#everyone say thank you drunk maggie

[thatdesklamp]

Spring, 2007

more intrinsic warmth + gojo pov. This one is a little more salacious. I feel like a heathen. (nsfw, if that wasn’t evident) La la la la la

Satoru was seventeen when he first dreamt of you.

It was a weird dream, which he decided later was because of the heat: it was a spring heatwave, a sweltering April night, the air thick and sticky. Satoru liked the spring usually, as the school year slid to an end, leaving him with with all the freedom and the long days and the excuses for laziness. But when it was hot, it was too hot; especially since, like you always told him, his body ran far too warm. He was great in the winter, when he never needed more than one layer whilst you were bundling up with three, but in any extreme heat he was useless.

He had stripped off in bed, thrown the blankets down to bundle at his ankles, but his bare back still stuck to the bedsheet. When he rolled over onto his stomach, the sheet was damp with his sweat. Suguru had told him to lie on the floor without the mattress, but Satoru thought that was something he only said because he’d never slept right in his life. Satoru was raised with absolute care, and he was also raised with air conditioning. He wasn’t going to sleep on the floor, whatever Suguru said. Satoru had standards.

That was why it didn’t count. When he had the weird dream, it didn’t count, because his room was so hot and he was feeling so tired and he wasn’t himself.

 

---

 

In the dream, Satoru was sat in the Chapel, his back propped up against the wall he would lean against when he used to play Pokémon. He was playing Pokémon on his Game Boy Colour—which should have been his first indication that this was a dream, because he hadn’t played on that old thing since he was an actual child—and he was moving his character through Blackthorn City. The Chapel looked like it had when you were younger and still went there every day; nowadays, now you two weren’t so childish, you went there less and less. He played the game for a few minutes, and then he realised that there was a weight on his shoulder, and he stopped. Satoru looked down, and there you were.

You had your head on his shoulder. Looking back, Satoru would note this as the second weird thing, in the long list of very weird things. The third weird thing was that, in the dream, Satoru didn’t think that this was weird at all.

He didn’t think about how, in real life, you wouldn’t want to touch anyone, or put your head on anyone’s shoulder. He also didn’t think about how, in real life, you also wouldn’t want to touch him. Not the way you were touching him in the dream, at least.

In the dream, Satoru smiled. He noticed that his arm was already around you, and that he could splay his fingers around your waist if he wanted to. You felt warm, and in the dream, the feeling was familiar. He entertained himself with that for a few seconds, and then moved his hand up, skirting higher than your waist, around your ribs.

Then, curious, he moved his hand back down to feel the curve of your side, and then further down, down to your hips. You felt different, he noted, to the way his own body felt. He knew that was because you weren’t him—you were a girl, or a woman, which he’d only really noticed a few years ago. When you were both kids, your respective genders hadn’t been a thought at all. But then you both got older, and he became aware of it, and now it was something he had to think about. And Satoru was aware of it, now. He had that thought in the dream, and later, he would realise what it had meant, because he’d thought the same in real life, too.

But it was nice, to feel. He liked touching you.

Your head moved on his shoulder. Satoru would remember this as a pivotal moment, not just in what happened, but how he had felt with your head resting on his shoulder. He had not felt guilty, then; not the way he later felt, when he woke, panting and sweaty and achingly hot. It had been normal, in the dream, for him to be touching you like that.

So, he hadn’t stopped. Satoru’s hand stayed lazily at your hip as you stirred. Then, he realised that you weren’t asleep at all: in fact, you were just as awake as he was, and you were watching his hand move on your body with a smile playing around your lips.

You looked up at him, eyes glinting. It was a smile he recognised: Satoru knew all of your smiles, each and every one. This was one of his favourites, and one of the rarest. You looked mischievous, slightly sly, and the expression sent heat coursing through him in a way that was both familiar and new.

“You could’ve just asked,” you said. You shifted from his side, and Satoru opened his mouth to protest. You clicked your tongue and placed one gloved finger against his lips. Satoru fell silent, and your lips curled up. There was anticipation, now: excitement. He knew what was coming, and he wanted it from you.

“Could I really?” Satoru asked, as he reached out to touch you again. His hands found your ass, and he grinned at you, tugging you closer.

You laughed at that, and he marvelled at how easily he could make you laugh, here. Satoru spent all of his days trying to make you laugh—it didn’t come easily, so he savoured each time like he’d never see it again.

But you just swatted him on the chest, playful, and he took the touch as encouragement. Satoru kept one hand on your ass—which he liked being able to touch, he realised, or he just knew, because in this dream he had clearly done this before—and moved the other to skirt the underside of your shirt. Your skin was burning hot, and so soft. He slipped his hand under your the fabric, and felt the dip of your back, how it arched under his touch, responsive, and then higher, to the material of your bra strap. Lace—

“Eager!” You laughed again—so easily! Satoru liked this, he definitely liked this—and gave him that cunning, knowing look again. And then you had swung one leg over his, and you were sitting in his lap, hard and directly on top of him. Satoru inhaled, sharp and surprised and aroused. Your hands had moved to his shoulders, resting there, steadying yourself. You let out a soft noise, like you had surprised yourself, but that blazing look was still in your eye, and Satoru was staring.

He could feel you: the insides of your thighs were pressing against him, and his pulse was starting to quicken. You shifted your weight, moving to the side just the smallest amount, but the movement was enough to make Satoru hiss.

“Did I do something?” you asked, eyes going wide. Your eyelashes looked long, and they fanned across your cheeks.

You knew what the answer was, and Satoru knew that you did. You moved again, this time deliberately grinding down on him, and Satoru tilted his head back against the Chapel wall and focused on breathing.

You knew what you were doing to him: it was another one of those moments you had, when he could read exactly what you were thinking, and when you could do the same for him. It usually made him nervous, that you could tell so much about what he was thinking without him even knowing it, but here he was just exhilarated.

“Hebi,” Satoru said, his voice half-choked. He heard what he said, and frowned—later, he would understand that he was on the cusp of breaking from the dream, and that saying your name had almost pushed him over the edge—but then, when your thumb moved to brush his bottom lip, he shook off any reservations.

You hummed, and dipped your head down to his neck. Your lips pressed there, burning hot, and Satoru groaned. He felt your tongue, how you kissed and licked up his throat, and he gripped tighter onto you. You moved your hips against him, and pleasure was growing there, exactly where he could feel you, where he wanted to feel you.

“Hebi,” he said again. This time, his voice was whispered, like a plea. “Hebi. Hebi.”

“I’m here,” you said back, your breath hot against his lips. “I’m right here, Satoru.”

A ragged moan was torn from his chest. His name. He loved it when you said his name—he loved it now, as he watched your lips move around it, the way your lips pursed at the end, like a kiss.

Like you knew what he was thinking, you said it again.  

“Satoru. Satoru, touch me, Satoru.”

He wanted to: you wanted him to. He explored your bare skin, hand still underneath your shirt—that was his shirt, he realised. You were wearing his shirt! It was a t-shirt that fit normally on him, but it was too big for you, and it fell to just skim the tops of your thighs.

He loved it, the sight of you, of you on top of him, your lips round and soft, you wearing his shirt that was far too big for you. He wanted to take it off, but he also wanted to keep it like this: Satoru liked you wearing his clothes. He realised it in the moment, but of course he did! In the dream, you wore his clothes all the time.

Of course! The first time had been a few months ago: you had arrived at his house in the middle of the night, fresh from an incident with your family that you refused to go into detail about, and you had been blinking back tears when you had asked him if you could stay the night. You hadn’t had to ask: Satoru would have never turned you away, not ever. But Yahaba had been washing the pyjamas he kept at his house, and so you’d shrugged and walked into his room, so carefree, and picked out a t-shirt of his that had looked the biggest.

“I’ll wear this,” you had said, casual. Satoru hadn’t known what to say. He was too consumed with this new, fresh idea of you wearing his clothes, and what you would look like in them, and whether you would do it more, and he had just about managed to crack a smile and make some joke, passing it off like it was nothing.

Now, though, it wasn’t nothing. The shirt was large, and it hung low about the neckline, exposing your collarbone and the shadow of your breasts. You moved your hips down against him, this time even harder. Satoru’s fingers fisted in the bottom of the shirt, tugging you towards him.

The friction was good, and Satoru was certain that it was only made better that he got to feel you moving against him. He realised with a wave of arousal that your legs were bare, and that other than his clothes, the only thing separating your bodies was the thin strip of your underwear. And that you were doing this to him and that you wanted this, that this was good for you, too. Satoru wanted that desperately, and recognising it was staggering; Satoru wanted you to feel good, and he wanted to be the one to make you feel good.

He gripped your thighs, hard, and then almost lost control completely when you moaned against his neck. Your head dropped down to his shoulder, and he could feel your hot gasps right near his ear. It hit him that you were trying to say his name, just choked-off syllables, like the only thing you could think of was his name—his first name, Satoru. Encouraged, he pulled you down against him, controlling the movement of your hips, and both of you gasped together.

Closer, Satoru wanted. He wanted more, more of you. He felt your bra strap again and he undid it with one hand expertly, which of course he knew how to do, even though he had never been able to do that before.

The snap of your bra against your skin made you gasp, high and breathy. Satoru sucked in a breath. There was another noise he wanted to hear again: your laugh, and this. He moved his hand from your back, to the front of you, where he really wanted to touch now. When his fingers brushed your breasts, your eyes fluttered closed.

“Satoru,” you were saying, with every roll of your hips, with every rise and fall of your chest. He felt you breathing, he felt it as you shook against him when his thumb rubbed over your burning skin. “Satoru. Satoru, please… please, touch me more.”

“You want me to?” His voice was ragged: you had made his voice ragged.

“Please. Please, Satoru, it feels good, you make me feel so good—“

Satoru bit down on his lip, hard. You never spoke like this—he didn’t know that he wanted you to speak like this, but he was hard against you, painfully hard. It would have been embarrassing, but Satoru couldn’t feel that, could only focus on how much he wanted you to say that again.

Satoru spoke in a rasp, his head spinning. “I do?”

“So good.” Your hands were on his shoulders, his neck, his jaw, his chest, touching him everywhere. Every movement of your hand left searing impressions in its wake, and Satoru wanted you branded onto him.

“You—” Satoru shuddered, visceral, as he felt your hands tug at his shirt, try to pull it up. “You feel good too—“

Now he wanted your shirt off. He wanted to see, not just touch, and he wanted to put his mouth on you, the way your mouth was on him. He wanted to make you gasp like that again, and he wanted to feel you underneath him, and he wanted you, he wanted you to touch him, touch him harder, harder, harder until—

 

 

--

 

Satoru awoke, gasping.

His mattress cover was damp again, and when he looked down he realised it was uncomfortable and sticky. Satoru grimaced, and wiped his palms on the sheet. He stared up at the ceiling, and tried to will his heart to stop racing.

Satoru had had dreams like that before, obviously. But, shit, he’d never had them about you before. He had never dreamed about you so vividly, with his subconscious piecing so many half-moments together to make… whatever the hell that was.

Like the time you had borrowed his t-shirt a few months ago, or the time when you had fallen asleep on a pillow beside him and he had wondered what he could do to make you rest your head on his shoulder instead, or all those times you had called him by his first name.

He breathed in, but the air didn’t seem good enough. It was hot, and too humid, and Satoru decided that there wasn’t enough oxygen, what with all of that water floating about.

Yes: it was the heat. Besides, Satoru had heard stories of people going crazy when they got heatstroke, or whatever. It was probably something like that. It didn’t mean anything. Maybe it was just an unconscious side of his brain realising that he’d been spending so much of his time with a really, really pretty girl, and it had only just caught up to deliver the normal, maybe-weird reactions to it.

And it wasn’t as if he hadn’t considered you like that before—sure he had, kind of. Satoru was convinced that he’d be weirder to not have. You were his best friend, and he spent all of his time with you; there was one time before your big fight, and he’d not really known what to make of it, and then after, when it was like he hadn’t seen you in months, when he asked you to be his friend again. It was raining, that night, and he must have woken you up, because you were in your soft cotton pyjamas, and the shorts had ridden up on your thighs, and you hadn’t been wearing a bra, and of course Satoru had noticed. He was a guy. It didn’t mean anything, he’d known, but he also hadn’t told Suguru about it. Satoru didn’t know why he hadn’t. Something itched at him, uncomfortable.

But it hasn’t meant anything! Just how it didn’t mean anything now.

It was just the heat. It didn’t matter about anything else: he’d had a weird dream, but it wasn’t like he needed to tell you about it. You wouldn’t be able to guess, would you?

Guiltily, an image flickered across Satoru’s mind before he could stop it: the sight of you above him, your bare legs hardly covered by the long t-shirt, the purse of your lips as you said his name. Satoru pushed it away. What was he doing, thinking about you all weird like that?

This was the worst time for something like that to happen, too; it was almost a year since his and Suguru’s mission, and so it was almost a year since he had apologised, and since you had both been trying to be friends again. Friends.

Friends. It didn’t help, this. Satoru had thought you two were getting better, and even if it wasn’t exactly like it was before, it was close, really close. He wanted you in his life. He always had.

Satoru turned to the side, and then wrinkled his nose as he remembered that he needed to change his sheets.

He bunched them into a ball, and then chucked them into the laundry basket he kept in the corner of his room. He looked back at his mattress, and decided that, fuck it. Suguru was probably right. With a grunt, Satoru managed to pull it off the bedframe and onto the floor. Then, deciding that the heat wouldn’t win against him, he lay down on the mattress and tried to get to sleep.

1-1 to me, he thought, to the heat. Fresh slate. We can forget about everything, then.

 

--

 

 

You were knocking at his door.

“Hnrggh—“ Satoru blinked in the light, everything blinding and bright as it usually was. He patted on his bedside table for his glasses, then remembered he was lying on the floor. Satoru rolled out of bed and bumped his forehead on the floor, shoved his glasses onto his face, then rooted around the ground and pulled on some boxers. If it was Suguru, he’d be fine like this, because who cares? But it was you, he recognised the way you knock, and so he’d got to find a shirt—where was his shirt?—shit, last night. Shit.

Satoru stumbled to a halt. He couldn’t see you like this, after last night.

What if—and it wouldn’t be him, it would just be his body, which wouldn’t be him at all, just normal teenage instincts—he saw you and started remembering the dream? And if he remembered the dream, he’d get a hard-on way too fast, and then he’d be standing in front of you like that, and Satoru couldn’t deal with it. You were friends. That would be fucking weird, for friends to do.

Again, it was weird for friends to dream about having doing some strange dry-humping-slash-groping sex, but he had already rationalised that it was just the heat and normal teenage instincts, so that dream didn’t count.  

“Gojo,” you called. “Gojo! Wake up.”

Satoru, his brain supplied, unhelpfully.

“Ah—one second, Hebi-Hebi!”

He pulled on some jogging bottoms, threw on a scruffy shirt, and then, scrapped for time, used Blue to make the door fly open.

“Finally. You’re impossible to wake—”

“Good morning!” Satoru said, taking a theatrical bow. “Good morning, everyone!”

You stared at him, blankly. “What?”

“It’s my audience. I’m saying thank you and good morning.”

“You don’t have an audience.”

“Sure I do. I’ve got you, haven’t I?”

“Not for long.” You sent him a glower, and Satoru felt his stomach flip. “You forgot to give me those worksheets for class today.”

“Oh!” Satoru did, actually, forget. You’d wanted them in yesterday, but then he had been hanging out with Suguru in the evening when you went off to chat with Shoko, and by the time he’d gotten back it was too late to do anything. “Why didn’t you remind me, Hebi-Hebi?”

Your nose crinkled. Satoru had to admit that it was pretty cute, objectively.

“I did remind you,” you said. “All of yesterday. C’mon, Gojo, how are you so irresponsible?”

“I’m not! I’m the most responsible person you’ve ever met.”

“Don’t make me laugh.”

Would you? he thought, traitorously. Would you laugh for me, again?

You tutted, pretending to be unimpressed, and then you glanced down at the floor. You frowned. “Why isn’t your mattress on the bed?”

“It—was hot.” Satoru knew he blurted it out too quickly, and that you noticed, because you always did, with him.

There was a torturous moment of silence where Satoru was convinced you had figured it all out and that he was ruined and you would never want to speak to him ever again, but then you said: “I thought you had that superiority complex thing. You know. With Geto, and the mattresses.”

“You heard about that?”

You hummed. “You must’ve told me.”

Satoru didn’t think he had. He was too focused on inconspicuously wiping his hands on the backs of his jogging bottoms without you noticing.

You noticed. Your eyebrows furrowed, and then your gaze slipped from his hands, to his backwards shirt, then to the balled-up bedsheet by the wall, and finally landing on the half-empty bottle of hand lotion Satoru had bought a few months ago, because he kept thinking that his then-girlfriend didn’t want to hold his hand because the skin was so rough.

You looked back up at him, and Satoru was certain you could see the flicker of panic on his face. You groaned, loudly and in disgust, and covered your eyes with your gloved hands.

Satoru’s heart skipped with fear. No, he couldn’t ruin it with you, not when he’d barely even—

“Gojo!” You peered back at him through your fingers, and Satoru realised with a jolt that you weren’t disgusted, you were embarrassed. “Just tell me not to come in if you’re—oh, eugh!”

Satoru’s lips parted in confusion. What? And then—

Oh! Satoru felt a heavy weight slide right off his chest, and suddenly he was light as a bird! You just thought he was jerking off! Yes—what a win!

Satoru could deal with this. He could even turn this in his favour, the way he always was trying to with you.

He grinned at you and leaned forward, bending at the hips with his hands still behind him. “What, you embarrassed?”

Your lips pinched tight together. “Shut up.”

“It’s a normal bodily response, Hebi-Hebi,” he said, delighting at your growing mortification. “I’m seventeen! And, hey, it’s not just guys who would enjoy—”

“Oh my god—”

“—so you should we congratulating me!”

Satoru beamed at you, enjoying himself a lot now.

You glowered. “I hate you.”

“Self-pleasure—”

“Don’t call it that!”

“—isn’t something that—”

“Stop talking.”

“Stop interrupting me!” Satoru couldn’t help but laugh at your expression. “I’m trying to give you a biology lesson. Just because you’re a priss—”

“I’m not—”

“And I’m sure you’re no stranger to it! After all, I’m sure you’ve…” Satoru’s brain caught up to wnat he was saying, and his voice faltered, and then trailed off.

Your eyes widened. You looked away from him, folding your arms right across your chest.

Satoru felt just as out of place. Just as he’d said it, the actual image of what he was saying had forced itself into his head. You: you, touching yourself, gasping and moaning in that same way you had in your dream. Would you sound the same as your had in his imagination? What you would look like—Satoru had not seen you naked in his dream, but he had wanted to, there.

But he could imagine. Your soft thighs, clenching around your bare hand, buried between your legs, your fingers—your fingers inside you, moving inside yourself, or rubbing circles on your clit, and Satoru’d had a girlfriend a few months ago who had liked it when he watched her masturbate, and he remembered how it had felt to be in the room with her.

It had almost been painful how hard he’d been, how much he’d wanted to touch her and be able to make her come himself—and there was a flash, just a split-second image, of Satoru’s lips on yours and his fingers curling inside you and your neck bared for him instead, and making you come. He didn’t know what it would be like, and Satoru felt his curiosity like a hunger, something that ached to be sated. Satoru swallowed.

Touching yourself, what would you think of?

Who would you think of?

You cleared your throat. “Anyway.”

Yes! Anyway!

Satoru forced out a laugh. Anyway! He pushed all those thoughts from his head—just remnants of his dream, coming to haunt him, everything perfectly normal—and grinned at you, feeling slightly delirious. He noticed that you didn’t look all that right either; you were blinking in that way you did when you were nervous or off-guard, and you still weren’t making eye contact with him. You didn’t know, did you? Was he—Satoru tried to subtly glance down—no, he was okay. You couldn’t know. Sure, you could figure out pretty much anything about him most of the time, but you weren’t a literal mind reader. You were just embarrassed for… whatever reason. Satoru didn’t know.

But he was moving on! He wasn’t thinking about it.

The silence stretched. Satoru felt awkward—he never used to feel awkward around you, but you’re still learning each other after your fight, and it’s harder than it was before.

“We good?” he asked, in a way that he realised a second later was much too vulnerable for his liking. He fixed it with a wink, and a casual stretch of his back.

“Yeah,” you said quietly. You cleared your throat again, and then nodded. “Yeah. Anyway.”

“The worksheets!” Satoru clicked his fingers in the air and hurried over to his desk. He rifled through the mess of papers, humming loudly and on purpose, and then shouted out: “Ha-ha! I’m amazing—here, look, I printed it out.”

“Good,” you said, tucking some hair behind your ear. “Hopefully Yaga won’t kill me in first period.”

“I’d have defended you from him.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome! I appreciate the appreciation, Hebi-Hebi. Being this kind and generous is a thankless job sometimes.”

“Oh, you’re such an idiot.”

But your lips were curling, and Satoru was floating on the air again, overjoyed that the awkwardness had fallen away. Success! A perfect deflection, and he’d coaxed the first half-smile of the morning from you.

Satoru laughed. And then you were just looking up at him, with that standard way you do, slightly heavy-lidded and bored, and it felt like a normal day again. It didn’t feel like anything had changed: even though it had, for him. It had changed. But between you two… it was just normal.

He hoped you couldn’t do your psychic magic trick on him, and figure out that he was feeling awkward. But why should he? After all, he was Satoru Gojo: it was him, now, him and Suguru. Both of them together, the world’s strongest. He didn’t need to feel awkward about anything! And especially not something that could be so easily explained, by the heat and by his normal teenage reactions to normal teenage stuff.

So, nothing had changed. Satoru’s face broke into a grin. That was good. You were just as close as you always were. No stress. He should just forget about it.

 

--

 

And he did.

And then it happened again.

#intrinsic warmth #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen #gojo smut #ikr #who am I #gojo fluff #everyone say thank you drunk maggie #she was a different girl to me I’ll tell you

[taylormarieee]

~She looks like lust and smells like desire~ ft. Daryl Dixon

Summary: You come to deanna's party dressed all hot and sexy for your two favourite boys knowing exactly how the nights gonna end.

Word Count: 3k

Genre: Pure filthy smut

Pairing: Rick X fem!reader X Daryl

Warnings: Threesome, PiV sex, Unprotected Sex, Oral(F&M), Daryl and Rick do not kiss or do anything of the sort they just please the reader, Dom/Sub dynamic, Pussy drunk Rick, Cock drunk reader, Reader rides Daryl's face, Cream-pie, Breeding kinks, Mentions of alcohol, Doggy style, Just pure and filthy smut! Enjoy!

You and the group were a little bit skeptical of Deanna and her ways, especially Rick and Daryl considering they don't trust so easily. Rosita and Carol had there suspicions but decided to brush it off for the good of the group.

For the most part everyone was happy. No problems yet at least.

Deanna says she's throwing a little welcome party for you guys. Typical. Of course she would throw a party like it's the real world again, like we're friends. But, you went on a run with Rosita and found this gorgeous black dress that fits your curves just right.

It was sure to be the dress to make everyone swoon and drool over you. Plus you wanted to have fun and feel pretty. You haven't felt much like that in a long time. So you slip on your dress put on these pretty black stilettos you found as well.

You make your way down the stairs and is met with rosita.

"Girl you took like two hours! What were you doing?" She says with a slight chuckle. "One, I did not take two hours Perra! And Two I was making sure I look good. Haven't felt like this in a while. Feels like prom all over again." You say sadly looking down at your dress.

"Its ok girlie, let's go shall we!?" She says with a smile holding out her arm for you to take. You gladly take her arm and walk out the door.

You both arrive at deanna's house together and knock on the door. There's music playing but someone heard the door. Glenn.

"Hey guys! You guys look great come in!" He says smiling. "Thank you Glennie boy!" You say hugging him.

"Stop! You've been calling me that since the farm!" He says chuckling. You and Glenn have known eachother since Atlanta, you guys were the closest.

You two were like brother and sister. You guys never left one anothers side. You ofcourse was like his little wingman when he met Maggie.

He was so shy but you helped him anyway. You walk through the crowd losing Rosita to Abraham. You make your way to where the drinks are and you see Carl. You wave at him and he walks over.

"Hey! I see you got all dressed up!" He says smiling while hugging you.

"Yea I did! Haven't felt like this since before the end of the world came you know? So I thought when I heard party why not dress up!?" You say hugging him back.

You see Enid walk by and that's when Carl says, "Uh I gotta go see you at home?" He asks. "Go get her Carl! I will see you at home!" I say smiling. He chuckles and puts his head down before walking the way Enid went.

You feel a pair of eyes on you but you don't know who's watching you. You look around getting that feeling of chills on you body only to see Rick Grimes staring at you while seductively taking a sip of what looks like whiskey, could be bourbon but you don't really care.

You smile and you do a cute little wave at him and he smiles back. He turns away to talk to Deanna again.

Yet, you still felt a pair of eyes on you and to your surprise, it was your favourite Archer. Daryl Dixon.

You and Daryl were close but not as close as he was with Carol. Him and Rick were still your boys though.

Following you everywhere to make sure no guy in Alexandria tried anything.

The possessiveness and need to protect you was cute. But you always thought they should know by now that half of Alexandria either hates us for being here or is scared shitless of us. Plus you could take care of yourself.

You always thought Daryl had a crush on Carol and always tried to set them up together. Like going on runs.

You would always partner up with Carl, Tara, or Rosita first so that Daryl wouldn't choose you and end up being with Carol instead so they could get some alone time.

What you didn't realize is that Daryl actually had a crush on you. But you were always so oblivious that him and Carol were a thing or could be a thing at least.

Maybe part of it was his fault for always being around Carol but he only had eyes for you.

And so did Officer friendly. But you always had a crush on Rick. He was a very attractive man, so who wouldn't.

There were always glances that lasted to long or touches that lingered longer than they should have. So you decide to walk over to him.

You almost make it to him except your stopped by deanna's son Spencer.

"Hey, You look nice tonight. Care to join me for a drink?" He asks with a smile. You being the nice person you are didn't deny a nice drink.

Sure I'd love to. Do you have whiskey though? I'm a whiskey girl!" You ask him. He chuckles and looks at you.

"What!?" You say laughing and smiling.

"You have this energy about yourself. Your fun and happy! Butt yea we've got whiskey!" He says holding out his hand, "Shall we?" He asks smiling.

Ha! We shall my knight in shining armour!" You say laughing. Rick and Daryl stood next to each other and they both saw this interaction and boy were they pissed.

They both knew that Spencer was only trying to get in your pants but you were of course to oblivious to notice that.

You were always so sweet and innocent and that's what made Rick and Daryl so obsessed with you. They wanted you all for themselves.

Daryl hated sharing and Rick was just so obsessed with you. Together they were the most toxic duo. And they were planning on taking down their prey. You. There one and only.

After some drinks later you two get more comfortable with each other. Joking around, Laughing, even some friendly touches were made.

Daryl and Rick didn't like this at all but Spencer wasn't exactly doing anything inappropriate with you so all they could do was sit back and watch the painful show in front of them.

"You really funny! How come we weren't friends sooner?" You say chuckling. You pat his shoulder and he chuckles.

"I honestly have no Idea. I don't really like Rick or Daryl and i don't know, maybe its affected the way I look at the rest of the group." Spencer says twirling his drink in his hand.

"Speaking of them, I can feel there eyes on you all night. You must be extremely special." He says smirking and nodding his head in their direction.

As soon as you look over there you are instantly met with their death stares watching the entire interaction. Heat rises to your face and ears as you look back at Spencer.

"Look Spence, I am so sorry but i should probably go. See you around sometime?" You ask pointing your finger out to him as you ask slowly walking away.

He smiles at the nickname and nods, "See you around sometime Aphrodite!" He says laughing and holding his drink up. You laugh and walk away.

The boys look defeated. Maybe Spencer really was just trying to be your friend. They hadn't seen him do anything really. He joked with you and touched you appropriately, in friendly ways. Who were they to take away a friend from you.

"Seriously guys? You scared my friend away!" You say with the pout of your lips. It's taking everything in them not to take you right here right now. Daryl just grunts and takes a sip of his drink while Rick just stares at you.

"Hello? Earth to Rick!?" You say waving your hand in his face. "I heard you, sweetheart. We're sorry. Right, Daryl?" Rick says not looking up from your body in that tight dress as he nudges Daryl's arm.

Daryl grunts and lowly says, "Yea." While looking at your eyes. "What'd ya wear that thing for anyway?" He adds.

"What this? Oh! I wanted to feel girly again! Did you know Spencer called me Aphrodite!? That was so nice of him but I just think he-" You state before being interrupted.

"I don't care what he said sweetheart, I asked you what did you wear that tight thing for?" Rick asks, his blue irises finally enchanting you. fuck.

Whenever Rick looked at you, you couldn't speak. No matter how hard you tried to think of a coherent sentence, word, or anything, it never came out. Damn you Rick!

You stutter trying to answer his question and Daryl scoffs clearly jealous at how you instantly get all shy around Rick.

"I-I wore it for you guys. Thought you guys would like it because your opinions matter to me." You say heat rushing to you face in embarrassment.

They look at each other and smirk. "Well Sunshine, yer lookin good if ya ask me." Daryl says with a smirk, winking at you.

You giggle and smile at him. You then look to Rick for his opinion on your dress.

"Darlin, you are gonna make me act up tonight. That dress looks amazing on you but trust me sweetheart it would look better on my bedroom floor." Rick says biting his lip looking you up and down.

You squeeze your legs together and bite your lip looking up at them with big doe, glossy, innocent, eyes.

Daryl mutters a 'fuck' under his breath and grabs your waist pulling you close to the both of them. "Damn doll ya really know how to push our buttons." Daryl says.

"Your lookin like lust on a plate sweetheart." Rick says biting his lip again.

"Well if you guys like it then it was all worth it!" You say twirling around and smiling. They both glance at you ass and admire you.

"It was definitely worth it sweetheart." Rick says biting his lip again. "C'mon, let's take ya home and show ya how good ya look." Daryl says smirking and grabbing your hand while Rick grabs your waist.

After about a 5 minute walk, you guys arrive at the shared house. You walk up the steps to open the door with Rick and Daryl behind you.

You guys walk in the house and Daryl is just itching to get his hands on your pretty little body. "Why are we here guys? Did I do something wrong?" you ask confused as to why they brought you here.

"Nah sunshine, you ain't do nun wrong," Daryl says getting closer to you. "Were here to show ya how special you are." Daryl adds.

Your eyes light up and your face contorts into a small little smirk. "Oh, I see. Well, boys don't just stand there," You say seductively "Fuck me."

Both boys are immediately on you growling in your ear and both trying to tear that dress off you.

They both successfully take your dress off and bring you toward the pull-out couch. Rick between your legs and Daryl in front of your face.

"Get on your knees, sweetheart." Rick orders sternly. And you obey him getting on your hands and knees while lustfully staring at Daryl. Daryl slowly unbuckles his belt and takes it off.

Rick unbuttons his pants and drops both his pants and boxers revealing his beautiful 9-inch aching cock, awaiting to be inside you. Daryl reveals his hard, 8-inch cock with protruding veins and already leaking pre-cum.

"God, ya look so pretty from this angle sunshine," Daryl whispers. The throbbing between your legs is unbearable and makes you extremely dizzy. You close your legs together to feel a tiny release only for Rick to yank your legs open.

"Nuh uh sweetheart, keep those prey little legs open f'me ok?" He whispers in your ear, his body flush with yours. You nod feeling his cock on your ass.

"Please... I wanna feel you, both of you. Please fuck me." You whine feeling helpless.

Daryl and Rick share a look before nodding at each other. Daryl looks back down at you and grabs your jaw forcing you to look up at him as he bends down to look at you.

"Beg for it, then maybe you'll get it. You've been a bad girl sunshine." He says in a singsongy voice.

"Please Daryl, please. I'll be a good girl for you, for both of you! Please R-Rick Please Daryl, I beg of you fill me up please!" You beg, pleading eyes staring into Daryl's lust-filled ones.

Rick nods his head of approval a Daryl and Daryl lets you go. "Alright sunshine, get ready."

"You asked for it sweetheart," Rick says grabbing your hips to push your ass against him. You whimper at the feeling.

"Open yer mouth sunshine." Daryl says.

You open your mouth and wait. Rick lines himself up with your entrance and at the same time, they shove their cocks into your holes.

Both thrusting at rough, fast paces. Nothing but skin slapping against skin and slobbering gagging noises filled the silent room. Your cries muffled by Daryl's cock shoved down your throat.

Your throat contracts in a way that has Daryl groaning loudly, "Oh fuck sunshine." He pulls your hair into a ponytail and starts fucking your face harder.

Rick plunges his cock deep inside you, it feels like he's hitting your cervix. His thrusts are rough and deep. You feel him all inside you. You feel his cock twitching, it feels so good you feel like you can feel his veins.

Both of them fucking you just right you feel euphoric. This feeling is better than anything you've ever felt before. Blood rushing through you, it feels amazing.

Your heart rate pumping faster than ever. Daryl pulls out to give you a chance to breathe and catch your breath but Rick's pace doesn't slow down.

You moan out as your body jerks from his rough thrusts. Daryl looks at your puffy lips and fucked out state. You feel your orgasm approaching and Rick's cock twitches inside you.

You both moan out loudly at the same time. Your body starts convulsing and shaking as you squirt all over the place. Your orgasm hits you so hard your eyes cross.

Rick shoots his warm cum inside you. The feeling of him cumming inside you is enough to have you cumming again. Daryl is jerking himself off at the sight.

"Where do ya want it sunshine?" He aska. "M-My mouth." You open your mouth for him and wrap your lips around his cock. Lips warm like a blanket.

He groans and shoots his cum straight down your throat. He gives one last final thrust before he pulls out. You stick your tongue out and show him the cum sitting on your tongue and you let it drip between your breasts before swallowing the rest.

You maintain eye contact through it all. Rick doesn't pull out yet, still breathing heavily as he comes down from his high. He starts thrusting again, "Wanna breed you so badly, wanna cum inside your pretty tight pussy again, want you to have my babies." He says.

You cry out at the overstimulation. And try your best to push him off you. Eventually, Daryl tells him to calm down but he just keeps mumbling at how good your pussy feels and how well you take him. Rick is so drunk off your pussy that it's like a drug. He wants more of it. More of you.

He pulls out though and falls onto his back. "Well, how good is tha pussy? I wanna try." He says with a smirk on his face.

Your body is limp but you still have some strength left. You get off your hands and lean back on your feet. Daryl picks. you up and lays. back and rests you on his stomach. Involuntarily, you grind on his stomach. You whimper and put your hands on his chest.

He lifts your hips closer to his face, "Want ya to ride my face, okay? Take it easy, wanna taste ya." Daryl says. You nod and he smiles. He lifts your body and slowly lowers you on his face, intoxicated by your smell he flattens his tongue against your slit.

You gasp and grab his hair. He starts lapping at your clit, licking from your slit to your clit. He moans into you and you groan feeling the vibrations.

Your moans start to get louder as he starts to prod and poke at your entrance. Haps up whatever he can, all of your juices flowing from your wet pussy. He loves how you taste and how you smell. You taste sweet like candy and fruity like strawberries. And you smell like peaches and whiskey.

God, you drove him crazy. You drove him absolutely crazy. He was so feral for you.

The things you do, the clothes you wear, how hot you are, how brave you are.

All those things always shot a spark down to his crotch every time. It drove him crazy.

Your pretty little noises grew louder and the pattern was all over the place. He could tell you were about to cum again. He continued to fuck you with. his tongue and lap up your juices.

You let out a long drawled fuck, with a cry of his name while you came all over his face. You rode and grinded on his face trying to ride out your high.

You scooted down from his face to his thighs and fell on top of him. He rested you on the couch and got up. He offered Rick a hand as he was clearly still fucked out.

Rick carried you up the stairs bridal style while Daryl got you a warm, wet rag to clean you off. The smell of sex, cum, and sweat lingering on your pretty body.

They wiped themselves off and got in bed with you. They sandwiched you in between them and kissed you goodnight.

A/N: Whewwww! That was hot! Personally, I enjoyed writing this one. It took me a while but I did it! I hope all enjoyed it! The longest fic I've written so far.

Taglist: @murdadixon @catt-leya @carlsdarling @carlgrimesenthusiast. @rickswh0r3 @sickyrat @sinsandsweetness @the-dixon-effect @number1gal @daryldixmedown @darylscvmdumpster @loveforcarl

#daryl dixon #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes #the walking dead #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #twd daryl #daryl dixon smut #rick grimes smut #rick grimes fanfiction #twd rick #Rickly

[enid-rhees]

any chance you could write a maggie x fem r where maggie gets drunk and fem r looks after her wife but maggie doesn't realise she's falling in love with fem r again. then the next day, everyone knows about what happened and they tease maggie over it?

drunk in love || maggie rhee x fem!reader

warnings: drinking, one sexual joke (drink responsibly!) (it’s also short, i apologize for that.)

a/n: thank you so much for your request, anon! hope you all enjoy 🫶🏻

Maggie Rhee Masterlist

“y/n!” Maggie wrapped her arms around your shoulders and pulled you in a hug, but dropped all of her weight on you. you let out a noise of surprise and pulled her up, “hey, sweetheart.” you laughed, brushing some of her hair away from her face. “have you been drinking?” you questioned, and Maggie giggled.

“a tinnyyyy bit. Carol invited me over for wine while you were on your run.” Maggie poked your face as she said that. “ah, that’ll do it. drinking with Carol.” you hummed. “we talked about you.” she giggled again.

you raised your eyebrows, “yeah? what were you saying about me, love?” Maggie began tracing shapes into your skin, “about how… pretty you are. and… how you’re so strong. you’re really, really strong. did you know that?”

“i did know that. you like that i’m strong?” Maggie nodded repeatedly. “i love that you’re strong. you look so hot when you’re beating people up.”

you laughed again. “why don’t we get you to bed, love? you’re gonna have a huge headache in the morning.” Maggie gasped, “you want to sleep with me?! that’s so inappropriate.” she whispered the last word like it was scandalous.

“no, Maggie. to actually sleep, no sex tonight.” you told her, pulling her arm so she would stand up with you. Maggie stumbled and fell into your grasp. “okay, keep holding onto me, sweetheart. we’re almost there.”

you managed to walk Maggie all the way to your shared bedroom and gently sat her down on the bed. Maggie hadn’t stopped staring at you the entire time, so you leaned down to meet her eyes. “what’s on your mind, Maggie?”

“i really like you.” she whispered. “i would hope so. we’ve been married for a year.” you giggled, and Maggie shook her head. “no, like… i really like you. i think… i think i love you too. yeah. i love you. a lot.”

you couldn’t help but smile widely. “i love you a lot too, Maggie.” you leaned forward and pressed a short but sweet kiss to her lips. “now let’s get to bed.”

you started working on the garden in Hilltop early in the morning, that’s when the newly grown vegetables were most fresh. Carol was working on cleaning clothes, and some of the others were doing their own thing.

as you began to replant the last section of seeds, you heard the front door of the main building open and close. you turned around and watched as Maggie slowly, very slowly, walked down the stairs while holding her head. you stood up and ran over to her.

“good morning, love.” you laughed as Maggie dropped her head into your neck. “did you take the pills and water i left for you?” Maggie nodded. “yes, thank you.”

“ah, look who finally woke up.” Carol’s voice came from behind you. “you are quite the drunk, Maggie.” you laughed again when Maggie groaned into your neck. “who else did you tell?” Maggie asked you.

“totally not me.” Rosita suddenly said, “but i agree, Maggie. isn’t Y/N like… super strong?” you tried to bit your lip to contain your laughs, but failed. “you’re terrible.” Maggie whined.

“i’m sorry, love. it was too funny not to tell everyone.” her eyes widened slightly. “everyone?”

you gave her a nervous smile. “i love you.” you told her, in hopes it would let you off the hook. she gave you a brief glare, “you are so lucky i love you back.”

you pressed a kiss to her head. “i’m extremely lucky to have someone like you love me back.”

#divider creds : cafekitsune #maggie rhee #maggie greene #maggie rhee x fem!reader #maggie rhee x reader #maggie greene x fem!reader #maggie greene x reader #the walking dead #twd #the walking dead x reader #twd x reader #the walking dead x fem!reader #twd x fem!reader

[midnightlizard]

Other side

Kara Danvers x gn!reader

Summary: You and Kara have been dating for a couple of weeks and you've never been very affectionate in public, or in general. So when one night you get drunk, everyone is surprised when you can't keep your hands to yourself. Especially your girlfriend, who can't stop blushing

Warnings: alcohol intake, nothing else, just fluff

Word count: 1580

-

-

It had been a while since the Superfriends got all together, unable to find a day where everyone was free to hangout.

So, when the opportunity finally made itself present, you decided to spend the night at the alien bar.

All the gang was there, except for Kara and James who got caught up in work, but should be here soon.

"what's gotten into you?"

You raised your head from the shoulder it was leaning on to look at your best friend.

"what do you mean?" you slowly squinted your eyes, and Lena laughed at that.

"I haven't seen you drunk in years, and as soon as you drink again, you become the clingy soft friend I met in college" and to emphasize her words, she raised the hand you were holding, fingers linked together.

"Winn lost at beer pong so now he has to pay for my drinks" you explained "of course I'm taking advantage of it"

"and I'm not clingy, because I'm drunk" you clarified after a second, laying your head back on her shoulder "I always show you my love"

And if the ceo had a witty remark to make, she was stopped just in time by the brown haired man, calling your name.

"I want a rematch, you in?" it was only thanks to the alcohol in his system that he didn't notice the position you were in.

"you really think you're going to win, schott?" an uncharacteristic playful, loud voice coming out of your mouth "but if I win, again" you got up to get closer to the man "you'll pay for my drinks next time we go out too" you raised your hand, which was instantly shaken by Winn.

"deal"

While the two of you were playing, Kara and James entered the bar, finding their friends at their usual table. As soon as they reached the table, your girlfirend noticed two heads missing

"where are (Y/N) and Winn?" she asked the group, causing James to look around.

"they're playing beer pong" answered Alex, leaning slightly into Maggie's side, stealing one of her fries.

"you should be careful with (Y/N) by the way" added the police officer, an amused glint in her eyes, but she missed Kara's confused face, to scold her girlfriend for stealing her food.

"what do you mean careful?" she furrowed her eyebrows, and turned to look at Lena when the woman opened her mouth.

"they tend to be a little..different, when they're drunk" she knew she could have explained it way better, especially since she has known you longer than everyone else, but she also wanted to keep the surprise.

And Lena knew the blonde didn't have to wait for long when she saw you approaching, with a wide grin on you face.

"hi baby" you whispered with a light slur to your voice, sneaking your arms around her from behind, resting your hands on her stomach. No one was able to hear what you were saying, except for the kryptonian of course, but your actions were enough to make everyone either laugh or hang with their mouths open. "I missed you"

"uh, hi (Y/N)" James spoke up quietly, as if he didn't know if it was really you

"hi man!" you greeted, raising one hand to high five him, the ohter still laying on your girlfriend. Time was moving a lot slower for you so when James spent a second too long to reciprocate, you turned to the blonde who was carefully watching your every move.

"I'm going to get something to drink, do you want anything?" you took a step back when you felt her moving aroung in your hold, making your hands drop to your sides.

"don't you think you've had enough?" she let her gaze shift between your eyes, noting the slight emptyness in them "why don't you sit down, I'll go get something myself"

Although your steps were secure, as was your balance, Kara still didn't feel like letting you walk on your own with your hands full of liquor, especially since she has never seen you act so 'unserious', or 'different' as Lena described it. And she definitely wouldn't let you drink anything else.

"oh no don't worry, Winn's paying for my drinks" you cheerfully rebutted, not realizing she wasn't worried about the money. That made the woman look at a Winn who was just as intoxicated as you, now groaning at what you said.

"besides" you resumed talking, putting your fingers under Kara's chin so she could look at you, and you missed the way her cheecks turned a bright pink at the touch "I want to treat my girlfriend" you winked, or maybe you just tried to close your eyes, but the action was definetly intentional.

The super rapidly blinked her eyes and when she came back to her senses you were already gone, Winn on your tail.

"don't worry, they know when to stop" vocalized Lena when Kara sat down next to her.

And she tried to listen to her friend's words, to believe you did know when too much was too much, but she couldn't help the pang of worry in the pit of her stomach as her gaze went back to you and the loud conversation you were having with her coworker, while waiting for the drinks.

As Lena predicted, after the beer you just ordered, you stopped drinking completely, and even refused to play another game with Winn when he offered.

"are you sure you're alright (Y/N)?" your girlfirend whispered in your ear after a minute of you silently staring in her general direction

You slightly leaned back to able to look at her, and flashed her a sweet smile "of course I am. You're just so pretty you make it hard not to look at you" you uttered out, removing a strand of blonde hair that fell in front of her glasses.

"uh- oh, thank you" she whispered, but she wasn't sure you were able to hear her.

And if she had any braincell still working properly in her system, it stopped working when you landed a soft kiss at the corner of her mouth, her infatuated red cheeks resembling your alcohol induced ones.

The rest of the night had the same light touches from you, with your hand resting on her thigh or a kiss to her face when she said something funny or smiled sweetly;

and the same hesitation from Kara in accepting said touches, loving the attention but not knowing when was the alcohol doing the decision for you.

Then it was time to go.

"give me your car keys" the blonde softly ordered as soon as you two stepped out of the bar, stopping in front of you, careful so that you wouldn't bump into her with your slow reflexes.

"why do you need my car keys?" you asked, but still held them in the air for her to take.

"because I'm not letting you drive like this" she answered, putting them in her back pocket "come on, I'm taking you home."

"do you need my house keys too then?" you tilted your head to the side, but she shook her head.

"no I was, I was thinking you should sleep at mine, actually." she started walking to her car "in case you start feeling bad in the middle of the night"

While trying to guess why you should feel bad at your own house you felt your hand being pulled, and found Kara back by your side.

"come on, let's go home"

The car ride was silent, the kryptonian did try to make conversation, but a couple of failed attempts later she focused on your breathing, noticing you fell asleep, probabaly as soon as she started driving.

Once she parked her car and turned the engine off, Kara tapped on your shoulder a couple of times, whispering your name.

You let out a little sound, and raised your head from the window "mh?"

She couldn't stop the smile that formed on her lips, leaning in to lay a kiss in between your eyes. "we're here" she whispered, never taking her eyes off yours.

When you entered her apartment she closed the door behind her, putting her bag on the nearby couch. As she raised her arms to take off her jacket you stopped her, grabbing the beige material yourself.

She let her hair down from the ponytail it tied was in, and feeling hands on her waist she turned around, automatically putting hers on your shoulders.

"what's going on with you?" she laughed lightly, and started running a hand through your hair when you crouched down to lay your head in the crook of her neck.

"I'm drunk" as if the reporter didn't know already "and I'm tired. Lena was right"

"yea I can see it" she didn't know what you meant when you mentioned the brunette, but she let it go "you've been stuck to me all night"

You raised your head, the grip you had on her shirt now faltering. "was it too much?" you could feel yourself sobering up a bit

"oh no (Y/N) it was okay" she took your face in her hands, her cheeks red at the memory "I was just surprised"

She laughed at the sound of relief you let out, hiding your head back on her neck.

"come on, enough of tonight." she whispered, pulling you to bed "let's go to sleep"

Kara Danvers Masterlist - Supergirl Masterlist

General Masterlist

#supergirl #supergirl x reader #x reader #kara danvers x reader #kara x reader #kara danvers #fanfiction

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

DAY TWENTY-FIVE: Proposing on Christmas w/ Daryl Dixon

a/n: It's the final day, and this challenge has sure given me a run for my money oh my goodness. I'm not proud that I let this challenge slip away from me, but I am proud that I didn't allow myself to abandon it, even though I did want to on major occasions. Sadly, I had suffered a severe case of writers' block and burnt-out motivation, but it seems as though my time away has lifted my spirits! I have received many requests leading up to now, so I'll be sure to catch up on those slowly but surely, and I thank those who have been oh so patiently waiting. I also want to thank everyone for their support on this! It truly was fun, but I think that's enough challenges for me until later lol!!

masterlist | ficmas masterlist | AO3

TAGLIST: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood

Daryl was never one to be nervous, let alone on Christmas. Even before the fall of humanity, he had never once celebrated, and even if he did, it would’ve been a shitty holiday in the Dixon family household, accompanied by a drunk and abusive father, with an equally high and bigot brother, and an absent mother. So, it was safe to say that the man had never once imagined himself celebrating, until you, until he learned how this was your favorite time of the year, how he had noticed the lift in your spirits as the first snow fell. Until he had imagined himself being with you forever.

He had seen the happiness that marriage had brought Glenn & Maggie, but he also saw the sadness that plagued Lori & Rick as well. He had seen how broken up Maggie was when Negan had killed Glenn, how vengeful Rick became when Lori had lost her life to giving birth to Judith. He had seen the highs and lows of every kind of marriages, so he had no choice but to ask the only woman that he could trust, and that was Michonne. Yes, Rick was gone. There was no going around it. He had spent months out in the open searching for what felt like a ghost, and in those moments of loneliness, of a punishment he had unknowingly sent himself to, he had realized that he couldn’t be without you, and it would be the biggest mistake he had ever made if continued in this life without you being permanently bound to him.

“Michonne.” Daryl called out to the woman as he approached her. It took her attention away from whatever council business she was in the middle of. “I uh- I gotta ask ya something.’” He said as he fidgeted with his fingers nervously. “Anything.” She said with a smile on her face. “So, I wanted to uh- propose to ______, ‘nd I wanna do it on Christmas but, I don’ know how to.” He confessed sheepishly. The smile on her face was one that wanted to tease, but also help the poor guy out. “Just do it from the heart, Daryl. I know for a fact that she won’t say no, trust me.” Her words were comforting, and she knew that she would never lie to him.

Now all that was left was waiting for the right moment. Does he dress up? Does he gather an audience? It was only then that he realized how intimate and personalized proposals were. There was no right way to do it, in the moment when you two were alone, trudging through the forest as it snowed that he felt deep within his gut that this was it, the moment he had been waiting for.

“Stop.” He said suddenly, hearing the crunching that was coming from behind him cease. “Dar? What’s wrong?” You asked him quietly, eyes frantically searching in front of him for any type of danger, or food. “I uh-“ What was he supposed to say now? He turned around to face you, taking your hands in his. “The snow making you feel romantic, Daryl?” You teased, a soft smile on your face as you watched his large hand swallow yours. “I guess.” He confessed with his own crooked smile on his face. “I know ‘m supposed’ta know what’ta say but... I ain’ never done anything like this before. I’ve thought about this for a long time, hell, even asked Michonne to help me, but uh-" He got down on one knee and you swear you stopped breathing. “Daryl?” You asked shakily. He looked up at you through the hair in his face and dug something from within his back pocket. He had always had a habit of carrying your ring with him everywhere he went.

“Ya don’ gotta say nothin’ jus’... will ya marry me?” There it was the big question that had sat in the back of his throat and his mind for what felt like years. He watched as a large smile broke out on your face despite the tears spilling down your full, cold cheeks. “What do you mean I don’t have to say anything, Daryl? Of course, I’ll marry you!” You could practically scream at the top of your lungs as he stood up, his pants leg now soaked in melted snow. You giggled at the sight of it and Daryl grinned, reaching for your hand and slipping on the band that he had made for you.

“I know it ain’ much, but there’s only so many rings shop in the world, and I didn’ know what your ring size was.” You cupped his cheeks, thumb rubbing at the scruff. “Daryl, it’s perfect, and it’s so... you. I don’t need a gold or diamond ring, all I need is you, always and forever.” And with that, you kissed him, and he kissed you back, pulling your body into his.

At the end of the day, both of you walked out of the greenery as husband and wife. Not yet at least.

#25 days of ficmas #25 days of ficmas 2022 #daryl dixon 25 days of ficmas #daryl x reader #daryl dixon x reader #daryl fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon #daryl dixon fluff #daryl dixon x plus size reader #x plus size reader #plus size reader #plus size!reader #chubby reader #x chubby reader #fluff #fanfiction #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon oneshot #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl dixon blurb #daryl twd #twd daryl #daryl dixon twd #twd daryl dixon #daryl the walking dead #daryl dixon the walking dead #twd #the walking dead #the walking dead fanfiction

[catt-leya]

Touch Me Pt. 3 (18+) || Rick Grimes

After all the slow burn, I've finally landed back with my favourite task👉🏼👈🏼💗

I'm happy to say: dirty talkkkkk ❣

I can feel the smile on his lips against my neck as he whispers softly, "Don't forget to breathe."

Angrily, I want to squirm out of his arms, but then when he breathes a kiss on my neck, I really do forget to breathe.

As quickly and unexpectedly as the kiss was, he also lifts his head again and pulls me further.

It's such a strange hot and cold game with him that I get whiplash and in between just can not assess how serious he actually means it. But my body doesn't seem to care about that and goose bumps form on my arms. As I look up at him, it's clear that he's noticed my reaction to him and knows how treacherous my body is.

His arm rests heavily on my shoulders as he points his chin forward, "You're welcome to join the others if you really want."

This asshole, knows full well that I'm not going to avoid him and I hiss, "Oh just shut up."

I hear him quietly tease, "I knew you would." But as I'm about to retort something, the church Gabriel was talking about comes into view and the group waits for Rick to take the lead again and distribute the tasks.

Slowly his arm slides off my body and he slowly looks around the area, "Daryl?"

I look to the man Rick called and catch him watching me before averting his gaze and turning to Rick.

Apparently I'm not all that uninteresting to him, only I'd like to know what's going on in his head.

I'm far from enjoying the trust to be sent into the church as well, so I'm not offended when Rick makes me wait outside before calling the rest of us inside as well.

I walk up the stairs beside Maggie and she nudges me lightly from the side, "Do you think he has wine there?"

I hadn't thought of that at all and I grin broadly at her, "That's something we should clearly ask about."

In fact, we walk right up to the priest and I can hardly believe it myself when he pulls out a few bottles of wine from a storage closet and brings a smile to Maggie's and my faces.

The whole group arranges itself on the floor of the church and in the middle we put everything edible and drinkable.

Squeezed in between Maggie and her husband Glenn, I lean against the bench behind us and enjoy the glasses of wine Maggie keeps pouring for me and herself.

Everyone is drinking and laughing and I can't imagine leaving the people here and when Maggie slurs lightly, "You have to stay with us, understand?"

Giggling silly, I nod and she falls around my neck, causing me to stumble slightly, for which I blame the wine.

Glenn lets out a soft "Ufff" and then groans in agony, "Shit, you guys are totally drunk."

Laughing, I try to crawl out from under Maggie, only succeeding when she sticks her tongue down her husband's throat, and crawl toward the opposite side of the aisle, still laughing.

Of course, my eyes linger on Rick, who is sitting on the edge looking up at Abraham, who is waving something around.

I crawl towards him on all fours and the closer I get to him, the more aware I become of how beautiful he is, which is only made more obvious by the alcohol in my blood and the candle flickering.

Unintentionally, "You're so beautiful" escapes my lips and with a furrowed brow, Rick turns his face to me, "Thanks, but I think you're a little drunk."

I scramble the last few feet over to him and plop down inelegantly on my butt next to him, "A little maybe, but I always think you're super duper pretty."

Rick doesn't even bother to hide his grin, "Super duper pretty? You're drunk, Honey."

I playfully want to punch him in the upper arm, but miss and fall forward where he catches me and my upper body is pressed against his and I mumble, "Stop calling me that."

He puts his hand on my back and presses me even closer, which pleases me more than it should and I rest my head on his shoulder.

In a raspy voice he asks, "How much have you had to drink? Be honest."

Absently, I unzip his jacket and slide my hand underneath. He doesn't stop me or comment on it and waits for my answer, "I only had a couple of glasses. I promise."

When I have alcohol in my blood, I always get very physical and even now I have a hard time holding back. Rick is just too warm and inviting that I can't help but press my nose to the back of his neck and softly breathe, "I'm tipsy."

I feel him take a deep breath and his hand on my back slides a little lower until it stops on my butt and I am tempted to breathe little kisses on his neck.

My body is glowing from the inside and yet I still want more of his warmth and when he drops his head against the bench behind him, he allows me free access to his throat and I claw my hand into his shirt under his jacket.

I spread wet kisses on his neck and lick from his ear to his collarbone over his pulse.

A sound escapes his throat that makes me whimper softly and I slide my leg over his so I can grind against his thigh and I moan against the small hollow his collarbone make.

My hand on his stomach moves further down and when I get to his belt he grabs me by the wrist and growls, "Get up."

Completely out of it, I yip, "What?"

More gently than I expected, he pushes me off him and repeats, "Get up."

Eyes wide, I stare at him, unable to believe he turned me down, and he can probably read exactly what I'm thinking on my face, because he hisses, "You can jerk me off outside, but I don't think you want to do it here in front of everyone, do you Honey?"

Eyes huge, I shake my head, but my legs don't obey me, so I let Rick pull me up and with his hands on my hips, he pushes me toward the door.

Behind us, I hear Maggie call out, "Have fun, sweethearts."

Yes, she is definitely drunk and I am too grateful that Rick is keeping me steady on my feet.

Giggling, I stagger in front of Rick and probably whisper too loudly, "Are you fucking me now?"

Groaning, Rick grabs me tighter around the waist, "Just be quiet for a second."

The loud whistling behind us makes it clear that the others have heard me and my shame is no longer there as I say loudly again, "You're definitely not going to want me to do that later."

Maggie shrieks, "Oh my God," and I feel like I've landed back in my college days, which actually weren't even that long ago.

Rick doesn't seem to take a breath until the big door slams shut behind us and mumbles under his breath, "You're going to regret this tomorrow."

I push his hands off my hips to turn to him and wrap my arms around his neck, "I don't think so."

I push up on my toes and go to kiss him, but he pushes me back on my heels by my shoulders and says, "You're drunk."

He's not wrong, but I'm also not so drunk that I don't know what I'm doing. It's more that I'm just braver now.

Offended, I push my bottom lip forward and his eyes linger on my lips as I beg, "You said I could jerk you off outside. Please let me do it."

All color drains from his face and he responds breathlessly, "I wanted to get you some fresh air. Otherwise, you would have been inside jerking me off."

I can't stand on my tiptoes, but I can press my belly against his cock, which clearly wants me.

A low moan slips from his lips and I purr, "You have no idea how good I am at this, Rick. You can't even imagine how much I want to get on my knees for you."

I lick my lips and his cock twitches against my stomach, giving me the reassurance I need, but he shakes his head, "I don't want you doing anything drunk, Honey, and I'll probably kick my ass for saying it."

Ignoring his words, my hands slide off his neck and I slowly get to my knees. When he realizes what I'm doing, he snaps his eyes open and grabs me by the armpits, "No, no, no. Don't do that."

The alcohol makes me feel needy and I beg again, "Please, Rick. I want to feel your cock in my throat so bad."

To himself, he moans, "The hottest woman in the world is begging you to fuck her in the mouth and you're doing the moralizing and saying no. No one will believe you."

With his strong arms he pulls me back to my feet and puts a finger on my lips when I try to say something again.

Immediately I fall silent and probably tomorrow I will be totally ashamed of it, but I open my lips and take his finger between my lips. I'm so horny for him that I can't stop myself and suck on his finger.

He moans, "Fuck," and as I slide my tongue along the length of his finger, he pulls it out of my mouth and says hoarsely, "Let's make a deal."

Skeptically I raise an eyebrow and Rick continues, "If you tell me tomorrow, sober, that you still want this, then I'll fuck you however and wherever you want. But in return, you go to sleep now and don't offer me any more blow jobs or I'll get blue balls."

Obviously I can't get him to do anything today, not even if I would be dancing around naked, and in fact it increases my respect for him immeasurably.

So I nod and ask, "How do we seal the deal?"

Gently, he puts his hand to my chin and leans down to me.

Waiting, I open my lips and his breath hits my lips as he breathes, "I think that's appropriate."

And then presses his lips to mine.

Uninhibited, I moan into the kiss and willingly grant him entrance into my mouth.

Growling, he pushes my head further back to kiss me deeper and I feel like I'm being impregnated by him from that alone.

His hands are so close under my breasts that I tremble with anticipation and when I think he's just thrown the deal overboard, he pulls away from me and I barely recognize his voice as he says harshly, "So you're going to sleep now?"

Speechless, I nod and put off my wet center until tomorrow before actually letting Rick lead me back inside without resistance.

The fact that he pushes me in front of him doesn't surprise me, because he wants to cover his erection somehow, and I'm busy explaining to Maggie with hand signals that nothing has happened.

No idea if she understands, but as soon as Rick has me in the place where I am supposed to sleep, I lie down and because of the wine I fall asleep the second Rick puts his jacket over my body as a blanket.

To be continued…

@hail-yourselves @bean-is-reading @chanlvr2 @criminalwalkingsupernatural @sunshinevirus @toxic-ink @kingtwhiddleston

#rick grimes #rick grimes imagine #rick grimes smut #rick grimes x reader #twd x reader #twd #the walking dead

[numinousmysteries]

A Miracle, Perhaps

@eightnightsofmulder

@today-in-fic

Eight Nights of Mulder Day Five: Miracles

[on Ao3]

November 1994

Hanukkah falls early this year, beginning the Sunday after Thanksgiving. Mulder hasn’t mentioned anything about going to visit his mom so Scully isn’t surprised to see him in the office on Monday morning.

“How was your Thanksgiving?” he asks as she turns to hang her coat up.

“Fine,” she says, not wanting to elaborate.

In truth, it had been an awkward affair. She hadn’t realized how much her family’s congenial rapport depended on everyone being on their best behavior for her father. Without the captain to steer them, tensions flared. Thinking he’d be free of Bill Scully Sr.’s judgment, Charlie made his first appearance at his mother’s table in years with his long-term boyfriend Harry, only to face Bill Jr.’s wrath. This led to a very drunk Melissa “accidentally” knocking a full glass of red wine onto Bill’s shirt as she gestured wildly in her little brother’s defense. Once Charlie stormed off with Harry trailing behind him (apologizing to Maggie and thanking her for the food as quickly and quietly as he could) Bill turned his anger on Dana. He argued that by staying with the FBI even after her abduction she was only asking to get killed.

It all ended with Maggie retreating to her bedroom to cry, Melissa vomiting in the bathroom, Bill cursing into his whiskey at the table, and Dana silently washing dishes in the kitchen.

“Did you spend the holiday with your family?” she asks, coming to sit across from him at his desk.

Mulder shakes his head. “Nope. Frohike made his famous chicken wings, which is close enough to turkey for me.”

“What about Hanukkah? You celebrated with your mother last year,” she says, hesitating as she eases into new territory.

Two years into their partnership and they still do this awkward dance around each other when it comes to anything remotely personal. She’s more than partly to blame herself since she doesn’t willingly share much about her own life.

“‘Celebrate’ is a generous word,” Mulder says. “We didn’t exactly light the menorah and spin a dreidel around. My mom started taking her sleeping pills earlier and earlier each day until she was basically conking out after lunch. I don’t think she really likes having me around.”

“That can’t be true.”

Mulder shrugs. “I think I just remind her of Samantha. Or rather Samantha’s absence.”

“What about your father?” Scully says, trying to change the subject.

“It’s funny,” he says. “My dad’s family was Jewish and my mother only converted before they got married, but as long as I can remember he never wanted anything to do with religion. Besides, Hanukkah isn’t even a very significant holiday. It just happens to fall around Christmas so it’s gotten swept up in that all-American, gift-giving, capitalist fervor.”

“What’s the story again?” She’s familiar with the basics of the holiday but she knows Mulder likes weaving a tale for her, and she likes to listen as he does.

“Well, it all started with the rise of the Greek king Antiochus the fourth in the second century BCE. The Greeks had a mostly live-and-let-live attitude toward the Jews until then, but Antiochus wasn’t a big fan. He forbade Jews from practicing their religion and demanded they worship Greek gods instead. This all came to a head when Antiochus invaded Jerusalem, killing thousands of Jews and turning the Holy Temple into a shrine to Zeus. He also forced Jewish people to eat pork, which was strictly forbidden by the Torah, but now that I mention it, oddly puts me in the mood for bacon.”

Scully smiles but shakes her head at him.

“Anyway, a small group of Jews known as the Maccabees formed an army and managed to overpower the much larger Greek forces. They retook the temple and got rid of all the Greek idols but ran into a little problem when they went to rededicate it by lighting the menorah with pure olive oil. Because the Maccabees were soldiers returning from the battlefield, they themselves couldn’t produce pure oil until waiting seven days after having handled dead bodies. All the oil in the temple had been defiled by the Greeks except for one jug that supposedly only had enough to last for one night. But of course, as the legend goes, it ended up keeping the menorah lit for eight days, just in time for the Maccabees to start churning out their own oil. Since this all went down after the Torah was written, the only biblical allusion to the Hanukkah is actually in the New Testament when Jesus visits Jerusalem to observe the holiday—”

“—in the book of John,” Scully finishes his sentence.

“Someone paid attention in Sunday school,” he says, and she fights the feeling of a blush rising to her cheeks.

“Are you surprised?” she asks with a smile.

“Not at all,” he says, returning her grin. “Of course, some scholars consider the Maccabees to be religious fundamentalists who even killed fellow Jews they didn’t consider to be hardcore enough. And some versions of the story don’t include any reference to the so-called ‘miracle of oil,’ so who’s to say what really happened?”

“Mulder, you are willing to believe in claims of parasitic alien life forms, shape-shifting mutants, and widespread government conspiracies, but miracles don’t pass muster?” Scully asks, the corners of her lips creeping up into a smile.

He shifts in his chair, leaning forward, closer to her. “I recently witnessed one miracle that I believe in.”

“Which was?”

“Watching you go from the brink of death in that hospital bed a few months ago to sitting here and debating Talmudic wisdom with me right now. If that isn’t a miracle I don’t know what is.”

She instinctively pulls back, bracing her hands on the armrests of her chair. He doesn’t budge, keeping his eyes locked on her.

“Mulder, I can’t clarify what happened to me, why I was returned or why I recovered,” she says quietly, “but when I was unconscious in the hospital, I saw things that I believe can only be explained by the existence of a higher power.”

She hadn’t confessed this to Mulder before and she isn’t sure why. This is a man who believes in werewolves and time-traveling killers. Why is she scared to tell him about her own visions?

“What did you see?” He asks, softly, leaning in towards her.

“I saw my father. I saw my sister—and I saw you,” she says quietly. “But it wasn’t just seeing. I felt your presence.”

Mulder pauses for a beat, opening his lips to speak but not saying anything.

“Scully, I’ve heard about near-death experiences, people believing their seeing through a portal into the afterlife. But in nearly every case they can be explained by low-oxygen levels or misfiring neurons in the brain.”

“No, Mulder,” she says, looking down at her hands now. “I read my medical report. I never suffered from hypoxia or unusual neurological activity. There’s no scientific explanation for what happened.”

“So you think it was God?”

“I don’t know, Mulder,” her voice quavers. “But I can’t say for sure that it wasn’t.”

“Whatever it was, I’m glad you made it through.”

“Thank you,” she says, feeling the heat rising in her chest.

She doesn’t tell him that along with sensing his presence she felt something more—a fierce devotion bordering on love. Maybe he’s right and it was a miracle that brought her back to him. Or perhaps the miracle is whatever brought them together in the first place.

#eightdaysofmulder #eightnightsofmulder #8dom #txf #xf fanfic #xfiles fanfic #msr

[multiharlot]

I was wondering if you do requests because if you do may we have a wedding fic between matt and age gap!reader please because I've been on my matt murdock feelings again

drunk speeches // matt murdock x age gap!reader

summary: the day you've been waiting your entire life for has finally come.

warnings: extreme fluff, drunk foggy making a speech...and making everyone cry (reader is now 25 and matt is 35!)

masterlist || series masterlist || add yourself to my taglist!

you sat in the makeup chair as leanne sat by your side, and your other friends all getting dressed and starting on their own hair and makeup. you were sure that you'd all set some kind of record for largest number of hair rollers in one room.

"are you nervous? it's okay if you are." leanne asked as she glanced down and your hands that you were wiping on your robe.

"i just...what if he backs out?"

"then i back my car out over him." she shrugs, making your makeup artist snort.

"she's joking." you quickly say to them.

"she's not. but we'll pretend she is for your sake." one of your other friends said as she sat in the chair on your other side, unloading her makeup bag onto an empty space on the makeup desk in front of you.

"he's not going to back out on you. i've never seen a man so lovestruck. like ever. it's like a bad romcom, everyday." leanne groans, making you smile.

"that's so cute." the makeup artist coos as he pats the brush gently under your eyes.

"it's cute until you're sitting at brunch with them and you have to watch him get lost in her eyes."

"he can't do that, he's literally blind." you quickly comment.

"well with the way he looks at you sometimes, i'd be none the wiser." your other friend sighed, roughly patting the makeup sponge against her face.

as your friends complained about how in love matt was with you, he was anxiously twitching as foggy stood in front of him, fixing his bow tie.

"what if she walks out? what if she realized that she doesn't want to be married? i mean she's still in her twenties and i-"

"matt. shut up. i've never seen two people as in love as you two." foggy says, grabbing matt's lips and forcing them shut.

"if soulmates are real, then she's yours. and if they're not, you two are pretty damn good at convincing me that they are. " karen says sweetly, smiling softly as she stands up from the corner of the room and walking over to him, lint rolling the sleeves of his jacket.

"yeah...yeah you're right." he says, letting out a slow and shaky breath.

"you know...it's funny. usually people are nervous because they're about to commit to one person for the rest of their life. but not you." foggy chuckles.

"i've never been more sure of anything in my entire life." matt quickly says, running his nervous hands over the front of his jacket as karen pins the boutonniere to his lapel.

foggy and karen smile, sharing a glance with each other. there's a soft knock at the door before the door opens.

"oh matty, you look so handsome. just like your father." maggie coo's and she walks through the door.

"thanks, mom." matt smiles.

"she looks beautiful, you know." she smiles as she walks over to her son, smoothing out any wrinkles in his shirt or on his jacket.

matt stays silent, a tight smile on his lips.

"i wish i could see her." he says softly.

everyone in the room pauses for a moment before maggie gently smiles, grabbing her sons hands, leading him to the loveseat to sit down with him.

"she's wearing a white satin dress, it's kinda drape-y, like it came straight out of a greek mythology movie. but it's beautiful, and i couldn't imagine any other gown. and she's wearing her hair down with little blue crystals cascading down. looks like god himself put the stars there."

karen grabs foggy's hand as they watch matt's eyes start to water, a short chuckle leaving his mouth.

"her train has a piece of her mothers veil sewn into it, which is her something old. and the hair crystals belong to her maid of honor, so they're her something borrowed and something blue."

"resourceful. i like it." foggy nods his head, making everyone chuckle.

"and for her something new, a beautiful pair of pear earrings, a gift from her friends. and she looks beautiful." maggie says as she softly smooths matt's hair down.

"she's always beautiful." matt smiles through teary eyes.

"not even at the altar yet and you're crying." foggy teases as he wipes his wet cheeks.

"oh shut up, i hear your tears falling." matt smiles, taking a tissue from karen and wiping his wet eyes.

"weird." foggy mumbles, making everyone laugh.

there's a short pause before the bell in the church rings.

"it's time." maggie smiles, standing up from the couch and holding her hand out to her son.

"are you ready?

"more than ever." matt smiles, taking her arm and walking towards the doors of the church.

he met y/n's bridesmaids at the door and when the doors opened, he heard everyone turning towards them as each pair walked down the aisle, then he followed afterwards with his mother. when he reached the alter and his mother went to take her seat, he heard her gasp softly.

"what? what is it?" he whispers back at foggy.

there's short pause as foggy and karen smile widely.

"y/n saved a seat for your dad."

matt swore he could feel his heart thump out of his chest as it swells. but before he could say anything, the soft music began and he could hear everyone rise out of their seats and the doors open and the soft gasps.

"she is beautiful, matt. you lucky bastard." foggy says, making matt smile.

he couldn't see you, but he didn't need to. he knew you were beautiful. and he knew he was the luckiest man in the world to have you walking down the aisle to meet him, of all people. foggy tapped his arm, signaling that you had made your way to him, and he reached his arm out, shaking hands with your father and hugging your mother before taking your soft hands in his. cradling them so gently as if they could break at any moment.

the tears had started to fall down your face and the priest hadn't even gotten to the vows yet. after some deliberation, you and matt and decided to keep your written vows to yourselves, and during the ceremony, you'd go with traditional catholic vows. the priest had turned slightly towards matt, asking him to repeat the vows.

"i, matthew murdock, take you, y/n y/l/n, to be my lawfully wedded wife. to have and to hold from this day forwards. for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part. receive this ring as a sign of my love and fidelity, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit." he says through his tears as he slides the ring onto your finger.

"i, y/n y/l/n, take you, matthew murdock, to be my lawfully wedded husband. to have and to hold from this day forwards. for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part. receive this ring as a sign of my love and fidelity, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit." you smile, taking a quick breath in as you place the ring on his finger.

the priest takes a small pause before the smile on his face becomes larger.

"by the power vested in me by god and the state of new york, i now pronounce you, husband and wife. you may kiss your br-"

matt doesn't bother letting the priest finish before grabbing your face and giving you the kiss of your life. you hear people laughing and clapping and the priest lets out a chuckle.

"let her breathe matt." leanne laughs, and he smiles, pulling away from you.

"i love you, mrs. murdock."

"i love you, mr. murdock."

****

you and matt sat at the head table with leanne , your mother, and your father to your left, and foggy and marci, karen, and maggie to matt's left. leanne, maggie, and your parents had made their speeches, and despite already having your first dance, foggy has yet to make his speech and is already stumbling over his words.

"i wonder if foggy remembered that-"

a glass clinking interrupted your thought and you gave matt a tight smile.

"i spoke too soon."

"hear ye! hear ye!" foggy shouted as he continued to clink the glass.

"oh dear god." matt mumbled, letting out a laugh at his hand covered his face.

"thank you good sir." foggy bowed as he was handed a mic.

"i met dear mattholomew in college, and may i just say, a stunning man then and a stunning man now." foggy nods his head and raises his glass at matt, and i shake my head.

"you know he still can't see you right?" you shout.

"one can hope!" foggy yells into the mic, making you and matt cringe at the slight feedback.

you and matt laugh and he places his hand on your thigh, grabbing firmly.

"anyways, before i was rudely interrupted, i met matthedore dearest in college. freshman year, in our criminally tiny dorm. and we did...everything together. well..not everything. but most things. i've known him for a better part of my life. and in that time, i've seen him with many a women-"

"oh foggy c'mon!" karen bargains, letting out a chuckle as matt's face goes red.

"but never have i seen matt as happy with anyone, as he is with y/n. actually, i remember the day he met her. he came back to the office and immediately told me about her. and for the first time...ever, he was nervous. a girl had made the unbreakable matthew murdock nervous. so nervous, in fact, that he asked me for advice on how to text her. and for anyone who knows matthew murdock pre-y/n, that must come as a shock to you, i know. but that's when i knew she would be different. y/n has made matt into a more incredible man than i ever thought he could be. he's a better person in every sense that you could possibly think of. i don't know how, but he's even better at his job because of her! and he was already pretty damn good!" foggy laughs as the people in the reception hall laugh with him.

foggy turns slightly to face you and matt, the tears already brimming your eyes.

"y/n, i know i'm his best man, and i'm supposed to come up here and say good things about matt and tell everyone how great he is. and he is! he's great, love that guy. but...you are....the best thing about matt murdock. you are the best thing that's happened to him. and to me! you've made my best friend happier than i ever thought he could be. and for that, i'll be eternally grateful to you." he smiles, and you smile, the tears streaming down your face.

"so here's to the murdocks, may you forever continue to make each other better people and may y/n forever bring the best coffee i've ever had to the office every morning before she goes to work." he says, holding up his glass to you.

everyone toasts and you stand up out of your chair, taking foggy in for a big hug.

"thanks fog" you cry, and he holds you tightly.

"no, thank you."

you pull away, smiling up at him and he walks you back to your seat, where matt meets him with a hug.

the night went on and eventually, you and matt were left alone, dancing slowly in the middle of the dance floor.

"so..." you start

"sooo..." matt drags on, smiling widely

there's a short pause before the two of you start laughing.

"how was your day, mr. murdock?"

"it was everything i could've ever dreamed of and more. and you, mrs. murdock?"

you smile, placing your hand softly on his cheek.

"it was the best day of my life."

taglist:

@luvr-bunnyy @glowstick-lesbian

#matt murdock imagine #x reader #marvel #daredevil #daredevil x reader #marvel fanfiction #marvel men #matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #netflix daredevil #matthew murdock x reader #foggy nelson #matthew murdock

[peaky-shelby]

Define Me | Neymar x OC [10]

Summary: Famous Singer and Actress, Gabriella Hamill, travels to Qatar after being invited on live television by her favorite player, Lionel Messi. Despite the invitation, Ella tries to avoid the cameras and hide in plain side, wanting to enjoy the games without the chaos that comes with being in Public places and it all seems to be going well until she meets Neymar Jr. in this bad boy meets good girl story, the definition of good and bad is lost between the lines and redefined by the past and future.

« Previous chapter

Final Chapter: redefined by Definition

Writer's note: I'll see you down at the end of this post for the goodbyes 🥺 a special look on Ella's notebook in the end hehe

Taglist: @xngelsau @sirensanction @reneyahh @thegrinch101 @geekwritersworld @chaotic-taco-collector-blog @blondedjoys @maneaterss @inthemoonlightblue @iluvneyney @woozarts @missamericana69 @bjoriis @marialikescherries @morganadpl @neymarloverxxx

1 YEAR, 67 DAYS LATER - PARIS - TOUR'S FINAL SHOW

“Set the lights- where the fuck is Gabriella? Maggie?” Maggie raised her head from the phone, her eyes betraying her nerves. The concert director shook her head “She has 5 minutes”

“She will be here in 2” Assured Maggie and ran down the long halls of the stadium. You could hear the screaming, the anticipation, everyone’s energy from the other side of the stadium. They were yelling Gabriella’s name, they were cheering and jumping while Maggie was trying to find her- “FUCK!” Maggie bumped on a small figure and looking up her face got calmer, her heart returning to normal “Where the hell have you been?”

“I was on the control room- “Maggie grabbed her by the hand to get her under the stage. “Messi’s here. With the kids.”

“Is that who you were looking for?” she asked, even though she already knew the answer. Gabriella didn’t respond. The tour director saw them, running to them and grabbing Gabriella from her other hand, pulling her on the right spot. She fixed her hair, untying some of her curls and examined the black dress she was wearing. It was only one of the outfits she would be changing into tonight.

“We go live in 3, do not fucking move Hamill.”

“Be honest you’re gonna miss this.” Gabriella teased, poking her on the shoulder.

The tour director didn’t say anything at first. Then she hugged her. “Thanks for not being a drunk fucking moron all the time. It was a good tour!” Gabriella laughed by the embrace, her eyes widening while she looked over at Maggie who seemed to be surprised as well. “Would have been nice if you let me do the final show in LA.” She backed away “Just have fun out there. Prove to those French guys they are getting the best fucking show of tour.”

“I will.” She smiled

The director started looking around nervously “Where the fuck is Marc-“ She pulled out her microphone, speaking on it “Marc you fucking piece of shit, get your ass on your position-“ she left, leaving Maggie and Gabriella laughing.

“And she’s back”’ Singed Gabriella.

“Never thought I’d meet someone more Nervical than me.” Said Maggie. Gabriella smiled, one of the assistants handed her the microphone, wishing her well. Maggie looked at her, making sure everything was set. “You good?”

“Sure.”

“What were you really doing up there?”

“You know exactly what I was doing.” She huffed “What if he shows up? What If he comes with his girlfriend?”

“He wouldn’t do that to you.”

“I kinda wish he would. It would make hating him easier.”

“You don’t have to hate him.”

“You did.” She smiled.

“Just take a deep breath. Do the show. Alright?”

Gabriella noted, she heard the drum role from over the stage. She smiled. It was time. The director was counting down the seconds on her ear and before she knew it, she was up on stage, welcomed by the crowd. She found herself searching for him during most of her acts. When she sat down to play “define me” on the piano, she was examining the entire crowd, waiting see him there but he wasn’t there. He was nowhere.

“ELLA!” The kids ran up to her, she tried to pick them both up at the same time but she fell backwards on the couch behind her. All three of them laughing while their mother and father, Antonella and Messi watched them laughing. She hadn’t seen them ever since the final. She could still remember the feeling, the thrill of watching Leo scoring and in the end winning.

She got up from the couch, throwing herself at him to hug him. Antonella joined the hug, smiling. The sat backstage for almost an hour, talking about the good and the bed of the previous year. All the time Gabriella wanted to ask about a specific someone but she was hesitating, asking anything but that. She told them stories of her time on tour, of every country she had been and of course Argentina. The kids drifted off to sleep just an hour later.

“They are adorable.” Said Gabriella, standing across from the wide couch they had taken shelter on. She was standing by the table with the drinks, Messi and Antonella were sitting together on a wooden chair, Antonella on his lap, arms wrapped around him. Gabriella smiled at the sight “You’re adorable as well.” She said, making them laugh. Antonella kissed Leo on the cheek. This was a different kind of love. One that Gabriella had yet to know. It wasn’t just passion and hunger, it was comfort. It looked comforting. But she knew it had it’s hardships as well. And if that kind of love had it’s hardships then how could there ever be a love for her that wasn’t just pain and heartbreak.

Messi got up, Antonella standing up with him. He went to wake the kids while she made her way closer to Ella.

“How is it?” Asked Gabriella, a question that slipped of her lips before she could stop it. Antonella gave her a look of confusion before realizing the question, her expression changed to something along the lines of pity. She reached for her hair, her fingers untangling them, Gabriella closed her eyes. Taking in the feeling.

“It’s not easy. But it’s worth it in the end.”

She gulped. She was thinking about him again, she wanted to stop it. “What happens when he is not there? When he has long trainings or long trips? What happens when he doesn’t show?”

Antonella let out a loud breath. Thinking about it. She bit the inside of her cheek “You learn to live with it. You know he’ll show up next time. So, keep his place on the table and you wait”

Gabriella laughed “if lose is setting up a place in a table for someone that’s never coming home, I think I’ll pass”

“This is not about a place in a table though, right?” They looked at each other. Gabriella felt like a kid, being told off by her mother. “This is about an empty seat in a crowded room.” she smiled. Gabriella looked away anxiously, looking at her half empty glass. She bit her bottom lip, tabbing on her glass with her finger.

“Is he happy? With her?”

“I feel like any answer I may gave you will still hurt you.” She wasn’t wrong about that. “He wanted to come. He’s been debating over it for weeks.” She tasted a tear on her lips, wiping it away quickly “He was scared it would do more harm than good.” Gabriella nodded. Sniffing back whatever tear might escape her eyes next.

“Yeah.” Was all she said, she faked a smile.

After that Antonella and Leo left with the kids and Gabriella got up on the stage again. The employees were taking down all the fancy decorations but there was glitter and confetti on the floor. The piano was still up there, she hit a few notes on it while walking past it and sat on the edge of the stage, looking over at the empty stadium. A bottle of beer in her hands, she took a sip. She liked seeing the stadium after the concerts, enjoying the silence. There was beauty in the chaos after the party, it made her feel so ordinary. Her legs didn’t even reach the ground, that’s how tall the stage was. She would swing them back and forth on the beat of a tune in her head, humming along.

She sensed someone standing behind her and she twisted her body to see who it was, his name almost slipping her lips but it was just Maggie. Carrying all the bags with the extra clothes. “Should I wait in the car?”

She didn’t respond. She thought about it. What would staying here succeed? He wasn’t coming. She shook her head, giving up “no” she said and went to stand up when suddenly-

“Sir you can’t be in here!” Called one of the guards and Gabriella looked at that direction. A guard raising his hands to stop a Man dressed in a black hoodie from entering. Her breath hitched on her throat; her heartbeat seemed to pause for what seemed like hours. He raised his head, his eyes falling on her, meeting hers. Each of them frozen. The bottle slipped from her hand, breaking on the stage, glass shattering in front of her legs. Maggie jumped back. The guard turned to look behind him. Gabriella and he just stood still, like nothing had happened. One of them had to move, had to say something. The guard turned his attention back at the man in the hoodie to push him out of the stadium but he pulled down his hoodie, finally showing his whole face. His beard, his cheekbones, his hair, every single detail on his face “Neymar” she whispered. She slipped of the stage “It’s ok Steve! He’s with me!” She said quickly while walking over to him, closing the distance between them. Steve walked away.

She was close now, close enough to be able to smell his cologne. Memories coming back in glimpses in her head. Things they said, things they did. You don’t realize how much you’ve missed someone until you meet them again and you feel your heart sinking, every part of your body begging to touch them, hold them, kiss them, love them. All of a sudden, she could feel his bite on her neck, her hand automatically reached for that spot like it was still fresh. All of a sudden, she could feel his hands on her body ghosting her, haunting her. But they didn’t touch each other, they only stared. He was dressed simply, in black. A bouquet of flowers in his hands. He looked so real.

“you’re late” she said in a whisper. A smile appeared for seconds in his face. It faded away so quick if she had blinked, she would have missed.

“I’m sorry” he said “I…” he stopped “I wasn’t going to come. Then I… I saw antonella’s Instagram story and I came- for the first half. I got an actual ticket so I didn’t have to give my name, so you wouldn’t know…” he explained “Because I wanted to see you but I wasn’t sure I could talk to you. I wasn’t sure I wanted to. Then you played that song…” she knew exactly what song he was talking about. She crossed her arms on her chest “I left before the concert was over.”

“Why did you come back?”

“Because I realized it was an asshole move.” He answered quickly like he had rehearsed it. He handed her the bouquets, waiting for her to take it “Didn’t want you thinking I’m an asshole again.” She looked at the flowers. She slowly took them in her hands, raising them up to her face to smell them. She closed her eyes, enjoying the aroma. She moved them back down. She wanted to smile but she couldn’t. Looking in her eyes was hard for him; all he could see was pain. Pain that he had caused. He made a step forward and at the same time she made a step back to keep her distance. It broke his heart “I’m sorry” he said.

“You don’t have to apologize.” She said quickly “It was a mutual decision; we knew the consequences.”

“I hurt you.”

“You didn’t” she argued “We agreed we’d move on. It hurt both of us but we had to-“

“But I didn’t move on.” He topped her voice. She didn’t argue to that, she just watched him in shock. “Maybe I did physically-“ he explained, getting closer" But not emotionally because I still think about you-“ he raised his hands so quickly she couldn’t back away before he put his hands behind her neck, basically grabbing her entire face and forcing her to look at him and only him “I think about you every night- it’s driving me insane, it’s eating me alive the way my heart’s been stuck on the same beat ever since I met you- every since I left you-“ His thumbs caressing her chin, she closed her eyes.

“Neymar-“ it was a cry for help. It was begging, it was her breaking.

“I tried- I’ve been trying so hard. I know it’s messy, I know it’s gonna stink but it can’t be harder than what I’ve been going through for the last year and a half-“She leaned her forehead on his, her body shaking while she sobbed in his hold and his grip around her face tightened. He didn’t know If it was his or her tears that he was tasting but the salt was intoxicating his lips, his wounds. He wanted to kiss her and he was holding back with whatever power he had left. She shook her head against his, slowly. She grasped his arms, her fingers deepening in his skin “Come back to me please”

“I can’t” she cried “Cause if I do, I’ll never be able to leave again. That’s why I didn’t text, that’s why I didn’t call-“she was rambling, she knew it. She wanted to curse and scream but she had no strength to do either and her raspy voice was breaking his heart in pieces “I thought the longer I delayed coming here- I thought time would heal this-" she punched his chest “I can’t-“ she repeated.

He got closer, his lips brushing against hers. “Let me love you- please. Let me love you because if you don’t I swear to God I’ll lose my mind.” A bigger sob escaped her mouth, a louder cry as she leaned closer to him, half her weight falling on him “you see the things is… I don’t know how to love anyone else but you” he whispered, his eyes closing. His lips mold into hers and she accepts his love. He kisses away all her tears, tasting them, drinking them along with his own and she gives into him, her arms finding their place around his neck while his stay to her face, holding her like he was making sure she wouldn’t disappear or run away and she kissed him back like an addict, who needs his daily dose. Their bodies tied together in the empty stadium, glitter and confetti shining under them and silence surrounding them. She grasps his hoodie, holding the fabric in her fists while she pulls him closer, she is breathing through him, he is her oxygen, he is her everything in that moment and she’s still sobbing and he is still giving her his all. Loving her in the way that he could only love her. Both of them defining each other, defining their future, redefining their past, redefining themselves from broken to tangled. Tangled with each other from now till forever. He was hers and she was his.

Were the troubles over? No. Was it a fairytale happy ending? No. But she let herself be loved again, she let him touch her, some night even own her or the other way around. She let him hold her heart. And it was hard because it came with distance and struggles-

"how is it being a football girlfriend?” they'd ask her and she'd laugh. Blushing.

"oh i don't know. It comes with the long distance territory wether we like it or not but we are hanging in there. It's hard but we..." She'd smile at the interviewer "close our eyes, close our ears and just live in the moment. He taught me how to do that."

She’d go to his games wearing his jersey, his name and number on the back. He’d go to her concerts, her premieres, her events screaming her lyrics, clapping, introducing her to the world as his greatest gift. She felt bad sometimes for her parents, she hadn’t worn that Argentina jersey for a long time, but looking herself in the mirror, dressed in the yellow and green colors she could only think of him. He’d join her, wrap his arms around her, kiss her neck while she watched him from the mirror, smiling “It suits you” he’d say.

"Yeah, it does.” She’d respond.

^^^^ this is the song that basically inspired the entire series after i wrote it. I wanna say thank you to everyone that followed along and read this story. I'd suggest you take a look on New Romantics (my other series) bc i may or may not have little crossovers planned for the two series. 👀👀 This may not be a final goodbye bc Ella and Neymar's story is obviously not ever they have a lot of things to deal with still so maybe I'll be writing a couple of their adventures but until then ILY all and thank you for love you gave this. i hope the ending was satisfying enough 👀

#neymar one shot #neymar imagines #neymar jr #neymar #neymar x oc #neymar x reader #football writing #football imagine #football requests #Spotify

[gloopdimension]

spill the tea on hasbin ☕

okay.

The characters themselves

angel - ill be honest hes one of the best in the cast For Me Personally hes very fun. butthe scene where he talkd abt why he gets drunk to escape his issues is just so ... it didnt Feel good. like its leaving jothing up to yhe audience to figure out Humm Why Does He Do This? also the song right after where its all about how hes a loser for it(????) was a bit shit concept wise. how is he a loser. unless if the menaing of thr song is Literal like hes Lost a Lot then i will stand corrected. but the song still kind of pisses me off sjfjsjndd

nifty - pisses me off. shes irritating. naught more but comic relief

husk - I like his voice but the way he reads everyones issues out loud Also leaving nothing up to the aufience to figure out is so boring. Gee thanks bro(DONT LET ME FORGET TO BE MAD ABT THE USAGE OF "DADDY ISSUES)

charlie - pisses me off. shes irritating. I look like a misogynist but the way shes written pisses me off. shes so Infuriatingly merciful even as angels are reigning down on the hotel actively endangering Her People Which She Cares About Soo Much. (DONT LET ME FORGET TO BE MAD ABT THE FIGHT SCENE)

vaggie - shouldve named her maggie. way too easy to say faggie. She doesnt really piss me off shes the most tolerable really aside frm angel and someone else ill get to. I wish she was more emotional about GETTING HER WINGS BACK. like THATS A PRETTY BIG THING DUDE. viv sacrifices super important things like this for either comedic relief or to make things Cool. also she has the most unfitting singing voice ive ever fucking heard. oh my god please get someone else to sing for her PLEASE we dont need mirabel de encanto to sing for VAGGIE. also airs out her issues levaing no abiguity.

charlie- Oh my god. She pisseI WAS ABOUT TO WRITE ANOTHER CHARLIE SECTION BC I COMPLETELY FORGOT I ALREADY DID. She makes me so mad i was abt to write two parts.

pentious - hes cute. most consistent out of everyone. Comedic relief. Hate how his death was handled that pissed me off.

Who else... idk ill get to the writing and pacing

alasto4r- He pisses me off. i hate his deisgn i hate how red he is i hate how hes supposed to be black but hes the whitest son of a bitch ive ever seen. hes inconsistent hes out of xharacter (that little feud with lucifer, he wouldnt say Fuck You he'd top it off with a quirky quip so that he IN HIS OWN WORDS "ALWAYS IN CONTROL") he PISSES ME OFF

emily- shes cute. because shes just charlie.shes literally just charlie with her colors inverted.

sera- very original namecertaintly not derived from Seraphim. shes fine.wish she had locs instead of shirley temple curls

fat nuggets- i cheer in joy at hlthe very sight of him.

the fight against the angels was so anticlimactic. it was so boring. sr pentious being killed sucked yes but did the characters rly have to cease all operation in a VERY HIGH INTENSITY ENVIRONMENT to mourn? they all should have been killed then and there for their inattention. rookie mistake. i wish charlie did way more than just shoot fucking fireworks.

The pacing is ALL OVER THE PLACE. the way the show depicts the passage of time is incredibly unclear.

#asks #ill get to the daddy issues in another rb. hold on. #gloop thots

[fluffypotatey]

Leverage Ep 13

SEASON 1 FINALE BABYYYYYYY no pregame thoughts!! only watch

Spoilers in the reactions (obviously):

OH MY GOD! i really thought i missed something or like an episode for a second bc of how this episode begins

jfc Leverage don’t scare me like that T^T

Jim Sterling >:((((((

THEY HAVE THE HEIST MUSIC LETS GOOOOOOOO

Parker my beloved 😍

the build up has me so exited

ELIOT MY BELOVED 😍😍

HARDINSON MY BELOVED 😍😍😍😍😍😍😍

lmao Nate doing the chair turn-around cliche • love him

he sounds very drunk tho 🥺 concerned 🫠

“I got out of sales.” “Oh, so what are you in now?” “Theft.” Love you Nate <3333

Hardinson 🥰

Nate should punch this Ian Blackpoole guy, as a treat

Punch him! Punch him! Punch him!

Oh? 👀 Parker and Sophie are both surprised to find each other 👀 was this heist actually heists plural??? 👀👀👀👀

OH MY GAWD IS IT??? IS IT HEISTS PLURAL????

And they just let Nate leave??? 😂😂😂 he told y’all, to your face, that he will rob you and you let him leave????

IT’S HEISTS PLURAL!!!!

Eliot and Alec sitting in an elevator: K I S S I N G 😙😙😙😙😙

lmao did Alec buy a fucking mansion???

Noooooooo the crew is mad at each other 🥺🥺🥺🥺 stop that. it was an episode ago, sure, but still

Nate: “Why are you guys even here >:(“

Everybody: “they insulted us! and I have a reputation to uphold!”

Everybody and what they don’t say: “bc we care, okay!”

Alec wants to talk 🥺 but Parker is avoiding it (on purpose or oblivious…idk)

Nate can be so stuck up sometimes 🙄 love him tho

“You want…Eliot to…feel out my wife??” Words I didn’t think Nate would say

“Ex, Nate. Ex-wife” Sophie 😂😂😂

Sterling’s fucking reaction to the museum security 😂😂😂😄

Maggie!!!!!

NATE 😂😂😂

ELIOT 😂😂😂😂😂

THEY ARE IN THE VAN 💀💀💀

Nate getting fucking ROASTED

NOT EVEN IN BED 💀💀💀

NOT THE GIFT BUTTON CAMERA 🫢

Is he gonna tell her 👀

OHHHHH WILL HE SHARE 👀👀👀👀

OMG HE IS

OH MY GOD

OH MY GOD

HE TOLD HER

YES MAGGIE!!! TELL HIM

oh 🥺

Oh no we’re getting a flashback

ow 🤧

awwwwwww 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

AH FUCK

NOOOOOOOOOO

SHIT

THEY KNOW ABOUT MAGGIE

omg they included her in the planning

PARKER 💀💀💀 WHY

“That is confidential” girlie, these are crooks

Parker I love you 🥰

Lmaooooooo poor Nate (doesn’t feel bad for him at all)

Ah fuck they know!!! Sterling could you stop being a stalker and let the heist continue in peace >:(

Oh that poor museum guy 😅 he’s having the worst day

“Everybody knows it’s a fungus” MAGGIE I LOVE YOU

Sophie wants to reconcile with Eliot 🥺 oh wait no, everyone, she doing this with everyone

Oh she’s trying 🥺 she’s bad at it tho. very bad

Fucking spike of stress at Sterling’s appearance 😭 why can’t he just not do his job >:(((

You’re fine, Maggie. I think. I hope. I don’t know

I wanna punch Blackpoole so bad

ELIOT JUMPSCARE

I CHOKED ON MY PASTA

AND THEY DONT SEE HER

IS STERLING JUST PRETENDING TO BE BLIND (nope, he just didn’t see them, wow)

this poor museum guy 😂

we’re fine!!! we’re good!!!! (She is not fine)

YESSSSS

HEISTING IS A GOOOOOOO

WE HAVE A TIMER????

Thank you public panic

EVERYBODY HAS A STATUE

oh this is so funny

Sterling you’re behind now!!!! AHAHAHAHAHAHA

did they plan for lockdown? 👀 THEY DID 🔥🔥🔥

Sterling, do not threaten Maggie 😡😡😡😡

“I’m the bait” YEEEEEE

THEY STOLE THE PAINTINGS INSTEAD YES

YESSSSSSSSSSS

OH SHIT! STRESSED

GET FUCKED IAN!! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

YEAH STERLING SWITCH IT UP

Nate turning the lines on Ian 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

AND HE GOT PUNCHED

FUCKING FINALLY 🥳🥳🥳

omfg, THE FUCKING CUSHIONS???

My Nate/Sophie is in conflict with Nate/Maggie

Only solution: Nate/Sophie/Maggie

They’re doing the circle thing

But it’s sad😭

Please don’t separate them!!!! NO SEPARATION

“Let’s see how hard you look” NOOOOOOO PARKER DONT SAY THAT 🥲 NO SEPARATE!!! NOBODY IS ALLOWED TO LEAVE

you know, it hurts more because Hardinson would look for her T^T he would always try and find her while Parker finds new ways to hide and blend in

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

DONT BREAK THE CIRCLE

COME BACK

BACK I SAY

Y’all listen to the tv score and turn around—

WHAT???? THATS IT????

NO!! NO IT IS NOT

THAT IS NOT THE END OF SEASON ONE WHAT THE FUCK

General thoughts:

Uh, so, what the fuck 🫠 I am so sorry to everyone who watched this show live that cliffhanger is just….so evil.

Actually so happy to see Maggie get included with the crew, and it was nice to see that things weren’t just thrown under the rug from the last episode. Like on one hand, I am sympathetic towards Sophie, but on the other, her con put the team in a lot of danger. Danger they did not agree to because their heists are never really on the safe side. So it was fun to see that “yeah, I don’t know if I can trust you like I could before.”

ESPECIALLY WITH ELIOT!!! He actually admitted that he was feeling at home with the team and getting comfortable and letting his walks down 🥺 so it makes so much sense that he’s not ready to forgive Sophie for breaking that (also, Eliot I swear, we need more episodes focused on you because WHO FUCKING ARE YOU??? Nothing is explained fully, you’re like a jack of all trades, the tank of the team, you have a very tough exterior and I just— I wanna knooooooooooow 😖)

Hardinson and Parker were so fucking cute 🥰 and I love how their relationship is building but also felt really worried because Hardinson really wants to talk to Parker about where they stand, but she’s being very avoidant about it T^T and then!!! she fucking says “Let’s see how hard you look,” WITH A FUCKING SMILE GIRLIE NO!!! DONT PLAY WITH MY HEART LIKE THAT 🫠

ough 🤧 how is this the end of the season……on to season 2 I guess

#not today tho i need to process this #fluffy watches #fluffy reacts #idk which i tagged before #leverage

[endlessbittersweetdreams]

"Mistletoe"

SUMMARY: A Christmas-themed fanfic that accompanies "Broken & Beautiful."

NOTES: I had intended to make this Chapter 13, but I wanted to release it in time for Christmas. Chapter 12 isn't even written yet. So ... Merry Christmas, everyone!

TIMELINE: After the soon-to-be-written Chapter 12.

CHRISTMAS DIVIDER: dawn-petrichor-world

     It’s Christmas night, and the restaurant is packed. I don’t know what it’s like on the second floor, but there is not a single table on the first floor that isn’t filled to capacity. I don’t know why Howard insisted on playing instrumental Christmas music in the background, because it can barely be heard over the din. And I have never been so glad that I’m not a member of the wait staff. If they’re not racing about like chickens with their heads cut off, they’re forced to deal with cranky guests who haven’t been touched by the holiday spirit.

     Then again, who am I to talk? I’m really no better than them. Granted, I haven’t snapped at anyone. But there is definitely a cloud constantly hanging over my head. There’s a storm brewing, and I fear that the slightest thing could set off “Hurricane Lilah.”

     Despite his best efforts, Jake never could convince Simone to go to the Cape without him. Goodness forbid a 37-year-old should attend a Christmas party by herself, just this once. Apparently, she needs Jake to sit in a corner and get drunk while she “makes nice,” with people she doesn’t like because they have “connections.” Never mind the fact that Jake hates the Cape with a passion. Never mind the fact that he’d rather celebrate Christmas with me, the woman who loves him. Nope! It’s all about Simone. Well, I say screw her! Screw Simone and her pretentious friends in their fancy house in the Cape.

     Well, the joke’s on her. The weather took a turn for the worse, which mean that neither she nor Jake can get out of the city. The problem is: Jake is stuck in a car with Simone because traffic is backed up. So even though he’s still in NYC, we still won’t spend Christmas together. And although the snow has stopped falling, that doesn’t mean that the temperature has improved. The one thing I can thank Simone for is the fact that she had the presence of mind to make sure that there were a few blankets in the car, just in case.

     “If you scrub at that bar top any harder, you’re going to start a fire.”

     I look over at Sam, the older gentleman who’s covering for Jake, but I don’t stop what I’m doing. “Sorry, Sam. I just can’t seem to get this sticky stuff off of here,” I lie. The truth is: when I’m stressed or just plain angry, I clean. After that argument with Jake in the basement, I took my anger out on every cobweb and dust mite imaginable. I usually keep my home neat and tidy, but I’ve never seen it look so clean.

     “Mm-hmm.”

     I glance at him again. He’s observing me as he polishes a glass. What’s this guy’s problem? Can’t I attack an imaginary spill in peace?

     “Holiday stress getting to you?”

     “You could say that,” I respond, moving on to another spot.

     “Were you able to spend time with family for the holidays?”

     I know he means well; that he’s just making small talk. He’s a nice guy, but he’s really pushing my buttons. I remain polite as I respond “I don’t have family.”

     Not in the traditional sense, anyway. True, John and Maggie Kincaid adopted me. They did right by me when I was a kid. They raised me. Fed me. Clothed me. Taught me right from wrong. Saw to it that I received a good education and a normal upbringing. And there was a time when I thought they loved me. Then I went through my rebellious stage, and they eventually wrote me off. We haven’t spoken in years, in spite of my best efforts to reach out to them.

     I can hear the sympathy in Sam’s voice. “Oh. I’m sorry to hear about that.” There’s a pause, and then he asks “Is there someone you can be with? No one should be alone during the holidays.”

     Why not add a little salt and lemon juice to that vinegar you just dumped on my open wound, Sam? The one person I wanted to spend Christmas Day with is stuck in traffic somewhere, trying to stay warm ... with the manipulative shrew of a woman who raised him.

     But then, when I cast my gaze to the main floor and see my co-workers, I realize ... I actually do have people to spend Christmas with. I do have family. This isn’t one that I was born into. This is one that I’ve chosen; one that’s chosen me. I’ve been so caught up in feeling sorry for myself that I forgot that.

     Although I haven’t stopped cleaning the bar top, my movements have become less angry and frantic. I smile a little when I say to him “You know what, Sam? I think I’ve just found people to be with tonight.”

     Sam leaves right after his duties are completed, and we bid each other a Merry Christmas. Even though I still feel an ache in my heart at Jake’s absence, my mood has lightened a bit. I even laugh a little when I find a reindeer antler headband and a light-up Rudolph nose on the shelf of my locker, accompanied by a note.

     Hey. Lighten up a bit. It’s Christmas.

     - Your Secret Santa.

     I slip into a beige Christmas sweater and a pair of black pants, sliding my feet into a pair of warm winter boots. I grab my gifts, along with my purse and coat, and make tracks for the door. I pause when my phone chirps, taking time to read the text Jake has sent me.

     Hey, Lilah. Good news. Traffic has let up.

     I feel myself brighten at this. Then I frown when another text comes through.

     Bad news: car broke down. Think it’s the transmission. Waiting for a tow truck.

     Ugh. Of course. Just when I think the stars have aligned and a path has been cleared for Jake to come home ... this happens.

     I’m trying, babe.

     My smile returns, and I text back: I know. Just get home safe.

     I will. See you soon.

     I make my way to the dining area and step behind the bar, setting down my belongings as I get ready to take everyone’s orders. Scott, who’s lounging at a table with Will, calls out to me.

     “Hey! You’re not wearing my Christmas gift!” I laugh and shake my head. “Put ‘em on! I paid good money for that shit!”

     “Come on, Scott! I’ll look stupid!” I whine.

     When the others join in on egging me on, I finally relent. I slip on the headband and the nose, all too happy when Scott says “You’re right! You look ridiculous! Take ‘em off!”

     I remove the nose and put it in my purse, but decide to keep the headband on. Scott is right. I do need to lighten up. After serving everyone else, I fix myself a holiday-themed drink and lean against the bar top next to Tess. I take a sip of my drink, satisfied by the amount of peppermint flavor I added.

     “You kept the antlers on,” Tess comments.

     I shrug. “Yeah. Well, like Scott said: It’s Christmas. Besides, I look cute in antlers.”

     There’s a moment of silence between us. Even though Tess and I have buried the hatchet, things are still a little awkward between us. It’s going to take me a while to trust her. But at least we’re not at each other’s throats.

     “How’s your Christmas been?” I ask.

     She takes a sip of her wine. “Okay, so far. I heard from my dad.”

     “Yeah? How’d that go?”

     Tess shrugs a little. “Well, you know ...”

     I scrunch up my nose. I don’t know much about Tess, but I know that her relationship with her father isn’t that great. “That well, huh?”

     “Yeah. He still thinks that moving to New York was a big mistake.”

     “Well, at the end of the day ... his opinion doesn’t matter. What do you think, Tess? Do you think it was a mistake?”

     She answers, without hesitation. “No. I don’t.”

     “Well, then screw him and his opinion.” She laughs. “I’m serious! If you’re happy here, then that’s all that matters.” I pause, thinking this next part over. I don’t know if I can trust her with this information, but maybe it’ll help her. We’re not friends, but I feel for her. “Look. If it helps, I know how it feels.” At her curious look, I continue. “My parents ... the ones who adopted me ... they wrote me off when I moved back to New York.”

     “You lived here before?”

     I nod. “I did. Will and I went to Columbia together. Didn’t he tell you that?” She shakes her head. “Well ... long story short, I ...” Deciding not to reveal too much, I choose my words carefully. “ ... I left school and moved back to Baltimore. I lasted about a year there. Then I traveled a bit. Finally, I realized that Baltimore isn’t my home. New York is. I don’t know. There’s just something about this city. It grabs a hold of you, and it doesn’t let go.”

     Tess nods. “I know what you mean.”

     “Anyway, John and Maggie weren’t too happy with me.”

     “Why?”

     “For the same reason your dad isn’t happy with you: they thought I was making a big mistake. We got into a huge argument, and ...” I look away from her and quietly add “Well, that’s a story for a different time.”

     “That’s pretty brave of you. What you did, I mean.”

     I glance over at her, and she’s giving me that same look of admiration that she gives to Simone. It makes me uncomfortable, to be honest. “Thank you.”

     “Have you heard from Jake?”

     “I did. The traffic let up, but Simone’s car broke down. They’re waiting for a tow truck.”

     “I’m sorry. I know how much you and Jake wanted to be together.”

     “Well, at least he’s not stuck hundreds of miles away in Cape Cod. I just ...” I become frustrated, suddenly, and poor Tess has to listen to me rant. “Up until this year, I was perfectly content celebrating Christmas as a single woman. I was used to it. I mean, yeah! It sucked that I didn’t have anyone to kiss under the mistletoe. But ... I was fine. And now that I have Jake, I ... I mean, is it too much to ask that I get to spend Christmas with the man I’m seeing? I feel like the universe is conspiring against me.” I calm down a bit. “Sorry. I just ... This sucks!”

     Tess looks at me for a while, startled by my rant. Eager to lighten the mood, she says “Yeah. It sucks. But ... you really do look cute in antlers,” and then raises her glass to me.

     I let out a quiet laugh and roll my eyes. “You should have seen me with the nose on.”

     We clink our glasses together and take a sip of our drinks.

     Most of the crowd has dispersed, leaving only myself and my friends. I’m standing behind the bar, sipping on a second helping of my holiday cocktail, while traditional Christmas carols play in the background. I’m still wearing my antler headband. Only now, a piece of mistletoe is hanging from one of the antlers. Ari, Heather and Sasha bid me goodbye as they leave. Now I’m left with Will and Tess, who look like they’re ready to leave as well.

     Will approaches the bar. “Hey. You need some help cleaning up?”

     I shake my head, trying to ignore the sympathetic look he’s giving me. “Naw. You two head out. There isn’t much to do.”

     “You sure?” Tess asks.

     I nod, putting on my best ‘I’m fine. Really!’ smile. “Yeah. I’m sure. Go on. Have fun.”

     They each wish me a merry Christmas and leave through the front door, and I’m alone. I switch off the music on the stereo and select a song that perfectly fits my mood. I hum along to The Eagles’ “Please Come Home For Christmas,” as I quickly wipe down the bar top. I gather up the used glasses and put them in the bus tub, taking them to the kitchen. I rinse out the glasses and put them in the dishwasher, leaving the bus tub on the counter.

     I walk back to the bar, bending down to pick up my purse and pull on my coat. I move about the dining area, straightening up the chairs and switching off the lights on the Christmas tree. Realizing that it’s been a while since I’ve heard from Jake, I pull my phone out of my purse and check my messages.

     Tow truck arrived. Trying to catch a cab.

     I let out a sad sigh, realizing that the last text was sent over an hour ago. I take one last look at the second-floor Christmas tree before I make my way back to the bar to turn off the stereo. I reach out to press the OFF switch when a voice catches my attention.

     “Hey, beautiful. Why so sad?”

     I turn around, and I take in a sharp breath when I see Jake standing at the other end of the bar. He looks cold and tired, but the smile he gives me speaks volumes. “Jake!” I reach him in only a few strides, throwing my arms around him and resting my cheek against his chest. He chuckles, and I relish the vibration of his voice. “You made it!”

     “I did.” He wraps one arm around my waist while a hand rests on the back of my head.

     I let out a happy sigh, closing my eyes in contentment. I pull back to look up at him, and I don‘t think my smile can become even wider. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

     He reaches out with a gloved hand to stroke my cheek. “Told you I’d try.” He bends down to kiss me, and I give in eagerly.

     When our kiss ends, I can’t help but ask “Where’s Simone?”

     “She’s home. The cab driver dropped her off first, and I told him to take me here.”

     “I’ve never been so grateful for a lousy transmission.”

     Jake laughs at this, and I’m drawn into another kiss. “Wanna get out of here?” he asks.

     I nod eagerly. It doesn’t take me long to shut off the stereo, lock the front doors, and make sure all the lights are off. Jake slings his duffel over his shoulder and wraps an arm around my waist, and we make our way through the kitchen and out the back. As we walk down the alley, he asks the question that I’m sure has been on his mind all this time.

     “So ... what’s with the antlers?”

@anastacia-lynn

@mypsychoticlove

#jake x oc sweetbitter #sweetbitter jake #jake sweetbitter #sweetbitterstarz #sweetbitter #tom sturridge sweetbitter #tom sturridge #christmas fluff #christmas fic

[aniron48]

I'm just heading to bed, but if you have time I'd like to to hear your deeply held but tipsy opinions on who you would like to see in the next Knives Out Mystery film (whatever/whenever that might be).

Bishy mi vida!!! I hope you are feeling much better and that, either way, you've had a relaxing and cozy holiday. 💜 I have decided to use my tipsy ask box to also say my favorite things about the people asking them, because I am a smooshy drunk. (I don't know how to say the word for this in either Spanish or Enlgish, it means I am usually a happy drink and it makes me love everyone, who knows the word for this? Does smooshy make sense? I am smooshy)! At any rate here are some things I love about bishy: 1) she is so funny. really so funny. not only her posts with Bond photos overlaid with birds tweets or movie reviews, which are amazing, but also her tags--I think she has the highest rate of when I reblog and just hit "omg prev tags" or something like that. and 3) her music lyrics photo sets are 🔥.

I have not forogteen about your actual ask bishy! It is below the cut for glass onion spoilers:

First I think this may not be exactly what you asked, pero I would love to see the franchise continue its tradition of taking down billionaires in the most satisfying way possible. I would love to see Benoit Blanc solve a mystery against the backdrop of a family or person with ties to something like the pharmaceutical or student loan industries, or even political lobbyists. Many of these are US-centric things, however, so I would love to hear what other thematic areas people are interested in as well.

And in terms of actors ya tu sabes, I have to say I would love to see Ben Whishaw in one of these! First because he is an incredible actor and I could see him playing any number of parts well, and second because he and Daniel Craig have such chemistry together as actors, and third because of all the obvious reasons that everybody are already thinking. 🥹 <-- I don't know if that is the right emoji but it is ahrd to see when I am squinting at it.

Other actors: I would love to see Emma Thompson in one because I adore her and would watch her read a grocery list, she is that compelling. Same with Maggie Smith. America Ferrera would be amazing (I have loved her since her days of Ugly Betty and Real Women Have Curves) as an ingenue of some sort, or if we are thinking the next movie would reprise "young woman up against the system working with Benoit Blanc" to take down eg the student loan industry, America would be great in this role I think!

Now I am just shamelessly saying actors I love but while we are at it, Diego Luna y Gael Garcia Bernal, Idris Elba, Kristen Bell, and Allison Janney. 😁 <-- I hope that also is the right emoji.

Thank you so much for this question, bishy--I loved it so much and would love to hear what other people think on this!

#ask box answers #tipsy answers #glass onion #glass onion spoilers #ani is smooshy

[lightning-writes]

good heart (faulty machine of a man) - 14/30

fic summary: bucky meets someone at therapy

chapter summary: bucky tries to find support (alternatively, bucky is a big flirt)

word count: 1880

tags: post endgame, pre tfatws, slow burn, canon divergent, canon compliant, au

warnings: suicide mention, panic attack

a/n: flirty!bucky will never not be my fav!

AO3 MASTERLIST X

At his hearing, Bucky was told that missing therapy is like missing a parole meeting. So, when Raynor allows him to miss their session, it feels like a trap. In a way, it is, because she tells him that she wants him to attend a support group instead and have the moderator sign a form.

“A support group for what?” he’d asked on the phone that morning.

“Pick a trauma.” When he protests and tries to think of a way out of it, Raynor has thought of all the excuses and tricks. “James, just try it.”

She sends him an email with a list of locations and the types of groups she thinks might be helpful to him. He sees one in a school in Greenpoint and decides this is the one.

Rue: hey 4:13 pm

Rue: you’re not on the appt book 4:13 pm

Rue: are you okay 4:14 pm

Rue: is that allowed 4:14 pm

Rue: are you on some sort of avengers mission lol 4:17 pm

Rue: no offense but are there even avengers anymore? 4:39 pm

Rue: i mean ig there’s clint but that’s it? 4:41 pm

Bucky: Raynor is making me go to a support group 5:30 pm

Bucky: Sorry, I just got off the train 5:35 pm

Bucky: I just got here gtg 5:49 pm

Rue: good luck 5:52 pm

After he surveys the school, exits and such, he steps into the back of the meeting. It’s in a large classroom, looks like a music room, and all the chairs face the front of the classroom, toward a podium. The person talking, a short woman with short hair, falters mid sentence when she sees him. He averts his eyes from the few turning to him now, tugging his cap down lower. He finds a seat in the back. She’s talking about her late sister, who was killed by a drunk driver.

“Thank you for sharing, Tessa.” Another woman stands, addressing the room. She looks like a shrink, flowing beige cardigan and pants, braids pinned in a crown. “Does anyone else want to share?” No one volunteers. “Hank, you mentioned something before the meeting. Would you like to share that with everyone else?”

Hank, a man in his sixties, hesitates before hauling himself to his feet. His foot. He has a prosthetic and a cane. The metal clicking sound as he walks to the front feels familiar to Bucky.

“Hey everyone.”

“Hi Hank,” the room greets.

“I’d been coming to this group since my Carrie passed, but uh, another one bites the dust.” His laugh is weak, but some people humor him. “My buddy, Reese, he… he took his life this past Sunday.”

People murmur condolences. Bucky studies Hank, the way his breathing is labored, the downcast of his eyes, the way he clutches his cane and leans into its support.

“We served together,” Hank starts. “He was something of a superstar… and a real people’s person. Every commanding officer loved him like their own son… and he’s the reason I’m still here.” Hank pats his metal leg. “You know, out of all of us, Reese seemed to be the last person we’d ever think there was something going on. He,” his voice breaks as tears start rolling down his leather face, “he re-integrated the best out of all of us. His girl, Maggie, had been his rock overseas and the reason he made it this far.”

(A flash of… something rises in Bucky. He feels his skin prickle with it. He pushes it down. He doesn’t know how much more of this he can handle.)

“Reese was one of the people, uh, ‘dusted’, they say, and when he returned, he found out he had cancer. Lung cancer.” Hank is openly crying now. “And he… he didn’t want to be a burden to ol’ Maggie, so he…”

The group therapy gets up and puts a steady hand on Hank’s shaking shoulder. She whispers something in his ear, her hand moving against his back. He nods, taking the back of his hand to wipe his face.

“Reese was my hero, my brother. It feels like a piece of me is missing, and now I’m left with no one.”

The therapist starts to say something to the whole group about social support and emergency resources, but Bucky’s out in the hall before he hears the end. He blindly opens his phone, to check the time, but clicks the notification.

Rue: you wanna get dinner? 6:45 pm

(He goes to type his answer, but his fingers are trembling. Memories of Steve ebb through his mind, waves of nostalgia and grief and bitter hurt chasing them. He barrels out of the hall, into the playground area.)

“Bucky?” he hears in his hands. Dilated eyes land on his phone. He realizes he called her. He puts the phone to his ear. “Bucky, are you okay?”

(His voice is unreliable. His chest tightens. He’s embarrassed. He’s panicked.)

“James,” Rue prompts softly, “draw a square with your finger. On a table, on your leg, on the floor. Are you doing it?”

He sits on the asphalt, near a seesaw, and runs his trembling finger against the ground. The grit under his skin feels good.

“I’m going to assume yes,” her voice is light. “On the down stroke, inhale… when you go across, hold that breath. On the up stroke exhale… when you go across, hold again.”

He hears her lead by breathing in the same pattern. It reminds him of the first time they officially met. He follows silently. She tells him to keep drawing the square, to focus on the way his chest rises and falls, to focus on his feeling under his finger as he draws.

“You’re safe, Bucky,” she whispers. He takes a shaky breath. “You with me, old man?” He huffs a chuckle, hearing the smile in her voice. “Where are you? Let me meet you.”

////

“God, you are so intense.”

Bucky looks to his left and sees Rue. She’s wearing all black - black coat over black sweater, black jeans, and combat boots - but an easy smile. Her face is fresh and pink from the cold.

(It’s only on the way back to the subway, he realizes they’d been matching.)

“You’re so…” She tilts her head down, looks through her brows, and devoids her features of amusement.

“I’m vigilant.”

“You’re off the clock.” She loops her arm through his. “C’mon, I’m craving a burger.”

They find themselves in a chain burger place, where Rue flirts with the young cashier. His already ruddy face reddens more. Bucky sees her wink at him as she tips him.

“Do you flirt with everyone?”

(The question surprises them both, but he sees the delight in her dark eyes.)

“Are you jealous, James?” Her eyes search his unyielding face. “I’d flirt with you, but I don’t think you’d be able to handle it.”

“I could keep up.” Her eyebrows shoot up at his sure tone; he shrugs.

(There’s a shift between them, he notices, and it’s easier. It’s like they broke through the seal of whatever held either of them back. He’s not sure whether it’s their vulnerability or all events leading to this moment, but he’s not complaining.)

The waitress running out orders passes them, skirt flitting past. Bucky notices her legs.

“Okay, ladies’ man.” He knows his answer made her falter. Or maybe, she caught him checking out the waitress. “Show me what you’ve got, then.”

“Well, that would be inappropriate,” he says, putting on a pious tone. He gives her a teasing look. “HIPAA and all that.”

“Right,” she drawls. She looks unfazed, but he wonders if that’s a mask. She spots something over his shoulder, so she says, “Flirt with the server. If you get her number, it’ll prove you still got the moves.”

Bucky stares at her a second too long. Rue doesn’t flinch.

“I’m not going to flirt with someone unsolicited.”

“Trust me, it’ll be solicited.” 

(Bucky raises an eyebrow. Are you saying she’ll be interested or are you saying you’d be interested? he thinks)

She raises one back. “Unless you’re scared.”

Bucky heaves a sigh and rolls his eyes. He might be acting accosted by this whole affair, but his interest is finally piqued.

(He finally feels powerful, knowing this is an area in which he excels.)

He glances over at the waitress again. She seems about the same age as Rue. Her long thin braids are pulled back and held with a bright green elastic. She has a bright smile as she interacts with a family of three, parents and a young child. She leans to place a plate in front of the child. Her skirt lifts in the back, exposing more of her brown legs.

“Okay.”

He’s game. He squares his shoulders and runs a hand through his hair. Rue tries to hide her unbridled interest behind a mildly amused expression. When she schools her features, he knows that means she’s up. The same leggy waitress comes over and sorts out their food.

“Aren’t you cold, doll?” Bucky asks, leaning back in his chair easily. He lets her see him drag his gaze up her legs.

“Um,” she instantly flustered, “it’s part of the uniform.” She tries to smile, but he can see the mild panic in her eyes. “I’m running around anyway.”

He relaxes his stare to something more sensuous. “That you are.”

(If she turns her attention to Rue for help, he’ll stop. If she looks at him, even briefly, he’ll continue.)

“Is there anything else I can get for you guys?” she asks. Her eyes flit to him, then lower.

“Nothing you can give us right now,” Bucky says. He notices the way her breath catches at the base of her throat. “What was your name again?”

“Evie.” She plays with a braid idly, their gazes connect. He smirks.

“Evie,” he repeats slowly. “Thank you, Evie. We’ll let you know when we need you.”

“My pleasure.”

(His eyes tell her it will be. She gets the message, bolder now. He notices the way her hips swing as she walks away.)

“What the shit,” Rue hisses. She’s fanning herself with her hand dramatically. She’s on the verge of laughter, shock written over her features. “That was the most intense smolder I’ve ever seen. Are you a fucking vampire? Holy shit.”

Bucky shrugs. He reminds her, “I was a spy. I had to be both invisible and extremely noticeable… whatever the occasion calls for.” He picks up his burger and bites into it.

She follows suit, humming in delight as she does. “God, I love this place.”

Evie returns, approaching like a ghost. “I, um, brought extra napkins,” her flustered act is back, “in case you need them.”

“Thank you, darling,” he smiles like a shark.

(Involuntarily, his eyes pass over her once more.)

“James,” Rue is laughing. She’s rifling through the napkins until she gets to the last one. “You did it, you’ve still got it.” She hands him the napkin.

(He sees the loopy blue letters of Evie’s name and a phone number. There’s a light brown kiss over it. It also says, so you can warm me up.)

#bucky barnes #winte soldier #the winter soldier #female reader #female oc #bucky x oc #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky x woc!reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky angst #bucky fic #bucky barnes au #marvel fanfiction #marvel au #marvel #mcu #hurt/comfort #mutual pining #whump #fanfiction #slow burn #friends to lovers #good heart (faulty machine of a man) #fmoam #fmoam new chapter post

[rogeriswater]

Don’t Leave Me Now

vii

This work contains fictionalized versions of real events asnd people. Most details won’t be accurate to real life.

tags for this chapter: p.o.v changes, near infidelity, kissing, groping, implied smut 

~m.r~

My first show with my new band was over. I thought it went really well, and the boys did too because they came up to me one by one to tell me so.

"That was great, Maggie!" Richard said, giving me a side hug. "The crowd really loved you"

Nick gave me a side hug as well. "Can't wait to get in the studio with you and record your first album with us"

When Syd approached me, he took my hand and then bowed to me. "You were wonderful, our lady dearest!" He then kissed my hand in a friendly fashion, of course.

"Thank you, boys" I curtsied to them. Richard and Nick walked off to see Julie and Lindy. Syd had wandered off as well. Once I was left alone, Roger approached me.

His arms wrapped around me in a hug. "Sunshine, you were absolutely divine tonight" I smiled as I put my head against his chest. "Did you have fun though? Are you going to stay with me?" He cleared his throat, realizing what he had just said. "I mean us"

I craned my head so I was looking up at him. My chin was still resting on his chest. "Of course I will. I think this is what I'm meant to do"

"I think so too" Roger smiled. It seemed like he wasn't letting me go anytime soon. I mean, I didn't mind. The two of us just stood there, still on stage. Anyone could look at us and assume that we were a couple.

"Maggie!" I yelped when another pair of arms wrapped around me from behind. Clea had managed to pull me from Roger, and lifted me off the ground a bit. She's always been able to do that, even when we were young. I would always ask her to give me piggy back rides. "You were amazing, girlie!"

"Thank you, Clea" I shrieked when she spun me around. This was fun when we were younger but now I feel like she's gonna drop me. "Put me down now!" I could see Roger watching us and laughing. "It's not funny!"

"I don't know, sunshine!" He said through his laughter. "It looks funny from here!"

"Clea!"

"Fine!" She said. She put me down. Clea was now laughing with Roger. "She used to let me do that all the time" I smiled as I poked her in the side. She swatted my hand away. "So, Lindy was saying everyone was going over to hers and Nick's house. Unless, you have somewhere better to be?"

"I should be getting home. I don't want to keep Billy waiting" I said. Clea's eyes rolled and Roger's smile dropped.

"Maggie, Billy can be alone for one night! How many times has he left you home all alone?" I sighed, crossing my arms over my chest. Clea put her hands on my shoulder. "Don't let your fun tonight end here. We're gonna go hang out with our new friends, we're gonna get drunk, and we're gonna laugh and talk and dance! Sound good, girlie?"

Clea tickled at my sides. She got a giggle out of me. "You're right!" I stepped away from Clea and I went over to Roger. I hugged his arm and leaned against him. "You're not expected home yet, are you pumpkin?"

Roger chuckled and buried his nose into my hair. "Worried I'm gonna leave you, sunshine?"

"Pfft! No" I said. "Judy just seems like the type to worry about her boyfriend's whereabouts all night"

"She knows we had a show. She knows that means I won't be back until late or morning" He pulled away and caressed my face. "I just wanna have fun with you. I don't want to think about her tonight"

"That's fair. Sorry I brought it up"

"Don't apologize" He kissed the top of my head. "Let's go tell the others we're ready to leave, yeah?"

~r.w~

There were two cars waiting to take us to Nick and Lindy's. Both of them had enough room to fit four people. Nick, Lindy, Julie, and Richard got in the first car. Syd, Clea, Maggie and I got in the second.

"You and Clea are very close" I said to Maggie. She was squeezed in between Clea and I. "How long have the two of you been friends?"

"Since the very first day of primary school" Maggie said. A smile came to her face and she started giggling. "A girl stole my biscuits and Clea walked up with a pair of scissors and cut the girls pigtails off"

Clea laughed. "Oh, I remember that! I had to be closely supervised using scissors afterwards"

"You seem like you would have been quite the trouble maker" Syd said to Clea.

"Oh, I was. None of the teachers liked me. Then Maggie here was a Miss Goody Two-shoes"

"That's only because I wanted to keep on the teachers' good side! Lord knows you were always pissing them off" Maggie said.

"Then came eleventh year, and you got your first and only boyfriend, and then you forgot all about me" She pouted at Maggie. I could tell she was only joking with her though.

"Not true!" Maggie argued. She put her head against my shoulder. "Please, no discussing of my marriage tonight"

Yes, please. I don't need to be reminded that she's married. I'm hoping that I can at least get a moment alone with Maggie. Maybe steal a kiss. The car had pulled up to the house. Syd and Clea got out first. Then, Maggie and I did.

I put my arm around her waist and pulled her close to me as we walked up the house. "Would it be alright if you and I got a moment alone later?"

"Of course" Maggie's long lashes fluttered as she looked up at me. "But let's have a drink with our friends first" She stepped away and walked ahead of me, swaying her hips. She stopped when she was in the doorway to turn and look at me. She sent a wink my way before disappearing inside.

~m.r~

Lindy and I headed into the kitchen while everyone else settled themselves in the sitting room. Lindy was reaching into the cupboards and pulling out some glasses. She also pulled out a couple of bottles of hard liquor. "Maggie, I didn't get the chance to say it earlier but you rocked tonight"

"Thanks" I said. I went over beside her to help her pour some drinks. "Do you guys always hang out like this after a show?"

"Yep, so you better get used to it!" Lindy winked at me. She bumped her shoulder against mine. "You and Roger seem to be pretty close"

"I swear, that all we are is friends" I quickly said. I was thinking that maybe Lindy would go babbling off to Judy.

"You can relax" Lindy assured. She rubbed my arm. "I won't say anything to Jude" I smiled at her appreciatively. "Nick mentioned you were married"

"Yeah" I nodded. All the drinks were poured. Lindy was placing them on a tray. "I've been married to Billy for six years"

"And he didn't come to the show tonight?" I shook my head. Lindy frowned. "Oh, hun, I'm sorry"

"Can I be honest?" Lindy nodded. I had to admit, I was really taking a liking to her. "The last time we had an actual date was like three years ago"

"Three? What about sex?" Lindy's eyes widened and her hand covered her face. "Sorry. That's personal"

"I don't mind, honestly" I told her. And I really didn't. I'm not even this honest about my marriage to Clea, but that's only because I already knew her opinion on my marriage. "I mean we still have a pretty active sex life"

Sex is great and everything but I do miss going out and doing something romantic with Billy. I miss the intimacy of our date nights. Especially times where he would take me out dancing just so he could hold me close all night. But these days it feel like his work was more important than me.

"I can see that you don't want to talk about this anymore so we don't have to" Lindy said. "Would you be a dear and carry the tray out?"

"Of course" I said. I grabbed the tray and followed Lindy out of the kitchen. We joined the others who were waiting patiently for us in the sitting room. I passed the drinks around, being thanked each time I did so. The last drink I passed off to was Roger's.

His fingers brushed against mine as he took the glass from me. He smiled as muttered out a thank you to me. I returned the smile and grabbed my own drink. I sat in the empty space next to Roger.

I threw one leg over his lap. In response, Roger's hand touched my thigh. He kept his hand in place as he rubbed small circles on my thigh. We all conversed with one another. I was asked a lot of questions. Most of them were just general questions about me. It made sense. These boys knew each other well enough, but I was the new girl.

 I had finished bringing up the fact that I was currently enrolled in law school. "That's impressive" Richard said. "Why'd you want to be a lawyer?"

I came up with my amusing answer. "It's a job where I get to argue that I'm right" Everyone laughed at that. "No, but seriously, I think it decided that to spite Steve. He doesn't think women should have such high class careers"

"And Steve is?" Julie pushed for information.

"The man my mum is married to" I said, no emotion present in my voice. He didn't even deserve to be called my stepdad. I could get into detail about why neither me, or my brother, or my sister liked him, but then we'd be here all night. "Look, Steve is a long story, trust me"

"How do you think he's gonna take it when he learns you're in a band now?" Syd asked.

"He'll be pissed" I shrugged. I couldn't help but smirk as I imagined his pissed off expression. "But it's not like I haven't pissed him off before"

The conversation got round to Nick telling everyone a story. While my attention was focused on him, I felt someone else's focused on me. I took a sip of my drink and looked out of my peripheral vision to see Roger staring at me. He reached over and tucked my hair behind my ear.

"Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?" He said to me.

I felt my face heat up. I smiled and looked at him. "I do recall you calling me lovely earlier"

Roger copied my smile. "Well you are" He cupped my face. "As well as sexy and gorgeous" I bit my lip. His eyes watched as I did so. "I think we should talk somewhere more private, don't you?"

"Where'd you have in mind?"

Roger gently pushed my legs off of his own and he stood up. He held out his hand to me and I took it. He helped to pull me off the couch. "Come on then, sunshine" I let him lead me to whatever room he was taking me. I knew the others were watching us but I didn't care.

~r.w~

I really couldn't take it anymore. I needed to be alone with Maggie. Even if it was just to talk with her. But that wasn't the intention I had right now as I brought her into the guest room. I sat on the small couch that was there. Maggie looked around the room for a moment before sitting beside me.

"So, we're alone now" Maggie said, breaking the silence that was between us momentarily.

"So we are" I said. I let my arm drape over her shoulder. She responded by leaning into me. "I was wondering. Do you write?"

"Poetry" She answered. I bet she wrote beautiful pieces. Maybe she would let me read them sometime. "Why? Are you suggesting I write a song one day?"

I grinned at her answer. "If you'd want to"

"Hmm. But you didn't get me alone just to talk a about writing, did you?" I knew she would catch on to me. She's too clever.

"Have you ever cheated before?" I asked her. I know it was a very blunt question but I couldn't help myself. She lifted her head and looked at me.

"What?"

"I think you know what I asked you, sunshine"

She blinked. "No. I've never been with anyone else but Billy"

I kind of felt bad for her. She never knew the touch of another man. I could be the one to show her. I could be hers, and she could be mine. I cupped her face and leaned in so that I could speak into her ear. "I've been wanting you all night, Mags. And I know you're not wearing anything under this dress"

"Roger, I can't—" She wasn't pulling away from me, but I could still hear the hesitation in her voice.

"Please?" I pleaded. I cupped her face. I looked her right in those beautiful blue eyes. "Just for tonight, forget that you're married" I leaned in closer towards her so that our noses were touching. "One kiss at least?"

Maggie didn't say anything. I cupped her face and guided her lips to mine. Fuck, they were so soft and sweet. They felt so perfect against mine. Like her lips were meant for me. Her fingers managed to find their way to tangle in my hair. I let my hands roam her body, stopping to grope her clothed tits.

I gave them a squeeze, causing her to gasp. I took that as an opportunity to let my tongue explore the softness of her mouth. She moaned into my mouth. I let my hands trail even further until they came to the hem of her dress.

 My mouth pulled away from hers. "Can I touch you?" My hand slipped under her dress. I caressed her thigh. I wouldn't move my hand any further unless she wanted me to. "Can I make you cum?"

~m.r~

What was I doing? I'm a married woman who has a husband her loves her dearly waiting at home. Also, Roger had a girlfriend. I may not know Judy very well but I also know I don't want to hurt her like this.

"Roger, wait" I grabbed his hand, pulling it out from under my dress.

"What's wrong?" He asked.

"I'm sorry" I couldn't help the tears that started forming in my eyes. "I can't do this. God, I shouldn't have even kissed you..." I let his hands go. Roger probably hated me now.

"Don't cry, sunshine" Roger's voice was soft and comforting. He cupped my cheek and wiped away the tears that stained it. "If you think I'm mad, I'm not"

"Are you sure?" I asked.

"I should be the one apologizing" He played with a strand of my hair that was now hanging in front of my face. "I know you're married but I can't help but feel this pull towards you"

"Do you think you could handle us just being friends?" I needed to know now. I needed to know if being in this band was going to make things difficult between us. "If I'm going to stay in this band, I need to know if you can control yourself"

It wasn't hard to miss Roger's hesitation to answer but he managed one. "Yes" He leaned in and was about to press his lips to mine, but I stopped him but putting my finger to his.

"Friends don't kiss each other" I said.

Roger pulled away but chuckled as he did so. "Right. No kissing"

There was a knock on the door. It was then opened by Lindy who peeked her head in. "Roger, Judy is on the phone. She wants to know when you'll be home" Roger didn't say a word. He just sighed as he got up and left the room. Lindy looked at me. "Did you two—"

"No" I said. I mean we kissed and he groped me a little, but I stopped it before we got any further. "It's getting late and I think I should get home. Would you be willing to drive me?"

Lindy smiled. "Of course" I followed her out of the room. We joined the others in the sitting room, with the exception of Roger. I heard him talking with Judy on the phone in the kitchen. "Nick, I'm taking Maggie home"

"Wait!" I heard Clea call out. She got up and stumbled over towards us. I could tell she was drunk. "Could I crash at your place, Mags?"

"I suppose, but you know Billy—"

"Fuck Billy" Clea spat as she walked past me. I just rolled my eyes. It's not like Billy would care anyways. He and Clea tolerate each other for my sake.

"Good night, Mags" Richard and Nick both said to me, giving me a wave.

Syd, however, came over to me and engulfed me in a tight hug. "See you soon, shining star"

Syd's nickname made me smile. "Shining star?"

He pulled away and smiled at me. "You're gonna be a big star someday and you're gonna shine! You'll shine brighter than all of them" Wow, that was really sweet of Syd to say.

"Us girls will all have to get together sometime and have a day together" Julie mentioned.

"Yes we will!" I agreed, winking at her.

"Ready then?" Lindy asked me. "I think Clea's outside and I'm scared she might've passed out on us"

"Yeah, let's go" Just before I could leave with Lindy, Roger peeked out from the kitchen. Our eyes met. He smiled and mouthed 'sweet dreams, sunshine' to me. I waved to him before following Lindy out.

...

Lindy pulled up in front of my building. "Will you two be okay walking up?" She was so sweet.

"Yes, Lin, we'll be fine" I assured her.

I was seated in the passenger seat and Clea was in the back. She leaned over and tapped on my shoulder. "Mags, if you give me your keys, I can head up there"

I reached into my purse. I found my keys and placed them in Clea's hand. "I better not find you arguing with Billy when I get up there"

Clea smirked. "No promises, bestie!" She kissed me on the cheek and got out of the car. Lindy and I watched as she disappeared into the building.

"Why doesn't Clea like Billy that much anyways?" Lindy asked me.

"She thinks that Billy doesn't put an effort into our marriage but he does" Well, he tries. "Then I think sometimes she thinks he's cheating on me" I explained.

"Would he?"

"No. He loves me so much. In school, all the girls were fawning over him but I'm the one he wanted to be with. They threw themselves at him but he only paid attention to me" I got butterflies in my stomach just thinking about it. It comforted me knowing that I could still feel this way about Billy. "I'm still mad about him even after eleven years"

"Eleven? You've been with him since you were fifteen?" I nodded and Lindy smiled. "Well, you were very lucky to have found the one at a young age"

"I am" I stepped out of the car and walked round to Lindy's side. Her window was rolled down so I could talk to her. "Call me anytime, Lin"

"That goes for you too, hun" She said. I stepped away from the car, waving at Lindy as she drove off. I made my up to my flat. When I opened the door, Billy was sitting at our dining table. Clea was already passed out on the couch with a blanket draped over her.

I walked past Billy, stopping to run my fingers through his hair. He grabbed my other hand and pressed a kiss to my palm. "How was tonight, my love?"

"It went really well" I said. "I wish you would've been there though"

"I know, and I'm sorry" Billy grabbed me by the waist and pulled me onto his lap. "I can see how much this means to you and I need to start supporting you. So next time you do something Pink Floyd related, I want to be there with you"

"You mean that?"

"Absolutely" He kissed me gently. "I took a listen to the album you bought. The music really isn't that bad" A snore came from Clea. The both of us looked over to her. "You could've told me she would be spending the night"

"It was last minute, okay? I'm sorry" I kissed him this time. "Did you give her the blanket?"

"I may not like her but she's your friend and I'll still treat her with some decency" Billy said. I hummed and nuzzled against his neck. I started playing with the button on his shirt.

"Will you make love to me tonight?" I purred.

"You'll have to keep quiet" With that, he picked me up and carried me to our bedroom. We undressed each other and made love gently. It made me forget about the fact that Roger had kissed me earlier.

~r.w~

Well, I got my kiss from Maggie. I saw the regret in her eyes when she stopped me from going further than that. Was I mad at her? Of course not. How could I be? I'm the one who kissed her, knowing full well she's married.

I wasn't listening to a word Judy was saying as she spoke to me on the phone. All I could think about was Maggie. It was gonna be hard to just be friends with her but I was willing to try. For her sake.

I managed to catch a glimpse of Maggie before she left with Lindy and Clea. I wished her sweet dreams and she waved at me. Then, she was gone.

"Roger? Are you even listening to me?" I could hear Judy say.

"Yeah, I'm listening" I replied.

"Well, you're not saying anything"

"That's because I'm letting you talk" No, Judy, I wasn't listening to you at all. I'm thinking about the girl that I'm already falling for and thinking of how I have absolutely no chance with her because I had to find one that was married. But not only married, faithfully married.

Would it be so wrong of me to wish that hopefully Maggie's husband (yes, I know his name is Billy. I just don't want to say it because it leaves a sour taste in my mouth) is secretly having some sort of affair? Would it be wrong of me to wish that Maggie finds out and comes to me for comfort? Would it be so wrong of me to say if it happened, that I'd leave Judy in an instant just so I could be with her? Would it be wrong of me to say that Maggie Robinson made me feel a way no other girl has made me feel before?

Fuck, this is going to be harder than I thought it would be.

#roger waters #roger waters x ofc #roger waters fanfiction #pink floyd #pink floyd fanfiction #maggie robinson #dlmn #my oc

[slashingdisneypasta]

Kurt Kelly x Fem!Bitch!Reader || Oneshot

Title: Someone Gets Hurt

Plot: Some little wannabe steals away your boyfriend, Kurt, while also batting her big ass lashes and winning over your friends, too... until you've had enough. No one out bitches you.

Notes:

Obviously, this is inspired by Someone Gets Hurt from Mean Girls except with Regina (The reader) as the heroine.

Warnings: Overall bitchiness, possessiveness (You about Kurt), break ups (Make ups too though so its not too bad ^^), the ruining of another persons relationship (Random girl Lizzie and Kurt's), rapeiness (Ram), sexual references, underage drinking, overage drinking, just LOTS of debauchery over all, a smut bit near the end (Not full), etc.

Was I too proud with you? Was I too cold and forbidding? And you chose her over me Are you kidding?

Watching Kurt and Lizzie together this week has been torture. Terrible, burning, squeezing, not-at-all sexy torture.

Because Kurt, is yours.

He has always been yours. He was yours in kindergarten, he was yours in middle school, and he was yours all through highschool until this, unfortunate and butt fucking ugly, snag. Crossing your arms now and poisoning them with your eyes, you sit in the cafeteria... and think.

Just, think.

You don't gossip with your minions about all the bullshit going on in school, you don't discuss what you're going to do to the freshmen this year, no. Nothing. You're too busy... plotting.

There is no way in hell, that this pee-brained virgin bitch is going to steal your boyfriend, and not get paid back in turn. Its only fair- and you include interest, in your transactions like this.

One eye actually twitches, when Lizzie... the pee brained virgin bitch in question, gives Kurt a peck on the nose - oh so cute, but you don't even have to look at Kurt to see the disappointment flash in his eyes, - and hops off his lap when the bell rings. He has a free period now, you know because so do you and you usually spend it at the back of the football field together, but she has Chemistry, a thing you also know because hell- you just know everything. That's a basic fact. The whole school knows it and love that you never have to explain how you just fucking know shit.

But even being all knowing does not make you feel better, knowing that itty bitty roach-cunt has her claws embedded in your poor, weak-willed... ex boyfriends,... heart. Or his penis, more likely. Metaphorically speaking, obviously, because Lizzie's the 'Mary'est whore in the land of Westerberg High.

That doesn't really matter though. Either way, he's with her now and not you, and that just wont do.

Maggie, your right hand babe, gets up from your lunch table and leaves for her next class, too. And its only until she's out of sight, that you notice the piece of paper she left behind. Rolling your eyes, a growl of annoyance escapes you and you sigh- turning away from Kurt and Ram's table to see what the fuck it is. The reprieve is almost palpable, not looking at him anymore. It feels a little better- but not by much. And certainly not enough for you to forget what fuckery is going on.

Picking up the piece of paper in one perfectly manicured hand, you see that its an invitation. "Hmm... " Worrying the inside of your cheek, you think; This is interesting.

A Halloween party...

A gleeful smirk quirks slightly at the corners of your lips.

Kurt always did have a thing for Halloween.

~

And what you meant by 'Kurt always did have a thing for Halloween'- is 'Kurt always did have a boner for your Halloween costumes'. For the past several years, since the two of you blossomed with the help of puberty, you have used your assets as an advantage - because why else have them? - ; With the help of lace tights, push up bra's, winged eyeliner and red lipstick.

This year you've pulled together your favourite costume yet, which is fitting for the task at hand and the fact that its senior year- this may be your last chance to put these bottom dwelling highschool chuckleheads in their place.

I mean, you hope not but its basically a given.

Looking around the party as you walk in, you figure its just the same as any party Ram has thrown before. And his house is perfect for it, you'll give him that. The lights a turned down low enough that everyone looks a little hot, cooler's full of ice and alcohol are set up so you're never too far from a fix and thanks to his houses sound system the music is loud enough to make you think for a couple hours that you're in a place between reality and your dreams; A perfect set up for mistakes and one wild night.

But you aren't here to get drunk and kiss a loser, except for Kurt; You're here to take back the goddamn crown. Which getting Kurt back, will do. It'll humiliate Lizzie, and that's really all you want out of life right now.

Prowling through the crowd - which still knows to part for you, despite your current, slightly lower social standing, - in your knee high, shiny black leather boots, you look for someone to talk to. You know Maggie's here somewhere but that bitch is on her last life with you, after she said Lizzie's hair looked nice the other day. And you think some silent treatment will set her straight.

"Oh- Hi Ram." You find the host in the backyard, about to push an unsuspecting demoness into in a very sheer red blouse into the pool - which would doubtlessly make the blouse more of a red tint to her skin rather then any kind of coverage, which Ram well knows, - , and he double takes when he sees you. A sleazy, mischievous grin slops over his face at the sight, which makes you roll your eyes.

Deeply.

"Ohhh, heyyyy, Y/N!" He has to yell over the sound of the music and the other party-goers, not that you would mind if you didn't hear anything he said. He hasn't got a whole lot of substance, Ram, so you can basically assume that rolling your eyes is always the answer to anything he's saying. His eyes shift back, anxiously, to the girl he's currently got a hit out on, but you just raise your eyebrows sharply at him and he's at attention. "I didn't know you were gonna come! You know, with the state of things... "

Oh, he's so obnoxious. And dumb! So, so dumb. He doesn't know the half of your shit. Yet he still runs his mouth... Rolling your eyes once again, you flip some hair behind your head. "Oh don't worry your pretty little head about that, Ram." Eyes flickering around the party some more, searching for your own target, you rest your hands on your hips that are tightly bound, in various layers of violet georgette cloth. The witches hat on your head is pinned down, so theirs no chance of it flying off. You have a train of thinner fabric hanging down the back of your short-short skirt, and your tight tube top reveals exactly the shapes you require it to. "I'll be perfectly fine- oh, have you seen Kurt anywhere?"

"Uhhhhhhhhhhh I think I saw him and Liz against a wall earlier- but by the looks of Liz, I doubt they're in a situation like that anymore." He chuckles, dumbly. The stupid boy has a slur in his voice that you hadn't noticed before but probably should've known would be there. But you're sure focusing in on him now, jealousy burning in your eyes at his description. What does that mean??

"What?"

A geek walks by, toting a bottle in his hands that Ram snatches for himself. As the kid continues by, faster now due to the angry look in Ram's eyes and the animalistic growl that slips from the footballers lips, you continue to glare bullets at Ram. He takes a messy swig of his beer before continuing. "Just sayin', Y/N. Your friend's a prude. Won' even let Kurt get to second base with 'er or anything. So I'd say Kurt's, probably, uhhh... by the pool table, now." He shrugs big round shoulders then, as relief and mirth wash over you. So he didn't mean they'd have moved their dirty little adventure to somewhere they could really get down, or anything. He means quite the opposite.

A smirk graces your red painted lips.

"Well- enjoy your party." You shrug, not really caring as his eyes shine... turning back to the demon girl who's just laughing with her friends; He sure will. Eyes narrowing, you mutter a bitter "Dick." under your breath, as a final bid to Ram.

Turning on your heel, you head back into the house. You've been here plenty of times with Kurt and know exactly where the pool table is (And how uncomfortable it is to be bent over) and sure enough- there he is.

Your boyfriend.

Or, soon-to-be, once-again boyfriend.

He's standing back with a stick, waiting for his turn as he laughs with some over football boneheads. Lizzie isn't here, but you suppose she could have gone to get a drink or talk to one her - your, - friends, but where she is actually doesn't concern your in this moment. All you can do right now, is stand and stare.

God, he's hot.

You miss him; You really do. And, admittedly- not just because he can fuck you like no one else.

But your moment passes, and you gather your wits. Ready.

You're hot, you're smart, and you're ruthless. You can do this.

Saddling up beside Kurt, a genuine smile slips across your face as you look up at him; Running a hand back through your hair. "Hey, Kurt." Slightly widening your eyes, you raise a brow as he turns to look down at you. "What's up?"

Like- its been a while. What have I missed?

Immediate 'Oooooh's and 'Oh no the ex- Kurt watch out!'s erupt from his meathead athlete friends, but what you care about is how Kurt struggles for a moment to tear his eyes away from yours, like the eyeliner you perfected and the colour and the just- you, has hypnotised him. He flashes his friends a wicked grin, waiving them off as he turns to put his body between you, and the group. It puts you so close together- and you sure don't step back any.

Then his eyes flicker down to the rest of you- and he really has a problem looking away. "Oh, uh, hey Y/N. N-nothing much. Uh... you look... "

A gentle chuckle flutters out of you, resting a hand on your right hip. "What? Black cat caught your tongue?"

Jesus- even the mention of that particular muscle reference to him does something to you. And being this close to him again, and seeing his reaction to your outfit... its all just so right. The way things should be.

He opens his mouth to say something else, but immediately closes it again on remembering something. A seriously awkward hm sound escapes him which you don't quite get yet, but you decide that you don't need to.

"So... " You start, getting rid of the tough bravado suddenly... letting awkwardness seep into your tone; Your appearance. On purpose. Eyes downcast, you let your arms slide down to your sides again, lacing your fingers together in front of you for a moment, pretending you're at a loss for words. "Um... maybe this is... weird... "

"What?" A big hand ghosts over your hip- you can just feel his skin graze against you.

You look up to catch his gaze again suddenly, lips and eyebrows scrunching after a moment, unsurely. "Uh, well... " Chewing innocently on your bottom lip, you hold your arms behind your back; not-at-all meaning to push out your chest more. No, not at all... "Me coming up to talk to you... since the break up... "

A hiss escapes him, as he suddenly, seemingly, like just seeing you had him returning to old habits, remembers that fact himself and takes a step back from you. Your brows knit together, up at him- perfectly pitiful.

"Oh man- yeah. Maybe. Fuck!" He runs a hand up through his hair, looking convincingly tortured.

Already!

You could rejoice.

Oh, Kurt... we've only just started.

Sighing, you look away again. "Look, I'm sorry. I just... well, Kurt, I've missed you!"

Suddenly his eyes, still and focused, turn more sternly down on you and your insides squirm at it. Like muscle memory, your body screams for you to back up; Get on your knees, bat your lashes. Ask what's wrong, Daddy?

His eyes narrow, and you resist the temptation to smirk. "Oh- no. No, Y/N. I know what you're doing, okay? I'm not dumb! This is all just too... too... " The fact that he cant even really speak, even as he's trying to be all tough and put up walls between you two, really gives you confidence. You must still really have an effect on him- as you should. Of course you do. One week with a little lily livered slut bag does not erase an entire lifetime between two people. Kurts lips curl into a scowl. "You're not like this." He states, and you raise your brows. Oh? "You're manipulating me, aren't you? Come on, Y/N!"

His tone is pleading. He's begging, you.

Damn, he must really want Miss Lizzie's little ass.

After a moment, you shrug. "Okay, whatever, you got me." Shedding the innocent act, you lean back on the pool table as the boys continue to play; Laying yourself out for him. "Does that mean I was lying? No, I really do miss you."

He scoffs. "Yeah, right." Rolling his own eyes, he focuses his gaze off somewhere else in the party- rather then on you. "All you care about is your reign of terror."

Oh... he knows that's not true.

But still, if he's going to play that way- "Yeah, sure- and all you care about is pussy." Shrugging, you drum your fingers bordly against the edge of the table on either side of you. "I guess we're a pair."

"Fuck, Y/N... you know you're... y-you're... Damn, that I love you. You fucking know that." He hisses, getting mad. And you inwardly smirk.

There it is...

Tightening your grip now, you look up at him to see he's once again looking at you. And for a moment, amongst all the madness that party's are- it feels like its just you two. "And you know... I love you."

Pushing off the pool table, you stalk towards him and trace your hands up his chest; Locking your arms around his neck lazily, and resting your chest against his. And you can see it. You can see, the struggle inside him about whether to just give into you- and your tits and your lips and your hips, and- just, you! Or to stay away. Because you're poison; Even you're well aware of that fact.

You're like a boa constrictor. You get yourself wrapped around your victim and you squeeze, and squeeze, and squeeze... until you have them just how you want them. Moulded into a shape that works well, for you.

But he's a lion. Imposing, and selfish, and self serving. And too big for you to ruin.

Its like you said; You're a pair.

And you cannot give him up.

"Kurt... come on." Leaning up, and talking in a quiet, just-for-him voice now, your lips brush against his and he lets out a shuddering breath. "We belong together, don't we? Its us- forever. You've known it since second grade. Sure, it took me a few more years to realise it too, but we're here now." Sincerity bleeds into your tone; Something you can't help when he looks like he wants to kiss you so badly, like that. "It can't be you and her." It cant. Tilting your head to the side, teasingly, you smirk mischievously; Just for him. "Is she going to fuck you like I do?"

"Shit... " Kurt mutters, eyes stuck on your lips. His hands find your waist, gathering you up against him roughly like he always does when he just wants you. Animalistically, wherever you are- whoever sees be fucking damned.

But he still isn't taking you. And that's a problem.

Brushing a thumb over his bottom lip, you turn your head like your making out to kiss him- but don't. Furrowing your eyebrows, you look pleading at him for an answer. "Was it all a lie, then? With us? Were we?- "

And that does it- he's had enough- he's at boiling point- Lips smash into yours, crossing the centimetre of space between them and he doesn't fuss around at all, to warm up. Your tongues connect almost instantly, and in 0.2 seconds, you two are that moaning, making out mess couple that every party has.

Through your lust filled haze, you can just about feel victorious.

A few moments after that your back hits the closest wall, and your legs wrap around his waist as he holds you up- you two know the drill by now. Kurt's grinding his raging hard on deliciously through his jeans into your bare cunt- moaning and muttering something into your cheek as he sloppily makes his way down to your breasts about you being such a slut.

You REALLY don't mind.

Eyes half lidded, you catch sight of Lizzie in the crowd behind Kurt. The crowd that, apart from her, doesn't care at all what the two of you are doing.

You smirk absolutely evilly towards her, before mouthing 'mine'.

#Kurt Kelly x Reader #Kurt Kelly x Fem!Reader #Bitch Reader #Mean Girl Reader #Mean Girls #Mean Girls the Musical #Heathers #Heathers x Reader #Kurt Kelly x Reader Oneshot #Ram Sweeney