bit closer. You melt on his chest, feeling hotter than you've felt all day. He's so comfortable. He brushes his lips near your ear and makes sure you hear the way his raspy voice is all around you. "And I do, baby. I really do."

#college au #sukuna x reader #sukuna fluff #ryomen sukuna #ryomen sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x you #sukuna jjk #jjk x y/n #jjk fics #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk fanfic

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mossangelll · 26 days ago

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is that hyperpigmentation?

arcane characters x reader

basically what the title says, you draw the arcane characters à la hyperpigmentation 😍 i needed smth silly to work on to get me out of my writing rut, hope you enjoy :p

content: gn!reader, reader is their partner (could be seen as platonic/child reader but i think most of, if not all, the hcs allude or explicitly call reader their partner - sorry!)

Jinx

she LOVES it

as an artist, engineer, overall creator she can really appreciate the more wacky expressions of art

she does a whole art critique (barely a critique tbh) and pretends to be some stuffy piltie talking about the genius and emotion behind the artwork

“ya know, toots, i’m reaaallyyyy enjoying what ya did with that…um, splodge? on my face there. yeah!”

she draws her own version but this time it’s a portrait of you

you swap them and have a cute little date where you colour the pictures in together and add details in the background

by the end, jinx’s workshop is covered in glue and glitter and paint and powder and also for some reason silly string

jinx even makes frames from scratch so they can be hung up - they’re probably the most nicely presentee decoration she has in her place

Ekko

you slide the portrait of him over to his side of the table in silence

he looks down absently and has to do a double take

“this is…me?” he asks hesitantly with his eyes widened like a deer in headlights; a look you rarely ever see from him - you nod and confirm his fears

“we have one tree down here. paper’s expensive. remember that.”

walks away and goes about his duties helping the firelights and though you suspect he might be upset, he did take the picture with him

feels so guilty about his reaction he almost sacks himself into a wall as he rides his hover board

later that night he apologises and makes a show of sticking the picture on his bedroom wall (in the corner he can barely see of course)

she’s been in prison and seen some interesting tattoos but this takes the cake

spends a good ten minutes staring at it whilst rubbing her chin as if that’s gonna make it look better

asks you if this was the rough draft

she’s smooth though so she basically tells you she hates it but in a way that you don’t even realise - you’re too busy being seduced to notice

“i love how wild your imagination is babe 😍”

vi keeps the picture and shows jinx; needless to say, this portrait becomes famous

kids all through the lanes have a challenge where they find all the weird faces jinx spray painted everywhere

vi pretends to act dumb as if she doesn’t know how jinx got ahold of them but you both know what happened LMAO

Caitlyn

she laughs in your face

she probably just had an argument with her mum over being an enforcer so she really needed this to lighten her spirits

teases you over it but accepts it gracefully because she’s a kiramman and those manners have been engrained into her

keeps it in her room as a joke and everything’s seemingly ok

except she can’t stop looking at it

and then looking at her reflection in the mirror

starts to question reality because she knows there’s no way she looks like that but if so, why would you draw it in the first place 😭

then she enters the mad stage and she confronts you about this thing called negging she discovered

it’s a loooooong night but don’t worry it ends in lots of laughter and giggles

she understands it wasn’t serious and was just projecting her stress onto the picture

but then this starts a new tradition where you two draw daily doodles of each other; sometimes with stupid faces, other times as animals, whatever you two are feeling really

Mel

the woman was too stunned to speak

no, she’s literally speechless for a good minute or two as you hold it out for her

she eventually takes the portrait from your hands but does it in a way where you’d think it was going to explode the second she touches it

she tries her best to smile and be graceful about it, years of etiquette training being tested but even this is a bit excessive

she finds a way to dodge actually having to tell you it looks bad but also dodges telling you that it looks good too - she’s a lot of things but she’s not a liar 😭

she’s incredibly diplomatic

the very next day she’s introducing you to an absolutely fabulous painter who just happened to make an impromptu visit but has just enough time to run a session (or multiple) with you!

how serendipitous is this!

never again will she receive a portrait from you like hyperpigmentation

Jayce

“oh wow this is for me?”

you handed this to him in the busy academy building in front of SOOO many people and now his face is red

his teeth are gritted, hand rubbing the back of his neck and if you look closely there’s even beads of sweat dripping down his forehead

you’ve got this man stressed out

takes like 20 minutes trying to tell you that he’s not too sure if this is exactly his style

internally he’s crying for help because he just wants to get out of this situation

he loves you don’t get it wrong but this has never happened to him before and it’s not like they’ve got a guidebook on this stuff

eventually admits defeat and accepts the portrait

it’s probably in the break room and although he isn’t particularly fond of it, he won’t stand for anyone saying mean things about what you made

that is until you tell him it was all a joke in the first place and you never thought he would actually accept it considering how shitty it was

yeah, he allowed everyone a ten minute free for all where they could slander the picture after that

he is gonna give you silent treatment for all of an hour before he can’t stand it anymore and he asks you not to pull pranks like that on him again with tears in his eyes 😭

Viktor

viktor is chronically ill AND chronically overworked

gonna be real, he sees the portrait and doesn’t even think anything of it

like, he’s so sleep deprived that he’s constantly squinting and so to him, it low-key looks like him

you even got his beauty mark right too! most people forget that detail!

it’s only after a good few weeks of having the picture on his bedside table and actually, finally, getting eight hours of sleep that he properly looks at the picture and

who the fuck is that

but at this point it’s too late, it’s already in a frame next to the bed you two share and there’s no way he can discretely get rid of it without you noticing

stages an accident where his cane “accidentally” happens to slip and somehow punt the picture frame right out the window with surprising accuracy

he gives you those puppy dog eyes and tells you how sad he is but that he’ll survive so don’t worry!

can’t even feel guilty about the situation because the moment the portrait is gone he stops having nightmares

Silco

another one who is speechless

if you were anyone else, he would’ve berated you so badly you would want to quit by the end of it

unfortunately you’re someone he loves so he’s stuck between a rock and a hard place

the thing is, he really does appreciate that you went through the effort of drawing a picture of him since it reminds him that perhaps his love isn’t as one-sided as he fears

so he really does want to have it framed and put up on his desk so he can stare at it whenever he misses you

the problem is that even though one of his eyes is fucked up he can still see how butt ugly the drawing is

plus the fact that if he has meetings his business associates are gonna see it and that’s gonna be a tough one to explain

rather not lose out of business because his partner decided to be picasso for a day

silco ends up compromising by having you draw a teeny tiny version he keeps in his wallet instead :3

the bigger version stays in a locked compartment of his desk drawer, he doesn’t want to risk sevika seeing it

Vander

vander does NOT care what it looks like, he loves it

you could literally scribble on a page, say “that’s you” and he’s tearing up at your thoughtfulness

it’s going on the fridge asap and it’s staying there too

he’s gonna show it to everyone with such pride in his voice

sure, he doesn’t know exactly what he’s looking at and maybe you drew his body hair a bit liberally but you made it so that’s good enough for him!

when he shows it off, most people say aww what a cute werewolf and ask how old his kid is

the light leaves their eyes when he tells them, chest puffed out, that his fully grown adult partner did it and that it’s actually a portrait of him

whether you made it as a joke or not, expect all of your friends, your friend’s friends, those friend’s friend’s friends…everyone to have seen it

Sevika

sevika tells you it’s ugly straight away <\3

rolls her eyes as she listens to you explain all the reasons why she should like the drawing

she does nawt care

wants to act unbothered but deep down she’s a bit insulted

however she doesn’t like sein you upset so she kisses you to distract you from the fact she hates the drawing

sevika is an incredibly considerate partner so now she knows you like art, she takes it upon herself to buy colouring books and art journals that you two can fill out together

this is how you find out she’s a god at drawing and you find it sweet how she takes you under her wing

if something’s bad she’ll tell you but it will always be constructive criticism and before you know it your portraits actually look decent

she’s smug knowing she helped you get to that point

little do you know she kept your abhorrent portrait of her and she looks at it every so often to see how far you’ve come

she’s a softie deep down

AU!mylo

he says he likes it but that’s just because he wants to hit

also is a bit pretentious so you could hand him a really bad painting and he’ll try and act like he “gets it” even if there’s nothing to get 😭

this WILL make him doubt his looks constantly

he’s confident for sure, more than he should be at times, but now he’s got that image in the back of his head

aura down and now he’s even WORSE at flirting god save this man

will go around asking random people if he looks like the guy in the portrait because he’s not going down without a fight

he needs to beat the allegations one way or another‼️

AU!claggor

genuinely too nice to decline it or say it looks bad

doesn’t know what exactly it’s meant to be even though you already said it’s a portrait of him

too focused on his plants to worry about it too much, it’s just something that makes him chuckle every now and then

he will conduct a mini interview on why you made it look the way it did

he looks all serious as he nods at your answers

deep down he just wants to understand how your brain works

masterlist

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michelle-is-writing · 1 year ago

Text

Christmas, Dr. Gregory House

Word count: 1.8k~

Warnings: mention of sex, House being House

"It's a marshmallow world in the winter," I sing, stringing lights on my apartment's Christmas tree. "When the snow comes to cover the ground," I sing the next verse of Brenda Lee's song before turning toward Greg with a smile. Sitting on the couch, the salt and pepper haired man sips at a small glass of eggnog (with a shot of whiskey in it, no less) while staring at the tree with a bored look on his face. Even when he sees my smile, he still remains there with a frown.

"Greg," I state his name, his blue eyes flickering up to mine. Seeing that I have his attention, I smile. "Come help me set up the tree."

"Why? So we can just take it down two weeks later?" He asks, making me sigh, my smile now a frown to match his. I love Greg, but I absolutely hate his pessimistic views - and with it being the week of Christmas, I will not let his negative opinions ruin anything.

"Fine," I say to him, placing the string of lights down beside me. "If you don't want to do that, then do something else for me," He raises an eyebrow in question at me, waiting for me to finish. "Come dance with me."

All of a sudden, he breaks into a dry laugh before stopping all of a sudden with his usual frown. "Have you forgotten?" He asks me, holding his hands over his crippled leg. “Crippled, if you haven’t noticed.”

Rolling my eyes with a smirk, I nod at him. "How could I forget?" I ask him, "There isn't a moment that goes by that you don't use it to your advantage," with that, I let out a fake thoughtful sigh. "And there isn't a moment that goes by where I don't say 'no' to you on getting on top."

At my response, he tilts his head sideways while staring at me with squinted eyes like a child would if you teased them. At his behavior change, I smile once again before walking over to him by the couch. Serves him right for being a smart ass all the time, and finally, I said something he had no clap-back to.

"I don't want to break dance or anything like that," I tell him, taking his rough and big hands into my own smaller ones. "I just want to slow dance with you."

For once, he slowly smiles up at me before standing up with a little help from me. "Okay," He says, stumbling a bit as he tries to stand up straight without his cane. "We'll dance - but if I fall, I'm taking you down with me."

Giggling at him, I nod and kiss his lips for a short second before we wrap our arms around each other and start slow dancing. The next Brenda Lee song that comes on is a slower and sweeter song that I enjoy a lot. Greg on the other hand doesn't really care for anything Christmas, so he could give two thoughts less.

"Rockin' around the Christmas Tree at a Christmas party hop," I sing in a light voice, watching as Greg continues to smile and stare at me. "Mistletoe hung where you can see, every couple tried to st-" I continue on, until abruptly being cut off by Greg's lips on mine. We continue to kiss each other for a few seconds until pulling away, a smirk resting on Greg's face.

"What was that for?" I ask him with a shocked grin. Still smirking, Greg just looks above him with me following his gaze, a small green piece of berry filled fern hanging above us. I don't remember putting that up there...

"I thought it would be useful," Greg states as we both look back at each other. "Turns out this cripple can do a few things for his woman," He notes, matter-of-factly.

Smirking back at him, I shake my head in comical disbelief. "Out of all of these Christmas decorations, you put up mistletoe?" I ask him, receiving a shrug back.

"I like this tradition better than the rest," Greg confesses, still gently swaying us. "Besides," he leans in close, his lips close to my cheek. "It benefits us both."

In response, I can't help but slap his shoulder with a giggle. "You perv," I chide, moving to rest my hands on his shoulders while his linger on my waist. "How long has that been up there?"

"I put it up this morning," He answers with a gentle tone just before we both fall into a comfortable silence. Did I expect Greg to do anything festive during these happy times? Absolutely not. But was I really all that surprised in finding mistletoe that just so happens to be festive? Kind of. Being a little bit of a narcissist, Greg only put that up because he could use the excuse that it was Christmas themed instead of the actual reason being that he just wanted to kiss me without showing spontaneous romance - a possible weakness to him.

As we dance with each other, I quickly notice the usual bags underneath his eyes are slowly fading away and the blueness of his irises have turned more lively with brightness lively in them. In the short amount of time of being away from work, Greg is starting to look a bit younger than he actually is. Although, I do think this is due to him being away from the stressful environment that is his work. And to think, he actually took these days off for me; maybe he isn't such a narcissist after all...

During my thinking, Greg has managed to move us over near the couch while we were dancing, only to trip and cause us both to fall over on the soft cushions. Of course, he did this on purpose. Scrap my earlier thought - he's definitely a narcissist.

"Oops," He says sarcastically, "I fell," Greg points out, staring up at me with a small smirk beginning to take over his lips once more.

At his goofiness, I roll my eyes at him and lightly pat his chest a few times before moving to get up. However, when I go to move over him, Greg quickly catches me in his arms and pulls me back down to his chest, holding me close to him as if he wants me to stay where I am.

"No, no, just stay here, please," He begs, his voice resuming its gentle tone from earlier. Nonetheless, it takes me by surprise. I would have never expected Greg to say that. As I mentioned before, he'll use any excuse he can find to make it seem like he's not being romantic or sweet.

"Okay," I tell him, my eyebrows furrowed in slight confusion as I nuzzle my head further into his chest to become a bit more relaxed in his embrace. "Are you comfortable?" I ask, moving my leg away from his bad one.

"The most I'll ever be," He answers me, his hand smoothing down my hair. "Have I ever told you how great it is to lie with you?" He questions me, making me roll my eyes once again.

"Are you talking about when we’re having sex or when we do this?" I ask for clarification, making him chuckle.

"I mean like this," He answers as if it were the most obvious answer in the world. "Then again, I do enjoy both situations, but I'm talking about right now," I can't help but smile as my cheeks heat up a little in response to his words, a sigh soon falling from his lips. "I've been married before and had a few girlfriends, but nothing with them could ever compare to how I feel with you. You just make me feel the best I have felt in a while," He further admits, his voice still soft and quiet with his confession.

Sighing sweetly, I shake my head against the soft material of his grey jumper before speaking. "I bet you've told all your women that," I half-joke, quickly receiving an answer back.

"No, actually, I haven't," Greg retorts, making me look up at him with furrowed eyebrows. Bright blue eyes look back at me with no emotion, yet at the same time, pure honesty. "I haven't told any other women this because it wouldn't be true, and well, I wouldn't care if they heard me say it or not," Sitting us up a bit, Greg places his hand on my cheek in a sensual and meaningful way.

"(Y/n), I love you," He confesses, his voice never wavering or cracking up. In response to his words, my eyes slightly widen as I feel my whole body become tense. "And I know I may not be the most expressive guy when it comes to my emotions, but believe me when I tell you that you have made me a better man," He adds on, his thumb now beginning to softly run over my cheek.

"Or, at least, I think I have," Greg adds, giving a soft shrug. "Ultimately, it’s you and the guys at work that would see it, so you might have to ask them just to be sure," his words make me roll my eyes that are currently tearing up, but I can't resist my smile at the same time. Once again, Greg can't let it be known that he can be spontaneously romantic at times. "They'd probably tell you I'm still an ass, but I think-"

Before he can say anymore, I move forward and press my lips to his in a sweet kiss. Of course, he kisses back instantly, but not before he smiles as well. Once we pull apart, I stare down at him breathlessly before speaking. "I love you too, Greg," I tell him, the four words I have been dreaming about telling him falling freely from my lips. "I have for a long time, but I was... I was too scared to say it."

Greg then smiles back at me and tilts his head to the side as he moves his arms down to my waist and holds my body closer to his. "Well," he says, searching his mind for a sarcastic answer. A few seconds pass until he sighs and looks back at me with an even bigger smile. "Here’s your Merry Christmas," He chimes, jokingly mocking me.

Grinning at him, I shake my head before he moves forward and reattaches our lips once more, the tune of Christmas carols playing behind us as we kiss. Maybe Greg won't be so pessimistic about Christmas anymore. I mean... we can only pray and hope so. Nonetheless, I guess it really is a Merry Christmas to me.

#gregory house x reader #dr gregory house #dr gregory house imagine #gregory house imagines #dr gregory house x reader #gregory house #house imagines #house imagine #house x reader #house fanfiction #greg house #greg house imagine #greg house imagines #greg house x reader

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2hightocare · 1 year ago

Text

WHAT YOU NEED ✷

Synopsis: Jungkook and you try getting into the Christmas spirit, but you end up getting fucked up against the kitchen counter.

Pairing: Jungkook x f!reader

Genre: established relationship au!

Warnings: smut, size kink, light spanking, squirting, creampie, unprotected sex (don’t b dumb nd wear condom.) fluff, cussing, Jungkook has a dirty mouth. a kms joke, hair pulling and choking

Word count: 2.3k

A/n: let’s not sayyyy.. when i say i was giggling and kicking my feet i am not fucking lying! (Jk had me on a chokehold istg😒) they flagged my shit… um

Is it barely November 1st? Yes.

Are you putting the Christmas tree up already? Fuck yeah.

Jungkook would clown you for your love for Christmas, and honestly, you didn't care because you loved everything about it. The decorations, the new flavored coffee menu’s, the gifts underneath the tree, and the cold. You loved wearing beanies, scarves, and thick hoodies. Something about this holiday takes you back to your childhood—the way you would gather with your siblings and parents in the kitchen, making sugar cookies to put under the tree for Santa.

Were you heartbroken when your parents told you they were Santa? Yes. You felt betrayed after they lied to you for thirteen years of your life. When you shared your story with Jungkook, he burst out laughing, sharing that he found out at age nine after catching his parents in the act, making you want to cry for him.

Now here you both were at 10:40 pm assembling the Christmas tree. Jungkook's mom gifted you both, which is much bigger than yours from last year.

“Oh my fuck—this is too big, baby." Jungkook admires the height of the tree with his hands rested on both sides of his hips. Your excitement rises at how many possible ways you both could decorate it.

"Well, I can tell you hate it,” your boyfriend jokes as his hands wrap around your bare waist from behind. “Your hands are cold,” you flinch. Your hands wrap around his, trying to pass him your warmth.

“And if we decorate it with tiny dicks?” You crack your neck upward to see his reaction. “I mean, go for it, baby."

You swat his chest as he burst into a fit of laughter. “You swear you’re so funny, huh?” You look at him with a serious face, your mouth twitching from trying to hold in the big smile that wants to come out.

Jungkook just shakes his head. “Wanna decorate today with last year's decorations, or we can wait till tomorrow and buy new ones, and instead we can bake Christmas cookies?” He wiggles his eyebrows at you.

Anyone in their right mind would be thinking we’re crazy for already baking Christmas cookies when December is in a whole month. But you both didn’t care.

…

“We should’ve gotten pre-made cookie dough.” Your eyes look around at the marble counter in front of you, filled with all the ingredients your mother-in-law told you to use. “On god.” Jungkook stands beside you. “You know what? Let me call my mom. We need a tutorial, I'm afraid.” You giggle as he pulls out his phone, opening up FaceTime.

The phone rings three times before the camera fills up with your mother-in-law smiling sweetly. "Hi, my babies!” She says first, Your face lights up. “Hi,” you wave a hand to the camera. “Hi mom!”

“You guys look adorable,” she motions to your guys matching pink hello kitty pajamas. “Y/n bought them; I had no choice,” he lied, knowing damn well he wanted to match first. “Sureee.” You rolled your eyes at him.

The call continued as Jungkook's mom gave you guys simple instructions like beating the sugar and butter with a whisk, which Jungkook took over because your hand started to hurt, and gradually adding flour to the mixture, which ended with both of you guys covered in white flour because Jungkook turned the mixer too fast. After wishing your goodbyes, you both slightly shake off the flour, and you put the dough in the refrigerator. Apparently, you have to let it be firm.

“So now we have two hours to wait. I say we fuck.” Jungkook slaps your ass, making you squeal. “You’re horny??” Your hands make their way to his hair, slightly pulling. "Hm, maybe,” he whispers into your mouth, and he gives you a slow, wet kiss. “I’m still sore from earlier." I mumble in between kisses. “Was I too rough?” His rough hands massage your ass. You shrug your shoulders in his embrace.

“Christmas movie, then?” He asks, “I’m so down."

….

“Shit takes like ass,” you say, finishing up the cookie.

Your boyfriend looks around for the long-gone cookie. “I don't know; let’s ask the audience.” He looks around for the invisible camera. “Bitch!” You swat his arm, and he burst out laughing, holding on to his stomach.

“You literally ate that shit up.” His head is thrown back, and the most beautiful laugh roars out of him. “I will kill myself genuinely.” You chuckle while trying another cookie without the frosting you guys tried making from a tutorial on Google.

“The frosting is ass, cause this is a bomb,” you stuff your mouth with the remaining of the cookie humming at the taste. “Am I weird cause I fuck with the frosting?" He dips his pinky nto the bowl where the white frosting is before sucking it off. “Never mind actual shit." His nose scrunches in disgust, and his tongue sticks out, making you giggle.

"No, seriously, why is it so bad?” Jungkook takes a sip of the milk he had served not so long ago. “I have no clue, baby, but the sugar cookie itself slaps." You take your half eaten cookie up to your boyfriend's mouth and say, "Open, ahh." He immediately follows commands and opens before you shove his mouth with the golden cookie. “Mhm,” Jungkook's face scrunches as he bobs his head up and down, savoring the heart-shaped cookie.

“Probably the best cookie I had in a while, not gonna lie,” he states, taking a bite of the gingerman's head.

“Do we have cinnamon?” You make your way to the drawer where you keep all the spices. “ Found it,” you make your way back to the cookie before sprinkling some on your and Jungkook's cookies before taking a huge bite. “Oh my fuck," you moan.

"Oh, my fuck indeed.” Jungkook shoves the remaining cookie into his mouth, moaning at how it melted in his mouth. "Think, I just saw stars.” You say this while he side-eyes you. “Haha no.” He says that before picking you up on the counter, he settles in between your legs.

“Horny still?” You ask again, "Yes, very, I’ll be a gentle promise.” He leaves open-mouth kisses on your neck before slowly sucking.

“No marks.” You moan, your fingers slightly tugging on his hair and making him groan. “Scarf season, princess.” He looks up with a smirk on his face, then continues his actions, sucking and licking your soft spot. You bite your lip, trying to be quiet. Jungkook slowly grinds into your clothed pussy causing you to slip out a throaty moan. “Fuck—“ you throw your head back, your legs caging him closer to where you most need him. “I need you to lose the clothes and fuck me.” Jungkook chuckles at your demanding tone.

“Yeah? Want my cock already?” His hands rub on your thighs. You nod your head, looking down at the imprint of his now-hard cock. You reach for it, but Jungkook slaps your hand away, making you pout. “Patience princess,” Jungkook's hands tug on the band of your pajamas, pulling them down and taking your underwear along with it.

You squeal as your bare ass feels the cold counter top, and your boyfriend laughs before throwing the clothes somewhere on the ground.

Your pussy clenches over nothing, and you go to press your thighs together to relieve some of the tension, only for Jungkook to hold them wide open. He pulls his hard cock out of his pants, giving himself two pumps before slapping it on your wet center. Your gaze fixated on his dick on your pussy, your lips between your teeth moaning slightly when your boyfriend gives it another slap with his dick.

“So wet for me, baby,” he says, giving it another slap. "C'mere," Jungkook's picks you off the counter from your arms, “bend over. ” He orders.

You quickly follow his command, your juices dripping down your legs from how wet you were already. Jungkook spreads open your legs some more before making his way in between them, giving your ass a slap. “Fuck—“ you clench your thighs together as he soothes the red mark he just left. “Fuck, when are you going to let me fuck this ass.” Your boyfriend asks you, giving you another spank, making you squeak.

“Never,” you moan, making him chuckle under his breath. “Worth the try.” He jokes before sinking down into you, both moaning at the feeling. You felt so full. Jungkook is so big, stretching your pussy deliciously. “So big shit," you moan, your cheek pressed against the counter as he fills you up to the hilt. “You can take it, baby,” Jungkook says between gritted teeth. He felt you clenching around him, having him on the verge of coming right there in an instant.

“Always so good for me, baby. Want me to fuck you so good, huh?” He whispers into your ear, and you clench around him, earning you another spank, ripping a loud moan out of you. “Fuck me," you stutter over the pleasure your lower belly is feeling. “That’s what I like to hear, baby,” Jungkook says before pulling his cock out, just leaving the tip in before slamming into you. Your mouth hangs open as he repeats the movements over and over again. “Fuck just like that,” you grip to the edge of the counter, your eyes close immediately, as his rough hands compare to your smooth skin, hold tightly to the sides of your hips, pounding into you from behind.

“This cunt is mine, right?” Jungkook groans, sliding his cock in and out of your walls. You could only reply with a loud moan. But that’s not enough for Jungkook; your boyfriend wraps his hand around your hair, pulling you upward and arching your back in the process. “Use your words, princess.” He orders in your ear, his movements never halting.

"Fuck—your pussy! Only yours,” you spit out whatever words you could make a sentence out of. “Fucking you dumb, huh?” He lets go of your hair and moves his hand around your neck, adorning it like a necklace and applying some pressure. "Mhmm,” you moan, trying to open your eyes but shutting close after Jungkook slams into you again.

The room fills with the wet clapping sounds, groans, and moans that keep spilling out of your guys mouths. Your fingers find your sensitive clit, applying pressure and drawing small circles. "Fuck—I'm gonna come!” Your legs shake beneath Jungkook, and his arm wraps around your waist in case your legs give out on you.

“Yeah baby? Gonna come for me?” He slaps your hand away from your clit replacing it with his. Your back arches against him, and his cock continues hitting your g-spot repeatedly, sending you over the edge.

“Oh fuc—“ Your words are cut short when the pleasure in your belly finally snaps, and Jungkook's fingers furiously move on your pussy, making you scream into your hand. Wetness pools on your feet, dripping down your legs. “Fuck so hot when you squirt,” Jungkook continues fucking you through your orgasm, the overstimulation has you shaking underneath him. “Too much fu-fuck,” you head drops to the counter. You clench, sending Jungkook over the edge.

“Coming,” your boyfriend's head drops to your shoulder, his movements becoming sloppy, springs of cum shooting inside you, moaning at the feeling.

His movements come to a halt, his mind foggy, his cock throbbing when he pulls out, making you whine, feeling empty.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck,” Jungkook mutters under his breath as he sees his cum dripping out of your hole. Without a second thought, he shoves it back in with his index finger. “Aw shit,” you moan at the sensitivity.

He chuckles, kissing your shoulder blade. “You were so good for me, baby.” He leaves open-mouthed kisses all over your back, breathing heavily. You are trying to catch your breath, and your legs feel like jelly, not being able to move from your current position.

“Mhm,” you hum softly, your eyes closing. "Baby, don’t fall asleep on me,” Jungkook smiles at you, picking you up in bridal style, making you to squeal.

"How the fuck can you be so cute after just getting railed?” Your boyfriend moves your hair out of your face as you try to snuggle into his chest. “You play too much,” you mumble.

Jungkook lays you down on the bed before disappearing into your guys bathroom; a couple minutes later, coming out changed and with a warm rag in hand, “here, baby open,” he coos motioning to your legs. You do as he says. He slowly cleans and wipes your center, making you moan from oversensitivity. “Almost done,” he says before giving a last swipe and throwing the rag somewhere in the room.

“Do you want a pill, baby?” He asks against your cheek, to which you nod. He stands up, walking to your side of the closet and getting you something comfy to wear. “Here. Be right back.” Jungkook leaves the clothes next to you and leaves the room.

As you change into your clothes, Jungkook waltz’s in with an ibuprofen and a glass of water on his other hand. “Here,” he says, waiting for you to poke your head out of his hoodie before handing you the small pill.

You swallow the pill without any complaints before dropping down on the bed. “So tired.” Your eyes close before you even hit the pillow, making him chuckle. “Worn you out, huh?” He teases before dropping beside you, pulling the covers over both of you. You immediately cuddle up to his side, feeding off the warmth he radiates. Your leg is over his torso, and your hand is on his chest.

“I love you, princess.” He whispers into your hair, leaving a small kiss on your forehead. “I love you; now let’s go, mimi’s." You kiss his clothed chest, hoping he can still feel the kiss.

#bts fanfic #bts jungkook #fluff #jjk #jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jjk smut #smut #bts smut #established relationship #jjk x reader #bangtan #drabble

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harrysxcarolina · 2 months ago

Text

casually fallin’

b. eilish

warnings: wlw, smut, cussing, under age alcohol consumption, I think that’s it but let me know if there is more

wc: 7.8k

New Years Eve

december 31st, 2020

freshman year

The air was crisp. The moonlight sparkling against the still snow emphasizing the quietness in the air. Breathing in deeply, the cold air tickling your skin, a shiver runs down your spine. Gripping the balcony banister welcoming the cold.

“Please don’t stay out there too long, wouldn’t want you catching a cold.” You hear through the cracked sliding door. Chuckling to yourself you take one last look at the moon before making your way back into the warm room.

“I was just taking in the view. No need to worry.” You respond. Catching your first glance at your best friend definitely not missing her outfit choice of the night. A tight form fitting dress that stopped mid thigh. A slight slit on the right side. Fixating on her curves perfectly. You nod in approval.

“Yeah well you’ve taken in the view every night since the night we first got here. When are you actually gonna go out and partake in the activities made for the view?” Chelsea states, chuckling as she throws her makeup brush in your direction.

“You know what. At least I showed up. You know I hate any type of outdoor activity that involves snow.” You retorted, picking up the brush and placing it down on the bed next to her.

“Hey I’m just impressed you actually left the room during this trip. I guess we have Billie to thank for that.” She jokes as she gives you a suggestive look. A smirk working its way across her face.

“Oh please. What does she have to do with this?” You state as you feel the slight pull in your core at the mere mention of her name. Your cheeks heat up at the memory of the last couple days you’ve spent with Billie that was planned specifically for skiing. Yet the both of you couldn’t be bothered as you both preferred the heat of the fireplace. The warm hot chocolate with mini marshmallows. The coziness of the lodge as it was decorated for the holidays. The lights off the Christmas tree twinkling just right as you sit on the floor next to the fireplace trying to teach her how to play chess.

The tea you would eavesdrop on from the other guest as you both curled up on the leather couches sharing a sugar cookie Billie bought from the hot cocoa stand in the lounge. You both lose yourselves in laughter at some of the gossip you’ve witnessed. You didn’t realize how much time you’ve spent with her. Getting up and making your way to your side of the room you begin to rummage through your bag. Actively trying to avoid the sharp stare coming across the room like daggers from your best friend.

“You couldn’t be more oblivious could you?” Chelsea questions as she shoots up from her spot on the bed and plops down onto yours. “You do realize she gives you the ‘please fuck me’ eyes anytime you guys are in the same room.” She whispers as she makes herself comfortable on the bed.

Eyes growing wide you glance up finally making eye contact. “Oh my god. She definitely does not. Plus we aren’t even sure if she like girls. She’s only ever been with guys.” You state as you hold up a dress for her opinion.

Shaking her head, gently pushing you out of the way she begins her own search through your stash of clothes. “That you know of! All that matters is who her attention is on. News flash. It’s you. It’s always you. The only people who don’t see it are you two. How cliche. Almost like it was written straight from a rom-com.” She finishes with a scoff as she holds up a black dress that reaches mid thigh. “This is it.”

Rolling my eyes, and grabbing the dress. “We are just friends, and even if you don’t believe that I’m not out. Only you know, remember? As far as we know, neither is she. She has given no indication that she wants anything more anyways. Everything has been platonic between us.” Making my way to the bathroom groaning under my breath trying to rid the thoughts of the situation and closing the door slightly.

“You’ve hung out every single day we’ve been on this trip. I heard her telling Ava that the only reason she came on this trip was to talk to you. She chose this school trip over going home to see her family for the holidays. That has to mean something. You can’t tell me otherwise. I think tonight might be the night love bug.” Chelsea states, fully standing her ground. “You totally like her though, right?” She questions causing you to pause your undressing and catch your own reflection in the mirror. You’re quiet for a moment. Processing her words.

You totally like her though, right?

Peaking your head out from the bathroom. Catching eye contact we stay silent.

”You already know that I-“

“No. Don’t start that bullshit. It’s simple. Do. You. Like. Her?” She questions again.

Your bottom lip finding its way between your teeth. Nodding you feel your cheeks heat up for the second time that night.

Chelsea’s contagious laugh fills the room. She falls back onto the bed kicking her feet.

“I fucking knew it bitch.” She yells excitedly. Jumping off the bed and running over to you. Definitely not caring that you are half dressed in the dress that she picked out for tonight.

“What better way than to end the year than to confess your feelings for her?” She asks as she wraps her arms around your shoulders pulling you in close. Her cheek pressed up against yours as you both stared at each other through the mirror. You knew you’d have to come clean eventually. You couldn’t deny the feelings that have started to slowly brew ever since the two of you have begun hanging out. Way before the trip. Your bottom lip once again finds its home between your teeth as you feel the flight of a million butterflies in the pit of your belly.

“Breathe.” She whispers in your ear as the smirk spreads across her face. Her fingers danced across your shoulders as you let out the breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

“I’m scared.” You whisper your eyes catching again through the glass.

“We always are.” She states as she lays her head against your shoulder. “You’ll be okay. I know it.”

***

Your grip on Chelsea's hand gets tighter as you both make your way through the sea of people. The smell of sweat and smoke fill the air as the room vibrates from the bass of the speakers. The loud music radiating through the crowd as they all get hyped up for the beat drop. Smirking to yourself you glance around taking in the core memory.

You feel yourself get pulled slightly to the right as you blindly follow Chelsea’s lead. Taking a breath of relief as you see a table of your friends sitting in the back corner of the conference room, the staff has turned the big room into a celebration for the end of the year. The lights decorating the dance floor. The smoke that filters through the air from the fog machine that sat right below the DJ booth. The atmosphere was electric as everyone was ready to start off the new year with a bang.

The room was warm with different bodies as they all danced and mingled together. The rhythm of the music and sways of bodies made butterflies erupt in the pit of your stomach. You weren’t one for parties but tonight’s vibe just hit you differently. Unsure of what the night will unfold. Slightly scared, and definitely nervous you couldn’t wait for it to begin.

Sliding into an open chair at the table you say your hellos to your friends already there. Glancing over at Chelsea you both can’t help but laugh at how chaotic that walkthrough felt. Your eyes make work scanning the room looking for one person in particular.

“Don’t worry, she will be here.” Chelsea half yells in your ear over the music. Smirking and playfully swatting her away you try and hide your face in your hand as you reach for a flute of champagne. Taking a big gulp you lean back in the chair as you begin your people watching as Chelsea sits comfortably beside you chit chatting with a girl you believe you had in your Chem class.

“Well look what the cat drug in. We thought you were beginning to think you were too cool to party with us.” Amanda, the girl Chelsea was speaking with, states as Billie makes her way to the table we were all at. A few of her other friends are close behind. She quickly smirks with a shrug of her shoulders.

“Well I’m here now bitches!” She jokes as she bounces her way into the group.

Making her way around the table greeting each person. Saving you for last.

Smirking down at you you catch her eyes quickly glancing you up and down before she quickly grabs an empty chair and pulls it up beside you. Your knees are just inches apart. You swear you could feel the heat radiating off her body as her dark locks cascaded down her back. Leaning back with a slight tilt of her hips, a few pieces fall to frame her face, she adjusts her pants. It was your turn to glance at her as you take your time working your way up her body. Having no shame. Chelsea was right. Tonight was the night. You were going to confess your feelings. You just had to wait for the right time.

Taking in every detail from the way she matched her socks to the color of her shoelaces to how the jersey she was wearing was slightly cut just low enough that it left a gap big enough to see the black lace trim along her bra any time she would fidget in her seat. Which she has done quite a bit since sitting down just a mere few moments ago. Your mouth watering at the sight. Biting your lip to hold back the whimper that was so desperately trying to escape.

“Hey you,” she states as she leans forward searching for your eyes as a smile spreads across her face. Bashfulness spreads through you as you quickly glance down blushing once again, but this time it claims the entirety of your body and not just your cheeks.

“Hi.” You whisper smiling up at her through your laces.

“Do you maybe wanna get out of here for a few?” She asks as you feel her fingertips tease your exposed skin. Softly leaving her trace around your knee.

Nodding your head you watch her smile grow bigger as she slides her chair back and reaches her hand out towards you. Smirking, you grab her hand and stand up. Leaning over you quickly inform Chelsea of your absence before you feel Billie intertwine her fingers with yours and pull you away.

Chelsea throws you an encouraging smile as she waves you goodbye.

Shaking your head, turning your attention to the heartbeat that is taking over your intertwined fingers as Billie looks back at you with a twinkle of mischief in her eyes. You both pull yourselves closer as the swarm of bodies invade your bubble. Body parts everywhere as you fight your way through. Her body brushes up against yours as your breath hitches. Her hand on your lower back.

“Stay close, mamas. Don’t wanna lose you in this crowd.” She yells into your ear as she pulls you tighter against her as she turns and begins to lead you through the crowd. Her grip on you tightens, finally getting you both through the tight crowd.

Not sure where exactly she is leading you too but you enjoy the tingles at the tips of your fingers caused by the weight of her hand in yours. “Is this okay?” Billie softly asks as she slows her steps and looks over her shoulder at you. Glancing around the empty lodge you nod your head as you lead her to one of the empty couches you’ve grown custom to next to the fireplace. Welcoming the warmth.

“I’m sorry that I drug you away from the party.” Billie whispers as she takes her seat next to you on the couch playing with the silver rings decorating her fingers. Looking over at her without saying a word you carefully tuck a piece of her fallen hair behind her ear. Your fingertips gently brushing against her cheek. Glancing up at you, the realization of what you just did causes your cheeks to get hotter than they ever have before.

“You didn’t drag me anywhere. I followed..” I wanted to. You state as you quickly tuck your hands in your lap looking anywhere other than into her piercing blue eyes. You felt her stare linger as her eyes trace every curve and freckle on your face. Her body scooting just slightly closer to yours. Your legs now fully pressed against each other as her hand slithers its way along the back of the couch. You welcome the heat from her body and the fireplace as you sink further into her and the couch.

You both sit comfortably in silence taking in the last few moments of the year. The lights twinkling off the tree. The soft Christmas carols playing from the radio behind the check-in desk. The hum of excitement leaking out of the conference hall as you hear the five minute warning before the New Year begins. You feel Billie’s fingertips play with the thin strap from your dress. Her fingers tracing up and down your skin causing goosebumps to rise a shiver across your body.

“You know me and my family do this thing every New Year’s Eve where we go around and we all say one wish that we want to receive in the next year. It’s a silly tradition, but my mom makes us do it every year.” You state as you lean towards Billie. Shuffling around to where you both are now face to face. Only inches apart. Your breath catches. Not realizing how close the two of you are now.

Her breath tickles the tip of your nose as she reaches up only to stop herself half way. Breathing deeply you glance up catching her eyes. Her cheeks are flushed. Pieces of hair loosely falling to frame her face. Her bottom lip caught between her teeth. The black eyeliner painted on her underline made her icy blue eyes pop even more. You’d be lying if you didn’t feel the tension in the air. You’ve thought about this moment so many times before. Never actually believing it would happen.

“What’s your wish?’ She breathes as you notice her chains dancing around her neck as she slowly leans forward. Her minty breath invades your senses as her lips just barely brushes yours. If you were to lean in just a smidge your lips would be locked. You hope you aren’t reading the signs wrong. Taking one last breath there’s no turning back now.

“You,” you whisper.

It’s as if time stopped. Your eyes meet one final time. You hear the countdown begin.

10, 9, 8…

You hear her breath catch as her eyes search yours for any hint of dishonesty.

7, 6, 5…

She isn’t going to find any as this time she doesn’t stop her hand from entangling itself into your hair.

4, 3, 2…

Leaning up onto your knees so you are slightly towering over her, your hands tangle themselves into the collar of her jersey pulling her closer as you finally crash your lips against hers.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!

The loud echo of fireworks and the yells of excitement are heard all throughout the lodge, but the only thing you can focus on is the feeling of Billie's lips battling against yours as her fingers tangle deeper into your hair falling backwards onto the couch pulling you with her. Your tongue gently traces her bottom lip not missing the way her hips slightly buck up as you slide one of your hands up her side. Taking in the rise and fall of her chest as your lips continue their battle for dominance. Billie’s hands stay firm as one hand is tangled deep into your hair while the other quickly grips your hip. Heads tilting as the kiss gets deeper.

Pulling away slightly to catch your breath and to make sure that this was actually real you feel your heart beating against your chest. Refusing to open your eyes, your hand still tightly gripping Billies' side. Her chest heaving just as hard.

Her hand not giving you the chance to pull away for long before she is chasing your lips. Capturing yours quickly causing a smile to spread across your face. Her face heating up in embarrassment. The kiss lingers as your lips gently tease each other as they softly brush against one another. Slowly pulling apart for the second time that night you stay lying against her as she reaches up and finally tucks the fallen piece of hair behind your ear.

“Happy New Year, mamas” she whispers against your lips as she looks up at you with a coy smirk playing across her face.

A light hum leaves your lips as you return her smile. “Happy New Year Billie.”

“Ah there you two are. We’ve been looking for you.” Amanda screeches as she bounces her way to the sitting area. You quickly climb off Billie and try and collect yourself as you refuse to look in Billies direction. “Sorry. Just needed to step away from the craziness for a moment.” You state as you notice the hurtful sting you caused Billie by removing her hands from your body. Copying your movements she sits up and adjusts her shirt.

“Yeah, sorry. Lost track of time.” She replies standing up off the couch digging her hands deep into her pockets, her eyes not leaving you. Amanda glances between the both of you for a moment. “No worries. The group is waiting back there if you wanna come join us for shots? Heard it's the tradition here for the freshmen.” She jokes as she leads you both back to the group.

Walking back into the craziness of the party you can’t help but begin to overthink everything about the kiss. Was it simply just because it was the new year or did it hold more? Was it the excitement of kissing someone at the stroke of midnight for her? Did you take it too far? You mind wonders as your hand gently brushes up against hers as you shuffle your way through the crowd back to the table. Glancing up your eyes meet, unable to deciever the flash of emotion in Billies eyes you take a deep breath before making the executive decision to say fuck it and start the new year differently than you have before.

Grasping her hand you quickly interlace your fingers with hers not missing a step as you continue to follow Amanda. You felt her squeeze your hand and you couldn’t fight the smile that worked its way across your face. Biting your lip you steal a glance behind you at the dark haired girl who was closely following. Her eyes already on yours. Her smile matches yours as she pauses your movements. Hands still intertwined her other gripping your waist tightly pulling you flush against her. Looking up at you. Her fingers squeeze your side glancing between your eyes and swollen lips.

“Are you going to ask me what my wish is?” She asks over the loud music. People are still dancing around you as if the night was young. Your face lights up in amusement. Reaching up and gently brushing her cheek. Smirking as you not only see but feel the heat rush to her cheeks.

“What is your wish Bils?” You ask shyly, glancing down at your clasped hands gently playing with her rings. Her fingertips tilt your head back to her attention. Her bottom lip caught between her teeth.

“You. It’s always been you.” She declares her stare never faltering.

“You never said anything. I- I never knew. I thought you only saw this as a friendship.” You state as you pull her closer. Her hand sliding across your lower back not letting go of your hand. “I was scared. I wanted to make sure it wasn’t just a crush. This would be my first time- my first time with a girl.” She gulped, dropping her gaze but quickly bringing it back.

“What are you thinking about?” She asks as she searches your face.

“That I really don’t want to take shots with everybody, and that I’d much rather get out of here with you.” You say boldly not missing her lip biting smirk as she looks up at you with flirty eyes.

“Oh yeah?” Her smirk never fails as she spins you around and pulls you towards the door. Slightly running to keep up with her speed walking you couldn’t help that laugh that escaped as she zig zags you through the crowd. Praying that Amanda doesn’t spot you out as you are almost to the door.

“Uh huh not so fast love birds.” Chelsea calls out as you see her leaning up against the door frame holding three shot glasses in her hand.

“I see you took my advice friend,” She continues as you both stand there watching her as she downs one shot. Billie looks over at your questionably raising her eyebrows in interest. You smile before letting go of her hand and taking the few steps to Chelsea. Grabbing one of her shots you clink the glass against hers before downing yours. Chelsea and Billie both stare at you in shock.

“Do us both a favor and spend the night with Amanda? I’m sure Billie won’t mind would you Billie?” You ask Chelsea, glancing over your shoulder at Billie holding out the third and final shot to her. Licking her lips as she checks you out. Making her way towards you grabbing the shot glass and bringing it to her lips. Eyes never leave yours as she tilts her head back downing the shot.

“Not at all.” She responds as she sets the empty shot glass on a table nearby.

“Yeah I kind of figured when y’all ditched us earlier.” Chelsea chokes out as she pushes herself off the wall and steps between us wrapping her arms around the both of us.

“Have fun kids. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” Chelsea jokes as she looks between us one last time giving you a thumbs up as she pushes Billie towards the door. A chuckle leaves your lips as you shoo her away following close behind Billie.

She reaches her hand back for you as she heads towards the elevator. Taking a deep breath and grasping her hand.

***

You didn’t make it very far before hands began exploring bodies. Lips tangled together as you feel for the light switch inside your room. Her body pressing yours against the door as her hand grips your hip and the other on the side of your neck. Moaning out as she slides her fingers into your hair as the kiss deepens.

Giving up on the light as the hand on your hip slowly slides up your back. Gripping the zipper she begins the slow torture of working it down your spine. Back arching off the door wishing the fabric barrier was already gone and it was her hands skimming your skin. Your hands slide up her arms and tangle themselves in her hair as her lips work their way across your jaw and down your neck. Teeth grazing every so often leaving small marks.

Your breath ragged as the zipper reached its end and her finger tips found your skin.

“Fuck,” you mumble throwing your head back against the door. Her breathing catches as her lips halt on your neck.

“Tell me it’s real. I ne- I need to hear you say it.” She whispers her head falling onto your shoulder trying to slow her breathing down. Looking down and tilting her head back up, quickly moving the stray pieces of hair out of her vision, you softly peck her lips. Pushing off the door you hands gripping her cheeks holding her in place as you lead her backwards. Her lips chasing yours as she follows you blindly.

Your heart is racing. You can feel your pulse deep in your ears as Billies knees buckle against the bed. Hitting the comforter you slowly climb your way on top of her. Your legs straddling her hips towering over her. It was your turn to leave your mark as your lips work their way across her skin leaving love bites in their wake. Lips moving tantalizingly slow working your way down her neck to her collar bones. Her hands gripping and grasping at your naked back moaning at the fact that beneath your dress you are toppless.

“Is this real enough?” You ask. Your tongue tracing shapes on her warm skin. Her chest heaves, head tilted back and eyes squeezed closed. Her head nodded frantically.

“I can feel your heart beating baby.” You whimper as you move your lips to her pulse point on her neck. Sucking it sweetly causing the prettiest of moans to escape the girl below you. You feel her heart begin to beat even faster at the feel of your lips against her warm skin. The pet name driving her crazy. Her grip on you tightens, pleading you to move. To do anything to help relieve the ache building between her thighs.

Moaning in her ear at the glorious friction between your thighs.

“Please,” she begs as her back arches into you as your hand grips her hip, rotating your hips against her gloriously. Her begging echos off the walls. Holding her in place as you feel the wetness start to pool between your legs. Grinding yourself fast against her thighs. Hitting all the right places. Her hands roaming your body as her breathing gets heavier in your ear. Her soft moans and whimpers fuel you as your lips find her neck once more.

She is quick to find your lips. Her hands gripping your face as she takes your bottom lip between her teeth. Her hips buck up against you as her grip moves to your neck. Forcing you to look at her. Your bottom lip finding its way between your teeth as a whimper leaves your lips. Her tongue swipes across her lips as she looks up at you. The smile slowly grew across her face.

“You look really pretty,” you whisper shyly looking down at her softly. Your fingers reach up and trace the outline of her face. Starting from her temple, around her eyebrow, down her nose, across her lips landing on her chin. Your cheeks heat up as you watch the moonlight sparkle across her pale cheeks. Noticing the much lighter shade of blue that took over her eyes. Now noticing the cold chill in the room as a shiver runs down your spine. Glancing over you notice the small crack in the sliding door you must have forgotten to close earlier.

Slowly working your way to the end of the bed only to get stop by Billie tugging on your hand. “Where are you going?” She groans sitting up as you slide off her body and shimmy the small black dress to the floor. Her breathing stops completely as she sits there staring at you in awe. Tits out on full display, and the skimpiest black lace thong is the only thing hugging your body.

Stepping out of the dress and thong you smirk before bouncing your way across the room to the door.

“I forgot to close the curtains,” you reply, looking back at her over her shoulder as you pull the curtains shut. Her once soft blue eyes have turned icy cold as they trace every curve and line of your figure. Her teeth harshly biting down on her lip as she slowly stands up from the bed and takes the couple steps to you. Her once straight hair now tangled as it sways from her pace. Her jersey bunched up just above her waist line.

”Who said they had to be closed?” She softly asked her fingertips itch to touch your warm skin again. A gasp leaves your lips eyebrows furrow noticing her slow steps. Swinging the curtains back open as she reaches you.

“Anything you wanna- you wanna try?” You huff out as her hands find your hips pushing them back against the cold door. Her lips find your neck making hasty work. “I want to touch you.” She whispers against your ear. Her hand slowly working its way up your side not missing the goosebumps that follow her trail.

“Fucking shit Bi-“

”I want you to touch me.” She interrupts as your earlobe finds itself between her teeth. Heat consumes your body as she takes over all your senses. The cold chill of the door not helping to cool down your rising heat. “In every single way.” She finishes as her lips leave open mouth kisses up to your lips.

You take no time to find the hem of her shirt and quickly discard it off her body. Throwing it across the dark room not caring where it lands as your eyes take her in for the first time. Groaning and grasping you, pull her flush against you. Lips colliding in a tangled battle as your hands quickly unclasp her bra. Her hands make quick work to unbutton her pants and kick them down her legs. Never breaking apart as your fingers get tangled deep in her hair as her bra is soon added to the clothes collection.

Chest heaving as the kiss gets deeper. Thighs tangle together as you spin your bodies around. She hissed out as her back feels the chill air off the door. Her tongue traces your bottom lip patiently asking for permission. Denying her as you work your lips down her body. Humming softly as you hover above her breast. Looking up at her through your lashes. Her stare already following all your moves. Her chest rises and falls as your tongue gently and oh so very softly teases her nipple.

“Mmm fuck, please-“ She moans arching her back off the door trying to find contact. Gripping her hips you pin her hips right where they were. Licking your lips, taking your time as you leave open mouth kisses on her cleavage. Her moans don’t go unnoticed as you make your way to show the same attention to the other. Her head tilted back against the cold glass as her hands buried themselves deep in your hair pushing your face flush against her breast.

“Put me in your mouth. God you are killing me, pretty girl.” Billie moans out looking down at you with pleading eyes. Wasting no time your lips capture her bud and suck, lick, bite, and twist the sensitive nerve. Over and over again. Repeating your actions getting lost in the way she feels against your wet tongue. The way she sounds from your simple touch. Groaning as your continue your torture even further down.

Between the valley of her breast. Across her tummy giving special attention to the tattoo that lay permanently above her hips. Smirking against her skin as your fingertips trace her pantie line. The thin material gently tickles her skin as you slowly slide them off.

“Are you sure about this Billie?” You ask once more, laying a gentle kiss on her hip looking up at her through your lashes. Glancing down at you she releases her hold on her bottom lip as her tongue traces the pink skin.

Nodding her head yes, as her fingertips trace your jawline.

“Please,” she whispers as her hips buck up brushing against your lips. A moan leaves her lips above you as you grip her hip and lay a kiss to her mound. Your tongue diving between her lips moaning as you lap up her juices. So sweet. Fuck.

Your lips suckling her as your fingernails dig into her skin, your tongue swirling all around getting lost in the taste of her. Her hands bury themselves deep into your hair as her hips grind harder against your tongue. Her back arching off the glass door as you move your tongue to tease her clit.

Billie gasps as you lock her clit between your teeth. “Fuck, look at you kneeling beneath me, suck-fuck-sucking my fucking clit. Shit-right there baby,” She moans as she pushes your face deeper into her cunt. Grinding her hips the way she wants against your face as her free hand reaches up and grasps her tit. Squeezing and twisting her nipple. You groan against her wet heat as your tongue glides between her slit teasing her warm hole.

”God Bils you taste so fucking good,” You moan as you lick your lips grinning up at her. Her breathing ragged as her chest heaved up and down. Her eyes never leave you as you glide your fingers through her wetness. Spreading her wetness all around her clit, kneeling up and tracing your lips across her hip bone. Looking up at her as your teeth graze her skin, your fingers working their way lower into her core.

Her hips buck off the door as your fingertips tease her hole. The tip of your middle finger flirting with her as you leave open mouth kisses across her skin. Humming against her skin, “What do you want baby?” You ask softly as you pin her hips back against the cold door. You notice the small condensation building from the heat of her body and the chilly air seeping in.

“Your fingers. Please,” she whines, fighting your grip on her hip desperately wanting to feel your touch deeper. Smirking you peck her hip once more, “So polite Bils-” you hum as you thrust two fingers into her pussy. Groaning as your grip tightens against her hips aiding in holding her up as she gets lost in the feeling of you between her walls. Your fingers thrusting and rubbing her in all the right places as you twist your wrist. Your lips find their way back to her clit as you swivel your warm buds against her. Flicking, biting, and sucking her as your fingers get deeper searching for her sweet spot. Her moans get louder as her hands grip your head and her hips rock back and forth against you.

“Holy shit, yes right there. Please, don’t stop.” Billie moans as you repeatedly hit that spongy spot that’s driving her crazy. Thrusting your fingers harder against her as you slide your tongue down between her folds missing the taste of her. Your nose rubbing her clit perfectly as her hips rotate even faster.

“Please, please, please,” She whines. “Im so fucking close pretty. Please don’t stop,” she begs as you feel her clench around your fingers. She can feel your smirk against her core as the heat building deep in her belly explodes and consumes her entire body. Her legs shaking as she pulls your face closer, wanting you to take in every drop she has to offer you. Her body sliding down the door as her body shakes against you. Your thumb rubbing circles against her clit helping her ride out her high on your fingers. Glancing up at her you can’t help but marvel at the sight of her.

Lips swollen and red from the constant pressure of her teeth. Her cheeks are rosy pink. Hair tangled and pinned down from sweat. Her chest heaves as her eyes meet yours. A small smirk works its way across her cheeks as she slides the rest of the way down to the carpeted floor. Her hands working their way from your hair to your cheek as her thumb traces your bottom lip.

A blush creeps to your cheeks as her eyes work from your gaze to your lips back up again. Brushing a piece of hair behind your ear you lean your head into her hand. Trying to fight your smile as you gently move her thigh sliding your fingers out. Her hand grips your wrist as your fingers graze her clit. Your eyes meet as she lifts your hands up. You watch her as she lifts your cum covered fingers to her lips. Groaning as she cleans your fingers with her tongue. Making sure to take every last drop before she drops your hand and grips your neck. Pulling you flush against her as her lips crash against yours. Tasting her on her tongue as she slides her tongue against yours in a passionate kiss.

Your legs wrapping around her hips as her hands grip your thighs. Your tongues battle for dominance as your heads tilt, deepening the kiss. Your hands work their way from her neck to her breast. Missing the feel of her under your fingers. Gripping and twisting her nipples as your teeth grip her bottom lip. Biting and pulling it as her back arches up into your touch. Your fingers still slightly wet from being between her lips. Your lips work their way down her jaw to her neck. Leaving a trail of hot kisses along her pulse point.

Tilting her head back giving you more room as your tongue traces random shapes on her warm skin.

Her grip tightens as her hips buck up.

“My turn,” She moans as she pushes you back gently towering over you. Welcoming the warmth from the carper and her lips as she works them up your leg. Taking her time as she kisses every inch of skin. Her hands skim your hip as she slides her leg between yours. Her thigh rubbing up against your core. Moaning at the friction you’ve been neglected from.

Heat burning in all the places her hands touch as they work their way up your body as her lips attack your neck. Her teeth leaving love bites all along your skin as you feel her wetness against your thigh. Your hips grind against her as your hands grasp at her back.

“Billie-“ You moan out as her fingertips pinch your nipple as her teeth dig into the skin at the base of your neck. Your fingers scratch down her back as her hips move faster against you. Moaning in your ear her breathing heavy.

“God you feel so fucking good underneath me pretty girl.” She whispers into your neck. “Being such a good girl. Making me feel so fucking good mamas,” Billie groans as she slides her hand between your thighs. Throwing your head back against the floor and moving your hips even faster as her fingertips find your swollen clit. Begging to be touched and played with. “Just wanna make you feel good pretty, wanna make you feel so good.” She whines.

Her hot breath hitting your skin, your vision blurring as her fingers sunk deep into your cunt as she thrust her fingers inside you without warning you swear you could feel her in your stomach.

Moaning loudly as your back arches into her. “Fuck yes! Just like that shit-” you scream.

Your bodies rocking hard against each other chasing the burning heat growing deeper inside you. Her fingers hitting all the right spots as her hips grind and rotate against you. “Billie I-” you start but are soon cut off by her lips. Capturing your bottom lip between hers swallowing your moans as you begin to clench around her fingers. You couldn’t hold it much longer especially if she kept grinding herself the way she was against you and moving her fingers so gloriously against your walls you needed to cum.

You needed to cum bad and soon. Clenching your thighs around her as you grind harder against her fingers. “Hold it,’ She growls as she glides her dripping core harder against your thigh as you tilt it up causing her to fall into you completely encasing your body underneath her. Your moans echoing off the walls as you grip her hips helping her move against you.

“Please, I wanna cum for you. Wanna be good and cum for you,” you whine in her ear as your lips trace her earlobe. Her hips faulting against you as your words seep into her skin. “Fuck, I’m cumming. Shit- I’m cumm-” She moans as her legs clench tightly around you as you feel her orgasm take over. Her body shaking and convulsing above you as her fingers curl hitting your g-spot perfectly over and over again. Her lips attacking your neck as her body arches into you.

Your grip on her tightens as you hold her tighter against you grinding up against her. Loving the feeling of her losing herself ontop of you. Watching as her body shakes and quivers all because of your touch sends a spark throughout your body. Morning loudly as your bottom lips finds itself between your teeth you can’t fight back the growing need much longer.

“Fuck, be my good girl and cum for me baby. C’mon mamas give me what I want.” She begs in your ear. Her words being the tipping point you needed as you clench around her fingers pulling her deeper into you. Your hips rubbing your cum all over her as you see stars. Moaning her name over and over again as her fingers don’t give up. Her lips still on your skin finding their way back to yours.

Capturing your lips relishing in your moans against her lips as she works your way through your high. Losing yourselves as your breathe in each other's air as you both try to catch your breath. Eyes still closed holding each other enjoying the bliss that is radiating off each other. You hear her giggle softly as she gently pulls back and kisses the tip of your nose.

Your eyes flutter open as you blink away the stars. Her body still on top of yours as your fingers move to trace her jawline. Smiling up at her tucking a piece of falling hair behind her ear.

“Hi,” you whisper as your lip finds its way between your teeth. A chuckle leaves her lips as she carefully removed your lips from between your teeth leaning down and placing a chaste kiss on your lips.

“Hi you,” she whispers back as her cheeks heat up. Her free hand traces soft shapes on your tummy. Her body gives off heat as you both lay there engulfed in each other. “That was,”

“Amazing,” you finish, causing a bashful smile to form on her lips. Matching her you catch her eyes as she leans down slowly. Her lips gently brushing against your as you feel her breath fan across your face.

“That’s one word I would use.” She jokes back as she slowly slides her fingers out from between your heat and brings them up to her lips. Her lips caging them in as she closes her eyes enjoying the taste of you on her tongue. “Fuck.” She groans as she sucks them clean looking down at you. A mischief look takes over her face as she leans down and slides her tongue between your lips.

Your hands gripping her neck holding her against you as you battle against her.

“You taste good mamas,’ she groans as she grips the side of your neck. Her forehead laying against yours. You smirk as you trace up and down her spine.

“C’mon we need to get cleaned up and in bed sweet girl.” You whisper as you peck her forehead and gently push her up. Groaning in protest as her hands hip your hips. “Nooo I want to cuddle.” She whines in your neck. As soon as she said the words you felt her body shiver from the cold air. Remembering the still cracked door you both migrated in front of. Gripping her tighter against you briefly.

“We can cuddle in bed. I promise.” You state as you lead her in sitting up. A chuckle leaves your lips as you notice her quiet huff as she stands up and holds her hand out for you. Taking her offer and leading her to the bathroom you squeeze her hand as you glance back at her with a smile.

You can’t help the butterflies that are once again fluttering deep in your belly as her gaze meets yours after they worked their way up your naked figure. “You look so pretty, baby.” She gushes out at you as she follows you willingly.

Your cheeks heating once again at her words. “Thank you.” You whisper with a smile. You grab a washcloth off the counter and turn the water onto warm. Billie makes her way behind you as you stand there waiting for the water to heat up. Her hands find your hips as her lips kiss along your shoulder blade. Her front being completely pressed up against your back. Humming a soft tune as she watches your through the mirror as you wet the cloth. Making quick work to clean yourself and then turning around to clean Billie. Her eyes never leaving yours as you slide your hand slowly down her torso.

Her breathing hitches as you gently grip her hip as your work the warm cloth between her folds. Her body falls into yours. Her hands squeeze you tighter as her forehead lays on your shoulder. Her warm breath hitting your naked skin. Her hips buckle slightly as your graze her sensitive clit.

“All finished.” You whisper as you lay the cloth on the counter. Her body still pressed against yours as she releases her lip from between her teeth and slowly lifts her head looking up at you. She pulls on your hips causing you to fall into her as she connects your lips with a soft kiss. Her hand gripping your lower back steadying you as you lose yourself in her kiss.

“Cuddles, please?” She asks as she grips your hand in hers leading you back towards the bed. Nodding your head in agreement as your smiles match each others. Pushing her gently towards the bed you release her hand and step around her. Her smile falters as her gaze follows you.

“Where are you-“ She begins.

”I still gotta close the curtains.” You state with a smirk as you close the glass door and pull the curtains closed before turning on your heel and bouncing your way back to her. Your body falling into hers causing you both to fall back onto the bed. Her arms wrapping themselves around your torso as she braces you for the impact. A giggle leaves your lips as you peck her lips once more.

Groaning, she grabs your cheek bringing your lips back to hers.

“Cuddles and maybe more kisses.” She whispers against your lips. Leaving you no choice but to nod in agreement as you find yourselves tangled back up in the sheets basking in the heat of her lips on yours.

pt 2

#billie eilish #Billie eilish x female reader #Billie Eilish smut #Billie eilish x fem!reader #Billie eilish fic #Billie eilish blurb #Billie eilish fanfic #Billie eilish x y/n #Billie eilish x reader #Billie eilish fluff #b eilish #wlw

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starkeyswomen · 29 days ago

Text

❥ LOVER ━━━━━ JOE BURROW

: ̗̀➛ word count: 3.3k

: ̗̀➛ warnings: pure fluff

: ̗̀➛ noor speaks: i had a week off from school so i wrote this😋 (even tho i lowk hate it) anyways really want some in n out. reader and joe met at lsu; hope you guys enjoy!!!

────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

december 2022

the scent of the road trip still lingers as you and joe step through the front door after spending christmas with his family in athens.

as you both enter through the garage door, you’re met with the soft glow of christmas lights still twinkling from every corner. the tree stands proudly in the corner, wrapped in its array of ornaments and twinkling lights, the stockings hanging on the fireplace. the garlands and wreaths are all still up, some of them fading a little from being up for weeks, but it’s all so festive and cozy.

you and joe share a glance, both of you silently acknowledging the holiday decor. neither of you says a word for a moment, but the sight of it feels almost surreal after the quiet, slower pace of the holiday with his family. you both walk past it, heading straight for the bedroom, both of you eager to unwind after the long trip.

the door closes softly behind you, and the noise from the world outside fades away. you kick off your shoes and throw yourself onto the bed, sinking into the soft mattress with a deep sigh. joe joins you a moment later, settling next to you on the mattress.

it’s now december 29th, a couple of days later, and as you’re lying on the couch, you glance at the christmas lights still twinkling in the living room, feeling the weight of the holiday finally starting to lift.

“you know,” you say, shifting your position on the couch, “we should really take all of this down. i mean, it’s a little late, right?”

joe, who’s sitting with his head resting against the back of the couch, gives you a lazy smile and a shrug. “we might as well leave them up ’til january.”

you give him a look, amused at his casual response. “really? january?”

he looks at you, eyebrows raised, his lips curling into a playful grin. “why not? it’s our place, no parents around to tell us what to do. we can make the rules, baby.” he pulls you closer with a lazy arm, draping it over your shoulder as he cuddles you into his side.

you sigh, rolling your eyes but not resisting as you settle into his embrace. “i guess the christmas decor stays up then,” you say, half-amused, half-resigned. there was no arguing with joe when he got like this—playful, determined, and utterly charming.

he hums in satisfaction, his thumb gently rubbing circles on your arm as he gazes down at you. then, his voice softens, and there’s a seriousness to it that makes you glance up at him.

“you know,” he starts, his voice almost quiet, “i’ve only known you for like... four years now.”

you raise an eyebrow, feeling a soft smile tug at your lips. “and?”

he shifts his position slightly so he’s looking at you more directly, his eyes searching yours. “i can’t even remember what my life was like before you,” he says with a quiet intensity that makes your heart race.

your smile deepens, and you sit up a little more, feeling a mix of emotions wash over you. “is that a good thing, or a bad thing?” you ask, trying to keep your voice light, even though your heart is pounding in your chest.

joe doesn’t hesitate. his eyes soften as he leans forward, his lips brushing against your forehead before he looks down at you with that familiar warmth. “oh, it’s a very good thing,” he says, his voice low and earnest, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

before you can respond, his lips meet yours in a soft kiss, warm and slow, like he has all the time in the world for you. you melt into it, feeling the gentle press of his lips against yours, the faint taste of his cologne still lingering on your skin. the kiss deepens, and you feel his hands move gently beneath your hoodie, tracing the smoothness of your skin as he pulls you even closer.

"very good thing," he murmurs quietly against your lips, his hands now resting at the small of your back as he slowly pulls you even closer. his fingers slip under the edge of your hoodie, sending a shiver down your spine as he gently caresses your back.

your breath catches as his lips move from yours, trailing kisses down your neck, his lips soft but sure against your skin. his touch is tender, but there’s an undeniable hunger to it, as if he can’t get enough of you. you tilt your head back slightly, allowing him more room, your body instinctively leaning into his touch.

joe’s voice is barely above a whisper as he speaks, his breath warm against your skin. “i don’t ever want to forget what it was like before you came into my life,” he murmurs, his hands continuing their gentle exploration of your skin, grounding you in the intimacy of the moment.

and in that soft, quiet space, with the christmas lights still twinkling in the distance and the world outside fading away, you know that everything is just right.

────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

january 2023

it was the first monday after new year’s, and you were determined to start the year on the right foot. you stood in the kitchen, filling up your water bottle as you got ready to head out for your morning pilates class. the january sun streamed through the windows, casting a soft glow in the kitchen, the air still crisp from winter. dressed in an alo pink set, your hair pulled into a high ponytail, you adjusted your grip on your bottle as you filled it and checked the time. after filling up your bottle, you went and grabbed a glass from the cabinet so you could also drink some water before leaving.

most days, you worked from home, so you tried your best to stay active, making pilates part of your routine. it helped clear your mind—and, if you were being honest, you loved the way it made you feel.

the sound of feet padding into the kitchen broke the quiet hum of the house. you glanced over your shoulder to see joe, still in his sweats, lazily searching for something to eat. his hair was a mess, evidence that he had just rolled out of bed, but there was a softness in his eyes as he looked at you. a slow smirk tugged at his lips as he leaned against the fridge next to you.

“where are you going?” he asks, his voice a mix of curiosity and amusement.

you take a sip of your water, walking to stand next to the sink, grinning at him as you playfully drag out the answer. “pilates,” you say casually, still not quite looking at him, trying to hide the smile that’s tugging at the corners of your mouth. you finish drinking your water, then turn around to put the glass in the sink.

joe’s eyes widen slightly, and without skipping a beat, he walks over to you, standing behind you. “can i go?” he asks, his voice light but sincere.

you turn to face him, your eyes full of disbelief. you can’t help but laugh as you stare up at him. “you, joseph lee burrow, wanna go to pilates?” you tease, a playful glint in your eye.

joe doesn’t falter. he shrugs nonchalantly, a grin tugging at his lips. “yeah. i always wanna go where you go.”

he steps closer, his body brushing against yours as he wraps his arms around your waist from behind. you lean back into him, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. his breath is soft against your ear as he murmurs, “i always wanna be close with you.”

you can’t help but giggle, the sound bubbling up from deep within as you feel his arms tighten around you.

later, as you both climbed into the car after the class, you bit back a laugh, watching joe run a hand through his sweaty hair, still catching his breath.

“how the fuck do you do this almost every day, baby?” he muttered, leaning his head against the seat, his chest still rising and falling a little heavier than usual. he turned his head toward you, eyes filled with a mix of admiration and disbelief. “i thought football was hard, but this… this is on another level.”

you glanced at him, smirking. “so much for being a football player, huh?” you teased, reaching for his hand and lacing your fingers through his.

joe exhaled dramatically, shaking his head. “i might stick to football from now on.” but the way he looked at you—like he’d do

────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

later that week on friday, ja'marr and your best friend, emma had decided to come over.

the night had started off innocently enough—board games, pizza, a few rounds of playful bickering over who was cheating at uno. you’d spent the first half of the evening curled up next to joe on the couch, watching as ja’marr and emma teamed up in monopoly, taking the game way too seriously.

then, somewhere between trading properties and fighting over who got to be the banker, the unopened bottle of tequila on the counter became the center of attention. and that’s when everything started to spiral.

at first, it was just ja’marr taking a shot after landing on boardwalk with emma grinning beside him, egging him on. then emma took one for “moral support.” soon enough, losing a round of uno became a drinking penalty, and suddenly, the game night turned into something else entirely.

you had opted out, choosing to stay sober, and joe—being joe—only had a drink or two before shaking his head at ja’marr and emma’s antics. now, a while later, the two of them were sprawled out on the couch, laughing at things that weren’t even remotely funny, completely out of it.

you and joe exchanged a glance from across the room, trying not to laugh.

“welp,” joe muttered, picking up an almost-empty bottle of tequila from the floor, giving it a scrutinizing look. “i don’t even wanna go near ja’marr. he stinks.”

he stood up, shaking his head, and made his way toward the kitchen. you followed, both of you leaving the chaos of the living room behind.

from the couch, ja’marr groggily lifted his head. “hey—I heard that, burrow!” he slurred, blinking blearily.

emma, her head resting against the back of the couch, giggled uncontrollably. “he’s right, though,” she said, playfully nudging ja’marr’s shoulder before promptly dozing off.

you sighed, shaking your head as you pulled a blanket over her. “guess they can crash here tonight,” you murmured before stepping away, leaving them to their inevitable hangovers in the morning.

the living room, once filled with loud voices and laughter, had quieted to a soft hum of breathing and the occasional sound of ja’marr shifting in his sleep.

you turned toward the kitchen, where joe leaned against the counter, the cold marble pressing through the thin fabric of his shirt. he stood there for a moment, just watching you, his blue eyes steady and unreadable.

then, out of nowhere, he murmured, “you have a very pretty neck.”

you blinked at him, caught completely off guard. “uh… thanks, joey?” you said, tilting your head slightly in amusement.

he pushed off the counter and took a step closer, reaching up to cup your face with both hands, his touch warm against your skin. his fingers gently tilted your chin up, and his eyes traced over the curve of your neck with quiet curiosity, as if seeing it for the first time.

your heart skipped a beat at the unexpected intimacy. you swallowed, your hands instinctively wrapping around his wrists. “you have a very pretty neck too,” you mumbled, your voice barely above a whisper.

joe huffed out a quiet laugh, his thumbs stroking lightly against your jaw. “thanks,” he said, the amusement clear in his voice.

you let your fingers trail over his forearm, your touch light and playful. “you know,” you mused, “i’m highly suspicious that not all your fangirls know you’re spoken for.”

joe raised a brow, intrigued. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

you gave him a knowing look. “you know exactly what that means.”

at that, joe let out a deep laugh, his head dropping onto your shoulder as his body shook with amusement. his breath fanned over your collarbone, warm and familiar, as he tried to compose himself.

you grinned, tracing absentminded patterns against the back of his hands. “i need to start marking my territory,” you teased.

joe lifted his head slightly, his lips brushing against your shoulder as he smirked. “i’m pretty sure all of my ‘fangirls’”—he made air quotes with his fingers—“know i’m spoken for. if anything, they love you more than me.”

your eyebrows lifted in curiosity. “really?”

joe leaned in, his nose brushing against yours, his voice low and certain. “really.”

you stared at him for a moment, taking in the way his eyes softened when he looked at you, the way his hands never stopped moving—thumbs ghosting over your jawline, fingertips pressing the smallest bit tighter like he wanted to commit this moment to memory.

it was one of those rare quiet moments, the kind where time seemed to slow down just enough for you to feel every single thing—the warmth of his touch, the slight rasp in his voice, the way he exhaled so softly like he was afraid to break the moment.

before you could say anything else, a loud thump from the living room shattered the silence.

both of you turned toward the noise, your heads snapping in the direction of the couch. a second later, there was a groggy, confused groan.

joe sighed, already exasperated. “i swear to god…”

you stifled a laugh as you peeked into the living room. ja’marr, in his half-asleep state, had knocked over a lamp while trying to roll onto his side. the lamp wobbled precariously before finally falling over with a dull thud.

joe ran a hand down his face. “i guess we’re not getting any more alone time tonight,” he muttered.

you laughed, reaching up to brush a strand of hair from his forehead. “it’s okay,” you teased. “we can make up for it later.”

joe smirked, his grip on your waist tightening briefly. “damn straight.”

with that, he grabbed your hand and laced his fingers through yours. “c’mon,” he said, tugging you toward the living room. “let’s make sure those two don’t burn down the place while we’re cleaning up.”

────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

the reception hall was glowing, soft golden lights casting a warm ambiance over the room. laughter and music filled the air, blending with the clinking of glasses and the shuffle of feet on the dance floor. you had just finished catching up with the bride—one of your college friends, lauren—congratulating her and her husband, connor, before making your way back to your seat.

as you approached, you could feel joe’s eyes on you, burning with admiration.

you had chosen a gorgeous dress for the occasion: a light pink number that hugged your figure perfectly, flowing just enough to give it an effortless elegance. every time you turned your head to look at joe, his eyes widened, a wicked grin tugging at his lips. he couldn’t seem to stop himself.

you gave him a look, trying to keep your composure. “what?” you mouthed silently, but you could already tell from his smirk what he was thinking.

joe leaned in, his lips brushing your ear just as you sat down next to him. his voice was low and smooth, his words teasing and dirty. “god, you’re so stunning tonight. if i didn’t know better, i’d say i’m the luckiest guy in the room,” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin.

you rolled your eyes playfully but smiled. “did you go talk to connor already?” you asked, referencing the groom, joe’s lsu teammate, whose wedding it was.

joe barely hesitated. “of course, i did,” he said confidently.

you glanced over at ja'marr, who was sitting next to joe. the second your eyes met, he suddenly avoided eye contact, looking anywhere but at you.

“go now,” you said, giving joe a knowing look.

joe sighed, leaning back in his chair. “is it a crime that i just want to compliment my girlfriend?” he asked, smirking.

you couldn’t help but smile, placing a hand on his cheek and rubbing it softly. “of course not,” you murmured. “but i just went and talked to lauren, and connor was asking where you were.”

joe groaned, knowing he was caught. “alright, alright. i’ll go.”

you grinned, watching as he reluctantly got up, shaking his head as he walked off toward connor. ja'marr let out a quiet chuckle, finally daring to look at you again.

“man’s got it bad,” he muttered, and you just laughed, sipping your drink as you watched joe go.

soon after joe returned, he was back to whispering something filthy into your ear every time you turned to look at him, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. the attention was flattering, of course, but you were trying so hard to ignore it.

every subtle brush of his hand, every lingering glance, every quiet chuckle in your ear—it was like he was determined to keep you flustered. and it was working.

eventually, you decided to take a breather, standing up to go catch up with some of your friends at the bar. as you walked away, you could still feel his eyes on you, like a magnetic pull, and you tried not to let the heat creep up your neck.

the bar was lined with guests chatting and laughing, drinks in hand, the atmosphere buzzing with warmth and celebration. you leaned against the counter, ordering a cocktail as you fell into conversation with a few familiar faces, the occasional burst of laughter spilling from your lips.

despite the distraction, you felt it—joe’s presence, even from across the room.

when you returned a few minutes later, the scene in front of you was a bit of a shock. ja'marr had taken your seat—your spot next to joe—leaving you standing awkwardly.

joe, a bit tipsy and clearly pleased with himself, looked up at you with a grin. “don’t worry, baby,” he said, his voice slightly slurred, “i saved you a seat.” he patted his lap, the gesture both sweet and possessive.

you gave him an incredulous look, but he didn’t seem to mind, instead pulling you toward him by your hips with a soft chuckle. “come on, don’t act like you weren’t thinking the same thing.”

you bit back a laugh and let him guide you down into his lap, feeling the warmth of his embrace as he wrapped his arms around you. he seemed satisfied with his plan, his hand resting comfortably on your side.

and just like that, with the music still playing softly around you and the laughter of friends and family filling the room, you knew that this was exactly where you were meant to be: beside joe, his hand on your hip, sharing private jokes and moments like no one else existed. you didn’t need to be anywhere else. you didn’t need anything else.

it was just you and your lover.

#joe burrow #cincinnati bengals #joe burrow bengals #joe burrow x reader #cincinnati football #joey b #joe burrow x y/n #joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow smut #jb9 #joe shiesty #joe burrow imagines

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greengoblinswifey · 3 months ago

Text

Winter’s Embrace— Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

summary— Spending Christmas in a cozy cabin, you help Bucky reconnect with the holiday spirit in more ways than one and have the best Christmas gift he’s ever experienced.

warnings— mentions of bucky’s past trauma, fluff, L bombs, praise kink, daddy kink, oral, fingering, face fucking, unprotected sex, creampie.

a/n— Merry Christmas Everyone, have a wonderful day🎄🫶🏽!

Bucky wasn’t much of a holiday person. He didn’t hate Christmas, but the memories of simpler times before the war, before Hydra, often left him feeling hollow. You knew this, and that was why you decided to whisk him away to a secluded cabin in the mountains for Christmas. You hoped a change of scenery might help him associate the holiday with something warm and new, something just for the both of you.

The cabin was a cozy little thing tucked into the snowy woods, decorated with warm pepper lights strung along the edges of the wooden roof. Inside, a stone fireplace crackled with a soft orange glow, and the scent of freshly baked cookies filled the air. You’d spent the afternoon decorating a Christmas tree, playfully arguing with Bucky about where to hang the ornaments.

“Babe, you can’t put all the gold ones on one side,” you teased, standing on your tiptoes to fix one of the baubles he’d clumsily placed.

“Well, I’m just trying to balance it,” he said with a smirk, stepping behind you to steady your waist as you reached higher. “And don’t forget, doll, I’m working with one arm here. I deserve a little grace.”

You laughed softly, leaning into his touch. “Fine, you win. But next year, we’re getting a way taller and bigger tree.”

He chuckled, his deep voice sending a warm shiver down your spine. “Next year, huh? I like the sound of that.”

Later that evening, after the two of you shared a simple dinner, Bucky pulled out a box you hadn’t seen before. He hesitated, holding it for a moment before placing it on the table.

“What’s that?” you asked, tilting your head.

“Something I didn’t mean to pack,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “I think I threw it in by accident when I was grabbing decorations.”

Inside the box were a few fragile ornaments, clearly from decades ago. One of them, a little snowman with a crooked top hat, caught your eye.

“This is adorable,” you said, holding it up gently.

Bucky’s gaze softened as he stared at the ornament. “My sister made that when we were kids. It’s one of the few things I still have from, uh, back then.” His voice faltered, and you reached out to hold his hand.

“You’ve been through so much,” you said softly, threading your fingers through his metal ones. “But you’re here now, and you’ve made it through all of it. You deserve this happiness, Bucky. You deserve this Christmas, and so much more.”

He exhaled slowly, his lips curving into a small smile. “You’re the reason I even try, you know that? Without you, I’d just—I don’t know.”

“Don’t do that,” you said firmly, squeezing his hand. “You’re more than your past, Buck. And I’m here for all of it, every memory, every moment. Even the bad ones, if it means I get to be with you.”

The fire crackled softly as he cupped your face in his warm hand, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “You’re my whole world, sweetheart,” he murmured, his blue eyes locked on yours. “I didn’t think I could have this. I didn’t think I could have you.”

You leaned into his touch, your lips meeting his in a soft, lingering kiss. It deepened naturally, his hands sliding to your waist as he pulled you closer.

“I love you,” he whispered against your lips.

“I love you too,” you said, your voice barely above a breath.

The warmth of the fire and the way his hands roamed your back made you feel safe, wanted, and completely at ease. Before you knew it, he had scooped you into his arms, carrying you to the bedroom with a look of pure adoration.

“I need this Buck, it would make tonight all the more special,” you whispered, as Bucky placed you gently on the plush bed.

“Anything for you doll.”

Bucky stripped you of your clothes, leaving your body bare as he kissed from your collarbone trailing down to your thighs.

“So so beautiful,” he murmured between kisses, “I got so lucky.”

You squirmed under his touch as he nipped on your inner thigh before inching to your clit, his tongue slowly flicking it.

“Buck, please,” you whined.

“That’s not my name right now, sweetheart,” he said, voice gruff before swiping his tongue along your folds.

“Daddy—m’sorry, I just need more,” you whimpered.

He granted your wish, his mouth engulfing your clit and sucking. Your body shivered as he held your legs spread eagle, savoring your sweet taste. You tasted better than anything he’d eaten all Christmas season.

“You taste amazing baby, fucking hell,” he groaned, licking from your leaking entrance back up to your clit. He slipped a finger inside your pussy, curling it and pumping steadily as his tongue focused on sucking and flicking your bundle of nerves.

“Daddy, that feels so good, don’t stop, m’ gonna cum,” you whimpered.

Bucky hummed in content, holding you down as you squirmed and pumped his fingers even faster. Your clit was swollen and throbbing on his tongue as a powerful orgasm neared.

“C‘mon angel, cum for daddy, all over my tongue,” he commanded.

Ever the obedient girlfriend, your fingers tangled in his brown hair, and you ground against his mouth as a stream of liquid spurted from your pussy.

“Mm— that’s it’s, that’s a good girl,” he cooed.

He helped you ride out your high, his fingers pumping inside your pussy as he slurped your juices before you were shaking from overstimulation.

“Can you fuck my face, daddy?” you asked shyly, looking up at him with big doe eyes.

“Anything my angel wants, she gets,” he whispered.

Bucky climbed over your body, shedding himself of his bottoms and revealing his thick, hard cock. You took ahold of it, barely able to wrap your hand around it and placed a kiss on the leaking tip.

“It’s always so pretty daddy,” you whispered, placing wet kisses all over his cock.

He wrapped your hair in his flesh hand and thrusted his cock into your mouth, immediately making you gag.

“Fuck, you’re okay, right baby?”

You nodded and buried your face into his cock, gliding your tongue along the veins on his shaft. He snapped his hips forward, fucking your mouth as he praised you.

“You’re such a good cock sucker baby, so amazing, don’t think I’m gonna last long with that mouth of yours,” he moaned.

As he slammed into your mouth, you used your soft hands to massage his balls, feeling them tighten under your touch.

“Shit, it’s coming, take my cum down your throat, angel,” he gasped, unable to hold back.

You pushed your head down until you were almost touching his pelvis, massaging his balls as his hot load shot down your throat. He continued fucking your throat as you swallowed every drop and looked down at you as if you were the most precious thing in the world.

“Good girl, fuck, I love you,” he sighed, moving down and placing a soft, lingering kiss on your lips.

He moved further down, dragging the tip of his cock along your wet pussy.

“Ready angel?” he asked, lining his cock with your entrance.

You nodded frantically, desperate to feel his hard cock, deep inside you, raw.

He slowly inched inside you, both of you gasping in pleasure. “You’re so tight, sweetheart,” he whimpered, staring into your eyes.

“Mhm—harder daddy, please,” you whined.

Bucky began steadily pounding into you harder, your pussy making noises that could be heard throughout the cabin. He rolled his hips beautifully, his cock brushing against your cervix and your g spot simultaneously. You could feel him throb each time you moaned and clamped around him.

“You feel so fucking good, you take it so well,” moaned.

He leaned down, kissing your temple and then your lips as you wrapped your legs around him and met his hard thrusts. Your pussy clenched around him tight, desperate for release.

“Shit baby, cum for daddy, I need you to cum with me, I won’t last with the way this tight pussy is just gripping the fuck outta me,” he murmured.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, your eyes locked onto his, the moment so dirty yet intimate as your jaw fell agape and the coil in your abdomen snapped.

“Daddy, I’m cumming, fuck, I’m cumming,” you cried out, your release ripping through you.

“Me too angel, I’m gonna cum inside you, take every drop,” he panted.

Your body shook under him as you felt him fill you up just as your pussy soaked his cock and the towel under you. He placed kisses all over, slowly pumping his cock as you milked him of his warm seed.

“You did so good angel, I’m so proud of you,” he smiled, kissing your lips.

“I love you so much, Bucky.”

“I love you too, doll.”

The next morning, you woke to the smell of hot chocolate and the sight of Bucky standing by the window, holding two mugs and watching the snow fall.

“Merry Christmas, doll,” he said with a soft smile, handing you a cup as you sat up in bed.

“Merry Christmas,” you replied, your heart swelling as he leaned down to kiss your forehead.

The morning passed in a blur of laughter, teasing, and exchanging gifts. Bucky had outdone himself, presenting you with an delicately engraved bracelet, a stack of books you’d mentioned months ago, and a soft cashmere sweater that matched the chocolate tone of your skin perfectly.

“You’re so sweet,” you said, shaking your head as you pulled him into a hug.

“You deserve it,” he said simply, kissing your temple.

Your gifts to him included a leather-bound journal, a vintage pocket watch, and a pair of gloves for his metal hand that you’d custom-ordered. The way his face lit up at each gift made your heart ache with love.

“Seriously, doll, you didn’t have to do all this,” he said, pulling you into his lap as the two of you sat by the tree.

“You’re worth it, Buck,” you said, cupping his face.

The day ended with the two of you baking cookies—well, you baked, and Bucky mostly snuck bites of the dough and curling up on the couch to watch It’s a Wonderful Life.

As the credits rolled, he pressed a kiss to your hair and murmured, “This might be the best Christmas I’ve ever had.”

You smiled, snuggling closer to him. “It’s only the beginning, Buck. We’ll make so many more.”

And for the first time in years, Bucky truly believed it.

Bucky smiled as you adjusted the settings on the small digital camera you’d brought along, the vintage style device fitting perfectly with the cozy holiday vibe of the cabin. “C’mere, you look so fine,” you said, waving him over to the couch where you had draped a plaid blanket for your makeshift photo session.

He chuckled softly, sitting down beside you. “You really want to document this?”

“Duh!” you said with a grin, leaning closer to frame the two of you in the shot. “This is our first Christmas together, Buck. I want to remember it forever.”

“Alright,” he said, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you closer. “But if I look ridiculous, you’re deleting it.”

“Deal,” you teased, snapping the picture.

You ended up taking dozens of photos, some posed, some candid, and some of Bucky caught mid laugh as you tickled his sides to get him to smile. When you were done, you set the camera aside and rested your head on his shoulder.

“I also have this,” you said, handing him a tiny gift bag from under the tree.

“What’s this?” he asked, raising an eyebrow as he pulled out a small, personalized keychain engraved with the words “Home is wherever you are.”

“It’s cheesy, I know,” you said, suddenly shy. “But I thought—”

“I love it,” he interrupted, his voice soft. He attached it to his keys immediately, turning it over in his hands. “Thank you, angel. You always know how to make things special.”

Later, the two of you ventured outside, bundled up in coats and scarves, to build a snowman in the fresh snow. You laughed as Bucky insisted on giving the snowman a “metal arm” made of a stick he found, complete with a dramatic pose.

When the sun began to set, you returned to the cabin to warm up by the fire. Bucky brewed hot chocolate while you set up a board game, the two of you spending hours teasing and laughing over your competitive streaks.

As the night wound down, you turned on the record player in the corner, selecting a soft, jazzy Christmas tune. Bucky took your hand, pulling you into an impromptu dance in the middle of the room. His hands rested securely on your waist as yours looped around his neck, and the two of you swayed in time with the music.

“I never thought I’d have this again,” Bucky murmured, his forehead resting against yours.

“Have what?” you asked softly, brushing your thumb over the nape of his neck.

“This,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “Happiness. A home. You.”

You kissed him tenderly, your hearts full of love and the promise of many more Christmases to come.

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jamilynfx · 7 months ago

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Do You Wanna Build a Snowman? (No, the fuck, I don't)

This is part 2 of this post 💖

Summary: Winter has come to New York and that means only two things: being cold and putting up with Wade's obsession with the movie Frozen.

Pairings: Logan Howlett x Wade Wilson x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.6K

Warnings: sexual humor, mentions of oral sex, referenced drug use

Winter.

A time for singing carols, decorating a Christmas tree and eating unhealthy amounts of gingerbread. For some, an ideal season for various, cold-oriented activities that include skiing, snowball fighting or drinking hot chocolate right after ice-skating on the overpriced ice-rinks in the city center.

You hate it all passionately.

Well, maybe decorating a Christmas tree is somewhat enjoyable and worth looking forward to but other activities that require being outside during winter are a hard no for you.

Which brings you to the problem you encounter every other time that the weather decides it’s high time to spawn tons of snow in the city, or, more accurately, a problem with Wade’s obsession over that godforsaken children’s movie.

“Do you wanna build a snooooowmaaan?! COME ON, LET’S GO AND PLAY.”

Logan growls for, what seems to be, the hundredth time in an hour. Al looks defeated and only Laura completely ignores Wade’s crazy bouncing and twirling in favor of cutting out a perfect circle out of the cookie dough.

“Shut the fuck up, bub. No one wants to build a snowman with you,” Logan grumbles lowly, getting the volume all the way up on the TV, since it’s difficult to hear anything through Wade’s singing.

Laura makes a face.

“Ouch, that was a bit harsh, even for you.”

“Sorry if I’ve had enough of this performance that’s going on for two hours now!” he exclaims heatedly but without real irritation behind it. That’s his way of saying that Wade really got on his nerves and he’s almost reached his daily limit for Wade’s bullshit.

“It’s fine, Lo, don’t shout,” you say with love, cutting out your own shape in a dough, a crooked star with rough, uneven edges. Making cookies is something that you enjoy doing, mostly because it’s all done inside the house, not outside, where all hell breaks loose. “Why don’t you go by yourself, Wade?”

He looks kinda cute with Elsa’s costume he’s thrown on his suit and a plastic tiara set atop a blond wig he’s stitched to his head but hearing the same song being performed over and over again starts to tug on your nerves, too, especially when you know Wade is completely serious in saying he wants to build a snowman.

“Because it’s BOOOORING! I would ask Al, but, well, she can’t fucking see, can you imagine what the snowman would look like if I did that with her? A fucking carrot up his ass, that’s what would happen! And the only snow she likes ain’t the one outside, hot pups.”

Al, sitting beside Logan on the couch, sighs loudly and nudges Logan’s side with her elbow.

“What’s on now?”

“Hot pups?” you question, raising your brows and smiling at Laura, who tries not to laugh.

“That’s new,” Logan comments on a nickname that Wade’s just made up, simultaneously switching between the channels. “A western, soap opera or reality…”

“Reality!” Both Al and Laura are unanimous on this one. Logan changes the channel to trash reality tv without any protest.

“Exactly, hot pups or baby girl, that’s basically the same thing. Anyway, I’m not asking Laura because she’s our guest and I for sure won’t ask peanut, don’t wanna end up with that claws up my ass today. Something else would be fine, tho.” Wade winks to Logan who only rolls his eyes, not once looking in Wade’s direction. “I was gonna ask you but you hate winter activities, besides that one time when you sucked my dick in the park after we went to a Jonas Brothers concert.”

You almost get a whiplash from the way your head turns to look at him, your cheeks immediately turning a deep shade of red.

“Wade!”

Althea looks visibly disgusted, Laura blinks a few times muttering damn under her breath and Logan stares at you with and you haven’t done that to me? look on his face. You stifle an urge to run to the bathroom and not come out for the rest of the evening, covering your face with your hands.

“Motherfucker, I wish I was deaf,” Al laments out loud with Wade’s sick laughter as her background before he starts do you wanna build a snowman all over again.

“Someone has to go out and build that damn snowman with him, I can’t hear a fucking thing!” Logan shouts abuse, his patience running thin judging by the way his claws unsheathe in his left hand.

“Rock, paper, scissors?” Laura suggests good-naturedly for you to only whine in surrender. That’s enough chaos for this evening.

“No, I’ll go with him,” you sigh with exasperation and get up to go get dressed. “But you’re soooo going down on me after this, Wade!”

As soon as the sentence leaves your mouth, Wade squeaks excitedly, running to get his brand-new Frozen mittens, which he managed to yank out of a little girl’s hands while you were at the thrift store last week.

“You got it, baby girl!” he exclaims and high-fives Laura on his way out, not waiting for you to catch up. You can only hear his do you wanna build a snowman while he hurries down the stairs of your compound.

Al, Laura and Logan all seem to breathe out in relief, focusing all their attention on the TV show that’s currently on.

Even Mary doesn’t perk up from Logan’s lap and you can’t help but feel a little bit betrayed.

______________

You have to admit, it’s not all that bad.

Wade does everything in his power to make it enjoyable for you, despite the low temperature and cold wind that blows in your face every other minute. There’s a lot of snow outside which makes for a really long snowman-building session, turning Wade into a literal five year old, but he still manages to make you laugh multiple times. You can’t really be cross with him when he’s having such a good time and, after your initial reluctance, you find yourself having a great time, too.

The snowman turns out really cute and quite big, three sizable balls of snow each atop of the other, now standing guard in front of the entrance to your building. Somewhere between creating the top ball and sticking branches into the snowman’s sides to imitate arms, Laura comes down and says goodbye, reminding you both how late it is and that you should probably wrap the whole thing up.

Now, you’re so cold it’s difficult to think straight. Your hands are shaking, teeth clattering and you’re sure that your lips have the color of a ripe plum.

“We’ve made one hell of a snowman together, baby girl.”

Your body trembles involuntarily but you smile happily, once again inspecting your work.

“Yeah, we did.”

Wade hugs you closely and kisses your forehead, then your blue lips.

“Come on, hot pups, let’s get you back to the warmth.”

Thank god you don’t have to go far. As soon as you’re back in the apartment, you ditch your shoes and outside clothes, which makes you feel even colder than when you were outside. It’s quiet inside, which means that Al is probably already asleep. Wade is somewhere behind you when you find Logan already in bed, Mary snuggled in between his legs, your old man reading a book.

“All done? How was it?” he asks, setting the book aside and immediately raising the covers for you to join him.

“COLD! Fuck!”

You jump on the bed, choosing the quickest way to find yourself in Logan’s warm arms. Mary definitely doesn’t approve, getting her little ass up and pattering towards Wade, who has just entered the room.

“Fuckin’ A, that’s what our snowman is, peanut,” he says, taking Mary up into his arms, kissing her and then setting her back on the bed to undress properly. Logan gives him a foul look.

“She’s freezing, you idiot,” he grumbles at Wade, then smiles at you encouragingly. “Come ‘ere, bub,” Logan spurs you on, opening his arms for you and offering his chest to be your private pillow. You gladly accept, letting your body tremble and your teeth clatter as much as they want to while snuggling up in Logan’s embrace, your cold arms finding their way onto his back, your head falling into place half on his shoulder and half on his chest, allowing you to glue the front of your cold body to his heated one. He weaves his fingers into your hair while his other palm comes to rest on your waist, pulling you as close as it’s physically possible.

Wade follows quickly behind to lock you in between them. When glorious heat starts radiating from both of them, enveloping you on both sides, you sigh contentedly, kissing up Logan’s chest, then finding the best slot for your cheek and straight up fawning on Logan.

“I still want that head, asshole,” you mumble already half-asleep, feeling Wade’s hands roam over your legs and belly when he’s aligning himself with your back, covering your body with his and slowly heating you up from behind, making you melt against him. He throws his arm over your body to reach Logan, who growls warningly.

“One day, I’m biting it off, you fucker.”

“Yeah, do it, it’s gonna grow back anyway, Wolvie,” Wade says mockingly, then trails the kisses behind your ear. “I’ll wake you up with it, snookums. Deal?” he asks, his low tone is making you shiver but this time it’s not out of cold.

You smile dreamily, pressing your butt into his hips.

“Deal.”

#deadpool and wolverine #poolverine #poolverine x reader #deadpool x wolverine x reader #deadpool 3 #wade wilson x reader #wade wilson x you #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x you #writing #mine

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deadkaywizard · 3 months ago

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Jegumas - Day 18: Stories - 626 words - @noblehouseofgay

Harry was refusing to sleep, he was too excited for the next morning when he would get to see his uncles Pad and Moon (he was still struggling with some sounds and most names ended up coming out shortened or different) to help them pick out a tree for their place. Sirius wanted a real tree, he was absolutely determined to have one this Christmas for whatever reason. Regulus on the other hand wouldn’t allow one in the house because of all the upkeep and mess. Instead he’d opted for a fake tree enchanted to look and smell real, ‘because we have class’ he’d said.

Regardless, their son was beyond excited at the prospect of picking out a tree, cutting it down and bringing it home to decorate and was refusing sleep. They’d tried everything to convince him, they’d told him it would come sooner if he slept, they’d tried a glass of warm milk, they’d even tried driving around the block a few times to look at Christmas lights (which usually put Harry to sleep within two streets), but he was holding out. They’d finally managed to get him into bed but now he was demanding stories.

“Papa, tory,” he demanded as Regulus sat at the edge of his bed.

“Another story, little star?” He cooed, happy to indulge his son. He’d never tell James, though he was sure he knew, that difficult bedtimes were somehow Regulus’s favorite.

“Pwease,” he pouted adorably.

“Fine, one more story little one and then off to the skies with you,” he acquiesced as he always did. “What story do you want?”

“Dada!” He exclaimed, wiggling excitedly. He wasn’t sure how, but one night Regulus had told Harry how he and James had met and since then it had become his favorite bedtime story.

“All right, settle in,” he hummed happily as he fixed the blankets around the small boy. “It all started because of your uncle Padfoot.”

He told the story of the day he’d first met James and how he’d already decided he didn’t like him, but how over time and through the years he realized that hadn’t been true at all. He whispered secrets to the boy of how he’d tried for ages to figure out what was so special about James Potter of all people that eventually he realized he was special to him too. By the time he was finished Harry’s eyes were long since shut and small snores were falling from his lips. Regulus smiled softly at his son, kissing his forehead gently before standing to leave the room and seeing his husband standing there, his hand to his mouth and tears in his eyes.

“How long have you been there?” He asked quietly as he got closer, a questioning brow quirked.

“Long enough to know that you think I’m special,” he smirked, reaching his hand out to grab Regulus’s when he was close enough.

“I married you, of course I think you’re special,” he scoffed, trying to brush off what he’d said as James pulled him against his chest.

“You had a crush on me,” he smiled softly, cupping Regulus’s face in one hand.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, I hated you for years,” he rolled his eyes even as he melted into James’s touch.

“And I loved you enough for the both of us,” he bent down and kissed him softly then, it was sweet and full of all the love they felt between them. “Let’s go to bed, love.”

He led them to their room where they fell into bed, locked together in a loving embrace. The following morning Harry would go with his uncles leaving James and Regulus alone, Regulus was already planning on how they would spend that time.

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wardenparker · 3 months ago

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Who Took the Merry Out of Christmas

Frankie Morales x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Rating: Explicit for family dysfunction. This blog is always 18+ Word Count: 10.7k Warnings: Post partum depression, marriage trouble, mentions of addiction, demanding family, abusive parents, verbal abuse, emotional abuse, dysfunctional family, a very sweet baby who has done nothing wrong ever, parents abusing their adult children in front of others. (There is a happy-ish ending, I promise.) Summary: It's only been a few months since Frankie came home from South America, and both of your families are bearing down on you for the holidays. A rocky marriage and even rockier relationships with your parents are bound to make for a very tense Christmas. Notes: Sorry it's not light and fluffy this year, gang. It just hasn't been a light and fluffy time. Considering how dramatic this holiday season has been, this little slice of family trauma seemed pretty appropriate.

Christmas. The time of year that is supposed to merry and bright. Well, the bright is accurate, especially in south Florida. Not a dusting of snow to be had, the palm trees in the front yard decorated with lights and the temperatures still letting everyone wear shorts and t-shirts if they wanted. It’s definitely not the white Christmas you had grown up with, but Frankie prefers this over freezing his ass off while shoveling snow off the driveway just to go to the store to get diapers.

The magic rubs off over the years. From childhood we outgrow the sparkle of the Christmas season as we stop thinking of it as magical, and now it's just another set of expectations that inevitably seems impossible to meet.

Both sides of your family had expected you and Frankie to host this year. Because of the baby, they said. Because now that you had a real family, it was time for you to take on the responsibility of holiday hosting. It's frustrating enough to be a first time mother of an eight month old. It's sleepless and difficult and Frankie has only barely gone back to work so money has been tighter than tight.

“Why don’t we just tell them that we can’t?” Frankie leans back from the sink where he’s finally shaving to look at you perched in the bed. You are tired and he knows that despite what you’ve said, hosting Christmas is the last fucking thing you need. “We have the baby. It’s a lot.”

"Because Christmas is next week, Francisco," you remind him. The baby monitor is on your nightstand, and you fiddle with it, but it's mostly a nervous habit. Mirabel wasn't a good sleeper for the first few months and you're constantly worried that she'll start having trouble again. "And they're coming here because of her. It was a miracle they didn't all fly down to cram into the delivery room when she was born, it seems mean to say they can't see her at Christmas."

“One— I wouldn’t have let them in the delivery room.” That memory was for him alone, he has absolutely loved being the first to hold his daughter. To be there to help and watch as you pushed his child into the world. “Two, shouldn’t that mean that they want to save you the stress of hosting?” He asks, leaning back in and putting the razor back to his cheek. “Hell, I say we order Chinese and be done with it.”

"I would agree." Stretching out in bed helps a lot. You've been dealing with a little hip pain lately that gets exasperated by carrying Mirabel around and you make sure to do stretches every morning and night – at least for a few minutes. "But we're in it now. Flights are booked. Meals have to be planned."

“I’ve got to mow the grass tomorrow.” He knows you will remind him of it so he goes ahead and checks it off your mental list. “And you need more mushrooms, right?” He makes a face in the mirror, hating mushrooms but you don’t seem to have picked up on that.

"Beef Wellington on Christmas is a family tradition." Your mother made it ever year from the recipe that her mother-in-law taught her, and now you make it every year for you and Frankie and however many of your friends you end up having over to dinner on the holiday. Usually it's the Miller brothers, this year might include Pope as well.

It’s good that he’s in a different room than you are so you don’t see the face that he makes. He hates the Beef Wellington, he’s just never been able to admit that. When you were dating, you could have served him a boiled shoe and he would have praised it. It was better than an MRE or the shit they served in the chow hall most days on base. And Frankie’s idea of cooking was either firing up a grill or going out to eat, so home cooked whatever was good to him. Especially when he knew he was getting laid after dinner. Now he’s stuck eating mushrooms every damn Christmas and it sucks. “I know.” He sighs, turning on the water to rinse the hair out of his razor. “I changed the sheets in the guest rooms.” He tells you. “And made sure your mom has the ‘good pillows’.” He rolls his eyes, again, happy you can’t see him because you would definitely scold him for that.

“Thank you, honey.” You know damn well he thinks it’s ridiculous and probably had a running monologue going why he made the guest beds about how picky your families are, but his parents are just as bad as yours in different ways. That’s why this holiday is going to be so fucking stressful. Part of why you work so hard to make family visits perfect is because his mother has never approved of you. “We’ll make sure everything is perfect. It will all be fine.”

Frankie hums as he finishes shaving and wipes his jaw dry. It’s a little jarring to see the smooth skin, he’s sported a patchy beard since getting out, but he’d decided that one thing he needed to do was look better after getting his pilot’s license back. He steps out of the bathroom and grins at you. “Hey baby.”

“Hey.” You say it before you look up, and when you lift your eyes you do a double take. “Clean shaven, huh? It’s been a while.”

He shrugs slightly, reaching up and rubbing his cheek lightly. “Figured your mom would complain less if I was clean shaven.” He had even gotten a haircut, not nearly as short as when he was active duty, but trimmed from the longer curls he had recently been sporting.

“Mira’s going to spend half of tomorrow poking at your face,” you predict, smiling softly. It will be the first time your daughter has ever seen him clean shaven.

He snorts. “As long as she doesn’t cry.” He slides his eyes along your body, not caring that you are in a comfy t-shirt and short, you look sexy to him. “So what are my chances of getting lucky tonight?” He asks, lifting a brow.

“Are you suddenly into somnophilia?” It proves your point that you can barely stifle a yawn. Getting up multiple times a night to pee or see what Mirabel needs takes its toll on your rest, and god knows you never ever get to sleep in anymore. Sure, you knew being a mother was going to be exhausting, but this is above and beyond that.

His playful grin slips and he shakes his head. “No baby, not if you’re too tired to enjoy yourself.” He doesn’t sigh, but he does miss the intimacy, the closeness of sex. Instead of complaining, he reaches back into the bathroom to flip off the light and starts walking towards the bedroom door. He will check the doors and downstairs windows one last time before setting the alarm, a habit of his. “You need some water or something downstairs?”

"No, I'm okay." It's not that you don't want him. He's still the same gorgeous man you married and conceived your daughter with. It isn't a matter of want. It's a matter of being so exhausted and feeling so disgusting from never having time to thoroughly shower and always ending up sweaty and sticky somehow. You don't feel like yourself, and you haven't since your second trimester.

But unloading all of that on Frankie doesn't seem fair when he's finally getting back on his feet with work and therapy and kicking his drug habit. The man doesn't even drink anymore, because he doesn't want to slip up again. So you keep your mouth shut and don't bitch about your own discomfort.

He sighs softly as he goes downstairs. Another night where he’s turned down, but he understands. You’ve been dealing with some postpartum issues and he doesn’t want to push. He just wants to make love to his wife more than once a month. It’s another reason why he had thought hosting Christmas would be a bad idea. You are already worn down and frazzled, despite Frankie sharing the load of the house and baby with you as much as he possibly could. This is just going to add more stress to your already loaded down shoulders and he doesn’t like it at all.

You turn over and slip under the covers when he goes downstairs to check the alarms. Being overwhelmed and depressed has you feeling like you're out drowning in the middle of the ocean and have suddenly forgotten how to swim. The best thing you can do right now is try to sleep.

Frankie comes back upstairs, slipping into the bed and curling around you. He hates that instead of curling against him, you huddle against your side of the bed. Wondering if you are secretly still pissed at him for the entire Coke thing. “I love you.” He whispers before he closes his eyes.

You love him, too. You do. And you have this whole time. It's just so hard to pull yourself out of the bottom of the ocean of your depression and uncertainty that you just pretend to be asleep and hope that you both knock out quickly.

Maybe tomorrow will be better. Probably not, but maybe. After all, it can't be worse.

******

“It’s okaaaaaaay.” Frankie bounces his very upset little girl on his hip and shoves a finger in her mouth. She’s teething and of course woke up in a horrible mood. She hiccups and he grabs the teething ring to throw it back in the freezer for a little bit. “It’s okay, baby girl. I know it hurts. Believe me, it doesn’t get better when you have a cavity either.”

"But she'll have good dental hygiene and never have a cavity in her whole life." You call from the kitchen, working your ass off to make sure that each and every bit of Christmas dinner is accounted for perfectly. Frankie isn't the world's best cook by any means, but this family tradition is ingrained in your bones -- beef Wellington, scalloped potatoes, green beans with almonds, and a demi-glace gravy to make everything even richer and fancier. It's a far cry from what you normally eat but that is sort of the point. It's the holidays. This is the time to be fancy.

He snorts. “Not if she gets her teeth from my side.” He calls back. “I’m ninety percent fillings at this point.” That makes her giggle and he grins at her. “Was daddy funny?” He walks her back into the kitchen to find you frantically stirring something. “I’ve got the living room vacuumed and the egg nog is in the garage fridge.”

"Have you heard from your parents yet?" Your in-laws are always early, which is not exactly a sin but it is inconvenient. If they say they'll be somewhere at 7 then they are always there by 6:30, wondering where on earth you've been for the last half hour.

“Not yet.” He loves his mom, he really does, but he’s not blind to her persnickety nature. He’s talked to her about it but it seems like she doesn’t bother you. A wonderful thing considering she’s run off more than one girlfriend of his over the years. “You know her, she’s gonna show up when she wants to. At the most inconvenient damn time.”

“I just want to have dinner in the oven when they get here.” The Christmas after Frankie proposed, your own parents had hosted everyone and Vanessa Morales had been less than impressed when your mother was still getting things into the oven when they arrived. It apparently didn’t matter in the least that they were early.

“Roger.” He kind of treats the parents visiting like a mission, a hostile one.

“Where did the Millers end up this year?” You can’t tell if it’s better or worse to not have his friends here as a conversational buffer. Part of you is grateful for fewer people in the house and half wishes you had friends here to lean on.

“I think Will and Teresa are going to get back together.” Frankie admits. “He said him and Benny were going to have Christmas with her and her brothers.” Frankie had always liked Will’s ex-fiancée and he knew you did as well.

“Good.” That’s a relief, showcased with how easily your shoulders drop with just a touch of tension dropped. “Good. That’s…That will be really good for them. I know they’ve missed each other.”

“They have.” Frankie pauses for a second . “Ben said he was going to swing by and check on Molly and the girls.” He murmurs quietly, regret lacing his tone.

“Where is Pope spending Christmas?” It’s not necessary to express more regret over Redfly’s death. Every single one of you have shed your tears over it and you make sure to check in with Molly at least once a week just like you always have. Family that you choose means you choose each other over and over again.

“He’s still in Australia.” Frankie sighs softly. Yovanna has covered her tracks well and he’s still looking for the woman he had fallen in love with.

"Shit..." All you can really do is shake your head at that. Even if Santiago Garcia is on your shit list for inducing the entire team away to South America for weeks, what happened there wasn't really his fault. It sounds like everything that could go wrong did, and the best that you can do is be grateful that Frankie came home to you in one peace.

“Yeah.” He shuffles slightly, rocking the baby as she continues to gnaw on her first and drool all over his shirt. He knows you aren’t happy with what happened, and he’s never been able to tell you all the details.

The tentative expression on his face makes you shake your head, and you turn back to the pan you have on the stove with a sigh. "You'll tell me when you're ready." It's been months and he's still keeping the whole story from you, but you have always been patient. You have always let Frankie come to you. "Let's just not do it on Christmas Eve. Our families are almost here."

“Okay.” He knows you are upset that he won’t talk to you, but he steps closer and leans down to kiss your shoulder. “Thank you for understanding.”

He'll come to you when he's ready. And you're doing your damnedest to be patient. But it's fucking hard when you feel like you're weathering a private storm on the edge of an ocean hell bent on drowning you.

For better or for worse, that is the moment that the doorbell rings.

“It’s showtime.” Frankie mutters, trying to plaster a happy smile on his face and just managing to look constipated.

"Shit, shit." You shove two trays into the oven right away, barely able to check to make sure that everything is assembled correctly but just dying to have it all in the oven. "Okay. That's got to be your parents." Frankie has walked away with the baby, leaving you to quickly wipe down the kitchen and pray you're not smelly from the sweat you worked up preparing dinner.

Frankie opens the door, smiling when he sees his mother and stepfather standing on the porch. “You made it.” He greets them. “Made good time getting here.”

“Of course we did.” Vanessa Morales moved into the house with determination, but the first thing she does is reach for her granddaughter. “Ay, hola Gordita! Eres mucho más bonita que tus fotos.”

Suddenly feeling shy, she pulls back and buries her face in Frankie’s neck. “Está bien, es tu abuela.” He soothes, rubbing her little back. “She’s cutting another tooth.” He explains.

“Pobrecita.” Vanessa coos, not taking the baby’s cue at all. “Come give your abuela a kiss, Gordita. Dame un beso.”

Mira doesn’t like it when someone crowds her face that she’s not familiar with and she immediately starts to cry, clinging to Frankie and trying to get away from her. “Mama.” He huffs, holding her tighter and cooing softly. “Give her a few minutes to warm up to you.”

Vanessa frowns, but relents when her husband agrees with Frankie. Instead, all she says as she’s lead into the house is, “Your sister’s bebes didn’t need time to warm up.”

“Gabriella lives in the same town as you, mama.” He reminds her, rolling his eyes at her miffed reaction. “Mira has seen you twice since she was born.”

“Even so.” His mother huffs, as though it were a personal affront.

“Feliz Navidad, Vanessa.” You come out of the kitchen a second later with your face freshly washed just to give yourself a boost and offer your in-laws a smile. “Hi, Javier. It’s nice to see you both.”

“There’s my favorite daughter-in-law.” Javier might just be a step-parent, but he has always thought that Francisco had chosen the best woman for him, despite what his wife might say. Vanessa is prickly, and while he might find that attractive since he’s a self-confessed asshole, he tries to make you feel accepted when he’s around. He steps around Vanessa to pull you in for a hug.

“Feliz Navidad, Javi.” The extra moment of consideration from your husband’s stepfather is dearly appreciated, and you accept the hug whole-heartedly. “How’s things?”

“Same.” He doesn’t mind slightly offending Frankie, so he kisses your y forehead and leans back to wink at you. He was a ladies man back in the day and still a silver fox, so it’s always fun to raise the hackles of the man he loves like his own son. Just for shits and giggles. “Better now that I’m around three beautiful ladies.” He turns that charming smile on Mira and leans in. “This one most of all.”

He earns a full belly laugh from his granddaughter and you feel yourself breathe just a little easier. Javier in a good mood bodes well for the night. “Can I offer you both something to drink? Vanessa?”

“I don’t suppose you have wine,” Vanessa manages to make it sound vile, to not have wine in the house. “Actually, mom, she picked up a bottle of your favorite sangria.” Frankie pipes up.

“Let me get you a glass.” The atmosphere is already frigid but that’s just how it’s always been between the two of you. Thank God she doesn’t know about the coke or she’d surely find a way to blame you for Frankie’s addiction issues, too. Just like she’s blamed you for everything else she deems wrong with her only son’s life.

“Javi?” Frankie lifts a brow towards his stepfather. “You want a whiskey? I’ve got a bottle in the den.”

“Good man.” Javi commends, and clasps his stepson on the back as they disappear into the other room together.

Vanessa turns towards you expectantly and pulls a tight smile. “When will dinner be ready?” She asks. “Assuming you’ve started cooking, of course.”

It’s too much for how exhausted you are, and even being prepared doesn’t make it okay. Without a buffer, Vanessa aims all of her venom at you endlessly. “It will be ready in an hour. No need to worry.” And the sooner your own parents get here the better — not that they’re perfect by any means.

“You look tired.” It’s not an observation born out of concern, but criticism. “You should really put a bit of effort in.” She hums. “Fransisco deserves that, doesn’t he?”

Yes. He does. But your husband of six years is also well aware of how much work raising a newborn is. Which is why you just smile and bite back how much his mother's constant nitpicking bothers you. "Your son prefers a natural look," you inform her as politely as you can without snapping. "No make up. So that I always look like myself."

She can’t possibly argue with that, because it would mean insulting her precious baby boy. Instead she just looks around like she’s never seen the place and starts to wander off towards the kitchen.

You’re debating whether or not you need to follow her when the doorbell rings. It’s still a touch too early for your parents to arrive — they shared their location with you so you could track their driving route on your phone from the airport. It should be ten more minutes until they arrive.

“I’ll get it!” You call, wondering if Frankie heard the doorbell in the den, and head back to the front.

“That must be her parents.” Frankie sighs and looks longingly at the bottle of whiskey but he knows he can’t have any. It wouldn’t be fair to you or to Mira.

“Save it for later.” Javi advises. “When your mama’s gone to bed and the baby is down, and you can relax with your wife.” It seems like Frankie is struggling more than he has let on, but there isn’t time to talk about that now. “Go say hi to your in-laws. I can take Mira if she’s okay with it.”

Surprisingly, it doesn’t take much convincing on either man’s part for Mira to go to her abuelo. Immediately little fingers dig into the hair covering his upper lip and Frankie chuckles. “She doesn’t understand why I don’t have facial hair today.” He explains.

“She can play all she wants.” Javi laughs, bouncing the little girl in his arms. “I got her, Frankie. Go on.”

It’s almost jarring to the aloof and broody man he had spent his teenage years around laughing and chortling at a baby, but Frankie smiles at the sight before turning to see about mitigating the next disastrous arrival.

You’re already at the door, half-smiling and half-bewildered as your parents hand off a bag full of wrapped presents to you like a butler and chatter away as they enter.

“It’s good to see you dear.” Your mother hums, “our trip here seemed to take forever.” She opens her mouth to once again suggest that you move back home and Frankie comes in to greet them.

“It isn’t exactly a short flight.” You can acknowledge that, and it’s why your parents don’t visit more often. Your dad isn’t up to that much traveling anymore. “I’m glad we’re able to spend Christmas with you.”

“So are we.” The problem in Frankie’s eyes about his in-laws spending Christmas with you is that they treat the house like a hotel and you like staff for the visit. They don’t Think they should lift a finger for themselves. “Hey, glad you made it.” He gives them a polite smile and nods at your father before holding out his hand to shake it.

“Francisco.” Even after a decade together, your father still refuses to call your husband by his nickname. He shakes Frankie’s hand with unnecessary force, like usual, and grunts with approval. “How’s things?”

“Going well, sir.” Despite the difficulties raising a child, he knows voicing that to your parents would do neither of you any good. “And you?”

“Retirement is boring.” Your father gripes good-naturedly. “Thinking about finding something part tune just to get out of the house and avoid the nagging at home.”

Frankie snorts. “Yeah I could see how that would be a little overwhelming for you.”

"Never stop working, if you can help it." The older man claps Frankie on the shoulder like he's doling out the sagest advice in the world. "She'll be fine with the baby. But the second you're home for more than twenty minutes an extra day? You'll have a Honey Do list longer than your arm."

Frankie doesn’t mind spending time with his daughter and cleaning up around the house that is also his responsibility but he just hums. “That’s some advice.” He makes it sound like he agrees just to keep the peace. You need help with things and his father-in-law’s outlook is a little old fashioned for him.

“You’ll thank me for it,” your father advises, and gives Frankie another friendly-if-condescending pat on the arm before walking away in search of whatever it is he wants but hasn’t asked for yet. Presumably to find his wife, but that’s an assumption.

“Jesus.” Frankie sighs and turns to start taking jackets and bags from you. “I’ll get their bags to their room.” He grins. “Do I get a tip?”

“Does a kiss count?” Just because you’re both exhausted and you haven’t been in the mood for sex doesn’t mean you don’t love your husband or appreciate the things he does to help you.

“The best kind of tip.” He vows, leaning in and stealing a quick kiss before pulling away. You seem to shy away from physical displays when your parents are around. “I’ll be right back.”

“Thank you, honey.” Having him jump on board to help means everything, but you frown a second later. “Where’s the baby? I thought I put her playpen away.”

“She’s with Javier.” He smirks slightly. “Old man apparently still has it with the ladies.”

"Well, that's something, at least." Something that his mother is going to hate – that the baby hid from her and went straight to her abuelo instead. "I'm going to pour drinks for people and get the shrimp cocktail out of the fridge so everybody can focus on food instead of bickering."

“I’ll be there as quickly as I can dump these in their room.” He promises, you having already determined which room your parents are staying in.

But as fast as Frankie can move in spite of his bad back, it isn’t fast enough. By the time you walk into the kitchen you find all four of your collective parents staring at each other like it’s a stand off at the O.K. Corral.

“How about a little appetizer?” You ask, after a few seconds of trying to read the room and finding the stony silence completely impenetrable. The only thing you care about is keeping them reasonably civil and having your little girl back in your arms. “Thanks for hanging on to her, Javier.” You offer him a smile when you take her back.

“Oh that’s no problem at all.” Mira giggles at him and leans in to cuddle against his chest, making him smile proudly. “Nothing I wouldn’t do for this little beauty.”

“You wanna stay with abuelo, sweetheart? You go right ahead.” It leaves your hands free, and you’re grateful to have that for a few more moments. So instead of extracting your baby girl from her grandparent, you kiss her curls and cross to the refrigerator to retrieve the tray of shrimp cocktail you put together this morning. “Can I get anyone a drink? Or a refill?”

“Since we are already starting with the alcohol, I would like some wine.” Your mother eyes the glass of whatever is in Vanessa’s hand and tuts slightly. “White of course, red wines are too heavy for me.”

This is what holidays are. What family gatherings are. What they always are and why you dread them so much. Conversation can never seem to be civil, no one ever offers to help. Frankie is always putting out proverbial fires with all four parents while you work to be the perfect hostess but it’s never even enough to keep the peace. Everyone leaves feeling worse than when they came and yet they still insist on seeing the two of you. It’s enough to make you want to flee the scene, but you would never give your mother-in-law the satisfaction of seeing you run scared. It would only cement her low opinion of you.

So you pour drinks and serve appetizers, plastering the smile on your face and eventually taking Mirabel back from Javier just for utter relief of having your daughter back in your arms. By the time Frankie comes back downstairs, the doorbell rings again. Oh god, is all you can think, because you’re not expecting anyone else. What fresh hell is this?

Frankie frowns slightly, exchanging a confused look with you. “I’ll get it.” He promises, slightly caught off guard and wary by the unexpected arrival of someone else. Not that a fucking drug cartel would ring the doorbell. A firebomb through the window would be more their style.

The impatient chimes ring twice more before Frankie makes it across the house, not because it takes long but because of the insistent person on the other side. If your mother wasn’t already inside you would have guessed it was her without hesitation.

“Coming!” The friendly tone that Frankie adopts does stop him from reaching into the entry way dresser and pulling out the snub nosed .38 he keeps in there for just this occasion. He tucks it into the back of his pants before opening the door to find that it’s not necessary. “Benny!”

“Hey man.” Benny is grinning from ear to ear when he leans in the doorway to embrace his friend, slapping Frankie on the back in the process. “Sorry to drop in, but did you get Pope’s text?”

“Haven’t had time to look at my phone.” He hugs Ben Miller back just as hard as the bastard tries to squeeze him after the back slapping. “Everything okay?” He asks that quietly, since you have company and you don’t know about what happened in South America.

“Yeah.” Benny nods like a bobble head, immediately ready to reassure his friend. His brother. “He’s back. Brought Yovanna with him. He was texting around for a ride and a place to crash.”

“Holy shit, he found her.” He had his private doubts about tracking the lover he had sent to Australia down, but he’s happy for Pope. “And you decided to play Uber.”

Benny grins, wide and unapologetic, before standing aside with a flourish. “Special delivery!”

The shorter man grins but he doesn’t rush to embrace Frankie. A little unsure of how he will be greeted, but Frankie bursts out laughing “Cabron!” He huffs, lunging forward and wrapping his arms around his brother in arms.

“Feo.” Pope returns the hug easily, not caring that he holds his best friend a moment longer these days than he might have before. Shit’s changed, after all. “You remember Yovanna?” He knows that everything about that trip is burned into Frankie’s brain just like the other guys, but it seems the polite way to go about reintroducing them.

She seems nervous, hesitant. He knows that Pope had to have told her what happened to Tom. "Sure." He nods and flashes her a smile before he moves out of the doorway. "Come in. Please."

"Lotta cars here..." Pope observes, though 'a lot' is only two besides the cars that are supposed to be here.

"We'll see you guys tomorrow." Benny waves as he jogs back to his truck. Everybody is with family today and that includes him, because Will is the only member of this damn group that can cook worth a damn somewhere other than a grill.

“Thanks Ben!” He knows that Mira can sleep in the bassinet in your bedroom and he can pull down the Murphy Bed you both had decided to keep in there for those late, rough nights with the baby. “Take your shit up to the bedroom next to mine.” He tells him with a smirk. “I’ll let my mother know you are here.”

"Nessa's here?" Pope brightens measurably as he whisks Yovanna into the house. "Christmas with the fam, man. I'm telling you. This is going to be great."

He snorts as he closes the door. Hopefully this won’t make you feel even more overwhelmed than you already have been.

"Frankie!" You call from the kitchen, and he can hear shuffling chairs and footsteps. "Who is it, honey?"

“Well, uh—”

“Hoooooooney, I’m hooooome.” In typical, dramatic fashion, Pope swoops into the room with a broad grin, although he’s not directing it at you since you might actually hit him for that shit earlier this year. Instead, he aims that charm at Vanessa. “I heard the most beautiful lady this side of the border was here and I had to come.”

"Aye, Santiago mijo!" After a lifetime of being best friends with her only son, Vanessa looked at Santiago Garcia as being the baby boy she never had. She disregards everything else in the room to go and hug him, but for a single moment you're actually grateful for that. It gives you the time you need to catch your breath after your heart stops at the sight of your husband's best friend. The one who supposedly was still in Australia.

“There she is!” Pope shoots you a quick glance and an even quicker wink before he is folding Frankie’s mom into a tight hug. He knows that you and your mother-in-law don’t get along, and hopefully you won’t kick him out on his ass in exchange for distracting her from harassing you.

Immediately, Vanessa is fawning over Santi instead of picking on the fact that you haven’t dressed your baby girl specifically in pink. It’s so much of a relief to see him alive and well in your kitchen that you barely register anything else — and it takes you a second before you register the gorgeous woman standing anxiously in the doorway. Mira tucks her little face against your shoulder at the sight of a stranger, but you just at your daughter’s back and gently step closer. “You must be Yovanna?”

"Sí, I mean, yes." She knows that you and Frankie speak Spanish, but she also knows that she's in the United States, so practicing speaking English is necessary. Her eyes flicker between you and Frankie before she nods. "You must be the wife that is the best thing that ever happened to Francisco." After Pope had found her again, he had started telling her everything that he couldn't before. The flight from Australia filled with stories and names. "You're not Molly, right?" She asks, embarrassed that your name isn't quite coming to her. "That was the rude one's wife."

You tell her your name and disregard the comment about Tom because it’s accurate. You and Redfly never got along but you do try to respect the dead, so you won’t badmouth him now. “We’ll introduce you to Molly tomorrow, if you and Santi are going to be around. We always do a post-holiday thing with the team.”

"I think we are going to find a house?" She admits, shrugging slightly because she doesn't really mind where she is. As long as her brother is safe and she gets to be with Santiago. "That is what he was talking about."

“I’m glad to hear it.” To have him nearby and settled will do wonders for Frankie. He’s missed Pope and missed having his lifelong best friend close at hand. As much as you love each other and as much as you will always work to keep each other supported and happy, there is a part of him that isn’t quite full or right without Pope around. It’s the same way you feel about your own best friend. “Well, um…” Taking a second to grin at your bashful daughter, you turn slightly so the baby can see Yovanna over your shoulder. “This is Mirabel. She’s princess of the palace, and just…welcome. Merry Christmas. Dinner is in the oven and there’s plenty to drink.”

"I am sorry for intruding." She offers, smiling at the baby. "I hope it is not too much?"

“The team is family.” And sometimes family can be exhausting. Sometimes family can be troublesome. But family means doing the work. Which is exactly why you didn’t tell your parents to get stuffed over hosting this Christmas even though you’re exhausted and overwhelmed. “At the holidays, family is always welcome,” you tell her with certainty.

"He did not know how you would accept him." She admits softly, happy that he had been wrong about you being put off by him bringing your husband into the mess he had. "But it is good you have not had any problems since Lorea was killed."

“We haven’t,” you assure her quietly. “It’s the secret that we keep to make sure the boys are safe, and thankfully we have been safe.” For Santi? You can only shake your head and shrug while you bounce Mira in your arms. “I’ve over being upset with him, though it did take a while. Now? I’m just glad you’re both safe. That my husband came home to me. And that he won’t be doing anything like that ever again.”

“I understand.” She agrees. “It was stupid for them, for me. But at least they are home safe now.”

“Our families don’t know anything about it,” you tell her, not admitting for the moment that all you know is the name Lorea and that people had died. Two facts which Frankie had only told you so you could gauge your own safety if you were ever approached by someone who claimed to know him or know about what happened on that mission. You hadn’t asked more and he hadn’t offered, and since you had still been upset with him for going at all, it had never been brought up again.

Yovanna tilts her head in curiosity but she doesn’t comment on it. It’s very obvious that you don’t know the details and she doesn’t think that it’s her place to tell you about it. “Is there anything I can do to help?” She asks. “Since we are showing up unannounced.”

“Get settled and help yourself to a drink or an appetizer,” you offer, motioning to the small table on the other side of the kitchen counter. It’s where you and Frankie usually eat, especially with it being easy for placing Mira’s high chair, but tonight dinner will be served in the formal dining room. Which makes the little kitchen table a perfect apps-and-drinks table. “Welcome.” There will be plenty to talk about. More than plenty. But right now you refocus your attention. It’s time to give Mira a bottle and set her down for a nap, which will hopefully mean that she sleeps through the setting of the table and even the eating of dinner.

Everyone has been chatting, or at least Santiago has been distracting his mother while your father and Javi chat amiably. Your mother is fusing with something, one of the sides you had already prepared. Tasting it and adding something to it. He wants to stop her, but then he will just be told he doesn’t know what he’s doing in the kitchen, so he decides to not fight that battle today.

"I'm going to feed Mira," you tell Frankie as you slip past him in the kitchen. It will be a much-needed moment of relative quiet and you aren't going to pass it up. "I'll just go upstairs so I can feed her and put her down without fussing with a bottle. Is that okay?"

“You do that, babe.” He reaches out and squeezes your shoulder supportively. “I’ll try to keep everyone from killing each other.” It’s a large task, but hopefully he will be able to do it.

"Santi can help." It's not a suggestion that will take much pressing. Your quiet, introspective husband's best friend is a magnet for attention even without trying. "I'll be back down in a little bit. If you need me sooner, I have my phone on me. Just send an SOS text."

"I won't need it." He promises foolishly, unaware that the mothers will start in on him individually just as soon as he walks back into the kitchen.

"Good luck," you hum under your breath, before whisking your daughter off up the stairs.

"Francisco, be a dear and run this upstairs." Your mother's purse, one that she had earlier insisted that she needed to keep on her, now needs to be put in her room. She waggles the bag at him impatiently when he doesn't immediately jump to take it.

"She can do that, can't she?" Vanessa looks around, not even using your name to refer to you, and frowns after a moment. "Where did she go, Frankie? She should be taking care of her guests."

"She's feeding Mira, mama." He explains. "You remember what it's like to have a hungry, tired baby." He frowns slightly at her and takes the purse. "I'll take it upstairs, it's not a problem."

"So she took her away to feed her?" Vanessa clutches the pearls she isn't wearing. "One of us could have easily given her a bottle! She's teaching our granddaughter to hate us right away. Pobrecita Mirabel."

"She's breastfeeding." He huffs out. "Plus, she's putting her to bed."

"We're mothers too." To Frankie's surprise, your own mother chimes in, in support of Vanessa's viewpoint. "We can give a bottle just as easily as anyone else."

The look that your father shoots Frankie is apologetic at best but he says nothing, only drinks from his glass and turns to say something to Santiago, whom he vaguely remembers from your wedding. It's just about the least helpful atmosphere in the world but at least he isn't adding to the fire.

He shakes his head and doesn’t point out the glaringly obvious fact that if you are sticking your boob in his daughter’s mouth, then they couldn’t just as easily fed her, but it’s not worth the argument. Instead he turns around and hustles upstairs to deposit the bag at the foot of their guest bedroom.

It isn't exactly an ideal day. For anyone, it seems. But the only way out is through so he heads right back downstairs again once that is taken care of. When he comes back to the kitchen it's your father at the stove that catches his eye this time, but again Frankie doesn't say anything on that point. There's no use rocking the boat. Not now that his stepfather has most of the room entertained with a work story and no one is complaining at the moment.

"Oh damn." Your mother huffs, waggling the bottle. " We are out of wine." She raises her eyebrows at Frankie. "Will you be a dear and get another?"

"Is there another?" His mother asks, as if it was necessary to make the request any more irritating.

"Of course, mama." The implication that you didn't prepare well for today doesn't sit well with him, and Frankie heads straight out to the garage to get more of the wine that had been specifically bought for today.

You had bought an entire case. The sight of it makes Frankie smirk with pride. "That's my girl." He hums as he grabs another bottle. Hopefully this means that both mothers will get drunk enough that they won't be able to nitpick you.

It's a hope, as in vain as it might be, and when Frankie goes back into the house he finds things much as he left them. He refills both mothers' wine glasses and then ends up fetching the scotch from the den again for the fathers. It's constant back and forth, not able to sit and talk to Pope or to Yovanna, or even remember where he puts his own drink while he makes sure everyone else is settled.

"Goddamn." He mutters to himself. It's almost as if it's coordinated. Like a family who keeps a server running for their table by requesting something new every time they come back.

And it stays that way until the second you come back downstairs, baby monitor in hand, and sniff the air with a growing look of horror and panic on your face. "Shit. Shit!" You race to the oven with tears already stinging your eyes to find smoke and the smell of burning food coming from your finnicky, ill-behaved oven.

“What?” Frankie rushes back from den where he had been sent to dig out the bottle of bitters after Javi offered to make his father-in-law the best old fashioned he had ever drank. The bottle had been pushed to very back of the cabinet where the liquor was locked up and he had been half convinced it had been thrown out. “What’s wrong?”

"This!" When you drop the oven door open, a cartoonish cloud of smoke billows out. The once gorgeous-looking beef Wellington that you took such tender care to assemble is blackened beyong recognition when you pull the pan out and let it drop onto the stove top like a brick.

It's ruined. Completely and entirely. And you can feel your mother-in-law watching you while she picks out her preferred insult.

“Shit.” Frankie knows how much you have been anticipating this dinner. You hadn’t specifically said to look in on the damn thing but he feels guilty. “Babe, I’m so sorry.”

"I don't know how—" With your shoulders hunched and tears making your voice wobble, you pull the other pan out of the oven to find that the potatoes are scorched as well. Half of dinner is completely ruined. "I've made this a dozen times before!" Sure your oven isn't the best, but replacing it is expensive and you have just learned to live with how it cooks. But nothing like this has ever happened before. "How? How did this happen?"

“Well, you had the oven set to low.” Your mother offers and Vanessa nods. “You cannot possibly cook your little beef thing when it is set so low.” Your mother-in-law adds most helpfully. “I noticed it and asked your mother, so we turned it up for you. I’m sure that you are just too overwhelmed with things to have noticed.”

“It was set low on purpose.” You turn again, this time look at the temperature setting on the oven, and feel yourself deflate when the digital read out says 425F. “Our oven runs hot,” you explain to them, so upset that you’re physically shaking while tears stain your cheeks. They push in and they treat you like shit and then they ruin things and yet they’re still acting like you’re the one who is incompetent. “If you had just asked, I would have told you why it was set low. You’ve essentially set my oven to over 500 degrees and burnt half of dinner because you didn’t think i knew what I was doing.”

“How was I supposed to know?” Your mother gives you a bewildered hurt expression and covers her heart like you are attacking her. Frankie moves over to you and sighs softly as he sees the burnt remnants of the meal you had worked so hard on. “Why have you bought a new oven?” She demands. “Your husband is a pilot. He should be taking care of these things.”

“You should have asked, Mom.” But of course she didn’t. Your mother is the queen of that ‘Mother Knows Best’ attitude and has never admired to being wrong in your whole life. “Being a pilot doesn’t make him a millionaire, and we’ve got the baby. Life is expensive right now. We’ve been saving up like reasonable people.”

Vanessa bristles at the implication that there is something lacking in her baby boy but Santiago sees that as well and quickly steps in to distract her. “It’s being taken care of.” He assures your mother but she huffs and shakes her head. Which makes Vanessa snap her head to the side. “Don’t you dare think ill about Francisco.” She hisses. “He works all the time to make sure your daughter stays home. He’s working himself to death.” Frankie rolls his eyes. “Mama. Stop.” He ordered, feeling like this is getting out of hand. “It’s true. You don’t think I know you called Javi to borrow money?” She demands.

"I work from home, Vanessa. I don't sit around on my ass all day doing nothing!" True that you took your maximum maternity leave, but you had damn well needed it. Postpartum healing took its toll and the depression that went with it had hit you hard. And after Frankie had come back with so many secrets? Well, it's not as if your home life is all sunshine and roses right now.

"Then why does—"

"It doesn't matter why, Mom. It's only our business." None of them need to know about what happened with Frankie's license or anything else. It's not as though they have ever offered to help or support you before so you're not about to share your troubles with them now.

“But—”

“ENOUGH!” Frankie nearly bellows the order, making your mother jump and snap her mouth shut, eyes wide in near fear. Your father looks down at his glass guiltily and even his own mother gasps as she presses a hand to her chest. Only Javi looks somewhat amused by the entire thing, a small smirk of approval twisting his lips. “I don’t give a damn that you drove for hours or flew here to see us for Christmas.” He seethes. “This is our house and I am not going to put up with you mistreating my wife.” His eyes narrow as he turns towards his mother and then towards his mother-in-law. “Either one of you. You don’t like it? Leave.” His tone is stony and flat, leaving no room for argument.

Pope and Yovanna are dead silent in the corner, not willing to meddle in family drama when they've only just arrived, and three of the four parents exchange appalled looks.

"We didn't raise you to be so disrespectful." Your mother snaps, standing from her chair with steam practically pouring out of her ears. "Or to be a terrible cook. Go get our things. We're going to a hotel until you come to your senses."

“Go get them your goddamn self.” Frankie snaps back. “And you aren’t welcomed back until you apologize to her.” That’s one set of parents he’s pissed of completely, so he turns to his mom. “Mama? You gonna be nice or is it gonna be more passive aggressive bullshit comments? Because if it is, you can get the fuck out too.”

"I have never made a passive aggressive comment about--" she begins, but Javier actually laughs at her pious pearl clutching.

"Nessa, that's all you've said to your poor daughter-in-law for years." He tells her bluntly. "Come on. I'll get our stuff." Vanessa looks absolutely appalled, but Javier just shrugs. "Prove me wrong," he insists. "Apologize."

Frankie waits, brows raised and he actually hopes for a moment that his mother will apologize. Her mouth opens and she starts talking, making his heart sink.

“She should—”

“Nope.” He cuts her off, a disappointed look on his face. “I should have put my foot down years ago. That’s my fault. Until you apologize to her, and mean it, you aren’t welcomed in our lives.” He tells her, even though it breaks his heart. “You’re my mother and I love you. But this is my wife. The woman I vowed to spend the rest of my life with. The woman I love. You would have never put up with the kind of shit you give her out of Javi’s dad.” He reminds her. “And I’m done having her cry when you leave.” He nods towards the door. “Merry Christmas. Now I’d like you to leave.”

The stone-silent kitchen is a staring contest for long moments while Frankie’s mother realizes that her son is actually giving her an ultimatum. With a dramatic huff, she pushes out of her seat and storms to the door, shouting something about how his sister would never treat her like this. She shouts so loud that the sound of the baby crying bleeds through the baby monitor and cuts down the stairwell, but when you let out your own wretched, exhausted sob, Frankie stops you.

“I’ve got her.” He promises, reaching out and holding onto your shoulders. “I want you to pour yourself a big glass of wine and go upstairs and get into a bath.” He knows how much you love to soak in the tub, but you haven’t had much of a chance to do that since Mirabel was born. “I’ll take care of everything.”

"I have to figure out what the hell to make for dinner," you insist, intermittently glancing back between Pope and Yovanna, and toward the stairs where your baby girl is screaming.

“I’ll handle it.” Frankie implores, lifting his brows. “Trust me, baby. Go upstairs. I’ve got this.”

"I'm so sorry." The entire day has collapsed and it feels like it's your fault. Despite the fact that you were actively sabotaged and abused for the last hour – only an hour! – it still feels like you failed.

“It’s not your fault.” This comes from Javier, sighing softly as he glances at the two of you. Your mother and father are still upstairs, rummaging around after leaving the kitchen quietly in the face of Frankie’s ultimatum. “Don’t be sorry. Let your husband take care of you.” He looks at his step-son. “I’ll read her the riot act.” He promises.

"You're the only one I wish could stay," you admit to your father-in-law with a deflated shrug, but lean into your husband's side for a moment and just breathe Frankie in. "Okay. I'm going to have a wine bath. Whatever else we end up doing for dinner, there's a huge salad in the refrigerator and a tray of Christmas cookies in the pantry."

“Okay.” He kisses the top of your head before he pulls away to grab the monitor. “Big glass of wine.” He reminds you before he looks over at Pope and Yovanna. “You two good?”

"We're good." Pope nods, but he's already out of his chair and moving to wash his hands. Even after being gone for a few years, he still knows this house and these people as well as anything else in the world. "Go take care of your baby girl. We'll be ready to help when you get back."

“Thanks man.” He nods towards Javi and then rushes out of the room. “Daddy’s coming, Mira.” He calls out. “It’s okay.”

"It's...not usually like this." It's the best you can do to reassure Yovanna when you come out of the pantry again with a bottle of your preferred white wine and a large glass. That bottled sangria that Vanessa likes is garbage, no matter what she pretends.

“It is okay.” She promises. “Family can be difficult.” She smiles, knowing how often her brother puts her in hard situations.

"I'll...be back in a little bit." The idea of a glass of wine in a bath is basically unheard of in your life now and it's something you used to do at least once a week. The chance to relax and feel like you get to start the day over again is incredibly welcome.

"Take your time, hermana." Pope insists. "Take the bottle with you, if you want. We've got this."

With Mira, Frankie has her up on his shoulder, rocking her soothingly. “It’s okay. Shhhhhhh shhhhhhh.” He shushes softly, angry at his mother for not caring about waking his daughter up. She hiccups and starts to quiet down, not needing a bottle or a diaper, just some comfort. “It’s gonna be alright.” He promises, to both her and himself.

He can hear you in the hallway, light steps on the way to the master bathroom so that you don’t make more noise and disturb Mirabel any more than she already is.

It doesn’t take long for her to fall back asleep, although he spends precious minutes carefully laying her back down and making sure she stays asleep. Smiling softly when she shoves her thumb in her mouth as she sleeps. He creeps out of the room and back downstairs as he hears the water start to run from the master en-suite.

“Okay.” Pope is standing in the kitchen with a tied off trash bag sitting near the garage door and the two pans formerly full of burned food now scraped out and refilled with steaming, soapy water. “What’s the plan?” He asks, nodding to Yovanna beside him. “What can we do to help?”

“I’ve got some steaks in the freezer.” It’ll only take twenty minutes to thaw them. “If you want to go fire up the grill, I’ll pull them out.”

"Heard that." Thankfully the stunning Florida weather guarantees a warm Christmas with perfect grilling weather, and Pope heads outside immediately. He can have that grilled fired up and ready in no time.

"I can help, too." Yovanna insists. She would feel awful to not help out under any circumstances, but especially now. "Anything, Francisco. I'm happy to."

“There’s salad, but I know there’s also a carton of mushrooms.” Frankie explains. “Will you slice them and an onion to sauté?” He asks. “She loves onions and mushrooms on her steak.”

"Absolutely." A relatively small task that will make all the difference to someone who is having a hard day? She is more than happy to do what he asks. The three of them set to work immediately and within half an hour the smell of burnt pastry and potatoes is replaced with grill smoke and sauteed aromatics.

You come downstairs in clean, comfortable clothes with a glass of wine in your system, smelling like a bath bomb and looking like you're just starting a brand new day. When Yovanna is in the kitchen with a sautee pan instead of Frankie or Pope, you have to sit with your embarrassment for a moment.

"I'm sorry for...before. That wasn't the first impression that I wanted to make."

“The men are outside.” She tells you with a smile. “The salad looks gorgeous but Francisco said you like onions and mushrooms on your steak.” She explains. “And do not worry. I am just happy that you look more relaxed now.”

"Much." You huff out a laugh, feeling sheepish about the whole thing. "Families at the holidays..."

"Are always pretending to get along?" She laughs. "It is the same everywhere."

"Well...thank you, again." If you knew her better you might go so far as to give her the giant hug of gratitude that you would like to, but that will keep for later in the day. For now the two of you exchange knowing smiles about how ridiculous families can be and you go out the sliding door to the patio where Frankie and Santi are standing at the grill inspecting the image of your sleeping daughter on the baby monitor.

“I’m telling you man, she’s gonna be a problem when she gets older.” Pope huffs. “We need to start scaring away the boys now.”

"What if she grows up to like girls?" Of course they're already in protective mode. That doesn't surprise you in the least. "Or maybe she won't want romance at all. Anything is possible."

“Yeah but the boys can get her pregnant.” He points out, lifting a brow at Frankie’s immediate frown. “Well that’s not happening since she’s going to stay a virgin.” The overly protective father scoffs.

"She's going to be educated on her body and consent, and she's going to have the unwavering support of her parents," you correct them both. But there is still a soft smile on your face when you tuck yourself under Frankie's arm. "And if all else fails, she has Uncle Pope, Uncle Ironhead, and Uncle Benny to scare off anyone who doesn't respect her."

“What about me?” Frankie huffs as he settles his arm at your waist and hauls you closer. You look relaxed, and he’s glad. “How are you feeling, baby?” He asks.

"A little better. Pretty stupid, but better." When you lean into his chest he presses a kiss to your hair and you sigh. "Think our mothers are ever actually going to apologize?"

“If they don’t, we will have peace.” His eyes slip closed and he smiles slightly. “The dream.” He jokes before he opens his eye and looks at you seriously. “They will eventually. When they realize we are serious.”

"No contact with all of our parents except Javier." Another huffed laugh from you ends in a sigh. "Merry Christmas, I guess. Is it bad that I feel relieved?"

“We are having Christmas ribeye’s, with that salad you made, you can have your onions and mushrooms, and I know you have those rolls in there.” He grins. “Washed down with your wine and Christmas cookies.”

"Well...Mira is having a bottle the rest of the day anyway. No reason not to enjoy." With your arms around his waist, you tug Frankie tighter and practically shudder with that sigh of relief that rocks out of you. "Thank you, baby. I know neither of us ever wanted it to come to that with our parents, but thank you for stepping in. And for taking care of things afterward."

“Of course.” He knows that your trust and faith in him has been shaken by the drug charges and then disappearing to South America, but he wants to rebuild it. “Anytime, baby. I love you.”

“I love you too.” That, thankfully, was never in doubt.

******

A year passes with so much incident that it is a task of its own to decide where to start when someone asks you 'what's been going on?'. Planning the next Christmas is easier simply because of logistics. Hosting doesn't feel daunting when the people who are coming to the house are supportive, helpful, and kind.

Dinner is a potluck this year, with all the boys from Frankie's unit bringing their partners. Even Benny has a girlfriend – one who promises she's capable of bringing more to a potluck than jarred salsa and bagged chips – and Frankie is once again going to grill ribeyes. New traditions are falling into place, but the fact is that you're actually looking forward to things this year instead of dreading them.

“Babe.” Frankie ducks into the kitchen to admire the new oven that he had delivered six months ago. “Do you want to do that mashed potato casserole you were talking about or do you want to do baked potatoes this year?”

"Why don't we do baked potatoes and we can put out a bar of toppings and stuff? I can throw some bacon in a pan and chop some scallions." Things are better. You're talking more. You're listening to each other and asking questions instead of assuming. Frankie even comes home early from work once every other week to look after Mira while you have therapy. It's helped your postpartum depression immensely.

“That sounds good.” He agrees, grinning at you. “Pope and Yovanna are going to bring the salad this time. She loves that dressing recipe you gave her.”

"It's a good one." Yovanna has fast become a close friend, joining the sisterhood you have with Teresa, and now with Benny's girlfriend Roseanne. "Everybody should be here pretty soon. I figured there was no use in pretending this is formal. We're all perfectly happy to sit around together and hang out."

“Have you heard anything?” He asks softly, aware that you might have some feelings about everything that went down last year.

"Only from Javier." Frankie's stepfather was the only one who had been in contact, and even that was respectfully sparse. "I've sent him some photos of Mira and he texted this morning to say Merry Christmas and that he hoped the package he sent got here in time."

Even though you have been remarkable about the silence, Frankie steps closer and folds you into his arms for a reassuring hug. “It’ll all work out, baby.” He promises. “I just love seeing you excited for Christmas.”

“It’s easier to be excited when I’m not dreading the arguments and insults.” You lean into him a little tighter and sigh. It’s shit that things had to blow up the way they did last year, but things are better now. You’re both happier. The boys are all back together and Pope had proposed to Yovanna at Thanksgiving. Will and Teresa are ecstatic about expecting their first kid together. Things are good. “I love you, baby. So much.”

“I love you too.” He murmurs softly, kissing your forehead. He had told you everything that had happened and while you were unhappy about it, you hadn’t held it against him. That’s the best gift he could have ever asked for. “Merry Christmas, baby.”

------ Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer

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