#i did some redecorating and then i was just. with my family

[javiscigarette]

Silent Night

Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: You’re home for the holidays and Joel isn't gonna let a drinking contest or a house full of people stop him.

Warnings: PWP ofc, established relationship, mentions of drinking/alcohol, having to keep quiet?, oral (f&m receiving), thigh grinding, creampie, breeding kink, come play, getting caught, I think that's all lmk if I missed anything

w/c: 6.6k

a/n: hiii everyone! I am in fact alive! I'm finally on break from school and this is just a lil something I wrote real quick bc I've been in the holiday spirit since before October even ended hehehe :) Anyway, thank u to the actual loml @undrthelights for beta reading and finding the perfect pics!! It's nice to be back! Please leave a comment letting me know if you liked it, support is what keeps writers going!! Love u all!!

my masterlist

Your hips grind a little harder against his thigh, a soft sight falling from your lips as he licks and sucks at the spot under your ear that drives you absolutely wild. “I don't think I can be quiet” you whisper, gasping softly when his tongue swipes over your pulse.  "You can" he mumbles against the side of your neck, the vibrations of his voice and his warm breath against your skin sending burning hot sparks down your spine. “You can do whatever I ask, can’t you baby?”

You can hear them downstairs, muffled sounds of Joel and several other of your family members talking and laughing while they sip on the fancy whiskey that your dad was saving for the occasion. You opted out of it, quickly taking up the offer of the first hour or two of alone time you’ve had since you arrived at your parents house two days ago instead. You figured Joel could use the time too, talking with your dad and uncles and cousins about whatever men talk about when they’re doing whiskey tasting in the mancave of a basement. 

You managed to avoid getting roped into watching a shitty Hallmark Christmas movie with the rest of your family or helping them prep for the big dinner tomorrow. After successfully sneaking away to your old childhood bedroom that’s now redecorated as a simple guest room, you're left with nothing to do besides relax. First up was a long shower with the water so hot you nearly scalded your skin, and now you’re cozied up in bed, nose buried deep in the middle of your book while the rest of the house buzzed with muted background noise. 

Time passes without you noticing, too engrossed in your book to keep track, but eventually the bedroom door creaks open, pulling you back to reality. You’re about to tell off whoever is at the door for interrupting you, but you immediately soften when Joel slips inside, quietly closing the door behind him. 

He looks so sweet, wrapped up in a thick dark brown sweater, his curls flopping over his forehead, a light dusting of pink on his cheeks and the bridge of his nose with a lopsided smile. His eyes are soft, warm, and a bit glassy as he looks at you like you’re the best thing he ever did see.

"Think your dad is trying to kill me" he says, his words slurring just a bit as he crosses the room over to the bed.

You giggle, watching him plop down on the bed on his back, his head rolling over to look at you, "Are you surprised? He does this to you every year."

It's true, every holiday at your parents house, your dad insists on the whiskey "tasting", which is really just him pouring heavy handed shots and glasses and seeing who's going to be the last one to tap out. Usually it's just him and his brothers in the end, hashing out some decades old sibling rivalry in the form of a drinking contest. And ever since the first time you brought Joel home for the holiday five years ago, your father has insisted on dragging him down there and challenging him too.

The first year was the worst with Joel not heeding any of your warnings about how much liquor your dad would actually push on him. Joel was so sick by the end of the night that he made best friends with the toilet and passed out on the couch, then spent most of the next morning with a massive hangover, apologizing profusely to your dad about it who just laughed and said that he can try again next year.

Thankfully, Joel knows his limits now and has made peace with the fact that he'll never beat your dad at his own game. It doesn't mean that the challenge doesn't still stand.

"No" he mumbles, a dopey smile spreading across his face, "Guess I jus' never expect him to pour shots big enough to knock out a horse"

"How many did you have this time?" You ask, bookmarking your place in the book before setting it aside, sitting up a little straighter and adjusting the pillows behind your back.

"Jus' three."

"Oh, so you are  just a lightweight then?"

"I'm not a fuckin' lightweight" he grumbles with a dramatic pout. 

You laugh as you turn to lay on your side, propping yourself up on your elbow. Your hand instinctively falls to his hair, a small content sigh falling from his lips as your fingertips skate across his hairline and glide through his soft curls.  scooting closer to him and reaching down to run your fingers through his hair, "Okay, baby" you hum, smiling when his eyes fall shut as your nails gently scratch his scalp, "If you say so."

Joel melts under your touch, like a cat basking in the sun, a lazy little grin on his face and a dreamy, far off look in his eyes. His face is still flushed, the tips of his ears and the tops of his cheeks a rosy shade of pink, his lips slightly parted, a few more stray curls falling across his forehead. He looks absolutely gorgeous, and the soft, tender look in his eyes when he finally looks back up at you melts you from the inside out.

You cup the side of his face in your hand and ;ean in to press a lingering kiss to his forehead. "You're so cute when you're drunk" you murmur, moving kissing his cheek.

"M'not drunk"

You pull back to look him in the eye, smiling, "Sure you're not"

"I'm not" he whines, "M'just a lil' tipsy."

"Alright" you hum, pressing a quick kiss to his pouty lips.

Joel follows your mouth with the softest whine when you start to pull back, his large hand cupping the back of your head, holding you still while he kisses you, needy, but still so sweet. The taste of whiskey is heavy on his tongue as it slides against yours, a soft, satisfied noise rumbling in his chest when you part your lips further, kissing him deeper. 

When he finally lets you break the kiss, you're left just a little breathless and dazed, a giddy feeling swirling low in your belly. His pupils are blown when he looks up at you, his lips spit slick and plump, a lopsided smile on his face. He turns a little more on his side facing you, his fingers fiddling with the hem of your t-shirt until his hand slips easily underneath like it was meant to be there. The warmth of his palm smoothing up and down the curve of your spine is soothing, his fingers gently tracing over your ribs and the dip of your waist, the slight scratch of his calluses over your skin sending a shiver down your spine.

His eyes are half-lidded as he stares at your lips, licking his own. Realistically, you knew exactly what was going to happen as soon as he entered the bedroom. You know how he gets when he's like this, soft, sweet, and incredibly needy. With all the amount of times he tugged you into a bar bathroom after he's had a few, or when Tommy drops him off after a night out and he's already halfway to undressing you before the front door even shuts. You know he's trouble like this, but you can never deny him when he's looking at you like that, like you're the only thing he needs, the only thing he's ever needed.

He leans in to kiss you again, slow and sweet, his fingers splaying on your lower back and keeping you close. His mouth moves languidly against yours, the tip of his tongue tracing your bottle lip and his teeth sinking in the slightest bit to nip and tug, pulling a desperate little sound out from the back of your throat. 

He sighs at the small sound and starts to lean into you more, using his weight to roll you over until you're flat on your back with him hovering above you, his forearms on either side of your head with his knees bracketing your hips. The kisses grow hungrier, wetter, more insistent, his mouth moving against yours like he's trying to breathe the very air from your lungs. 

He shifts a bit and you moan softly into his mouth when his thigh slots between yours, the firm muscle of his thigh pushing right up against the apex of your thighs, the perfect amount of pressure to make heat spark and smolder in your belly. He does it again, rocking his thigh up against you just a little harder, swallowing the needy whimper that you let out, the heat and friction making you ache. 

You can’t help but grind against his thigh, the seam of your sweatpants pressing against the damp spot that’s already forming on your panties and digging into your clit just right. You’re chasing the growing pleasure, the firmness of his thigh and the intoxicating taste of whiskey on his soft lips mixed with the faint trace of his peppermint toothpaste. You’d give anything to have him, for him to take you, but the sounds of laughter and chatter coming from downstairs is a rude reminder of reality. 

"Joel" you warn with absolutely no heat in your voice, his lips grazing the sensitive spot under your ear, "We can't.”

He ignores you for a beat, crashing his lips back on yours and kissing you until he needs to come up for air. 

"We can" he says, his voice gravelly and thick with want, the deep rumble vibrating in his chest. "We're bein' real quiet"

His lips trail across the line of your jaw and up your cheek before landing on your mouth again. The slow, lazy drag of his tongue against yours makes you throb, another soft when escaping you and the muscles in your legs and stomach tightening as you make no effort to stop moving against his thigh. 

“Everyone will hear us” you try feebly, knowing it’s futile. 

Joel smirks against your lips, the bastard. “Nah. I’ll be quiet.” 

You know he's a damn liar and a bad one at that. In what world could you be quiet with his hands and mouth on you, with his thick cock buried deep inside you, stretching you out and filling you up so good that your toes curl? And in what world could he be quiet, not running his mouth about how good you feel, how pretty you look stuffed full of him, how well you take him. You know exactly how it'll go, if the numerous failed previous attempts are anything to go by.

But then his lips are on the side of your neck, and you're forgetting why it matters. You let your eyes fall shut as his lips press gentle, wet kisses up and down the column of your throat, the stubble on his cheeks and chin scratching and tickling in the best way. You're quickly forgetting why this was a bad idea to begin with.

Your hips grind a little harder against his thigh, a soft sight falling from your lips as he licks and sucks at the spot under your ear that drives you absolutely wild. “I don't think I can,” you whisper, gasping softly when his tongue swipes over your pulse point. 

"You can" he mumbles against the side of your neck, the vibrations of his voice and his warm breath against your skin sending burning hot sparks down your spine. “You can do whatever I ask, can’t you baby?” 

“I don’t- oh…” 

The rest of your sentence dies on the tip of your tongue as he pushes his thigh against you, grinding it up against your core in a way that has your head spinning and toes curling, the pleasure sharp and delicious as it melts into your veins. 

“That’s right” he murmurs, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of your mouth. “You’ll do whatever I say, huh?” 

There’s a pause and when you open your eyes, his are dark, his pupils blown wide, the deep brown nearly swallowed whole. His hair is tousled and curlier than ever, a few loose strands hanging in his face. His lips are slightly parted, swollen, red, and sick and shiny from your kisses. He’s an absolute sight and you can’t help but nod, eager to do whatever he wants, whatever he asks, because god it’s always worth it. 

His eyes crinkle a bit at the corners and the lopsided smirk on his face widens. He’s the fucking devil. 

Just the thought of him taking you with the rest of the house full of your extended family is making your veins buzz, excitement bubbling low in your belly. But you're well aware of just how thin the walls are and how nosy some members of your family are and you can't fathom how awkward it would be to come down for breakfast the next morning after the whole house heard you getting absolutely railed.

"It’ll be okay" he assures, reading your thoughts, his hands slipping under your shirt again. The fabric bunches up over his wrists as he slides his palms up your torso to cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples. "M’not gonna let anyone else hear you. Just me."

Fuck.

His simple words are enough to convince you, not that you needed much convincing in the first place. He had you wrapped around his finger and him around yours, and there was no way you were going to say no to what you know will come next. A jolt of electricity shoots down your spine and settles hot and heavy in the pit of your stomach. Your resolve breaks, your legs falling open further, letting him get even closer, and Joel lets out a soft, happy noise against your mouth.

"Atta girl" he hums, his voice rough and deep, "So good for me, aren't ya baby?"

"Always" you manage to reply, the word more of a sigh as you arch your back, his thumb teasing your nipple until it's pebbled and hard.

He gives into you easily, tugging your shirt up and over your head. His mouth lands on your chest as soon as it’s exposed, immediately licking and kissing across your collarbones and the swell of your breast. He noses along the valley between them, the coarse hair of his beard tickling your skin and making you giggle. You can feel him grinning against your skin before he nips and sucks at the supple flesh until a red mark rises to the surface. 

You squirm beneath him, his leg still nestled perfectly between yours and pressing against you every time he shifts. The pressure is building in your gut, your clit aching and throbbing. The feeling is almost too much with his hot wet mouth now wrapped around your nipple, his tongue swirling around the stiff peak making it harder and harder for you to keep quiet. 

“Joel,” you hiss, the word half warning and half plea. 

“Hush, baby” he mumbles against your skin. His fingers replace his mouth, pinching and teasing your swollen, spit-slick nipple as he kisses across your chest to lavish your other nipple with the same attention. 

“Gotta be quiet, remember?” he says when he pulls back, releasing your nipple with a wet pop. “Unless you want everyone hearin’ ya” 

You open your mouth to say something in protest, to tell him that he’s making things a lot harder right now, but then he starts moving, sliding down the bed and the words die in your throat. The look he gives you as he settles on his stomach between your thighs is sinful, his eyes dark and mischievous, his lips pulled up into a smirk. 

He hooks his fingers in the waistband of your sweats, slowly pulling them along with your panties down your legs, leaving you completely bare. Your stomach swoops at the sight of his eyes trained to your center and your thighs twitch, wanting to snap shut and hide. But his hands on both of your thighs keep you spread open for him. You swallow thickly, your breath catching in your throat, the anticipation building in the pit of your belly as your slick starts to drip down the cleft of your ass. 

Joel’s mouth falls open slightly, a shaky breath escaping him. “Fuck, baby” he sighs, tongue darting out to lick his cherry red lips, his eyes glazing over. A small, content smile tugs at the corners of your mouth, a swell of pride blossoming in your chest. He looks wrecked, like a starving man eyeing his first meal, and the way he's looking at you so intently, like you're the best thing he's ever seen, the thing that's kept him alive all these years, is making your heart pound almost painfully in your chest. 

“Fucking gorgeous,” he praises, his hand running along the inside of your thigh. “And all mine.” 

Like he can’t wait another second, he’s leaning in and licking a long, wet stripe up your center, dragging his tongue through your folds from your leaking hole to your swollen, needy clit. The feeling of his tongue on you pulls a soft, broken sound from you. You clap your hand over your mouth as your head spins, a rush of pleasure washing over you making the muscles in your thighs and stomach twitch and flex. 

He does it again and again, and every time his tongue flicks over the swollen bud, you let out a soft whine that sounds far too loud in the otherwise quiet room.

He groans against you, his mouth already wet and messy as he laps at your pussy like he's starving for it, like he would die without tasting you. His eyes are locked on yours, the look in them so dark and primal that it makes your walls clench, more slick freely leaking out of you and onto his tongue. He laps it up happily, his fingers digging into your hips, holding you steady as his mouth works your clit.

He lets out a quiet, breathy moan when you slide your hand through his hair once again, your fingers tangling in and pulling on the soft brown strands. His eyes flutter shut, a shuddery exhale falling from his parted lips, and the feeling of his warm breath fanning over your wet, sensitive center has you stifling another high pitched whimper.

You roll your hips up against his face, desperate for more, and he gets the hint, the flat of his tongue swiping up through your folds a few more times before he dips it into your entrance, pushing in and out while his nose nudges at your clit. You're writhing beneath him, tugging at his hair, trying so hard to be quiet but failing miserably, soft, desperate little noises pouring out of your mouth. You know he's loving it too, making no effort to keep your noises at bay, not giving a single fuck about who might hear.

He moans against your cunt, the vibrations making you jolt, your hips rolling up to meet him. You're panting, the hand that isn't buried in his hair gripping the sheets tight enough that your knuckles turn white, and your back arches when his tongue fucks in and out of you faster, rougher.

"Joel, fuck" you gasp, "I- I'm-

He growls, the sound muffled by your pussy, the vibrations and the feeling of his stubble dragging along your inner thighs making your toes curl, the familiar coil in your belly tightening, your thighs trembling.

He doubles down, bringing a hand between your legs to replace his tongue with two thick fingers sinking into you and curling up against that spot inside you that has you seeing stars, his tongue circling your clit while his fingers pump in and out of you, his mouth and hand working in tandem to pull you apart.

"Fuck, I'm close" you whimper, his fingers crooking against that spot inside of you, sending white hot fire coursing through your veins as your slick leaks down his fingers and into his palm like hot honey. 

He hums, sucking your clit between his lips, and your legs clamp around his head, your hand tightening in his hair as your orgasm crashes over you, your back arching off the mattress, a muffled, broken moan spilling out from behind your hand. He fucks you through it, his tongue flattening out against your clit while the tips of his fingers rub against that sweet spot inside of you, sending more sparks of pleasure tingling up and down your spine.

When it's too much, when the sensitivity makes tears prick in the corners of your eyes, you make a feeble attempt to push him away. He pulls back, sitting up on his knees, his chin and cheeks wet with your slick, his pupils blown so wide that the brown is almost completely swallowed up by black. He stares at you, his gaze so heavy and intense that it makes another shiver run down your spine.

"You're not being very quiet" he smirks as he moves off the bed to stand up.

You roll your eyes, still coming down from the aftershocks, your thighs quivering, "Yeah, no shit" you mutter, propping yourself up on your elbows.

He chuckles as he pulls off his sweater and the t-shirt underneath it before he starts unbuckling his belt and working on his jeans. You sit up, shuffling closer to the edge of the bed, reaching out and batting his hands away, taking over and quickly unfastening the button and pulling the zipper down.

He doesn't protest, letting you push his jeans and boxers down his legs until he kicks them all the way off. Your mouth waters at the sight of his thick, hard cock hanging heavy between his legs, flushed a deep red with slippery precum beading at the tip. You reach out, wrapping your hand around the base and taking a moment or two to revel in the familiar weight and warmth of him in your hand.

He shudders, a low moan rumbling in his chest, his eyes slipping shut as his hand moves to cup the back of your head. He watches you intently as you take your time, lazily stroking him, rubbing the pad of your thumb over the leaking tip and tracing the throbbing veins that run along the sides. His breathing grows heavy, his jaw clenching and his stomach muscles twitching as he tries so hard not to buck his hips up into the loose circle of your fist.

"C'mon, sweetheart" he pleads, the words leaving his mouth as a low, breathless groan, "Get me all nice and wet for you."

He doesn't have to ask twice. You lean forward and you dart your tongue out to lap up the bead of precum, humming at the salty, bitter taste of it, swirling the flat of your tongue over the head of his cock, your hand pumping the rest of his shaft. His breath catches in his throat, a stuttered curse falling from his lips when you dip your tongue into the slit, teasing more precum out.

He groans, his grip on the back of your head tightening, urging you to take him into the warm, wet heat of your mouth. You sink down, flattening your tongue and taking him all the way until he hits the back of your throat, the tip of his cock brushing against the roof of your mouth. You breathe through your nose, hollowing your cheeks, swallowing around him, and the deep, guttural groan that he lets out has you squirming, slick leaking out of your cunt and onto the sheets below.

"There ya go" he pants, his head lolling back, "Oh, baby, that's it. S'fuckin' perfect."

You pull off, a string of spit and precum connecting his cock to your bottom lip, and you look up at him through your lashes.

"Need to be quiet" you remind him, "Or else I'll stop"

He lets out a shaky breath and nods, swallowing hard, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. He's not used to keeping quiet, not used to not telling you how good you feel, not used to not begging you to let him cum in that low, raspy tone that never fails to make you weak.

"I'll be good," he whispers, breathless and needy. "Promise."

Your stomach swoops at his words, arousal burning bright in your belly. Unable to stay away for much longer, you lean forward, pressing a soft kiss to the head of his cock. His hips jerk, another drop of precum leaking out. You lick it up, swirling your tongue around the sensitive, swollen tip before sinking down again. You take him into the wet heat of your mouth, hollowing your cheeks and swallowing around him, bobbing your head slowly and steadily.

He bites his lip hard enough to draw blood trying with all his might to keep his noises in as you drool all over his cock. He can't take his eyes off you, watching the way he disappears into the slick heat of your mouth. You look so pretty with your lips wrapped around him, spit dripping down his cock and leaking out the corners of your mouth while your eyes water as you take him as far as you can.

You take him deeper, and you swallow, your throat convulsing around him, and the way his whole body shudders makes you smile, proud of the effect you have on him. He's so big and thick, and you both know you can't fit him all the way down your throat, but seeing you try your best is enough to make his thighs start to shake. 

His cock hits the back of your throat again and again, the tip dipping into the soft, warm, tight space, and Joel's breathing is getting heavier and faster, his jaw clenched and his eyebrows knitted together.

"Shit" he grits out under his breath, "That's it, sweetheart. That's fuckin' it."

The praise goes straight between your legs, a fresh wave of slick leaking out of you and it's too tempting to resist, so you slip your hand between your thighs and rub circles around your clit, moaning softly around his cock.

He hisses, his eyes snapping down, watching your hand disappear between your legs.

"Are you touchin' yourself?" he asks, the words coming out rough and choked, his eyebrows raised.

You nod, sliding a finger into yourself, and you pull off his cock, panting, a thin strand of spit connecting the head to your bottom lip.

"Can't help it" you whine pathetically, your voice already raspy from how far his cock had been down your throat.

Joel groans, his dick twitching, and he's had enough. He takes a step back, and you let go, a little confused and worried that you've done something wrong. But he just takes hold of your arms and yanks you off the bed, his strong hands easily manhandling you, and then he's pushing you, turning you around and bending you over the side of the mattress.

"Oh" you breathe out, bracing yourself on your forearms, arching your back, sticking your ass up in the air.

You don't have to wait long for him to move. His hand is smoothing over your ass, the other one guiding his cock towards your sopping cunt. He teases the tip between your folds, spreading your slick and dragging his head over your swollen clit a few times before lining himself up and sinking in.

You bite down on the inside of your cheek to keep quiet, letting out a stuttering breath, the familiar, delicious burn of his thick cock stretching you out making your eyes roll back into your head. You've made peace with the face that you'll never be used to his size. It'll always be too much, the feeling of him pushing into, forcing your walls to make room for him will always make you clench and shiver.

He's got his hands on your hips, holding you steady as he bottoms out, his hips flush with the curve of your ass with the tip of his cock pressed against your cervix. He holds himself there for a moment, both of you adjusting to the feeling, and you're trying so hard not to moan, to keep your noises muffled by the mattress, and you know Joel's struggling too, his jaw clenched tight and his brow furrowed.

"Good girl" he whispers, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips, "Taking my cock so well, aren't ya?"

You nod, whimpering, your fingers twisting in the sheets.

He pulls back and thrusts back in, setting a steady, slow rhythm, the wet slide of his cock making the most obscene sounds. And it's driving you crazy, the need to let out loud, your chest burning with the effort of keeping your noises in. He keeps his pace slow, not wanting to make more noise with his hips snapping against your ass. It’s nearly tortuous though, the drag of his cock in and out of you so slow that you can feel every ridge as he takes his sweet time. You can only handle it for a few moments before the tingling hints of pain from the stretch subside and the burning need for him to fuck you senseless takes over.

"Joel" you whine, "Faster, please."

He leans over you, his front pressed against your back, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. "You're not gonna stay quiet if I do," he says, his voice deep and gravelly, "Just take what I give you, sweetheart."

You're so worked up, the slow pace makes you even more desperate for him, and you can't help it, you need more, and you reach a hand back and grab his hip, urging him to speed up.

"I-I'll try" you promise, "Please, just- Just fuck me, Joel, please"

He hesitates, but the way you're squirming beneath him is so tempting, and the way his cock is throbbing and dripping inside of you is telling him that he needs more too.

Before you can say anything else, he's pulling back, the thick, heavy weight of him sliding out of you. You whimper at sudden empty feeling but you don't have time to complain before he's flipping you over onto your back and scooting you up the bed before climbing on top of you. You can’t help but notice how big he is, the muscles flexing smoothly in his strong arms that box you in as he hovers above you, nearly encompassing your entire body underneath his. His mouth is on yours before you can even blink, his tongue slipping past your lips and kissing you like his life depends on it.

He settles between your legs, his hips nestled in the cradle of your thighs, his cock dragging along your clit again warm and heavy, and you gasp, the sound swallowed by his mouth. You're squirming again, desperate to feel him stretch you out more and he takes mercy on you, reaching between your bodies and grabbing the base of his cock, guiding the thick head towards your entrance.

"Gotta be quiet, baby" he warns, his eyes boring into yours as he looks down at you. "Those pretty noises are just for me, yeah? Can't have anyone hearin' 'em."

You nod frantically and the next second he's pushing in, the fat head of his cock forcing its way into you and bottoming out in one smooth motion. You let out a gasp that's definitely too loud but Joel is quick to remedy it, his hand coming up to cover your mouth, his fingers splaying across your cheek.

"Shh" he shushes you, his hips rolling, the slow, lazy drag of his cock against your walls making you clench around him. Your eyes roll back, your back arching as his hand stops all the whiny little sounds you can't help but make. He continues to fuck you slow and deep, his cock sliding in and out of your soaking wet cunt, the filthy sounds of skin slapping against skin echoing softly in the room.

You can't take your eyes off him, watching his eyes squeeze shut, the muscles in his arms and shoulders flexing as he fucks you, his brows knitted together and his teeth sunk into his bottom lip. He looks beautiful like this, sweat glistening on his skin, his jaw tight, and his eyes shut tight, his mouth hanging open with his breaths coming out in soft, barely audible pants.

"Mmm" he hums, his hips picking up speed, his cock pushing impossibly deeper. "You feel so fuckin' good, baby. Fuck."

You reflexively clench around him and a shudder runs through his whole body.

"Gettin' real tight" he pants, "Tryna milk the cum right outta me, huh? Tryna make me fill up that pretty pussy?"

You whimper into his palm, your pussy fluttering, a fresh wave of slick coating his cock, and he groans, his hips picking up speed.

"S'what you want?" he asks in a hushed tone, his hand still pressed firmly over your mouth. "You want me to fill you up? Make a mess of that pretty pussy? Breed you until you're fuckin' stuffed, baby girl?"

Your back arches off the bed, the coil in your belly so tight that you think you might pass out. He's rambling, his thrusts losing rhythm, his breathing getting ragged and choppy, his chest heaving and his thighs shaking.

"That's it" he coaxes when you tighten around him even more, "Can feel it, can feel how close you are. Go on, baby, cum on my cock. Wanna feel that tight, wet cunt cum all over my cock, please, baby."

His hips snap forward, his cock pushing deep into you, the tip rubbing against the spongy spot deep inside you that makes the coil in your belly finally snap. Your eyes roll back, a muffled, broken moan falling from your lips as your entire body convulses, your orgasm washing over you and making your toes curl as your walls flutter around his cock buried to the hilt inside of you.

Joel lets out a deep, low groan, his hips stuttering as he fucks you through your orgasm. His hand slips away from your mouth so he can grip your hips with both hands, his fingers digging into the soft flesh, holding you in place so he can chase after his own release. His chest is tight as he holds in his grunts and groans, but it’s barely any use with the lewd noises that fill the room as your pussy gushes around him, your slick leaking past the tight seal of your walls around him and dripping down to his balls. 

"Oh, shit, baby. Christ,” he chokes out, his stomach muscles clenching as his hips slam into yours, his cock pushing impossibly deeper and harder. “Keep makin’ a mess, keep lettin’ me feel it. That’s it. Fuckin’ hell.” 

You can feel his cock starting to throb inside of you and you know he’s close. And you can’t stop the words from leaving your mouth, the need to let him know just how good he’s making you feel is destroying any bit of common sense. 

“Want you to fill me up,” you whine. “Please, Joel, wanna feel it.” 

That’s all it takes. His jaw clenches, his nose scrunching as his eyes squeeze shut. His cock twitches and pulses as he buries himself as deep as he can get before spilling into, filling you with thick, hot ropes of his cum. His hips jerking and stuttering d you clench around him, squeezing and milking him for everything he has while he buries his face in the crook of your neck, muffling his broken, ragged moans against your skin.

"So good,” he whimpers. “Fuckin’ perfect.” 

The praise goes straight between your legs and you wrap your arm around his shoulders, trying to pull him closer. He lifts his head, his palm resting on your cheek as he lifts his head and presses his lips against yours, kissing you languidly. His hips rock back and forth lazily, pushing his cum in as deep as he can get it. You melt into the bed underneath him, the only things keeping you tethered to the earth being your fingers combing through his hair and your legs tightening around his waist.

When he finally pulls away, he rests his forehead against yours, and you're both left panting, trying to catch your breath. You listen to the muffled sounds of people downstairs, the movie playing and their drunken voices filtering in through the door, and Joel must be thinking the same thing because he chuckles.

"Well" he says, his thumb rubbing back and forth over your cheekbone, "I don't think anyone heard us."

"You better hope they didn't" you retort, a grin on your face. Joel rolls his eyes. "That's a weird way to say thank you" he teases. You start to laugh, but the sound dies in your throat, morphing to a whimper instead when he starts pulling out his softening cock.

"Joel" you whine, but he doesn't stop. "Joel, please. It's-"

He's not listening, he's too focused on the way his cock looks when he pulls out. The tip slips out of you, and the rest follows, and his eyes widen as he watches a string of thick, sticky cum stretch from the tip of his cock to your cunt. It breaks, falling to your thigh, and he licks his lips. He can't tear his eyes away, watching the way your cunt flutters, and his cum starts to drip out, running down your slit, the obscene sight making Joel's spent cock twitch. 

"Shit" he mutters under his breath, "Ain't that a pretty picture."

He reaches down, dragging a finger through the mess of cum and slick and gathering it on his finger before pushing it back into your cunt. You clench around the digit before he sighs and pulls it back out.

"Gonna be leaking all day tomorrow" he murmurs, almost to himself.

You whimper, the thought of having him dripping out of you all day like that has renewed arousal already seeping into your veins. 

“It’s okay” he assures you, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll take care ya. Clean you up and put my cock back in right where it belongs, how’s that sound, hm?” 

You sigh, nodding, a wave of fatigue washing over you. “Sounds perfect,” you agree. 

You watch as he climbs off of you and starts to move, but a sudden, sharp sound of knuckles knocking on the other side of the bedroom door makes you both freeze. 

“You two are fucking disgusting!” the voice of your cousin calls out, accompanied by the sound of a couple other people giggling and laughing. “Put some goddamn clothes on and get down here!” 

You and Joel exchange glances, his eyes wide and apologetic, his cheeks burning bright red as you give him a look that says I told you so. 

“Alright, alright, we’re coming” he yells back. 

“We’re coming! Oh, yeah we’re coming!” another voice teases, the sound of everyone bursting out laughing quickly follows. 

“We’re never doing that again” Joel mutters and you can’t help but chuckle. 

“Yeah right. Keep telling yourself that”

Thank you for reading!!! Plsss let me know if you enjoyed hehehe

#joel miller smut #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller one shot #joel miller fic #the last of us #tlou fic #joel miller #pedro pascal characters

[imtryingbuck]

Thirty

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Summary: Bucky comes from a well respected family, he falls in love with a girl who prefers the simple things in life. Follow their journey through the years.

Word count: 5,109

Warnings: angst, heavy use of pet names. Engagement. Wedding. Death (Cancer) someone makes an appearance. Swearing. Fluff.

A/N: No description of reader other than she has curly hair.

Masterlist   Series Masterlist

~Two and a half years ago~

The barbeque get-together that Howard and Maria was throwing was in full swing, Y/n and Bucky along with Steve and Sam was sitting at a wooden bench laughing at something that Tony had shouted to Morgan – his daughter.

Y/n sat there with Bucky’s arm around her shoulders listening to whatever he was talking about with the boys, every now and again he would press a kiss to her temple. Her eyes drifted over to where her dad and George was manning the grill, chuckling softly as George pulls Howard closer and all but force him to dance along with the music that was playing through the speakers. Every time her eyes caught her mommas and Winnie’s both women smiled brightly and turned to each other to whispering to each other.

“Son, come here” George shouted.

“Be back in a second pretty girl” Bucky told her, getting up and walking over to his dad and Howard. Maria and Winnie soon following, as well as Sam and Steve. Then Tony and Pepper – his wife. Then Rebecca – Bucky’s sister – joined them.

Furrowing her eyebrows in confusion she went to get up but Morgan came bouncing over to her “Auntie Y/n do you like my wings?”

“I do sweetie”

“Do you want some?”

“I do”

“I can ask uncle Bucky to get you some”

Chuckling at the four year old she nodded “I would appreciate it if you did”

“Then we can match all the time and be fairies”

“That would be amazing-“

“Morg come here darling” Pepper called for her daughter.

Morgan turned to face her mom and confused Y/n even more by asking “Did I do good mommy?”

“You did sweetheart” Pepper replied, smiling at Y/n.

Everyone moved closer together as Bucky moved towards Y/n, smiling softly he took her hand in his.

“Y/n I love you more than anything in this world. You are my light, my happiness, my sweet Bunny. I am forever grateful for meeting you that day in the woods, because if I didn’t I would have never known the true meaning of love. Bunny will you do me the honours of being my wife?” Getting down on one knee he holds out a box, inside a gorgeous diamond ring.

“Yes” she whispered, tears threatening to spill over. “Yes I’ll marry you Ducky!”

Jumping up her picks her up and spins her around, placing kisses all over her face and finally her lips.

Everyone erupted in cheers. Congratulating the couple on their engagement. The moms had the audacity to act as if they hadn’t seen the ring before, the dads wiped their tears before anyone could see them.

“I love you Bunny”

“I love you Ducky”

It had been two and a half years since they were engaged, there was a few setbacks that made them not rushing into marrying.

First setback was their new home, both sets of parents paid for it as an early wedding gift, it was a beautiful house she had to admit but for Y/n it was way too big just for the two of them. A large gorgeous kitchen, two living rooms, two offices – one going to be turned into a library. Six bedrooms. Yes six. Three and a half bathrooms.

Gorgeous but way too big.

Not wanting to upset anyone or seem ungrateful she placed a huge smile on her face as she hugged her parents and surrogate parents turned in-laws. Moving in and redecorating took longer than planned.

The second setback was Bucky taking over his dads company. There was a lot of business he needed to take care of and Y/n understood, so the wedding got pushed back once again.

The third being Y/n’s biological father showing up.

She was walking down the street with Bucky, Steve and Sam. The plan was to buy some more furniture for the house, and Steve and Sam just had to come too.

The guys went into one store as Y/n went to get a drink from across the street. Everything was fine until-

“Y/n? Y/n” She couldn’t understand why that voice sounded so familiar to her ears until she turned around.

“Hi baby…wait don’t you recognise me? Y/n it’s me, your dad.”

No. No this was not happening. Nope this was a very bad nightmare, come on Y/n wake up.

“Surprised to see me aren’t you? I got out on good behaviour”

Nope, nope this was just life taking the mickey out of me. Wakey wakey Y/n!

“Why are you being weird for? Come and give your old man a cuddle”

The thought of touching you makes my skin crawl. Where the hell is Ducky when I need him? No no no no stay away from me!

“Look how you’ve grown baby girl”

Why aren’t you moving Y/n? What is wrong with you? Ducky? Ducky where the hell are you?

“Bunny? Can you get away from my fiancée, like now!”

Ducky you’re here! Thank God! Please get him away from me!

“Fiancée? Wow my little girl is all grown up indeed, she’s getting married man!”

“Wha-Bun do you know this man?”

“Did they change her name when she was adopted?”

“Who are you?”

“I’m her dad”

Bucky stood straighter at the man’s words. Placing his body in front of hers as a shield he looked back at the store hoping Steve or Sam would see and come out, he needed to get his Bunny way from the monster solely responsible for the pain and suffering she went through.

“Get away from her” Bucky voice dropped low.

“She’s my daughter”

“No she isn’t, don’t ever come near her ever again.”

“Why what are you going to do? Bet I can still control the little cunt. Y/n get here!”

It was a good job that Bucky had been standing in front of her as her foot moved on its own accord.

“Don’t. Don’t call her that”

Sam looked outside pulling on Steve’s arm when he noticed the way Bucky was standing in front of Y/n, and the way she was trying to make herself look smaller behind her fiancés back.

Jogging across the road, Steve slapped his hand on a cars bonnet when the driver nearly ran him and Sam over. “Buck what’s going on?”

“Sam take Bunny down the street. Now”

“Okay-okay. Sunshine come with me sweet girl” coaxing her hands away from Bucky’s jacket as she gripped on for dear life. “Come on Sunny, I got you”

Sam wrapped his strong arms around her shielding her from the prying eyes of strangers he led her down the street, already knowing where to take her. He heard Bucky tell Steve to ring Howard. Sucking in a breath and pulling his best friend, his Sunshine closer to him when he heard Bucky saying who the man was.

Fifty-four minutes later – Sam timed it – the bell ringing chimming over the door signalled someone had entered. He sat them both in the far corner, he watched as she sat on the floor in the corner as she stroked the large black and white cat in her arms.

“Bun?”

“Over here Buck” Sam answered. That’s when he saw Bucky, Steve, Howard, George and Tony. Each of them having blood on their clothes.

“Bunny, baby-it’s me Ducky” Bucky had to tell her when she flinched when he touched her knees.

“D-Ducky?” hearing her sound so small broke their hearts, wanting to go back and beat the prick up even more.

“It’s me baby, who’ve you got today?” he asked referring to the cat in her arms. It wasn’t uncommon for Y/n to come to the cat café on Main Street, sometimes when things got too much for her she would go there spending hours just playing with the cats, sometimes she even helped out the staff if they were busy.

“Mr Nibbles” great name for a cat that nibbled on anything and everything. Who was currently nibbling on her jumper.

“How are you feeling Bun?”

“Stupid”

“Why do you feel stupid baby?”

“I always thought that if I ever saw him again I would call him all the names under the sun, you know? Or at least hurt him but no I just stood there like a frigging idiot not knowing what to frigging say because I’m frigging stupid!”

“Bun you’re not stupid so don’t ever call yourself that ever again. You wasn’t expecting him to appear baby, it’s not your fault-“

“I froze Bucky! I frigging froze an-an-and I didn’t know what to do. I-I-I-“

“Y/n breath-“

Shaking her head, she couldn’t, she needed him to know why she froze. She needed to explain. She couldn’t let him think she was weak. “I recognised his voice straight away, of course I did it haunts my nightmares. I turned around Bucky an-and I wanted to tell him how much I frigging hate him, how much I wished it was him that died and not my mama. I wanted him to know that no matter h-how much he thought he won he didn’t because he didn’t, did he Bucky? No-no-no-no he didn’t. He didn’t. He didn’t”

Not being able to stomach seeing his daughter struggle and stumble over words anymore Howard pushed Bucky out of the way, knocking Mr Nibbles off his daughters lap and pulled her into his arms.

“You’re right angel he didn’t win, he never will baby and I promise you that right now” he spoke with determination to make her understand that she had not only won by living a life surrounded by so many people who loved and adored her. Howard knew that everyone Y/n had around her all thanked whoever had brought her to them, because he did. Every night. Y/n was the light that brightened their lives. The sweetest, kindest, warmest souls out there and they were lucky to call her daughter, sister, fiancée, friend – hell even acquaintance. No matter what she saw the good in people, always happy to help family, friends and strangers.

But not only did she win she also survived. She survived the abuse she suffered, the orphanage, the bullying, the attack done by Brock. She proved the doctors wrong when they told Winnie and George that she wasn’t going to survive the attack from that bastard, by opening her eyes. She survived when she stood in the witness box of the court room and she told a room full of strangers what not only her but her mama had gone through.

Howard Stark was proud to call her his daughter.

Bucky had the wedding date pushed back once again, on the account of Y/n had been too scared to leave their home.

Months passed and Bucky was notified that Y/n’s biological father had been found in a ditch, dead. Nobody knew what or who did it, not like it mattered.

The fourth and final setback was Maria’s cancer diagnosis.

One night when Bucky and Y/n were asleep in bed the phone ringing woke both of them up, Bucky answered groggily sitting up straight away when he heard Tony’s voice on the other side sounding like he had been crying.

“Buck?”

“Baby w-we need to go, come on get dressed”

“What is it? What’s gone off?”

“Bun…it’s your mom. Baby she’s in hospital-” Though she could see his lips moving she just couldn’t hear the words he was speaking.

Getting out of the bed and rushing to her side of the wardrobe she put on whatever clothes she grabbed first. Practically flying down the stairs she rushed out of the house. Bucky following behind closely, trying to get her to slow down but it was no use.

Arriving at the hospital she instantly found Tony, running straight up to him she asked what had happened.

“Dad found her in the kitchen coughing up blood. Y/n/n I-I don’t know much more, Albert – Howard’s brother - rang me telling me to get here as soon as I could.”

“B-but she’s okay right? She will be won’t she Tone? Tony?”

“I-I don’t know Y/n, I don’t know”

By the time Bucky had gotten to them he saw brother and sister holding on to each other crying.

After multiple blood tests the doctor sat the family down the next day as Bucky waited in the waiting room with George and Winnie. “I’m sorry to have to tell you this but the results came back and it is stage four cancer. Lung cancer can be treated with surgery however the mass is too big for us to go down that route, we can also slow it down with the help of chemotherapy but sadly it will not cure it-“

“H-how long do I have left?” Maria interrupted, her hand gripping Howards.

“I can’t say for certain, it varies with everyone-“

“Can you give me a rough estimate? I’m sorry that I keep interrupting you”

“Don’t apologies, I understand. With treatment between seven to sixteen months, maybe even longer. Without treatment a few weeks to a few months” the doctor said regretfully.

“Months. Okay. Okay. That’s okay. When do I start treatment?”

“We can start the process next week”

“Okay, I’ll do it. My daughter is getting married soon a-and I want to see her walk down the aisle, you see” Maria smiled as if she hadn’t just found out that she’s dying.

The doctor smiled too “I’ll make sure that you see that happen”

Truthfully Howard, Tony and Y/n didn’t hear the rest of the conversation – their ears going fuzzy when the doctor said stage four cancer. Only snapping out of it when the door closed behind the doctor, leaving the family to come to terms with the results.

Telling Bucky and his parents, Winnie burst out crying at hearing her oldest friend was going to die. George trying to comfort his wife and best friend. Bucky took Y/n’s hand and took her outside for fresh air.

“It’s not fair Ducky, it’s not fair” she cried “It must be a mistake, it has to be. Yes they made a mistake!”

Even though he knew it was unlikely, he agreed with her. “It’s not fair baby, I know. Maybe they got it wron-“

“There’s no maybe Bucky. They got it wrong! My momma isn’t dying, she isn’t!”

“I know Bunny I know” he didn’t know what to say, so he just stood there and held his fiancée tight in his arms as she soaked his shirt through with her tears.

When Maria heard that Y/n wanted to push the date back just until things had settled down, she was against it at first she tried to argue with her daughter but ultimately got cut off with a coughing fit.

Now six months after her momma’s diagnosis Y/n was standing in the hotel room in front of the ceiling to floor mirror in her wedding dress. Wanda was behind her fixing the back of the dress and her hair at the same time. Nat was taking photos of everyone. Maria sat in the wheelchair she had been using for the past few months, Winnie sat next to her holding her friends hand. Both mothers crying at the image of Y/n in her wedding dress and at the fact that their babies were marrying each other, finally.

On the other side of the city Bucky was doing the same. Standing in front of ceiling to floor mirror in a hotel, Steve helping him fix his tie. Sam taking photos of them all. George and Howard sitting on the bed next to each other drinking whiskey. Both fathers feeling an overwhelming sense of pride at seeing Bucky standing there in his suit, knowing that in just in two hours that he will be marrying the love of his life.

Bride and groom to be both excited and nervous at the knowledge that they’ll be joined as one in two hours.

It was time to leave for the church when Nat stopped Y/n. “Bucky told me to give you this when we was on our way” handing over an envelope Nat gave her best friend a kiss on her cheek before helping Wanda with helping Maria into the car.

Finally seated in the car she opens the envelope containing a photo. At first she was confused as it was just a topless photo of Bucky until she turned the photo around.

She burst out laughing.

‘This is a reminder of what I looked like before we got married.’

“What is it?” Maria asked chuckling.

Showing her momma the photo and telling her to turn it over Maria too started to laugh, which made everyone else intrigued, one by one everyone started to laugh.

Bucky sure knew how to make her nerves settle even when they were apart.

When Steve saw Y/n in her dress he knew Bucky was going to cry. It was going to be the easiest fifty bucks he was going to win. Yes he and Sam made a bet on whether Bucky would cry or not. The bridemaids and groomsmen were in places, Nat and Steve, Wanda and Sam, Rebecca and Tony. Pepper was to help Morgan as she was the flower girl. Winnie had pushed Maria down already and were both waiting for the music to play along with everyone else.

The music had begun and everything was going perfect just like they had practiced but as Y/n put one foot out she just couldn’t move.

“Angel…”

“Dad-dad-I-something’s wrong”

“Nothing’s wrong sweetie, come on James is waiting for you angel”

“No-no it feels wrong. I can’t-“

Bucky looked at Steve, then his dad they both saw the pure fear in his blue eyes. George nodded to his son and smiled reassuringly before making his way out to see what was going on.

“Hey what’s wrong?” he asked seeing father and daughter standing there, Howard shook his head.

“I want you to walk me down the aisle as well George. Please.”

Oh how his heart leapt in his chest.

“Ar-are you sure darling?”

“Yes, it’s only right. That’s if that’s okay with both of you?”

“Of course” Howard and George spoke at the same time.

The music started again and everyone’s attention turned to the double doors as the three stepped over the threshold. Friends and family smiling as Howard, Y/n and George walked by, some of them muttering about how beautiful she looked.

Bucky stood there with tears streaming down his face at seeing his Bunny. Nat and Wanda rolled their eyes when they saw Steve smiling and Sam shaking his head, knowing they had put a bet on their friends reaction.

Reaching him Y/n smiled softly at Bucky, giving both Howard and George a kiss on their cheeks she took Bucky’s waiting hand.

“I thought you ran away” Bucky whispered.

“No never, just wanted your dad to give me away as well”

As the pastor greeted everyone and began the ceremony Bucky couldn’t pull his eyes away from Y/n, nor could she with him.

“James you may read your vows”

“My beautiful Bunny, I love you more today than I did yesterday and I’ll love you more tomorrow than I did today. For as long as I am alive I promise to not only to keep loving you in the purest form but I promise that I will never let you ever second guess my love, loyalty and devotion for you. You are my soul mate, my better half, my Bunny. I promise in front of everyone here to cherish you, to honour and sustain you, in sickness and in health, in poverty and in wealth, and to be true to you in all things until death alone shall tear us apart”

Reaching out to wipe the tears that had fallen on her cheeks, the pastor waited for Bucky to move backwards before telling Y/n that it was her turn to read her vows.

“My beautiful Ducky-“ she started knowing he always blushed when she called him beautiful or pretty. “I have loved you since I knew the real meaning of it. When I look at you all I see is my future, our future. Like I told you on our first date its always been you. You’ve always been my beacon, my happiness. You have saved me so many times I don’t think you realise how many. I will always love you more and more as our days go by and that’s my promise to you. I promise in front of everyone here to cherish you, to honour and sustain you, in sickness and in health, in poverty and in wealth, and to be true to you in all things until death alone shall tear us apart”

It was now her turn to wipe the tears that fell from his bright blue eyes.

“Rings please” Nat and Steve stepped forward handing the rings over “James repeat after me- With this ring I, James, take you, Y/n, to be no other than yourself. Loving what I know of you, and trusting what I do not yet know, I will respect your integrity and have faith in your abiding love for me, through all our years, and in all that life may bring us.”

Repeating the words, making sure his voice was strong so she knew he was as serious as he has ever been, he slips the ring on to her finger.

“Y/n repeat after me- With this ring I, Y/n, take you, James, to be no other than yourself. Loving what I know of you, and trusting what I do not yet know, I will respect your integrity and have faith in your abiding love for me, through all our years, and in all that life may bring us.”

She too repeats the words, she puts the ring on his finger.

“Y/n and James, you have come here today before us and before God and have expressed your desire to become husband and wife. You have shown your love and affection by joining hands, and have made promises of faith and devotion, each to the other, and the receiving of the rings. Therefore, it is my privilege as a minister and by the authority given to me by the State of New York, I now pronounce that you are husband and wife. James, you may kiss your wife”

The whole church erupted in cheers as Bucky took Y/n’s face in both hands and kissed her passionately.

“Ladies and gentlemen, it is my privilege to introduce to you for the first time Mr and Mrs Barnes”

Their first dance as man and wife was to Unchained Melody, as they danced on the dance floor Y/n noticed the way her dad was looking at her mom, and how George looked at Winnie. The same way Bucky looked at her. Full of love. Nothing more, nothing less.

Y/n caught her momma’s eyes and nodded.

Winnie stood and helped Maria stand. Howard shooting straight up as her legs were lightly wobbly. Before he could ask what was going on Y/n spoke “Instead of doing the traditional father and daughter dance, I would like my father and mother to dance alongside me and Ducky, the same for Winnie and George”

As the music continued both sets of parents danced on either side of their children. Bucky couldn’t stop looking at his wife, his heart soaring at being able to call her that now, his trousers tenting too. Don’t judge him.

As the night draw close, Bucky and Y/n thanked everyone for coming and took their leave back to the hotel that Bucky had gotten dressed, celebrating on their own. As husband and wife.

The next morning they were off on their honeymoon. Greece.

Six weeks after being married and four weeks after coming back from their honeymoon Y/n sat on the toilet checking her watch every few minutes, the white pregnancy test seemed to have grown eyes as it was staring back at her. Bucky sat on the side of the bath, his knee bouncing, checking his own watch.

“Baby it’s time”

“You check I’m too scared”

A noise between a laugh and a sob made it way out of Bucky’s mouth as the positive sign was there.

“What? What does it say?”

“Positive. Bunny your pregnant!”

Standing up and taking the test from his hands not really believing him, Bucky got down on his knees his hands going straight to her stomach, lifting her shirt up he kissed the flat surface.

“Ducky…we-we’re going to be parents”

“We are my love”

The bathroom filled with laughter mixed with cries.

And then the phone rang.

Arriving at her parents’ home as fast as they could, Pepper greeted them. “In their bedroom” is all she said.

Running up the stairs Bucky tried to get her to slow down without blurting out the reason but it was no use. She needed to see her momma.

“Momma-I’m-I’m here”

“Oh my sweet girl” Maria croaked out, looking weak and so small in the double size bed. Her hair long gone, skin wrapping it’s self tightly around her skeleton. Though she didn’t look like herself but a shell of what she once was, Y/n thought her momma was still as beautiful as she was the day they had first met. “I’m so pr-proud of you, y-you know that don’t you?”

“I know m-momma”

“Oh b-baby plea-please don’t cry, I’m always go-going to be with you. Always.” Taking her daughters hand in her frail one Maria knew it wasn’t long until she left her husband and children behind to head up to the pearly white gates in the sky.

With her family around her, she was happy. Her eyes scanned the room, her husband on her right holding her hand, her only son who she was so unbelievably proud of everything he achieved in his life sitting on the chair close to his father, Pepper who she was proud to call her daughter-in-law standing behind Tony. George standing against the wall, the man gave her the life she had from the moment he introduced her to Howard. Winnie-her dearest and longest friend tucked in George’s side. Bucky who she help deliver when he decided that he had been in the womb for long enough, the one she was proud to call her son-in-law even in the short period that he had been married to her daughter, standing by his parents.

And her pride and joy, Y/n. Though she wasn’t biologically hers yet she never treated her any different to Tony, no never. Maria’s love for her daughter was pure and real, she always wanted a daughter and she knew she could leave this world happily knowing she had the sweetest, kindest people to call her daughter.

“Momma, I ne-need to tell you something”

“Wha-what is it sweetie?” Y/n leaned in so she could whisper to her the news. That she was going to be a grandma again.

“Oh swe-sweetie th-that is amazing” gesturing for Y/n to come closer so she could whisper in her ears. “Make sure they know that I love them e-even t-though I wo-won’t meet them”

“I w-w-will momma. Promise”

Thirty minutes later hand in hand with her husband and daughter, surrounded by her loved ones Maria closed her eyes and took her last breath with the only regret being that she wasn’t strong enough to meet her unborn grandbaby.

Two weeks later it was time to say goodbye properly by burying Maria, Howard couldn’t find it in himself to stand long enough to do the eulogy. Tony couldn’t find the words to do it so Y/n told them that if it was okay with them she would.

Now standing there in a church packed full of family, friends and strangers she started to regret saying she would do it. But she couldn’t fail her momma, not today.

“As many as you know I’m- I was adopted when I turned eight by my parents. I was brought into their home, their lives, I was accepted and loved by them. I never once felt out of place growing up or felt alone, I never felt like I was different because they always made sure I knew I was truly loved. My momma was always there for me when I needed her, she was the best person to go to for help and advice. She was the best mom ever and I was truly blessed to have her as mine. There’s no doubt in my mind that my momma will be with my mama and be talking her ear off” she stops as everyone chuckles. “Maria Stark was the one of the best women I have ever met, she didn’t care about your past, whether you was rich or poor, as long as you was kind-a good person she was happy to talk to you. She helped anyone who needed to be helped. She saw good in those damaged and I’m the perfect example of that.”

“My momma wouldn’t have wanted people to cry at her funeral so please don’t, dry your tears and smile. Smile at the memories of her, smile at remembering how she was, smile when your think of the name Maria Stark and all the good that comes with the name. Maria Stark was an incredible, strong, beautiful woman, please don’t ever forget her. On behalf of my father and brother I would like to thank each and every one of you for coming here today to celebrate the life of a wife, mother and friend, thank you”

Y/n steps down from the podium, her hands shook as she moved towards Bucky who stood up and took her hand in his. “I’m so proud of you baby” he whispered into her ear.

As her momma was placed into her final resting place and the flowers started to overflow Y/n stood back and let everyone say their final goodbyes first. As everyone moved away and started to go back to their cars all that was left was Howard, Tony, Bucky’s parents, Bucky and Y/n.

Y/n looked to her right, her breath hitching caused Bucky too look over at her. Following with his eyes at what she was staring at he released a stuttering breath.

Howard caught onto what Y/n had saw, putting his rose on top on the pile of flowers and saying his goodbyes to his wife, his only love, he moved over to his daughter. Kissing her forehead, he squeezed his eyes shut before whispering.

“Your momma wanted to be buried next to the woman who gave her, her daughter”

<Previous   Next>

A/N: I wrote Maria’s death whilst listening to For Whom The Bell Tolls by Bee Gees…and I had to stop three times because I was ugly crying.

Tags: @cjand10 @unaxv @mcira @bisexualnikkisixx @kneelforloki @kandis-mom @sagebarness @sandyruston @scott-loki-barnes @nikkivillar @saltedcoffeescotch @scentedharmonymiracle @examinarei @sarcastickiddo @sadboiabby @unholyhuntress @8crazy-freak8 @ijustneedpopcorn @moonbeampillgoth @imcinnamoons @elmo-1066 @violetwinterwidow01 @suz7days @adoredire @ozwriterchick @randomrosie01 @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @emerald-writes @justafangir1 @sibsteria @spencerreidisagorgman @sapphirebarnes @bruher @hawkinsavclub1983 @onlyonetifosi @parisadams @unabashedstarlightcrown @nash-dara @allofffmypeaches @loki-laufeyson68 @behindmygreyeyes @missvelvetsstuff @pigeonmama @lizslibrary @gloriouspurpose01 @gaya-is-weird-af

#marvel #tw: cancer #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes #bucky barns x y/n #Through The Years #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes series #James Barnes #Bucky Barnes angst #bucky series #bucky barnes x y/n #Bucky Barnes fluff #James Barnes angst #james barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes friends to lovers

[sailor-aviator]

Meet Me at the Sea: Chapter Eight

Meet Me at the Sea: Chapter Eight

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Summary: Your best friend, Bob Floyd, had insisted you join him for the summer at his family's home along the Carolina coasts. You had been hesitant at first, but ultimately agreed to his request. Now, here you were in a new town with strange locals who spoke in hushed whispers and cryptic retellings about glistening scales, glowing eyes, and haunting songs that echoed from the sea. You didn't believe them at first, but when you wake up on the beach one morning after having fallen overboard the night before, you can't help but think that maybe you hadn't imagine the strong arms and deep, green eyes of the man that had saved you.

Trigger warnings: Language, Fluff, A smidgen of angst, Truths revealed, Kind of smut (heavy petting and making out), Magic, Supernatural elements.

Word Count: 4.1k

A/N: It's been a hot minute since we've heard from Skipper and Jake! I hope you all enjoy this chapter because it was actually a real struggle to finish for some reason. Also, if you DO NOT fill out the form below (Tag List) then you will not be tagged! I will be referring to that Google form from now on! As always, reblogs, comments and likes are greatly appreciated! Asks/requests are always open! 18+ ONLY!! You can find me on AO3 under sailor_aviator where I also post my updates!

Series Masterlist || Moodboards || Playlist || Jake "Hangman" Seresin Tag List

You had always loved mermaids. You had always wondered what it must be like to live as half human and half fish, swimming beneath the blue waves of the sea and singing beautiful songs for everyone to hear. You wondered what it would be like to coast your fingers across the rocks and corals, interacting with the creatures below. Were there cities like Atlantica down there that only the merpeople knew about? Or did they migrate like whales?

“You know mermaids aren’t real, honey, right?” Your mother had asked you one day, brow furrowed in concern. You had let out a sigh that only a thirteen-year-old beginning their journey into the reality of life could give.

“Yeah, Mom,” you had frowned, looking out the window and onto the waters of the lake below. “I know.”

“Have you thought about maybe redecorating your room?” She continued, picking up your porcelain mermaid and eyeing it with vague distaste. You glanced over at her, turning to face her slightly.

“I like my things,” you grumbled, pressing your lips into a thin line. “They’re my treasures. And what’s wrong with liking mermaids and the ocean?”

“Nothing, sweetie,” she had sighed, setting it down. “Maybe it’s just time for you to start thinking about more serious things, is all.”

She gave you one last smile before walking out of the room, leaving you to ponder over her words.

Weeks later, her words still floated in your head, and you had relayed the conversation to your grandmother, your mother’s mother, one day as you sat in her living room. She had scowled, shaking her head and fixing you with a fierce look.

“Now you listen to me, young lady,” she groused. “Your mother means well, but she doesn’t know what she’s talking about. There’s magic in this world, believe you me, and it’s a rare person who continues to believe and see it. You just keep doing what you’re doing, and one day you’ll see the truth.”

And one day had finally come.

The waves crashed against the shore with a deafening sound, the wind whipping your hair about your face where it rested atop your knees, and the rock beneath you was vaguely damp, causing goosebumps to run up and down your skin. You had been out there for hours, needing time to come to reconcile what you thought you knew with what you now knew.

The scene on the beach earlier that morning replayed in your mind. The song, falling into the water, Mandy. It was a wonder you hadn’t run for the hills.

You had stood on the beach, soaked to the bone as the rest of the group stared at you like some kind of wild animal, like you might lash out at them at the most sudden of movements.

“Skip,” Bradley had started slowly, taking a small step towards where you stood, feet planted as firmly as they could be in the shifting sand. Your shoulders were drawn back, attempting to make yourself seem more confident than you actually were. In truth, you were still terrified, the adrenaline from your near death experience still running through your veins as your eyes darted the small group gathered around. The sun had barely risen above the horizon, and it was an oddly cold, summer morning, and you fought the shiver that threatened to run up your spine. “Honey, it’s not that we don’t think you’re ready to know…”

He trailed off as you narrowed your eyes at him, anger starting to course through you. Bob cleared his throat, drawing your attention to him.

“It’s just that you’ve been through a lot in the past hour,” he explained with a grimace. “We don’t want to overwhelm you.”

“Yeah!” Chirped Mickey. “Besides, you’re still wet, and we wouldn’t want you to get sick or anything.”

“Mickey is right,” Nat smiled gently, “you should get changed out of these clothes.”

She moved to grab your arm, but you shifted away, fixing her with a glare before your eyes once again shifted towards the other members.

“Stop trying to change the subject,” you hissed, your hands tightening into fists at your sides. “Stop treating me like I’m some child.”

Your eyes connected with familiar green ones, and your anger instantly dissipated into a sense of pleading. Jake stared back at you, face unreadable as he took you in. After a moment, he walked towards you, and you didn’t even think about stopping him as he stopped in front of you. He raised a hand, running his thumb lightly over the apple of your cheek, and you felt yourself relax into his touch.

“They’re right,” he said softly. You immediately stiffened, opening your mouth to say something, but he cut you off.

“I promise you, that we will tell you what you want to know. But for now,” he pauses, running his eyes up and down your form, grimacing at the sight of you. “For now, you need to go change into some dry clothes. We can talk more after, okay?”

You stared up at him for a moment, studying him. His eyes bore into yours, not a hint of deceit resting in them. Slowly, you nodded, and he let out a relieved sigh, squeezing your shoulders slightly.

“There’s my good girl,” he smiled, running his hands down your arms before releasing you. You preened at his words, feeling your cheeks warm as you glanced away.

“Okay,” Nat sighed, a relieved smile on her own face. “Now that that’s decided, let’s all head home to change and then we can regroup later.”

Bob had escorted you back home, leaving before you had finished your shower. So, you had walked, and you found yourself where you sat now, on the rocks just past Jake and Bradley’s house on the beach, the sky a dismal grey as the seagulls cried. No one was answering your texts, and while it annoyed you to no end to know that they were probably trying to come up with a way to get out of telling you, you remained secure in the fact that Jake had promised you they would tell you the truth. You let out a long sigh, trying to ease some of the tension out of your shoulders.

“Wasn’t expecting to find you right here.”

You jumped, whirling around to see the familiar green of Jake’s eyes as he gave you an apologetic smile.

“Sorry,” he murmured sheepishly, moving to sit next to you. His shoulder brushed yours in the process, and you inhaled a gasp, hoping he hadn’t heard you.

“It’s okay,” you assured him. “I was just lost in my thoughts, I guess.”

“Care to share?”

“As if you don’t already know what they were about,” you scoffed, a smile tugging on the corner of your lips. He chuckled, nodding slowly.

“You’re right.”

“What are you doing out here, Jake?” You asked. He let out a breath, rolling his shoulders back before answering.

“The others are still debating on what we should tell you, or what you can handle knowing right now. I snuck out to come and find you.”

The two of you sat in silence for a moment, listening to the different sounds around you. You chewed on your bottom lip, contemplating whether or not to break the calm between the two of you.

“I wasn’t dreaming,” you breathed, peering over at him. “Was I?”

Jake let out a sigh, leaning back against his arms as he continued to stare out into the ocean.

“You’ve heard the stories the older folks tell, right?” He asked finally, meeting your gaze. You nodded slowly, waiting for him to continue.

“Well,” he started, looking back out at the water. “They’re all true.”

A beat passed.

“All of them?” You questioned, looking down and fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. You thought back to all of the things Mrs. Cambroni had told you. “Even the frenzy?”

Jake’s eyes grew wide, and his cheeks turned a brilliant red. He cleared his throat, looking away as he muttered, “Yes, even the frenzy.”

“What’s it like?”

“What?” He blinked, eyes still wide but holding confusion instead of shock.

“What’s the frenzy like,” you pressed, leaning in closer to him. He stared at you for another second before answering.

“It feels like a constant itch underneath my skin. A heat that I can’t dampen no matter what I do. It drives me crazier the older I get.”

“Is it dangerous?” You whisper.

“It can be,” he admitted slowly. “If we don’t take a mate before a certain time, then the magic becomes stronger because there’s nothing to siphon it in to. Mates help with controlling the magic, and our magic grows the older we get. If we don’t take a mate, then the magic will drive us crazy.”

“When does that happen?”

“There’s no real set number of frenzies you go through before it happens. For some, they can’t make it through their third one before they go crazy. For others, it could be their fourth or fifth one.”

“What about you?”

The question hung in the air, and for a second you were worried that you had upset him with how still he was sitting.

“Me?” He chuckled humorlessly, drawing patterns on the rock beneath the two of you. “I can already feel my control slipping sometimes this go around, especially when I’m around you. It’s nothing I can’t handle though.”

“What do you mean?” You frowned, brow furrowing. “I cause your control to slip? Why?”

Jake stared at you, eyes widening once again when he realized what he had said. He shook his head.

“Nevermind. Forget I said anything.”

“No,” you snapped, glaring up at him. “You promised me that you would be honest and tell me what I wanted to know.”

He looked a little taken aback, but let out another sigh as he relented.

“Sea people have what they call ‘true mates,’” he began, “and they’re different from regular mates. True mates are an ideal pair, one the powers that be have ordained as a perfect match. Everyone can take a mate, sure, but very few ever find their true mate. They’re so rare, in fact, that some people think it’s just a myth.”

“Do you?” You asked. “Think it’s a myth, I mean.”

He stared at you for a beat.

“I used to,” he admitted. “I used to think that true mates were just some sappy fairytale that people clung to to make themselves feel better. I used to laugh at the idea, actually. It wasn’t until-”

He stopped, clamping his mouth closed as his cheeks tinged red once again. You furrowed your brow at him.

“Until what?” You pressed. He swallowed thickly, turning to look out at the water.

“Until I met you,” he said quietly, voice barely above a whisper. You let out a small gasp, but waited for him to continue.

“The first night I saw you in that bar, Skipper, I knew. I knew with everything in me that you were the one that I had been looking and waiting for my entire life. You were the one in my dreams growing up. You were the one I could feel in my chest, pulling me towards you. You were the one that made me realize that I could be happy, that I didn’t have to settle for a life that other people had decided for me.”

You stared at him, registering the look of vulnerability on his face, and you sucked in a deep breath.

“I dreamed about you too,” you admitted, causing him to look back at you. “Or, at least I think I did. And I always felt like something was incomplete, like a piece of me was always missing. But when I sit here with you, things just feel…right.”

“Right?” He pressed, leaning in so that your noses were practically brushing each other.

“Yeah,” you murmured, your heartbeat picking up at the close proximity. “Like things aren’t so hard when you’re around. Like I don’t even have to try. Things just feel easy around you, and if I’m being honest, that kind of scares me.”

He hummed, resting his forehead against yours, warm breath running over your face as he breathed out.

“It scares me too,” he said, closing his eyes, his hand reaching out to curl around yours where it rested atop the rock. “My whole life I thought I knew what would happen. I would marry Mandy, I would go work with my father at his business, we’d pop out a couple of kids, and then the rest of life would happen. I’d die in my bed of old age, surrounded by the people that I love having lived a life that anyone would be proud of.”

“And now?” You asked, squeezing his hand. He took a shuddering breath before opening his eyes. You were almost taken aback by how beautiful they were. Swirling shades of sea glass green mixed with darker emerald, a look of pure longing on his face as he stared at you.

“Now, I know that’s not what I want,” he murmured. “I don’t want to be with Mandy. I don’t want to have the pristine, picture perfect family you find in commercials or magazines. I just want you, Skipper. I want you in any way that you’ll have me.”

His eyes were glowing now, the mossy green standing out against the growing darkness of the storm clouds that were rolling in from the sea.

“Your eyes,” you breathed, raising your unoccupied hand to run your fingers across his cheek. “They’re glowing. I knew I wasn’t imagining it.”

Jake nuzzled into the palm of your hand, humming low in his throat as he breathed you in. His eyes fluttered closed as he pressed a chaste kiss in the center of your palm, and your breath hitched. You shifted, leaning in close enough that your lips hovered just over his. His eyes once again connected with yours, boring into you as if he could see every single part that you kept hidden. Your gaze dropped down to his lips for a brief second before darting back up. Eyes hooded, you leaned in, lips barely grazing his before jumping back as the rain started.

The drops came in a downpour, instantly soaking the two of you as you let out a startled laugh.

“Come on!” Jake grinned, gripping your hand and helping you off the rocks before the two of you sprinted towards his house. You trotted up the steps after him, letting out another peel of breathless laughter as the two of you caught your breath. You looked out at the beach as it continued to pour, a peel of thunder cracking through the roar of the rain. You turned back to look at Jake with a smile, shaking your head.

“The rain didn’t even build up to-”

Jake’s lips were soft on yours, pressing firmly as he cupped your cheek in his hand. You froze, taken by surprise. He pulled back after a second, eyes uncertain as they watched you.

“I’m sorry,” he said after a moment, eyes growing wide with panic. “I shouldn’t have done that. I just thought after the rocks and you were standing there looking so pretty, I just-”

You cut him off with a kiss of your own, and he stiffened for a second before returning it. His hands landed on your waist, backing you up against the pillar by the stairs as his lips moved against yours in a heated bid to feel every part of you. Your own hands moved to tangle in his hair, pulling on the still wet strands gently and earning a groan from him. His tongue traced your lower lip, and you instantly opened up to him, relishing in the feeling of the muscle against your own.

Jake’s grip tightened on your waist before moving his right hand up to grope at your breast, squeezing it with a low groan. You moaned into his mouth, one hand releasing his hair to slide down and grip at his shoulder as you pressed against him. He continued to lick languidly into your mouth, savoring the taste of you and every little sound you made. He pulled away to allow you to breathe, nipping at your bottom lip gently. As you sucked in a lungful of air, he busied himself with pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your jaw and down your neck. You tilted your head to the side to allow him better access, and you felt him smirk against you as his left hand grabbed your thigh to wrap your leg around him. You could feel the hard bulge press against you, and a tingle ran up your spine.

“Jake,” you breathed out, head thrown back as he nipped at your skin, running his tongue over the same spot to soothe the sting. His lips worked lower and lower as you began to roll your hips against his. You let out a strangled cry as his lips connected with the intention mark on your neck, pleasure rippling through your veins as you gripped onto him and ground down harder onto him. Jake nipped at the mark, causing you to let out another cry as your nails dug into the meat of his shoulders through his shirt. You could feel your arousal dripping from you as your mind grew heavy with lust.

Suddenly, Jake pushed away from you, practically throwing himself across the porch. You whined at the loss, brow furrowed in confusion as you took in the state of him. He was panting hard, almost crouched as he gripped the porch railing to steady himself. His eyes were still glowing, brighter than they were previously, but fading in and out as he calmed down.

“Jake,” you murmured, “are you okay?”

“Not like this,” he said, more to himself than to you. “I don’t want it to be like this.”

“What are you talking about? Jake, you’re worrying me.”

He looked at you then, taking in your disheveled state as he righted himself. A mixture of regret and longing adorned his face as he spoke.

“I gave that mark to you during a moment of frenzy,” he admitted, gesturing to the bite in question. “I was so scared that you weren’t going to make it, and the frenzy magic was already in overdrive. I gave it to you without thinking, and I’m sorry.”

“Jake,” you said slowly, taking small steps towards him as if you might scare him off otherwise. “I’m not mad about that at all, but why are you suddenly acting this way?”

“Because,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair, “because I already told you. I want you, Skipper, and I want you to want me back. I want to know that you want me for me and not because of some damn magic that tells us we’re supposed to be together.”

You stared at him for a moment, processing what he was telling you. It was true that you felt a pull towards him that could only be explained by the magic, but it felt so much more than that. Jake was sweet and kind, and he cared for you. He made sure that you were taken care of when you were vulnerable, and he wanted to hear your opinions on things. You did want Jake beyond the magic, but you were more than willing to take the time to prove that to him.

“Okay,” you agreed, nodding slowly. “So what do you suggest?”

“Can we,” he swallowed thickly, eyes hopeful as they searched you. “Can we take it a little slow? Maybe spend some time alone together?”

“You mean like on dates?” You smiled, standing in front of him now and batting your lashes at him. A grin tugged on the corner of his lips as he looked down at you, giving you a nod.

“Yeah. I want to take you out on a date.”

“Just the one?” You teased, and he rolled his eyes, a full-blown grin on his face now.

“Well, I was hoping you’d give me more than just that,” he teased back, leaning into you again. You tapped a finger on your chin thoughtfully.

“I dunno,” you hummed, fighting back the smile that threatened to overtake you. “I guess we’ll just have to see how the first one goes, won’t we?”

“I have full confidence in myself that I’ll be able to convince you of that second date.”

“Come on, Crooner,” you laughed, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the front door. “Let’s get changed before we catch a cold or something.”

About a half hour later, you were dressed in a pair of oversized sweats and an old t-shirt - both belonging to Jake. The two of you were huddled up on the couch underneath a blanket, some random movie thrown on to fill the silence. Your legs were curled under you as you rested against Jake’s side, his arms wrapped around you as you played with his fingers.

“You bit him?” You huffed out a laugh as Jake chuckled. “Why?”

“Because Bradley gets a little big for his britches sometimes,” Jake defended. “He knew I had an interest in you and what we were, and he still pressed his luck. Even with the mark on your neck. ”

“Boys,” you exclaimed with a roll of your eyes. A comfortable silence fell between the two of you as the movie continued to drone on in the background.

“Jake,” you hummed thoughtfully, “do you regret giving me this mark?”

He stiffened against you, and you chanced a glance up at him. His lips were pressed into a firm line, brow furrowed as he looked at you.

“Absolutely not,” he bit out. “Why would you think that?”

“It’s just,” you hesitated, still fidgeting with his fingers as you looked down, “it’s just been one thing after the other since you gave it to me. Am I really worth the trouble?”

“Skipper,” he said firmly, cupping your jaw and making you look at him. “I will never regret you, okay? Even if you decide that this isn’t something you want, I will live the rest of my life knowing that I had the privilege of having you even for a moment.”

His eyes were sincere as they held your gaze, and you suddenly felt silly for doubting him. You nodded, willing the tears that prickled behind your eyes to go away. You sniffed before settling back down against him, basking in the feeling of him stroking a hand through your hair.

“Jake! We can’t find Skipper anywh-”

You jumped as the front door burst open to reveal your friends, Bob at the front of the pack. All of you stared at one another before you raised an eyebrow at them.

“Are you coming in or not?” You snapped, fixing them all with a glare. Jake turned the TV off as the squad filed in, taking seats wherever there was one available. Once everyone was settled, you continued.

“Finally decide on how you’re going to lie to me some more? Whatever you came up with, I sure hope it’s better than the ones you were telling me before.”

The group had the decency to look ashamed. Bob gave you an apologetic look as he faced you from where he sat in one of the recliners.

“We never wanted to lie to you, Y/n,” he explained. “But would you have believed the truth?”

“I might have,” you countered. “You could have at least tried.”

“Would you trust an outsider that you barely knew with a secret like this?” Javy chimed in. He made a good point, and your silence answered for you.

“I wanted to tell you, Skipper,” Bob continued, “but it wasn’t my secret to tell. And with all the stuff between you and Jake, it just seemed like it would be so much to throw at you.”

“I get that,” you conceded, nodding slowly. “But Jake’s already told me most of everything, so no more lying to me, okay? I need to know and be kept in the loop moving forward okay?”

Everyone looked at each other before nodding at you. You gave them a small smile before letting out a relieved breath.

“Good,” you chirped. “Now that that’s settled, let’s go get something to eat. I’m starved.”

Tag List: @jakeseresinlover @haley-hotchner @queerqueenlynn @dempy @fanficfandomlove @aworldwideapart @stoptaking-the-good-names @maximus890 @sky2nd @devil-angel-winchester @hopip99 @hookslove1592 @lemmons1998 @yuckosworld @uniquedreamlandcheesecake @imamomof8 @pietrothemovie @kmc1989 @mamachasesmayhem @hangmansgbaby @imnotcreativeenoughforthisblog @deliriousfangirl61 @hangmandruigandmav @na-ta-sh-aa @witchybabel @keyrani @i-wanna-be-your-muse @buckysteveloki-me @clancycucumber230 @dreamlandcreations @emotionallysalty @fandom-life-12 @a-girl-who-loves-disney @nouis-bum @topherwrites @squeaky-bumblbee22 @hangmansgbaby @goldenseresinretriever @bobgasm @linkpk88 @number-0-iz @xl-pr @stillreadingfantasy @shibble @horseshoegirl

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#meet me at the sea #mmats #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake hangman seresin x you #top gun hangman #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin fic #hangman x reader #hangman imagine #hangman top gun #hangman seresin #hangman seresin x reader #hangman seresin x you

[corroded-hellfire]

Never Have I Ever - Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: You come home after your first semester of college and spend the day with your best friend, Eddie. You’re both confused as to where the other stands in terms of relationships, but a drinking game only adds to the confusion.

Note: This is for my darling wifey @inourtownofhawkins whom I love the mostest, despite what she says. I hope you like the story bb! 💙

Warnings: underage drinking, talk of sex, oblivious idiots in love

Words: 2.4k

Coming home from college for winter break was exciting for a number of reasons. Obviously, there was the break from exams and papers, but it was also nice to come back home. Seeing family was great, seeing friends was fun, but seeing Eddie was the best part. Sure, you made sure to talk on the phone at least once a week while you were away, but it’s not the same as spending time together in person. You’d told him about your shitty dates with a guy named Carl, your great dates with a guy named Scott, and how your roommate was the biggest slob you’ve ever met in your life - including Eddie when he was a young teenager. He’d kept you up on the news of Hawkins, like if Max and Lucas were currently together or broken up, how many times Vickie had to play referee to Steve and Robin’s fights, and what the current ETA was for Hopper proposing to Joyce.

Since you’d come home you’ve hung out with him with the rest of the gang, he’d come over to your house for dinner, and at a movie night with the older teens at Steve’s house. But today it’s just you and Eddie at his place. It’s something you’ve done hundreds of times but being alone with Eddie still gives you a rush of butterflies swirling around your stomach. 

“Welcome to the Munson residence,” Eddie says, gesturing around the trailer as if you’d never been there before.

“I’m familiar with it,” you say with a smirk. “I didn’t think you or Wayne would do some drastic redecorating while I was gone, so yes, I recognize the place.” 

“That’s what you think.” Eddie wiggles his eyebrows and his eyes drift down the hallway towards his room.

You give him a curious look before toeing off your boots and heading in that direction. The room smells the same; like weed, cologne, and something distinctly Eddie. But it looks the same, too. Brow furrowing, you walk around the small room, looking for something to stand out to you as different. There’s a small collection of photos taped to Eddie’s closet, so you pad over to look them over. Right in the middle is the picture of you and Eddie at graduation, clad in your green gown and caps, golden tassels hanging in your faces as you stick your tongue out and Eddie flips off the camera. Next to it there’s a picture of Eddie with the Hellfire guys, all wearing their matching shirts. The one under it has your breath catching in your throat, though. It’s obviously from Halloween, and Eddie’s with Dustin, Max, Steve, Will, and some girl draped across his lap on a couch. Pulse kicking up, you stare at the girl’s face, seeing if you recognize her from high school. Her long dark hair and beautiful brown skin don’t ring a bell, though. Half of your brain is telling you to calm down, that they could be friends, but the other half is telling you that friends don’t sit in each other’s laps like that.

“Find it yet?” Eddie asks from behind you. 

“Who’s this?” you ask, eyes never leaving the picture. Eddie’s footsteps come from over near the door and his hair brushes your shoulder as he leans in to see what you’re looking at.

“Oh, that’s Mia,” Eddie says. The way he says it makes it sound like you should know who he’s talking about. You know you would’ve remembered him talking about a girl. Especially if he mentioned she was this beautiful. “Did I not tell you about her?” Before you can answer, he keeps speaking. “But that’s not where the difference in my room is.”

Eddie takes your shoulders and leads you to the other side of his room, your socked feet trying to dig in against the carpet, but failing. When his hands drop, you instantly notice the difference in the room that he was talking about.

“Wow, I’m impressed,” you say with a smirk. Taking a few steps forward, you run your fingers over his Sweetheart’s strings - something only you’re allowed to do. “You actually bought a guitar stand instead of hanging her over your mirror.”

“Only the best for my girl.”

Sweetheart or Mia, you think to yourself bitterly. 

“It’s very nice,” you tell him.

“Thank you.” He tugs on a lock of your hair. “Now, come on. Let’s go play.”

“What’re we playing?” you ask as you follow him out of the room. 

“Nintendo,” he calls over his shoulder. “I’m Mario. You’re Luigi.”

You sit down on the couch as Eddie sets up the game.

“Princess Peach is mine,” you tell him.

“Hot,” Eddie says, and even though you can’t see his face, you know he’s smirking. He plops down next to you and tosses a controller in your lap. Cheater as always though, he’s pressed play before you’ve even got it in your hands. 

“Asshole,” you call as you speed behind him. 

Eddie laughs and pokes his tongue out of his lips as he concentrates. He repeatedly kicks your ass at the game before you accuse him of cheating, and he drops his controller to tackle you down to the floor. You howl with laughter as his fingers dig into the sides of your ribs, tickling you where he knows you’re the most ticklish. 

“Off!” you screech. Unsurprisingly, Eddie doesn’t listen, and keeps going until you’re squirming so hard you’re getting rug burn on your lower back where your shirt has ridden up. “Eddie, I’m going to pee myself!”

That has him finally letting go, even if it takes him a second. He smirks down at you and ruffles your hair before he gets off the floor.

“Let’s play another game,” he says.

“So you can cheat again?” You’re still on the floor, looking up at him as he walks to the kitchen. 

Eddie scoffs and grabs a bottle off the top of the refrigerator. You sit up to try and get a better look at what he’s doing.

“Tell me how one cheats at a drinking game.” Eddie walks back over to you, shaking a vodka bottle at you. 

“Ooh, gimme.” Eddie holds the bottle up out of your reach, making you stand up on your tippy toes, fingers still not able to brush the bottom of the glass. 

“Never have I ever?” He lets you take the bottle so he can grab two mugs off the wall - making sure to grab Garfield for you because he knows it’s your favorite.

“Do we not know each other too well for that game?” you ask, sitting back down on the couch.

“I’m sure we’ve both got some dirty secrets,” Eddie says with a smirk. “Plus, you’ve been away at college. How am I supposed to know all the naughty stuff you got up to this semester?” The redness that comes to your cheeks has him smirking even bigger. He sits down next to you and pours a decent amount of vodka in both mugs. 

“Fine. You go first,” you say. 

Eddie swirls the clear alcohol around the mug as he thinks, lips pursing together in a way that keeps your eyes glued to them.

“Never have I ever kissed a girl.” When you don’t take a sip, but he does, Eddie groans and drops his head back. “Your turn.”

“Okay. Never have I ever…had a one-night stand.”

Eddie narrows his eyes at you as he takes a sip from his mug.

“I told you that in confidence.”

“There’s no one else here,” you say with a laugh. 

“Whatever. This is supposed to be telling me things about you.” He rolls his eyes over dramatically as he thinks of the next question. “Never have I ever given a handjob.”

“Not even to yourself?” You raise an eyebrow at him.

“You know what I mean.”

You give him a smirk before taking a sip of vodka from Garfield’s head. 

“Who?” Eddie gasps playfully, pressing a hand to his chest. “Who corrupted my innocent little friend?”

“Those are two different questions. The handjob was Scott. You corrupted me though.” 

Eddie was right, you both did have some dirty secrets. But you were also right, that you two know each other too well for this game. The questions just become targeted attacks, picking things you know the other has done, making each other drink. It quickly leads to the both of you being thoroughly tipsy, bordering on just this side of drunk.

“Now what?” you ask with a giggle. 

“I dunno,” Eddie says. “Uh, never have I ever had a crush on my best friend. Oh, shit, wait.”

“‘Oh, shit, wait,’ what? You got a crush on Steve or something?” You’re looking right at him but through your vodka fueled eyes, you don’t see his face turning red.

“Never mind. You ask a question.” Eddie’s avoiding looking at your face and it makes you roll your eyes. 

“Okay…never have I ever asked a question in this game and then taken it back.”

“Seriously?” Now he looks at you, and his face is unimpressed.

“Drink up, baby,” you say, pointing at him. 

He pretends to take another sip, and you assume he really did it. But with that slip up that he just made, he knows he can’t afford any more alcohol. 

“I thought I was your best friend,” you say with a pout. Eddie’s eyes widen comically, and he’s not sure how to answer that. The alcohol is starting to make him tired and combined with the anxiety of his secret almost being spilled, he starts to get a little angry.

“S’your turn,” he says, sinking down in his seat. 

“Don’t wanna play anymore,” you say through a yawn. “Wanna know what you meant.” 

“Why?” Eddie asks with an annoyed groan.

“Cause you said it!”

He huffs and puts his mug down so he can rub his hands over his face. Placing your mug next to his, you lean forward so you’re closer to Eddie. When he drops his hands from his face, your face is closer to his than he expects, and he flinches back. 

“Why won’t you tell me?” you ask with a pout. “We tell each other everything.” 

He only hears about half of what you say though, because his eyes lock on your lips and they’re all he’s able to focus on. The way they move when you speak, the way your tongue comes out to lick at them, how the pink skin pulls together when you set your mouth in a pout. Eddie can’t take it anymore and just needs to get it out.

“I wanna kiss you but you have a boyfriend.”

You pull back, eyebrows wrinkling in confusion as you look at him. Unsure if you heard him correctly or not, you run the words through your head again a few times. 

“I don’t have a boyfriend,” you say. “I thought you had a girlfriend.” 

Eddie’s jaw hangs open as he stares at you.

“Why would you think I have a girlfriend?” he asks.

“That girl.” You gesture to his bedroom where you’d seen the picture. “She was on your lap. Lea. Or, Mia.”

“Mia?” Eddie lets out a laugh and shakes his head. “She was Steve’s date on Halloween. Steve was dressed as a doctor. I was Dr. Scrivello.” At your blank look, he continues. “The sadistic dentist from Little Shop of Horrors? Steve Martin’s character?”

“Oh, right.”

“Anyway, Mia got confused I guess, cause we had kinda similar costumes. And she’d had a few to drink by that point so she sat down on me, thinking I was Steve. Haven’t seen her since then. Don’t think Steve has either, actually.”

The relief that courses through your system makes you feel guilty. Eddie’s entitled to have whoever he wants sit on his lap, even if it breaks your heart. But this was just an innocent mistake, so most of the jealousy drains out of your body. 

“Wait,” you say, mind catching up to the entirety of the conversation. “Why would you think I have a boyfriend?”

“Scott.” Eddie says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Scott’s not my boyfriend,” you tell him.

“But you told me about all those amazing dates you had with him. And then you just admitted all that dirty stuff you did with him in our game.” Eddie’s big doe eyes make him look like a puppy that just got kicked. You slide closer to him on the couch and grab his hand in yours.

“Yeah, but he’s not my boyfriend. This was all a while ago. I haven’t gone out with him in over a month. I think he’s dating someone else now.”

“Did he dump you?” Eddie asks and the alcohol in your system makes you giggle at the look on Eddie’s face. His eyes are wide, and his mouth is open, causing you to lift his chin up to close it, the slight stubble tickling your fingers.

“No. I said I wanted to stop seeing him. He was nice and all, and we had fun, but I didn’t feel a whole lot for him. Kinda felt like my heart was already with someone else.”

“Who?” Eddie asks. 

“You, silly. You’d‘ve known that if you didn’t take back your question before,” you say with a devious smirk. “Because I would’ve had to drink because I have had a crush on my best friend. Still do, in fact.”

“You do?”

“Mhmm. So, you can kiss me if you want to. I’d like it. A lot.”

“You would?”

You giggle and reach up to run your fingers through his hair. 

“Maybe tomorrow would be better. You’re entering your sleepy state of drunk now.” 

Eddie couldn’t help but smile. He loved how well you knew him - sober or otherwise. And of course, you were right. 

“S’gonna be the first thing I do tomorrow,” he tells you. 

“Guess I should sleep next to you then,” you say with a shrug. “So my lips are right there when you wake up.” 

It’s exactly what you do. And Eddie does exactly as he says. You’re already awake when he blinks his eyes open, the sunlight shining through the window and casting shadows over your two bodies. The night before comes back to him, a smile lighting up his face as it does so. When his gaze meets yours, he can tell you remember everything too. Without speaking a word, Eddie cups your jaw gently in his large hand, and leans in to press his lips against yours. 

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fan fiction

[lady-rose-moon]

Understanding Home Alone || Loki x Reader || Secret Santa fic!!

A/N: hello everybody, this is my entry for @fictive-sl0th Secret Santa fics! My fic is for @cultofcarter, your request was so interesting and the Christmas movie idea was perfect! I went for a Christmas classic, however, I hope you don't mind.

Fic dedicated to: @cultofcarter

Word count: 1.6K

Contents: fluff, christmas movie commentary, slightly sad ending with hopeful meanings

PLEASE ENJOY AND HAVE A MERRY CHRISTMAS!

As December rolled around again, you were excited to finally spend it with the one you’d desired to for so long. Now that you had gotten over the nervousness of being in a relationship with the villain turned Avenger Loki Laufeyson, you were fully prepared to be the most annoying girlfriend in the history of girlfriends this Christmas season. The God of Mischief was no stranger to Christmas, he told you as much, expressing his sorrows for turning Yuletide into Christmas some years ago and you grinned at the idea of showing him movies dedicated to the Christmas Spirit.  

The morning your decision was put into the making, you’d managed to sneak into Loki’s bedroom and decorate his room with green decoration, including a small Christmas tree that you’d stolen from one of the floors of Avengers Compound. Tony wouldn’t miss it.  

“Loki!” you called out with a grin as he roused from his sleep, his ebony curls deliciously falling around his shoulders as he sat up in bed to stare at you tiredly. The moment he registered the difference in the room, he raised an eyebrow at you and you only smiled back innocently with a soft, “what?” 

“What have you done to my chambers?” the God demanded, looking around the room with a grimace as you shifted on your feet, unsure as to whether he was happy or unhappy. 

“Well... it’s Christmas time so I decided to decorate your room to have some fun for Christmas!” you replied with an uneasy smile, your body tense as you tried to figure out what the God in front of you was thinking to the redecorating. “I know you usually don’t dabble in the seasons but... it could be fun, just me and you watching movies and having Christmas cookies?” you added, gesturing to the tupperware full of Christmas cookies you’d baked a few hours earlier.  

The God of Mischief's lips twitched slightly as he took in the sight of you standing proudly next to your handiwork. It made sense that he wouldn't love the idea of something being changed in his personal space, but there was no denying that a part of that twitch was from a soft smile. His eyes drifted to the tupperware container and the cookies it held. 

 "You baked Christmas cookies?" he asked, a soft tone to his voice in spite of the amusement in his eyes. "And you said watching movies? What movie would we be watching?" 

Loki rolls his eyes, but he has to smile a little at the adorable attitude you have towards Christmas. It's a sweet, endearing trait that the God has noticed about you. 

He grabs the container of Christmas cookies by your side and takes a bite of one before he turns his attention to the movie you're putting on. "Fine, home alone can be fun," he says with a half-hearted shrug, though you have the feeling that he secretly loves the idea. 

You eagerly sat on the bed, Christmas cookies open between you and Loki as the movie began. When you looked over to Loki, you saw that he'd conjured up a book, his eyes flitting across the words then to the screen every so often. *That's fine*, you thought to yourself as you turned back to the TV, *at least he was spending time with you*. 

As the movie began, you bunched your legs up and hugged them, resting your chin on your knees with a contented sigh. All of this was so special to you, the tradition going back so far that you could barely remember the Christmas it started with your family. "Look whatcha did ya little jerk," you repeated the line with a grimace after Kevin spilled the milk over everything in the movie, grinning when Uncle Frank said it just seconds later, turning to Loki with delight, catching him watching the screen before his eyes darted down to his book. 

As you eat your Christmas cookies and watch the movie, Loki enjoys himself in his own way. He's watching both the movie and reading his book at once, only stopping when he wants to focus on one thing or another. 

Loki feels his eyes drift to you from time to time, as if he's drawn back to the sight of you every so often. Your adorable personality shines through in the small moments of interaction, and even though he may not show it, he's certainly having a great time. 

"Oh, darling! This movie isn't meant to be serious!" you tease, turning to him with a mischievous smile. He's so concerned and it brings a smile to your face, knowing to anybody else it would seem as if he doesn’t care. But with you? Yeah, you’re definitely his Achilles heel. "It's a comedy about a child getting into all sorts of hijinks!" 

You chuckle at him and nudge him playfully, grinning when he reacts accordingly. "It's called 'Home Alone', remember?" 

Loki huffed, leaning back against the wall, his eyes glued to the TV screen as Kevin explores the house alone. He didn't understand how a family could just leave and forget that their child was upstairs still, no alarm clock to wake him and Fuller had been moved so Kevin wouldn't have to sleep with a bed-wetter. Even with the annoying child across the road coming to annoy the leaving family, that made no excuse for someone checking for Kevin in the bus or in the airport!  

"Loki, come on," you chided with an affectionate smile, handing him a snowman cookie with a soft smile, "he's fine!" 

Continuing on with the movie, you watched Loki's reactions intently as the neighbour - the supposed antagonist - appeared in the shop, causing Kevin to retreat without paying for his toothbrush. "I'm a criminal," you whispered Kevin's line, grinning as Kevin said it seconds later then you smiled wider as Harry and Marv were seen in the van and almost hit Kevin. Loki flinches as the van stops just milliseconds before it could hit Kevin and then watches with bated breath as Kevin hides in the Nativity from the robbers.  

"For a Christmas movie, this has serious storytelling, why do they even care about the child?" Loki muttered to himself, a look of disbelief appearing on his face. 

"I feel like you have these moments where you think you're being all cold and logical, but then your heart just takes over and you're suddenly way more invested than you ever intended to be!" you tell Loki, poking him playfully. 

Loki watches the movie with intense interest, his eyes glued to the screen. He can't seem to take his eyes off the situation, a slight worry forming on his face. When the scene changes to the house full of "life", however, he is confused. When he sees inside, noticing that it was just a deception to scare away the robbers, he sighed in relief and whispered, "kid's a master of mischief." 

As the movie progresses and the pair of robbers break into the house, Loki is focused on the movie in a way you haven't seen him focused on anything so far. His eyes fill with tension as he watches Kevin set up his home alone booby traps, his brow furrowing in concern. When he looks away from the screen, he is visibly anxious in a way you haven't seen from him before. 

He turns to you but can't seem to ask any questions, his lips twitching slightly as his nerves get the better of him. "You... you think this kid needs help? Normal kids would never do this" he asks nervously. 

"It's exaggerated, Loki," you grinned with a shake of your head before you went quiet, watching the scene where Marv and Harry try to break in, laughing at all of the ways that they get hurt then when they get arrested, you looked over at him and whispered, "definitely took notes from your mischief, Mischief!" 

"You still gave him a run for his money, Loki, best believe you grew from your mistakes!" you whispered before you became transfixed with the screen again, watching Kevin reunite with his mother and you see Loki stiffen before a tear formed in his eye. You knew why. He missed his mother. He missed his family. You took that moment to snuggle in close to him and feel his heart beating beneath your ear, in this moment you were the only thing that existed to him. 

As you cuddle up against him and put an arm around the God, he leans his head against your shoulder with his eyes still glued to the screen. There has been plenty of times when you've known that Loki can act like a child, but this is something new altogether. You feel him lean against you more, and that tear still rests in his eyes as he's clearly reliving some memories. There is a sadness to the God as he remembers his home and family, and he rests his head against your chest, hoping to find some comfort in your embrace. 

You sat up, looking Loki in the eye before wiping the tear gently and whispering, “your mother waits for you in Asgard, Loki. When you have fulfilled your servitude here, she will be allowed to see you. It is only a matter of time.” 

With a gentle smile, Loki leaned into your touch and gazed up into your eyes while whispering, “merry Christmas, Y/N.” 

His words kept ringing in your mind, how sorrowful and lonely he felt. You knew that as long as he remained here on Earth, he would never truly be happy. 

“Merry Christmas, Loki,” you responded softly, feeling him shudder against you with sadness, pressing a kiss to the God’s forehead, “you’ll be able to show me Asgard soon.” 

@lokisgoodgirl @lokisninerealms @slpnbty2001 @jennyggggrrr @hahaha12123445 @ozymdias @holdmytesseract @itsybitchylittlewitchy @lovingchoices14 @xorpsbane @huntress-artemiss @muddyorbs @nerdy-fangirl-65 @lonadane @silverfire475 @chantsdemarins @iamsherlocked1479 @kittiowolf210 @just-someone11 @stupidthoughtsinwriting @loki-laufeyson-1054 @fictive-sl0th @coldnique @anukulee @eleniblue @asgards-princess-of-mischief

#loki #loki x reader #loki laufeyson #tom hiddleston #loki fluff #loki laufeyson x reader #mcu loki #reblog please #tom hiddleston character x reader #loki hurt/comfort #loki x you #hot loki #FictiveSlothSecretSanta #Camilles Secret Santa #Secret Santa 2023

[gravedigginbbydoll]

pencil shavings and shared smiles {pt.2}

Fem! Teacher Reader x Teacher! Eddie

Previous Masterlist Next

AN: I’m honestly so grateful to find people who enjoy my writing :) This started as a bit of fun aside from my current WIP that I’m DETERMINED to not immediately trash, so I wanted to practice some writing on the side, and hey, it’s been a while since I’ve done fanfiction (like, over 6 years…. I think my last fanfic was at age 16! I'm now 23.) so I figured why not? Anyways, I hope you enjoy this next bit (I’ll be honest, I was struggling with it, but the next chapters will be better, I swear!) I don’t have an exact plan for how many parts this will be, but I’m excited to see where it’s headed! 

WARNINGS AND CONTENT:  Minors DNI!!!, Noncanon, Hawkins AU, Normal Hawkins, Rumors about Eddie, Eventual Smut, Very fluffy, Outcasts and Bullying, Mentions of Loneliness, Flirting, Fem!Reader, use of Y/N, older! Eddie, short-haired Eddie, 1995/1996 Hawkins, F! Reader has a dark past, angst.

Summary: You settle into Hawkins, looking for a way to spruce up your place, and bump into a familiar face. You maybe even meet some new friends. Things are looking up. 

The next few days following your encounter with Eddie, you throw yourself into trying to get settled in and getting to know the town. You had been there for a few days before coming to the school but still had boxes piled high and needed some items. 

You focused on moving all the boxes into their designated spaces. But then, you realized you didn’t have much when it came down to it. You had work clothes, plates and bowls, cutlery, basic toiletries, cleaning supplies, and three makeup items. 

In your rush to leave the city, you left so much behind you hadn’t realized. As a result, your apartment looks abandoned in its barren state, and the hideous peeling pink floral wallpaper from the 70s makes your skin crawl. 

That’s what led you to this moment. A shopping spree throughout Hawkins. You’re determined to make the “blink, and you miss it” town feel cozy and like home. It is home now, after all. Though you may need a blanket to cover the ugly cracked green leather couch that came with the place. 

You’re piling up blankets, knick-knacks, and even plants to busy the place. By the time you get to the antique store, you’re sure you’ve burned a hole in your savings. You look around, admiring old furniture with history you wish you knew. You see a large wooden bookshelf, probably older than you, and bite your lip, picturing the perfect reading nook in your large window, a chair with too many pillows, and a table to set your favorite cup of coffee on. You did just buy some new mugs, after all. 

In your daydreaming, you barely notice the presence creeping toward you. 

“As lovely as that little vintage piece is, I heard it’s haunted.” 

You jump a bit, startled by the sudden speaking. When you turn, you feel that familiar creeping of heat across your skin, your stomach twists with nerves while your heart thumps a loud, steady beat. Eddie. He’s wearing a super distressed band shirt with the sleeves cut off, his slightly muscular inked biceps on display. Your thighs tighten at the display, and you mentally scold yourself. 

Now is not the time! Get a hold of yourself.

His brown eyes twinkle with mischief as he tilts his head at you, sticking his thumbs in his jeans pockets. You are instantly reminded of a puppy and feel your insides practically melt. Your heart is thumping embarrassingly loud. You hope to god the cute metalhead in front of you doesn’t somehow have super senses. 

“You redecorating?” 

You shrug, a shy smile gracing your lips. “You could say that, I guess.”

He nods and looks back at the bookcase with intrigue. His expression is thoughtful yet almost solemn as he speaks softly, his words barely reaching you. “Seriously though, that bookcase is bad luck. Belonged to a notorious killer. Henry Creel. Killed his whole family when he was like 9.” 

You feel a chill go up your spine, the sense of fear deep in your belly. But, of course, you knew the old trope of sleepy towns never really being sleepy. Still, the last thing you would’ve guessed to happen in Hawkins was premeditated murder. You peek over at Eddie, who looks at you; his eyes are almost sorrowful as he rubs your shoulder comfortingly. You feel an electric current shoot through you at his touch, and goosebumps shoot up your neck. A flutter in your stomach reminds you that you are far too emotional about this man, despite barely knowing him. 

“Sorry,” He rasps. “I sometimes ramble and forget what I’m saying. I didn’t mean to spook you. It was ages ago. He’s in jail now.” He pulls away his warm touch, and you almost find yourself leaning back for more. 

You shake your head. “It’s fine. Everyone has skeletons in the closet, don’t they?” You remark jokingly, trying to lighten the mood. 

Eddie’s eyes don’t sparkle as they usually do, and he looks a bit more guarded as he smiles softly. “Yeah.” 

You feel a tug at your heart and remember the encounter between the grouchy bookstore owner and Eddie. It’s clear he has a past, but you won’t bring it up. After all, you’re the last person who should be digging through someone’s history. 

“Hey, so a few friends and I are headed to a bar called The Hideout; tonight to bid adieu to summer. I was just wondering…if you’d like to join?” Eddie says shyly, scratching the back of his neck as his cheeks flush. “Of course, I understand if not; I just figured since you’re new here, it may help you get more acclimated and maybe even meet some people-” 

You cut off his rambling with a hand, your lips fighting the urge to smile so vast your jaw may break. “Eddie, I’d love to. What time?” 

He grins, his signature dimples appearing and making your stomach flutter. “Great. Around 7 pm tonight. First drink on me.” 

You feel your cheeks heat once again as you nod, tucking some hair behind your ear. “Can’t wait.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later on in the evening, you are stressed and pacing. You remember dancing and singing to calm anxiety as a young teen and get the bright idea to turn on the radio to your favorite rock station. 

Now, you're dancing around your living room as You Oughta Know by Alanis Morrisette plays on your radio. You’re dressed in a black slip dress, the satin fabric accentuating your figure. Maybe you’re dressed a little too nice for a bar. Who cares? Dr. Martens on your feet create a more casual look but also possibly causes a noise complaint from your neighbors as you stomp and sing, applying makeup. 

“AND I’M HERE! TO REMIND YOU! OF THE MESS YOU LEFT WHEN YOU WENT AWAY!” 

You scream into your hairbrush, jumping around. 

The singing calms your nerves a bit, and by the end of the song, you’re panting and thinking maybe you should try to hit the gym more. 

You glance at the clock and realize the time is flashing a red and angry 7:30 pm. 

“Shit shit shit shit shit!” You scramble, tripping over your feet, quickly putting on earrings and a choker, trying to rush out the door. 

Fucking Alanis Morissette. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You arrive at the bar, hoping to pass off as fashionably late. You look around before spotting Eddie, his back to you in a well-loved leather jacket. He’s at a booth with some friends, a dark stout in his hand. 

You tremble slightly as you walk over, your body thrumming with nervousness, and tap him on the shoulder. He turns, lighting up the minute he sees you. “Hey! You made it! Come on and sit down.” 

You feel embarrassment sink into your skin, hands nervously fiddling as you sit beside him. He introduces the rest of the table, practically making your head spin. There’s Nancy, a petite and beautiful brunette who works as a Chief Editor for the local paper. Steve, a handsome man with an impressive head of hair, works as a coach at Hawkins Middle and High Schools. Robin a talkative and nervous blonde who works as a band teacher at Hawkins High. According to Eddie, this wasn’t everyone in their circle, just the ones he could fit in a booth. You laugh, nerves wracking your stomach as you hope to make a good impression. 

A few minutes in, you’re laughing and practically snorting at a story Steve is telling about Eddie accidentally flashing everyone in a Romeo and Juliet drama production, where he insisted to the drama teacher that they swap the actors and actresses. Eddie had been playing a side character, a plain maiden, when he tripped over his dress and - “Absolutely ate shit! He landed with his head between his legs, and everyone could see his Garfield boxers!” 

You can’t stop laughing at the image of a smaller and younger Eddie, his loud personality causing so much chaos on the stage. You were glad he had gone to buy your drink, seeing as you had laughed so hard you were sure tears had fallen from your eyes. You wiped your eyes and sighed, taking a breath in. 

Eddie returned at that exact moment with your drink, settling it down while playfully glaring at Steve. “Harrington, you better not be talking shit.” 

Steve flicks a paper straw wrapper at Eddie and scoffs. “Can it, Munson. I could kick your ass any day.” 

Eddie immediately leaps into action and pulls Steve into a headlock, tousling his hair while laughing. Steve yells, trying to fight off the taller man and protect his hair. Robin laughs and rolls her eyes while Nancy softly smiles, shaking her head. 

“Knock it off, you two. You’re letting on that you’re both children way too early. I need new friends,” Robin whines, covering her face in embarrassment. 

You feel sheepish, smiling. You’re not used to the attention. Not this much, anyway. But you’re having fun. Eddie’s friends are vibrant, loud, and the most genuine people you’ve ever met. 

Eddie lets Steve go, Steve grumbling about his hair and sitting back next to Robin, who smirks at him while she messes his hair up even more. Eddie then takes his spot next to you, sliding in, and due to the small booth, your thighs touch. You can’t help but feel warmth creeping across your insides from the alcohol and Eddie’s clothed leg pressing against yours, which is bare. You ignore the heat pooling between your thighs at the contact and the ever-so-sinful thoughts about his ringed and masculine hands. 

Eddie leans over to you, his blinding grin causing your stomach to join in on the anatomy shuffle currently happening in your body, fluttering to the point that you think you may have swallowed a bird. 

“Sorry if we’re a bit much. But, now you’ll have a few familiar faces, right?” 

You nod, smiling softly. “Yeah. Thanks, Eddie.” 

He nods, and you almost swear you see his eyes dart toward your lips before he turns back towards the group, all arguing about what the next movie night should be. You feel your heart skip a beat. You can’t help but be grateful for this introduction and even the awkwardness it brought. You now felt a little less of a stranger in Hawkins. A sense of relief rushes through you. Maybe, things won’t have to be so lonely. 

Eddie interrupts your thoughts once more when he leans over towards you. You almost feel drunk on the scent of tobacco, vanilla, rum, and something spicy like cloves and cinnamon. Your thighs tighten, and you curse your brain for instantly thinking dirty thoughts. You’re in no state to have a physical or romantic relationship. Your throat tightens as you push down the ideas and look at Eddie. 

“Hey, so we're goin' to hang out at the Palace Arcade. It’s usually super packed, but tonight they’re having a party there, so no one under 21. You wanna join?” His eyes sparkle with mischief and something you may be misreading as hope. 

You bite your lip, thinking that maybe you’re too deep and should head to the comfort and quiet of home. You haven’t been to an arcade in years. Much less a party. Sour memories threaten to come up, but you push them down and set your resolve. You are just a woman in her mid-twenties trying to have fun. You deserve that, at least. Even if it’s really a lie. 

You smile at Eddie, nodding. “Sure, I’ll tag along. I haven’t been to an arcade in years.” 

Eddie grins, his dimples flashing. “Great. You can meet the band.” 

You perk up, looking at Eddie quizzically. “Band?”

He nods but puts his finger to his lips and winks, signifying it’s a secret. You furrow your brows and feel your stomach flutter as the ever prominent question wracks your brain again. 

Who the hell is this man?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

taglist: @bebe07011 @corrodedcoffincumslut @kurdtbean @nerdflash

#eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie stranger things #stranger things 4 #eddie munson x y/n #pencils shavings and shared smiles #teacher! eddie #teacher! em #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #steve harrington #stranger things x reader #eddie munson au

[burrowbaddie]

This was a request for Dad!Joe celebrating his son's birthday. I hope you like it @mrsshiesty

Dad!Joe is the type of dad to go all out for his son every birthday. I'm talking about he wakes up at 5 am to decorate his door. Joe has kept a neat list in his phone of everything his son even glanced at or mentioned. Dad!Joe might have gone overboard and bought him every toy he asked for throughout the year.

"Joe, do we really need to do this. I think-"

"Shhh. You'll wake him. I think it's a good tradition. Plus, he really likes it. With the new baby coming, he's been feeling left out." Joe whispers. You nod your head and pass him the tape. When you announced you were pregnant, Little Joe didn't take it so well. He did not want a sister he would have to share his daddy with. You rub your belly, watching your husband put the final touches on the door. This year, Jojo was really into dinosaurs. He had you and Joe redecorate his room to a dinosaur-themed room, including a Jeep bed with a T-Rex head hanging over it.

"It looks great. Now can we please go to bed? I'm 8 months, my feet hurt, and if I don't get my sleep in, I will be even more cranky."

Joe nods and pulls you to the bedroom. You only get two more hours of sleep before the birthday boy comes running in.

"Happy birthday to me! Jojo is 5 now!" He shouts. Joe sits up, pulling Jojo into the bed. You watch your son bounce on the bed excitedly.

"Dad! Make me the oatmeal with the dino eggs, please!" Jojo screams. Joe scoops him up, and they disappear, leaving you to sleep for a little bit more. You wake up around 10:30 to the boys watching Jurassic Park. You can't even remember the number of times Jojo has made you both watch those movies. You could probably recite the lines. Joe crawls out of the tent to pepper your face with kisses.

"Have you guys just been watching this?"

"Yeah, it's what he wanted. Hurry up and shower; you know we're taking him to the dinosaur exhibit." He reminds you.

"Actually, I need to stay here and get things ready plus, I think this will be good for you guys to talk. Our daughter will be here in 3 weeks, and he still refuses to talk about it." You whisper the last part. Joe agrees and takes Jojo upstairs to shower and get ready. The boys return wearing matching t-shirts and shorts. You kiss your boys and wish them farewell for now. You need to get everything ready for the surprise party.

"Dad. I'm a big kid now. I can sit in the front, right?"

"Not yet, kiddo. You need to get a little bit older." Joe laughs, strapping him into his car seat. Jojo starts playing with his T-rex along the drive. When they arrive, Joe gets stopped by some fans in the parking lot. He takes photos, but when the crowd gets too much, he has to decline. He didn't want to ruin Jojo's day.

"Why are those people taking photos, Dad?"

"I'm famous."

"Why?"

"Because Daddy plays football professionally; remember we talked about it?"

Jojo stares at him.

"But you're just daddy. How can you be famous?"

"Umm, you know the movie we watch? The people on there are acting professionally, so they are also famous." Joe explains. Jojo stares at him again.

"Am I famous?" He asks. Joe chuckles.

"Kinda, but not really."

"I see. Look how big this brachiosaur is!" Jojo shouts, wiggling out of Joe's arms. Joe sets him down and watches his son sprint the outside standee. Joe snaps a few photos and sends them to you. Jojo takes his hand and leads him to the entrance. Joe takes out his card to pay, but the cashier lets' him know it's free.

"I can't do that. It's fine."

"We insist, Joe." The manager says.

"At least let me pay for the family behind me." Joe hands the card over and the manager charges it. Jojo taps his foot waiting for his father to come. Joe finally finishes and takes his hand.

"We should start with the North America dinosaurs, then make our way around," Jojo shouts, holding up the map. Joe does his best to let Jojo take the lead, but people keep stopping them.

"Dad! We're going to miss the show!" Jojo yells.

"I need to get-"

"You need to get us another ring." An older guy says with his buddy nodding.

"I will try my best. Next season we plan to go harder." Joe nervously laughs.

"Dad!" Jojo screams, causing everyone to look. Joe excuses himself and follows Jojo.

"Sorry, the show started and unfortunately once it started we can't let anyone in." The worker apologizes but Jojo's eyes start to water.

"I'm so sorry little man."

"Take me home! I want Mommy!" He cries.

"Look, we still have one more floor to go to."

"I said home!" Jojo runs off, and Joe chases him. He picks Jojo up and takes him to the last floor. Jojo buries his face in Joe's neck and refuses to pay attention. Joe mispronounces the dinosaur names on purpose so that Jojo corrects him every time.

"No that is Diplodocus, dad." Jojo corrects him smiling.

"So smart." Joe kisses his head and lets Jojo down to explore. This time Joe refuses photos and autographs, which most people understand. He is not there at star quarterback Joe Burrow. Today he is only dad. Joe takes Jojo back for the show, but the next show isn't until 3, and they needed to head home for the party.

"It's his birthday today, and it would really mean a lot."

"I understand, but there is nothing I can do."

"Can you ask you, manager, please tell him it's for Joe Burrow." Joe folds his hand, begging. He hated using the I'm Joe Burrow thing, but it was Jojo's birthday, and he wanted to see this show. Joe would do anything to keep him happy. The worker pages the manager.

"Play the show, Helen. Are you insane? Whatever Joe wants!" He replies. Helen laughs and lets Joe and Jojo in. Joe is happy they are alone because he is starting to feel bad turning down kids for photos. Jojo placed his 3D glasses on and sat back, watching the show go on. In the end, he couldn't stop smiling.

"Dad, when I grow up, I want to study dinosaurs! Unless you want me to play football."

"Jojo, you can be anything you want to be. If you want to be a Paleontologist, go for it. Your mom, sister, and I would be proud of you either way." Joe says, picking him up and placing him in the car. Jojo looks down at his new T-Rex plushie and frowns.

"My sister?"

"Yes. You know mommy is pregnant and carrying your little sister in her belly right. I know you've been upset about it but it will be fun to be a big brother."

"You're not a big brother; how would you know?" Jojo rolls his eyes.

"You're right, but I'm a little brother, and having a sibling is the best thing in the world. You remember in the film how the older triceratops protected his little sister?"

"Yes. That's what I will do too. I'll protect sissy!" Jojo smiles.

"You will. And me and Mommy will protect both of you."

"unless one of us is the weaker one, then Mommy will abandon us." Jojo mumbles. Joe laughs. Maybe he shouldn't use dinosaurs to explain family. When they arrive home, Joe takes Jojo to the backyard, where everyone jumps out shouting surprise. The backyard has been transformed into a Jurassic theme. Jojo squeals and jumps with excitement. He runs around, saying hello to everyone and then to the huge dino figure near the pool. Finally, he makes his way to you.

"Mommy, I can't wait for sissy to come! I'll be the best big brother."

"Aww, my baby." You bend down to hug him feeling your little girl kick. Jojo runs around with his cousin and friends, playing. When it's time to open gifts, you shake your head at the amount Joe got Jojo. After cleaning up, and when the guest leaves, you take a much-needed bath. You find your favorite boys in bed waiting for you. Jojo lies in the middle, smiling. You and Joe got pregnant fresh out of college. At 21, you had no idea what the future would hold, but you made the decision to be a stay-at-home mom and support Joe's career. It was the best decision you've ever made. 5 years later, you are still madly in love and expecting child number two. Joe kisses your head and then Jojo's head. Jojo kisses your belly and turns on Jurassic Park 2.

#joe burrow x you #joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow fic #joe burrow x reader #joe burr #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow fluff #joe burrow blurb

[railingsofsorrow]

hi maybe do a klaus mikaelson x daughter!reader angst. reader and hope are the same age older pls!! maybe that reader! and hope get into a fight physically and use their powers against each other and maybe the reader or hope gets hurt. and we get blamed at and screaming and maybe daggered by our father. by our cruel actions against each-other . but our uncles and aunts prevent it from happening. ^idk im bad at storyline plot XD. reader daughter is a witch you decide :p

Always and Forever

A/N: hope is a bit of a dick in the beginning, just a heads up.

A/N²: thank you for this request I loved writing it! sorry for taking so long to post it, university is burying me alive.

summary: you and hope have a quarrel. there's spilled blood and a few apologies.

pairing: none.

w.c: 3K

warnings/content: mentions of a major character death; lucien castle (I fucking hate him so it's a warning); mention of minor characters death; siblings arguments; description of violence; blood; injuries; gore; lots of angst; happy ending.

navi

masterpost

[requested]

.ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙.ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙.ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙

“I am so done with you, Hope.”

The storm your feet were causing against the wood of the compound reached your family's sensitive ears quickly.

“Oh, you're done with me?” Your sister followed your harsh steps, earning a glare from you that you didn't need to look back at her for her to see it. “Is there anything else you'd like to tell me? Like how stupid I am for making a decision? Isn't that what you always say anyway?”

“And you still don't listen!”

Rebekah was the first one to protest from the living room where a bunch of compelled men were being ordered around to redecorate the place.

“Girls, pitch it down. I'm trying to do some redecorating here,” her unhelpful jab was promptly ignored as you yanked the door open, the sound echoing through the room. “Hey!” Rebekah stared at your angry breeze in indignation. “Do not ignore me—”

“Come back. We're not done talking.”

Then, just as you were in the middle of the street, you went back inside the compound. Or rather, pulled back by an invisible force.

Did Hope just used her magic on you? Did she just—

“Say it. Say what you think. What you have always thought about me. Go ahead.”

“Hope.” Warned Elijah.

Your eyes narrowed into slits as your fists clenched, “Do not manhandle me with your stupid magic, Hope—”

“What on Earth is going on here?” Kol peaked below from the bannister. He could hear the screaming from ten miles away and he was trying to take a nap for goodness sake. “I thought we didn't have children in this family anymore? You know,” he starts to descend the stairs slowly. “It was the best day of my entire life when you both quit the shrieking phase—”

“Then don't turn your back on me when I'm speaking.” Hope said, completely ignoring Kol's irrelevant input in your argument.

“You sound just like Dad. Maybe that's why you bond so well. The reckless and the paranoid.”

Hope scoffed.

“Is that jealousy I hear? What, the second child couldn't accept the scrapes of left-over love?”

Finn arrived in the living room just as your whole demeanor switched from angry to numb in less than a second. The workers had vanished, Rebekah's doing because she read the situation previous to the outburst.

And she did not want an outburst. Less alone from you, a witch-in-learning since your powers had gotten out of hand due to the Mikaelson's last inconvenience — Lucian Castle.

He had done a number on you. The magic that used to run free and controlled through your fingers now felt like electric currents burning inside your veins. Not in a good way. Long story short, your abilities were in time-out. Until your emotions take over and you lose control.

Which was what was happening in that moment.

“Hope,” Rebekah walked towards your pair carefully as Kol and Finn watched from afar. “That's enough. Why don't you take a walk—”

“Why do you never stay on my side?” Hope snapped at her aunt, finally breaking your stare.

Rebekah let out a sigh, “I'm not taking any sides here. You both have got to take a minute and discuss this later.”

You could feel the slight twitch on the tip of your fingers.

“Do you remember how many people I've lost because of her, Aunt Beks?” You asked, the corner of your lips raising. Hope gave you a roll of eyes. “Some by choice, because I chose her above anyone else. Blood is thicker than water, right? Then, some because they were collateral damage. Why? Because the fucking world revolves around Hope Mikaelson?”

Hope's expression morphs into annoyance, “It was not my fault they died!”

“Of course, not. Who would've thought there would be consequences for your actions, Hope?”

“You're unbeleavible. You told me it wasn't my fault. You!”

“Well, I lied!” You marveled, taking a step foward as anger seeped within your body. “I lied when I said that it wasn't your fault. I lied when I covered for you all of those times. In fact, I lied when I said I'd always be on your side. I'm so done with your selfishness, Hope. Because although you're my sister, you've hurt me more than any other being has hurt me!”

A warm hand attempt to tug you a few steps back. You barely acknowledge it.

“I never asked you to do anything, you've made your own choices. Don't come blame me for it. If the people you care about were hurt, that's on you. Not me.”

“Enough.”

Your father's voice caused the both of you to freeze in your spot. Hope shoulders sagged as she let out a huff.

“She started it. I'm just telling the truth.”

“Shut up, Hope,” you exclaimed in exasperation. Your patience wearing thin. Everyone could feel your powers praying to be unleashed.

“I said enough!” Klaus's tone might have been final but your argument was far from the end.

Elijah said your name when he noticed the your eyes darkening lightly.

“You know what?” Hope took a few steps towards you. She, too, could feel your magic and a little sly smile grew in the corner of her lips. “If it weren't for you, mom might still be here,” even though she whispered, every vampire heard the affirmation and tensed.

They should've acted sooner. But now it had gone too far.

Just as she had moved you like a marionette previously, you raised your hand and threw her body next to the closest wall. The force created a ruptured in the outline of your sister, who let out a groan.

Your name was called in warning. You couldn't hear if it was your Dad or one of your uncles. You knew it wasn't Rebekah because she was already helping her dear niece out of the mess you made.

Too late.

“Say it again.”

Before she could use her own magic, you used your vampire speed to push Rebekah away and grab your older sister by the neck.

“Go on, Hope,” you shoved her in the adjacent wall. Why did no one was trying to stop you? Well. They were busy being held thrown in different areas of the house by your out-of-control stupor. “Tell me how I'm to blame for her death. Tell me how I have scrapes of our family's love. You got it all first, didn't you? I arrived to take it away? Is that what you thought? Is that what I am? A leftover?”

Hope's groans of pain didn't phaze your unstoppable strength, nor did her beaten-up face or her bleeding nose. You smirked upon seeing the glint of annoyance in her bright blue eyes. The color shifting towards yellow slightly. You were practically taunting her wolf.

“A leftover daughter, right, Dad?” the jab directed at your father wasn't unnoticed. “I'm sure he'd agree with you on that, sis.”

“Bitch.” Hope let out a sneer and kicked you on the stomach.

“For fuck's sake!” Kol used his vampire speed to push Hope out of your reach as Finn grabbed you by the shoulders. “That's enough. Both of you, stop.”

Ripping out a piece of a chair, you grabbed the pointed wood and stuck in his heart. His shocked expression didn't brought guilt to your chest, not when anger was still the bigger emotion gripping you wholly. You created an invisible barrier to keep anyone but Hope away. And when your sister is about to sink her hybrid teeth into your arm, you lift her from the ground with your powers.

You drowned out all the protests and focused on squeezing her neck with your mind.

“I'm so sick of you.” She struggled to breath. “I'm sick of being left out. I'm sick of being on the receiving end of your problems. I wish you weren't my sister!”

It was all too fast. Hope's body was released and she fell to the floor like a ragdoll. You walked slowly towards her. She wasn't completely weak, just recovering from being cut out of breath for a few minutes. At any moment, she could surprise you with the little souvenir of a deadly warewolf bite, one you didn't have the cure of because your warewolf gene was never activated.

You weren't scared of her. No. You didn't feel anything. Just frustration. All anger anger anger anger.

As your hand sinked into her chest and she screamed out in agony, satisfaction slipped through your fingers. Your sister's blood in your hands may have been the prettiest art you had seen till today.

Then, a gasp echoed throughout the room.

You blinked in surprise as you felt a cold, thin metal etched into your back. The stinging of the blade made you let go of your sister's heart and stumble back. Your vision blurring slightly.

“Shh, shh, it's okay,” your dad's arms were the ones you fell into as you moaned in pain. “You'll be fine.”

“What are you doing?!” Rebekah exclaimed. “Pull the dagger out, Nik. Now!”

“This is your daughter, Niklaus!” Finn took her side as he helped Kol to his feet. He had been the one to take out the stake out of his chest.

Hope stared at your unconscious body as her own healed. It was turning gray little by little, the blood from her chest painted in both of your hands. The lifeless expression should've brought her relief. It did for a glimpse of second. Then the guilt arrived like a bucket of cold water.

She didn't particularly like you at that moment. She wanted you dead, quiet, unmoving. But the images of your daggered family through decades flashed in her mind. Their unfamiliarity with reality. Their numbness with life all together.

Hope didn't want that for you. You were her sister. Even if you tried to kill each other occasionally, even if she hates you some times.

It was her fault.

“Dad,” she croaked out, “Dad, pull it out,” her tone had an edge of desperation, the situation sinking in.

Has it gotten that bad that their father thought this would be the only solution? “Dad.”

“We have to find a way to control her.” He said calmly, caressing a few strands out of your bloodied face.

“You're not protecting her like this, Niklaus. You know this isn't what this is.” Elijah attempted to step closer. “We can handle the matter,”

“Don't say that.” Kol gazed up at him with bitterness. “Don't call my niece a matter because you can't admit the truth.” He didn't care that you had just literally stabbed him through his chest. You weren't aware of your surroundings, of what you were doing. He knew how that feels like. Not being in control was an all-too-familiar place he had been before. “We can help her without inflicting pain. She's struggling. She was tortured, Nik. The girl is traumatized. Do you think it will help if you keep her away for— what, how long this time? Three, seven years? She's your daughter. Snap out of it.”

“She'll regret you for the rest of her life if you do this.” Rebekah let out. Everyone turned to her. “I almost did.”

Klaus's eyes flickered to your peaceful demeanor for a moment, hand pressed against your cheek softly. He looked up at Hope, her desperate matching blue irises silently begging him.

A leftover daughter, right, Dad? Had he made you feel like that? He couldn't tell. Ever since Hayley died, he crawled into a wheel of uncertainty. He was buried underneath the earth of mistakes and enemies he had acquired. His own mind being the mastermind of it all.

One thing he was sure, the two of you were always and would always be equal in his heart. He'd have to make sure that you understood that. The last thing he could do as he lived was fail you.

Hayley would be so disappointed.

Just like Kol requested him to, he snapped out of it. The fear of facing your uncontrolled abilities materialised in the image of numbness in your eyes. He couldn't lose you. And he wouldn't. But his brother was right, inserting a dagger in your heart wouldn't make the situation better.

He had to learn from his mistakes at some point.

Your gasp as you returned to reality sent guilt right into his chest. Hope cradled your body in an embrace, mumbling I'm sorry's repeatedly. Everybody watched in expectation of your reaction. The furrow in your eyebrows as you studied your surroundings were a small indication that you were coming back.

Blinking slowly, you looked down at your sister with widened eyes, “Did I hurt you?” the question slipped as you noticed the blood in her clothes and the hole in her blouse.

Hope's tear-stricken expression switched to an amused one, “What do you think?” then, she started crying again. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say those things, I—”

The pang in your head made you wince slightly. The memories coming back.

You squeezed her arm, shaking your head, “It's fine. I don't know why I lost it. I'm sorry.” a frown etched into your forehead. “I didn't mean it, Hope.”

Meeting your eyes, she knew what you were talking about, “No, I am. I shouldn't have pushed you. You were right. I'm reckless and irresponsible and paranoid and I never put your first. I'm sorry. I love you, I'll try, okay? I never meant to hurt you.”

You sighed, a sad smile pulling at your lips, “Yeah, okay. I love you too.”

She hugged you again and a grimace twitched your face, “Uh, you've got blood all over you, can you...”

“And whose fault is that? That was my favourite blouse!”

“That was not your favourite blouse. Your favourite is a red one with a sweetheart neckline—”

“And they're back.” Kol rolled his eyes fondly, leaving to go back to his room. He needed to get you form his bloody clothes, thanks to you.

“Should we stay?” Finn queried Elijah, watching you bicker over a blouse. Elijah smiled faintly.

“No. It's all dealt with.” His eyes caught his half brother's across the room before he and Finn left. Get rid of the dagger or I'll get rid of you. He knew Klaus could read his mind — not literally — as no one else were able to do. He hoped he would at least listen to this advice.

Or else.

“Did you dagger me?”

He blinked caught of guard by your sudden appearance in front of him. Face emotionless.

Hope and Rebekah had left as well. Probably understanding that you need to talk privately.

“I did.” He said, eyes softening. “Sweetheart, I—” he was cut off by your arms wrapping around him in an awkward movement.

You weren't the closest pair of father and daughter out there. You've had your disagreements, there was a lot in which the both of you were different. Hayley was the one that you clinged to. Ever since you were a child. He knew you missed her warmth, her words, her. One could never move on fully after losing a mother. It's heart-wrecking. If he had any say on it, he would've never let Hayley go. He'd surrender in a heartbeat.

“Thanks for bringing me back, Dad.”

Klaus let out a shaky breath, caressing the back of your neck. And still, with Hayley gone, there was so much of you that brought her back constantly. Your eyes. Your compassion, mostly. “Do not thank me. I shouldn't have done that. It was wrong. Once again I have let myself be taken my selfish reasons. Sweetheart,” he cupped your cheeks, and you looked up at him. “I'm sorry.” That was the sentence Klaus found more difficult in saying out loud. This turned on his back quickly when you and Hope were born. It wasn't a matter of ego, anymore. It was about not hurting you the way he had been hurt by the people that gave him life. He'd rather die than disapoint his daughters. “If you need time away, I understand. That was wrong—”

“Will you let me speak or I'm supposed to stay quiet the whole time?”

Klaus snapped his mouth shut.

You smiled, “Alright. Yes, that was wrong and selfish. But so was I. I was out of me, Dad. Honestly, I don't know what would have happened if you hadn't done that. Hope, she— I can't even think—”

“Don't think. Nothing bad happened.”

“It might have!” You cried out. “I'm not okay. I don't know how to be okay. And I don't want to hurt anyone else in this process. What if the next time I snap it's you? Or uncle Elijah? Or anyone else?”

Klaus pressed a kiss against your forehead and brought you closer again, your shoulders slumped as you let you a sob. “I'm scared, Dad.”

“I know, I know.” He whispered, tightening his hold on you so you would calm down. “We'll get you help. You've been hurt, sweetheart. It's not going to be easy, it never is. But you'll get better. We'll be there.” He paused. “But first and foremost, don't ever think you are not loved by me. Or any of us. Is that clear? You come first. You always have and you always will. You and Hope.”

Hayley would've worded it out better.

You nodded weekly, averting his eyes.

“I'm going to make sure you don't feel like that anymore, alright?” He tipped your chin so you would meet his eyes. “You're not alone, honey,” the sniffles slipped from you against your will and soon the tears arrived. He dried one by one to then cradle your head against his chest.

Letting out a shaky breath, you buried your face deep into his shoulder. You were tired, but your family could give you strength. Even your mother — especially your mother — who might not be present but she was still there. You could feel it.

Your father smiled down at your bloodshot features, bopping your nose which made you crack a laugh. “Always and forever,” he whispered.

A promise.

“Always and forever,” you mumbled back, smiling in response.

#reader insert #the originals fanfiction #the originals fic #requested #mikaelsons x reader #the originals imagine

[live-laugh-lenney]

Thinking about george as a husband now 😭😭

For some reason in my head when it gets to the time where they’re considering having a baby, george is the one who brings it up and wants it first, he’s the one dropping hints and talking about it while his wife is just living her life 😭😭

this turned into some angst... unsure why but enjoy!

"i found a new desk for you."

"i don't need a desk?" george questions, looking over his shoulder to see his wife leaning up against the doorframe to their spare room, his editing for a new youtube channel video going forgotten about on his laptop once her voice broke the silence he was sitting in, "i have one right here."

"i thought we could redecorate in here," she suggests, arms folded over her chest and her eyes wandering from where he was sat in his revolving chair to the empty space around him. the bare walls white and bright once the sunlight filtered through the window, the carpet still looking brand-new and untouched, not a single piece of furniture to give it an office-feel. "it's quite boring for you, no?"

"i figured we could use this room for something else," he admits softly and he pushes his feet into the carpet to push himself out from under his desk, turning in the seat to face her properly, "two bedrooms and all. one for us, one for... i don't know, one for a baby, maybe."

"a baby?"

he nods shyly and she stares at him, eyes wide and her mouth gaped open, her mind going blank for a response to his admission.

they'd only been married for less than six months and they'd only just moved into a brand new building; where they'd lived in her flat for the majority of their engagement, they wanted something completely brand-new. something that had both of their names on the lease and had both of their names on the bills.

"babe, did you-"

"i heard you," she interrupts him and he gulps back the thick lump that was forming in his throat, "george, i-"

"you're not ready, i know. i'm just saying," he stands from his chair and walks over to stand in front of her, "in the future, i mean. when it does happen, and we do end up having a baby, it's a good idea to just be prepared."

"but, i don't know right now," she sighs heavily, "of course, i want to have babies with you. have mini clarke's running around. but we're still young, george. we've got the rest of our twenties to think about having a family."

"i know," he smiles softly, bringing his hands to cup her face in his palms, "i'm just telling you i'm ready. i'm waiting. whenever you want a baby, i'm game."

"okay," she nods, tilting her head into the touch of his left hand, his thumb brushing soft strokes across her cheek, "but we can't leave the room with just a desk and a chair in here, george. we should, at least, add a some new furniture or something. it still feels brand new and we've been here for three months already."

"show me this desk then," he snickers softly.

and that's that for the conversation.

and george didn't want to dwell on the topic anymore knowing what he feelings were towards the next step of their relationship. he was willing to wait until she was ready, willing to talk about their options if she wasn't, willing to stand by her side as she figures her own life out as well as the life they were building together.

but sometimes, all he wants to do is talk about his future.

with the wife of his dreams, someone he loves and someone who can understand him in ways others can't, he was the happiest man in the world. the smile on his face looked like it could split him in two when he realised he got to go home to her at the end of the day. knowing he gets to hold her whenever he wants to give her a hug and to kiss her whenever he wanted a cheeky kiss in passing. making dinner for her when she's had a long day and starting his day with a breakfast made by her. getting to see her walk through the door in the evenings and getting to hear her drop her keys into the bowl on the side table once she arrived back from work. getting to cuddle on the sofa as re-runs of their favourite shows play on the television.

it was the life he had envisioned.

but deep down, of course, he wanted a baby.

-

"so, george," max starts off, watching as his useless hotline co-host took a sip of his drink from the mug in his hand, "we're nearing a year since the wedding. how on earth has it gone that fast?"

"i don't remember you at the end of the altar in the wedding dress," george retorts with a hint of sarcasm dripping from his mouth and he snickers softly at the swift middle finger thrown in his direction from the blonde-haired boy opposite, "but yes. it's been nine months. gone too fast, honestly. i'd do anything to go back to that day."

"it was a gorgeous ceremony," max says, resting his elbows on the desk beneath him and resting his chin on his hands, "i doubt you had anything to do with that."

george snorts and shakes his head in his direction.

"i did, thank you very much," he insists, "i helped choose our venue. i chose the colour scheme and i chose what flowers we had for each person in our wedding parties. with some guided assistance by yn but she let me choose the final part."

and it was true.

yn was impressed at how he had taken an interest in everything they needed to plan for their wedding day; everything except the wedding dress which she refused to let him know anything about. a stickler for the superstitions that came with getting married and he was more than okay with that. she loved how involved he had been, how much he listened and how he had everything planned out in his head... she was, at least, excepting herself to do a lot of the organising but felt a huge weight lifted off her shoulders when he offered his own ideas to help ease her mind.

it was their day and he wanted it to feel like it.

"is there any talk of babies yet? we can only hope that there are mini-yn's running around instead of mini-george's," max cackles and all george can muster is a roll of his eyes, "is that a roll of the eyes at the question or at me?"

"at you," george says with no hesitation, a smirk on his lips, "we've touched on the subject briefly. yn just wants to enjoy being young and free, enjoy us as a married couple, enjoy our twenties before we get tied down with babies and the responsibility of raising someone in this world."

"but what about you?"

"what about me?"

"you said yn wants to enjoy life right now but what about you?" max asks and george feels his cheeks heat up, telling himself to blame it on the lights and the heat of the room if anyone picked up on the matter, "i'm surprised you didn't knock her up on your honeymoon."

"i mean," george shrugs and sits back in his chair, bringing the mic with him as he moved further from the tabletop, "we did a lot of practicing on the honeymoon, anywhere and any chance we had, if you get my drift," he laughs loudly and max pulls a face of disgust, "no, i'd love kids. i'd love a baby, of course i would. a little bit me and a little bit of yn mixed into one human being. it's a dream."

"but?"

"but nothing," george insists, "like i said, we're just finding our feet in the world of marriage, it's only been nine months, so we want to take time in creating a family."

"uh-huh," max nods slowly, dropping the subject there and then to save any awkward conversations later on, "practicing is just as fun as the real thing, anyway. once you have a baby, it all stops."

"like you'd know," george retorts and max covers his heart with his hand, "anyway..."

-

the tension in their flat was thick enough to suffocate them.

when he'd come home from a chrismd video shoot down at the local 3g football pitch, for a football video that would go out on his channel in the near future, he was met with the silent treatment from his wife. confused and unsure of what he'd done, he tried to coax it out of her but to no avail... until she burst on him when she couldn't contain her emotions for much longer.

"you just need to talk about it, don't you?"

"talk about what?"

"you just can't drop the fact that i don't want a baby right now, can you?" her voice is thick with anger, her cheeks bright red and her eyes were dark and he honestly wanted the ground to swallow him whole so he didn't have to look at her. "what don't you understand about my feelings, george?"

"i understand you clearly," he responds only to receive a scoff back in his face and it was evident to him that she'd listened to the newest podcast episode that was scheduled for release that day, "what?"

"i told you how i felt, three months ago, george. i told you i wanted to wait to have kids, i told you we had the rest of our twenties to figure everything out, i told you i wanted to live my life without any heavy responsibilities," and he noticed that when she was angry, she used her hands to accentuate her words, his eyes focusing on the way her fingers scrunched up and how she pointed her pointer finger at him everytime she referred to him, "but you speak about it on the podcast and think i'd be okay with that?"

his gulps are thick as he tries to find the right words to say... although he knew, in that moment, anything he said was going to be ignored.

"i'm not okay with that," she grumbles heavily, shaking her head at him and he felt a pain in his chest like a knife had pierced through his ribs, "it's private information, george. our private life. we spoke about this."

"max asked me-"

"you could have ignored the question, told him you wanted to keep that to yourself," the tea-towel in her hand got thrown on the island in the middle of their kitchen area after she'd finished drying off her wet hands and her feet padded across the floor of their open-plan front room, in the direction of the dining table where she'd laid out plates and cutlery for their dinner, "why are you making me out to be a bad person?"

"i'm not-"

"you are!"

"please don't shout at me when i have no idea what's going on," he tells her and he can see her pause for a moment before continuing to clear up the dinner table, "what are you doing? dinner's done soon."

"i'm eating in the bedroom," she mumbles lowly, "i don't want to sit at the table and look at you right now. i'm angry with you."

"okay," he admits defeat, his words full of remorse and upset, and as toes off the trainers on his feet, he swears he can hear her mutter something beneath her breath but he couldn't bear to bring himself to ask what, "call me when dinners done. i've got some work to do so i'll be in the office most of tonight."

she hums in response and he bends over to pick his trainers up from the floor, walking into the entryway of their home and setting them down on floor beside her work shoes, and it kills him to walk away from her when all he wants is to work things out and argue until both of them are blue in the face. he can hear the gentle intakes of breath as she tries to calm herself down and he takes one last glance at her, as she rounds the island and steps back in front of the oven, and he can feel his stomach aching from the guilt that was building up.

he never meant to upset her.

he didn't think he said anything wrong... but it dawned on him how it may have sounded to her. how his words came out with the intention of answering the question as bluntly as possible without giving away their own private talks and could have been taken the wrong way by yn and how she felt targeted with the topic.

but for now, as much as he wanted to apologise, they needed a bit of time apart for the night

-

he's deep in thought when he hears a knock on the door.

his eyes were stinging from the bright light of the laptop screen that sat open before him and his hand was cramping from the way he was holding his pen tight in his hand, his notebook full of scribbles about upcoming video ideas he could do for his channel and who he wanted as a guest on each one, the silence being so comforting that he was knocked out of his distant look once the sound had disrupted him.

"george?"

he looks over his shoulder and sees yn standing in the doorway. one of his t-shirts hanging down her figure, a pair of tube socks on her feet to keep her toes warm, and a knitted blanket tucked around her shoulders and dragging across the floor behind her. in the bright light of the screen illuminating the room, he can see her wet cheeks and he feels his heart break.

"i'm sorry," he whispers softly and she shakes her head, "no, baby. i am. i should have just dropped the subject when you told me how you felt."

"no, i shouldn't have overreacted earlier."

he turns in his chair and sets his pen down on his notebook, giving his thighs a pat as an invitation for her to come and sit down with him, smiling warmly when she accepted his offer and walked towards him. enveloping her in a tight hug and adjusting himself in his seat as she wraps her arms around his shoulders and curls up on his lap.

"you have feelings, just as much as me," she admits, bringing a hand up to tickle her fingers across his cheeks, "you understood how i felt so i need to understand how you feel."

"but it's a big life decision and i should respect your feelings more," he says and she frowns, "besides, i'm not the one who has to go through all the changes with a pregnancy. i won't be one to develop a bump, i won't go through the emotional changes, i won't have to actually give birth to the baby and deal with the pain. that's all you."

there's a comfortable silence that lingers in the air and she sighs just to break it.

"i know how badly you want a baby," yn admits, "and i do want babies with you, george. not just one but four. there's nothing i want more. but, right now, we have so much of our life to live together. lots we can do before we have a little one running around, so many places to go and see. don't take me not wanting a baby right now as me not wanting babies at all. i want a baby george running around."

"i know," he presses a kiss to her forehead and lets his lips linger on her skin, "i want to enjoy us a little more, too."

"i'm sorry for my outburst," she hides her face in the crook of his neck and he shakes his head softly, "i was just... scared, i guess."

"i'm not going anywhere, little rascal," he murmurs into her hair, "you are stuck with me, i'm afraid."

"there's scarier people in the world to be stuck with," she jokes and looks up at him, his mouth dropping open, "i'm kidding." xx

#george clarkey #george clarkey imagines #george clarkley blurbs #george clarkey fics #george clarkey headcannons #george clarke #george clarke imagines #george clarke blurbs #george clarke fics #george clarke headcannons

[running-with-the-feels]

More headcanosn 🌝 perchance

Kuai Liang actually prefers hot chocolate to tea, because his mother used to make it for them all the time, though if that's not an option he'll usually go for a cinnamon tea, his mother's favorite.

Hanzo has no tea preference anymore, as he used to prefer it the way Harumi made it, but now can't stomach any tea bc it isn't hers. He tends to just stick to water, though Kuai Liang is trying to get him to try hot chocolate at least once.

Hanzo is a cuddler, whenever they are in bed together, without fail, Hanzo will end up wrapped around Kuai Liang like an octopus. Any attempts Kuai Liang makes to escape are futile (though secretly he doesn't try very hard, he thinks its nice to be held so tightly)

There are some rooms in the Lin Kuei temple that Kuai Liang can't go in without flinching, bc of what they were used for before he tok over, so Hanzo ended up enlisting Frost's help (bc she never left the Lin Kuei I refuse to acknowledge that part of canon, it's dumb and I hate it) in cleaning them out and redecorating them to be unrecognizable, which helped greatly.

Hanzo still has nightmares about the Netherrealm and Kuai Liang's ice is one of the few things that can pull him out of it as the cold is a reminder that he's not there anymore. Sometimes, when Kuai Liang is busy on a mission, Hanzo will just teleport to Arctika and sit outside in the snow until he calms down, it's not as good, but it's better than nothing.

After learning about what happened to Kuai Liang's family, Hanzo constructed a couple of graves for them on Shirai Ryu land so that Kuai Liang could have somewhere to mourn them. Kuai Liang had not wanted to bury his parents and sister on Lin Kuei grounds (though he didn't have their bodies even if he did) as the Lin Kuei were the ones to kill them (Except for his father, who was killed by a Shirai Ryu)

Hanzo eventually found Kuai Liang's childhood home and his mother's bakery, still standing and completely untouched. Their neighbors had refused to let anyone buy or enter it as a memorial to the family. The first time Kuai Liang sets foot in his childhood bedroom again, he cries.

Kuai Liang also still has nightmares about being a cyborg, and it takes hours to pull him back from them, usually requiring Hanzo to talk to him and have a lot of skin-to-skin contact to remind Kuai Liang that he's not made of metal anymore. After that, Kuai Liang tends to stay in bed for the rest of the day, so Frost and Hanzo usually take over training and running the clan until he's well again.

lemme know if y'all want any more, or if you want any of my headcanons for other charcters/relationships

#kuai liang #hanzo hasashi #subscorp #mortal kombat #mortal kombat x #mortal kombat 11

[miracles-and-butterflies]

How did the centre Mirabel react once she realised how much of pigment she had lost?

Mirabel swore she was dreaming when she passed by the mirror. They had only been in the new house for a handful of hours and she was still getting use to the modern layout. If she hadn’t walked into the bathroom, needing to clean her hands from some of Isabela’s pollen, she would have assumed it was some creepy portrait hanging on the wall. A painting of a ghost or something if she were to guess, from the pale and almost lifeless-looking figure staring back at her.

But, said portrait moved with her. Eyes widening and blinking as it shifted back from the sink, watery coloured liquid cascading between white fingers. As she breathed heavily, her reflection did too.

What the actual hell?

She knew that she lost pigment in her hands. She remembers them slowly losing their colour and warmth, disappearing in odd splotches. The room in the centre was quite dark so she was never fully aware of the extent - it would have helped if she had a mirror and her vision (at a distance) wasn’t so blurry - but she knew it was more than just her hands. She never realised it was quite this bad though. She can barely recognise herself. Her hair looks like it has been completely bleached. God, even her eyebrows and lashes… there’s a few spots of her actual skin colour still visible across her body, if that is any mercy.

The eyes are what threw her the most - they weren’t even the same. She had never heard of eyes being two different colours before. One eye, her left (the mirror’s right), was the same amber eyes of a doe that have been in her head since she was born. The other eye wasn’t remotely brown at all. No colour at all. There was more colour in the pollen coming off her hands than her whole body.

This couldn’t be real… this had to be a dream. Of course it was. Any second now she would wake up back in the centre from whatever torture she was being subjected to that day. Why would she ever think any of this could be real? Why would she ever get a gift? Why would they make it out of the centre in one piece? Why would things ever be good for them?!

That’s when Isabela sauntered in, completely covered in pollen and not being careful with what she was staining as she pushed the door open.

“Yeah, so, apparently Dolores was right and the adults are in fact not happy to have me redecorate the sitting room,” Isabela was saying, chuckling to herself. “Which is their loss. I think I improved the living room; plants give us oxygen to live, so it makes sense… you okay, sis? I don’t think you’ve blinked since I walked in?”

“This isn’t real,” Mirabel mumbled.

“What isn’t?”

“This… you… I’m not here…”

“You definitely are.” To prove the point, Isabela leaned over and lightly pinched her arm. Mirabel felt her knees give it out as she winced in pain. It wasn’t that sore; it was just what it meant. “Um… you okay?”

Mirabel didn’t answer. She couldn’t bring herself to get a word out. She just sobbed, staring at herself in horror. Her hands, her arms, her legs, the ends of her hair. She could almost make out the little holes of where the injections had been forced into her.

Isabela quickly washed the majority of the pollen off her arms and face, before crouching down on the floor beside Mirabel. Mirabel didn’t say anything and barely looked her way. She gently picked up her sister’s hands and dried them off with a towel, which finally made Mirabel look up at her.

“I’m sorry,” she says first. She doesn’t actually know what to say, but she knows she should say something. She knows she would want someone to talk to her if she was in Mirabel’s tiny shoes. “I know you might not feel like yourself, right now… or maybe ever. And you can change your hair or dress or name or whatever you want to make yourself feel better, and we’ll all support you with it because we’re your family. We’re not gonna leave you or throw you out or anything. Point is, you are still my little sister and I love you.”

Mirabel didn’t do anything for a moment, eventually she settled on throwing her arms around her sister and just crying into Isabela’s shoulder.

Isabela returned the hug, petting her hair gently. She wouldn’t usually, but just in case, Mirabel was worried that people would be freaked out and uncomfortable with the change of skin and hair. It was best just to prove she wasn’t.

“Besides,” she added, half-joking. “You aren’t getting out of dealing with my chaos that easy.”

#encanto #ask me anything #encanto centre au #my writing #mirabel madrigal #isabela madrigal

[missfrieden]

Tech as a father Chapter 40

Wow, 40 chapters posted now, thanks to all who read it and enjoy it. And also I got my hug in the last episode.

Masterlist

Chapter 40: Hair gel is now part of the gear it seems

As Tech returns with Orion, his smirk is barely concealed. He had made sure to return to the temple a little later than Amanda, hoping to avoid raising any suspicion. However, his brothers are quick to notice the dishevelled state of his hair, and they can't resist the opportunity to tease him.

Wrecker grins widely and nudges Echo. "Hey, Echo, look at Tech's hair. It's all messy. You think he was wrestling with some jungle creatures?" Echo chuckles and adds, "Yeah, or maybe he had a run-in with a particularly aggressive tree branch." Crosshair, with his usual dry humour chimes in, "I didn't know the forest had such strong hairstyling skills."

Tech, trying to maintain his composure, clears his throat and retorts, "Gentlemen, you have quite the imagination. I was simply enjoying some fresh air with Orion, that's all." Hunter, always the perceptive one, raises an eyebrow but decides not to press the matter. "Alright, Tech. Just remember we're on a mission here." Tech nods, a faint blush still on his cheeks. "Of course, Hunter. Always focused on the mission." He holds Orion a little closer, hoping to divert their attention from his moment with Amanda.

Wrecker, always one to seize an opportunity for fun, leans over and tries to ruffle Tech's hair back into position, but it seems to be a lost cause. He grins widely, clearly enjoying the playful banter. "Tech, the fresh air managed to get you smirking too, huh?" Wrecker teases, undeterred by Tech's attempt to explain it away. Tech ducks away from Wrecker's playfully rough touch and replies, "Well, Wrecker, there was a strong gush of air... you know how unpredictable the elements can be."

Crosshair, with his usual sass, adds, "Yeah, Tech, was the air strong enough to mess up your always perfectly styled hair? I didn't feel a breeze strong enough for that." Tech smirks and retorts, "You'd be surprised, Crosshair. Sometimes nature can be quite unpredictable." He glances down at Orion, who seems more interested in the conversation than the state of his father's hair.

Echo chimes in with his characteristic dry humour, "So, Tech, did this mysterious gust of wind also rearrange the armour pieces on your knees? Quite the breeze, huh?" Tech sighs and decides to play along, "Yes, Echo, it seems the wind was so intense that it decided to redecorate my armour. Very unpredictable weather we have here." The squad shares a collective laugh, lightening the mood in their makeshift camp area around the Havoc Marauder.

As the banter continued, Tech's smirk didn't fade. He appreciated the light heartedness of his brothers, even if they were just teasing him about his earlier escapade with Amanda. Wrecker, with his usual boisterousness, chimed in, "Tech, next time you go for a walk, don't forget to take the hair gel with you, just in case the wind decides to have another go at your perfect styled hair." Tech chuckled, "Noted, Wrecker. I'll make sure to add 'emergency hair gel' to my field kit." Hunter, the ever-watchful leader, interjected, "Alright, enough fun, everyone. We have work to do. Tech, you're on surveillance duty tonight." Tech nodded in agreement. It was time to shift their focus back to their mission, but he couldn't help but think that sometimes, even in the midst of their dangerous missions and secret endeavours, or his secret ones, his brothers managed to bring a touch of warmth and camaraderie into their lives. And that was something he wouldn't trade for anything, to be able to have such a family is something he will always be grateful.

Chapter 41

Reblogs are very welcome and I am open for feedback, as english is not my first language, so maybe my sentences may be weird sometimes, or I write a word wrong even with google, or I use a wrong word for an item.

Tag: @spectacular-skywalker @aalizazareth @neyswxrld @clonethirstingisreal @sleepycreativewriter @moonwreckd

I know it is shorter, than usual. But when I wrote it, I found the idea funny. And no matter how long I mulled over it, there was no way I could make it longer or drg it. So here you go.

#the bad batch #tbb #tbb tech #tbb crosshair #clone force 99 #tbb echo #tbb hunter #tbb wrecker #bad batch tech #daddy tech #tech as a dad #tech as a father #the dad batch #the uncle batch #clones with babies #star wars clone wars #star wars #star wars the clone wars #star wars the bad batch #tech and orion #tech fanfic #tech fluff #tech fanfiction #tech x oc

[fallingintoyourlilaceyes]

Under the mistletoe (modern!Osferth x reader)

synopsis: Your friends are tired of watching you and Osferth dance around each other, so they push you to do something about all that tension.

warnings: fluff, afab reader

word count: 1.3k

taglist: @hopelesswritergall

(If you want to be tagged in the `kissing booth AU´, for a specific character/fandom or in general let me know in my asks, comments or DMs)

Dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

"Ugh why did we wait this long to redecorate?" You whine as you stretch to pull some tinsel of one of the busts in the waiting area of the tattoo and piercing studio. "It's the end of January. Whose idea was it to decorate this much in the first place anyway?" All four of your coworkers give you a look, their eyebrows all different levels of raised. Low laughter follows through the studio and you raise your hands in defeat. "You know we only waited so you would have to help." Sithric whispers in your ear teasingly as he pushes past you to get to a box that was already half filled. "Next time I have an idea like that keep me from it, please. I'm begging you." You reply with a smile. In truth you enjoyed these tasks almost as much as you did working in the studio. There was laughter and music at all times and the customers were great as well. Even if you joined much later than the others, who had helped Uthred build the studio basically from the ground up, they immediately welcomed you and took you into their little family. Bending down to pick up a full box to take it to storage, you feel a cough bubble up your lungs. Immediately Osferth is by your side to take the carton off your hands. "Here, let me take that from you." He says in that usual, kinda quiet and husky voice of his.

"Thank you." You rasp in return. As he actually takes the carton though your hands touch accidentally, making both your faces heat up and the box nearly fall as you look away from each other. Over the antics neither of you notice the other three men rolling their eyes and sharing a look that signified the start of their mission. Too long they had to watch Osferth and you dance around each other. They were tired of the shy glances and flushed faces and whining about how perfect the other was only to never act on the feelings that were harbored and cared for like a delicate flower.

Despite your complaints the five of you make quick progress. However, with the last full box disappearing, so do three out of five people in the studio. Even more suspicious is that the person you are left with, is Osferth. Not that you would complain about that, not considering the multiple times you had, it simply seems like just the thing your friends would do to nudge you two closer together. Oh and how right you were with that thought. The two of you look through all the rooms to find nothing out of the ordinary aside from your friends obvious missing. At least until you lean in the frame of the door leading outside. A cigarette in hand as you brainstorm what could have happened, when said doorframe gives the answer. Above your heads hangs one last decoration element. A fucking mistletoe. As if on command both Osferth's and your face heat up and you get physically unable to look at each other. "I... We don't have to do this if you don't want to..." He offers in a quiet, uncertain tone. "Yeah, I just wanted to say the same." You give an awkward giggle. "On the other hand it is a tradition, right?"

"And no one would want that kind of bad luck we would conjure by not doing it. I mean..." Osferth adds on.

"Yeah, no, that would definitely be unwanted." You shake your head enthusiastically.

There is a pause for a moment, where Osferth watches your lips wrap around the cigarette bud, to suck in the nicotine, closely. Just like your eyes rest on his to witness the borderline sinful way he tugs the lower lip between his teeth. Then as if on cue both of your eyes shoot up to lock in an intense gaze. A gaze that leaves no questions about what is about to happen. He has you under his spell by those blue eyes, that make you feel like you are about to drown in them. You barely dare to lean to the side to stump out your cigarette in the ashtray, in fear of breaking the moment.

"So..." The beginning of the sentence dies in your throat just as quickly as it began leaving it.

Neither of you has to say anything more either, as through it all you hadn't even realised, that the two of you had started moving closer subconsciously.

You take that last step that separates the two of you towards him and rest your hands on his shirt. The warmth of his skin gets transported even through the soft fabric of the ugly Christmas sweater to your fingertips, warming them nicely against the chilly wind blowing around you. Your eyelids flutter and only seconds before his lips finally brush against yours for the first time they close entirely. The kiss is much like you. A shy connection, that only lasts a second before being pulled away from. Yet it ignites a fire in you and so you give Osferth barely a second before you go in for a second kiss. One that is not so gentle and shy. Despite his surprise, his hands pull you closer by the waist while simultaneously pushing you up against the large glass window. Both of you grasp at each other to keep as close as possible. Drunk on the way your lips pressed against and devoured each other. Every oh so little feeling and missed chance to kiss ever since you first laid eyes on each other flows into the vehement and quite honestly desperate embrace. Unprompted Osferth opens his mouth a bit further, so you take the chance to let your tongue dart out, to lick over his lower lip and into it. Instantly it is met by his own tongue. The way it dances with yours and explores you like no one before, like he wanted to know and memorize every deepest part of you, makes a swarm of butterflies soar up and run riot. You pull each other impossibly close, there is no need for air between you or inside of your lungs. No world around you. No feeling of time. It is all replaced by the electric feeling of him. You are unsure if it is minutes or mere seconds until you get broken up by someone clearing their throat loudly behind you. For all you know it felt like hours. All the more dismayed is your expression when you turn around to see who has interrupted the two of you in the best moment of your life so far.

"At first it was cute, but can you seriously get a room? Some of us want to have a smoke without watching you basically eat each other." Finan commented dryly.

"You can hardly blame us. In the end this was your plan, wasn't it?" You shoot back in a half defensive half chuckling tone. "Yeah, yeah. Just blame us, it's alright. I just hope you know we'd do it again any day if it meant ending that horrible, horrible tension between you two love birds." Your friend answers with an unapologetic glimmer in his dark brown eyes. Behind you Osferth slips his hand inside yours to intertwine your fingers. The beat your heart skips at the touch reminds you of what you were doing just a minute ago, what you desperately wanted to get back to. You give his hand a short squeeze and then lead him towards one of the rooms in the back. "You know what? Remind me to thank y'all for it later, but now you'll have to excuse me. Osferth and I were kind of in the middle of something." You turn around to see where you are walking. The last sound you can hear from Finan is a low groan, as Sithric who seemingly just joined him asked what was happening. Then the door locks and you two are finally alone again. A fact that you use without hesitation, to crash your lips against each other in a hungry kiss once more. One thing was sure, it was definitely one of the first for many more to come.

#osferth #osferth x reader #osferth x you #osferth the last kingdom #osferth tlk #osferth fanfic #baby monk #the last kingdom #tlk #modern the last kingdom au #modern tlk au #the last kingdom fanfic #tlk fanfic

[mrsrookhunt]

I’ve been waiting for Ango 😈😈

Anyway, can you please do Ango (and any other bsd guy) with a s/o that’s REALLY and I mean REALLY tall, like 6’10.

If you don’t think that’s a good idea or it’s not interesting just disregard this. Have a good day/night! <3

Oh my god I came here to write the bsd men in bed but sOMEONE HAD TO GIVE ME NEW INSPIRATION AHAHAHAAHAH

Absolutely.

As a short bitch myself... I'm so happy to imagine being tall.

A Small Problem

Ango Sakaguchi X Reader

Ango, in his infinite wisdom, had fallen for you, his darling, his other half...

But that was only apparent to you and him. The near daily comments on your 1-whole-foot height difference made him more than insecure.

Ango had never considered himself tall nor short to begin with, being at a good, solid height of 5'10.

He was tall to most women, and average to most men. It was a good balance.

When he met you, it was online. You spoke, sometimes for hours, into the early morning after he finally got off of work. After three months of dating, he was certain, with one-hundred percent of his soul, that you were the one.

Within the next month, he'd emptied out his savings into buying a ring for you, a suitable house, and redecorating said home into a cozy place fit for both you and the possibility of a small family (or pets, let's be real).

Finally, in your sixth month of dating, you'd gotten the unexpected funds to fly and see him for the first time.

Overwhelmed with joy, Ango had absolutely no reservations about finally meeting you, overjoyed that he would finally get to put that ring and that house to use.

When he met you, he was dumbfounded, jaw slack with shock for just a moment. He couldn't believe you were so... tall.

For a moment, you worried that he found you unattractive, but those worries washed away as the most delighted, sweetest young lover's smile broke onto his face, like six months of pure love expressed in one fleeting moment.

His biggest worry at the time was, how was he supposed to be the big spoon?

He wasn't embarrassed to take you around town, showing you off to everyone he knew.

You never took him as someone into PDA, but he regularly rested his head on your shoulder.

While he may not have judged you for your height, others did. Many of his coworkers laughed with what he was certain was envy of his catch, but hurt him deeply nonetheless.

When you accepted his proposal, he was monumentously happy, putting himself through hell and back to arrange a wedding as soon as possible.

However, through all of this happiness, you saw that something dampened his spirits, just slightly, as well.

After discovering that he was treated poorly because of you, it nearly broke your heart. You knew you had to help him in some way, making a point to give him extra snuggles and kisses, knowing he wasn't quite ready to open up about it.

There were times when he did cry with you. He wasn't used to being made fun of, and even more than that, he felt powerless over the situation. He loved you more than the world itself, but he also couldn't leave his work, and who's to say his coworkers at another job would treat him any better?

You start making jokes about his coworker bullies as if he were a small child needing reassurance, likening them to small children who couldn't handle a man and his partner.

It makes Ango feel tremendously better to have you on his side, comforting him. There was a time when he wondered if you saw him the same way, as weak and small in comparison to yourself. But you? You treated him like an equal. And that's all that matters.

Keep joking with him, keep loving him, and you won't have a problem.

"I've got a small problem, my love."

"Oh? And what's that honey?"

"You." ♡♡♡

#ango x reader #bsd sakaguchi ango #ango sakaguchi #x reader #x character #character imagines #fanfictions #fanfic #bungou stray dogs #fanfiction #yandere #bsd s4

[luna-writes-stuff]

Day 13: Lover, Peter Maximoff

Song link

Fanfic, fem! reader

Fluff, mutual pining, 5 scenarios fic

Word count: 1897

Tw: Jim Carrey is awesome ty. Not proofread, written in two hours. Mutual pining. And they kiss.

Summary: Four times where Peter found himself having to restrain himself from kissing you. And the one time he finally acts on it.

“We could leave the Christmas lights up 'til January And this is our place, we make the rules.”

The first time he fought the urge, was when you were returning from your home. After weeks at your family house; you had been picked up by Scott for a ride back to the mansion. He had insisted on coming along; hell, you had been friends for a while. He loved to annoy you.

But it has been short since he had come to the realisation that he might love you a tab bit more than just friends. And ever since that thought, he found it difficult to think about anything else, let alone be with you in the same room without doing stupid things.

Scott had told him he’d prefer if Peter would’ve picked you up - he’d be quicker regardless. But Peter insisted on the car. He said he was tired, but in all truth, he wanted to treasure every moment with you. And he wanted you to treasure it as well. No two second run to the mansion.

A good two hour car ride would do.

“And there's a dazzling haze, a mysterious way about you dear Have I known you 20 seconds or 20 years?”

You had sat down in the car exhausted, quite ready to fall asleep. It had been late when Scott arrived, and you hadn’t gotten the time to go to sleep yet. Pyjamas and all, you found yourself in the backseat, Peter sat next to you.

You were staring out the window, your eyes slowly falling shut as you adjusted yourself in your seat. Your legs parted slightly, sinking in your seat.

You were too tired to even notice it, but the second your knee brushed Peter’s, a light feeling entered his stomach, and he had to stop himself from smiling at that exact moment.

“Can I go where you go? Can we always be this close forever and ever? And take me out, and take me home.”

He had offered his shoulder not long after that. And the feeling that had bugged him since that dreadful realisation weeks ago returned.

Your arms pressed against his, your knee still pressed against his, your gentle breathing in the crook of his neck.

Even if it was a simple goodnight kiss. That little press against your forehead, perhaps even the side of your head. It was all fairly innocent to him. But since that tiny urge, he felt it returning too often.

“You're my, my, my, my Lover.”

The second time was the Christmas celebration at the mansion, three days after you returned. New Year’s Eve had already been, but you and your friends decided to do something fun.

The day was spent on couches and pillows, watching old Christmas films and redecorating the halls. Everyone was in their ugly Christmas sweater, some which lit up, some which took ‘ugly’ to a whole new level.

Peter was sat on the couch, with you seated in front of him on the floor. Your back leaned against the bottom of the seat, Peter’s legs placed on either side of you.

“We could let our friends crash in the living room This is our place, we make the call.”

And then you looked up at him, silently asking for a handful of chips which he’d been chewing away continuously. He understood your gesture, he did.

But even from this - supposed - unflattering angle, you looked absolutely angelic to him. Your eyes filled with joy and hope, your hair filled with Christmas glitter and tassels that Jean dumped on you, your sweater lighting up the whole room. You were perfect.

And there was this adorable smile on your face. A smile that would keep replaying in his mind. And that was when he knew.

Instead of offering those chips, he should have leaned down as well.

“And I'm highly suspicious that everyone who sees you wants you I've loved you three summers now, honey, but I want 'em all.”

The third time was when you were preparing his little sister for a party. She had been excited to go, and asked for you specifically. You had agreed to do her hair and help her dress up.

But she had the attention span of, well; Peter. She sat quietly for a good five minutes before she began rambling and twisting with the ends of her hair. It wasn’t long after that when she started running around in her room.

For the first few seconds, you tried to run after her. But she was quick, and tiny. Before you knew it, she was downstairs, laughing a squealing in delight.

“Can I go where you go? Can we always be this close forever and ever? And take me out, and take me home Forever and ever.”

“She’s a minx,” you panted as you followed her downstairs, coming face to face with Peter, a huge smile on full display.

“Look how pretty she made me!” Lorna spoke proudly, twirling around in her dress. And then you started laughing too.

You looked like you had just ran a marathon, and Peter couldn’t have cared less. In that exact moment, he wished to simply run up to you and wrap you in his arms. Peppering your face in kisses until you were laughing so hard, you broke down crying in joy.

But he restrained himself, merely offering you a wink with a grin. That is the first you found yourself restraining as well.

“You're my, my, my, my Lover.”

The fourth time was during a simple dinner. At the mansion, you never held dinners in groups. You picked the food when you wanted to and simply sat down. But you and Peter always sat down together. Occasionally, others would join, but more often than not, the two of you would be alone. And late night dinners lead to good conversations. Conversations you wouldn’t be having otherwise.

“I would have never guessed?” Peter gasped in shock.

“Really?” You answered gleefully, your mouth still filled with spaghetti, though you held your hand in front of your mouth. “What’s not attractive about him?”

“I’m not saying I don’t get it,” The boy shook off. “I just didn’t think you’d have a childhood crush on Jim Carrey.”

“Who did you think, then?” You taunted, raising your eyebrows in humour.

“Me.” Peter deadpanned, not missing a beat. And then, another laugh tore from his throat.

“You’re hilarious.”

“Ladies and gentlemen, will you please stand? With every guitar string scar on my hand I take this magnetic force of a man to be my lover.”

“I mean, me and Jim Carrey are very much alike,”

“Don’t flatter yourself, Maximoff.” You snickered, rolling your eyes at him with a smile.

“He’s good looking, great hair, very charming, and-“ he halted for suspense, before standing up from his seat, spinning in dramatics before raising his eyebrows twice. “Extremely funny.”

“Don’t ruin Jim Carrey for me.” A warning.

“I’m just saying, I get it.”

“You are not like Jim Carrey.”

Peter looked at you with a challenging grin, walking closer to you. Leaning his elbow on the table, he looked you in the eyes, dead serious. Before pulling a funny face and starting his speech.

“You were good, kid, real good,” he mocked the Mask’s voice. “But as long as I’m around, you’ll always be second best. See?”

Furrowing your eyebrows, you shook your head in disgust. “Nope.”

“My heart's been borrowed and yours has been blue All's well that ends well to end up with you Swear to be overdramatic and true to my lover.”

“Don’t lie.”

“How long have you been practising that?” You wondered in between laughter, watching Peter sit down on the seat beside you.

“Didn’t have to. It’s a classic.” He returned, smirking in self accomplishment. In his mind, this was that moment. This was that exact moment he’d been waiting for.

You were happy, he was happy. And he was close. He could try. He could have grabbed your hand right there and then, gazing into your eyes for a short second, before slowly pulling you closer to him. His hands were itching - quite literally.

But he stood back up again, restraining himself once more. Never knowing that, if he tried, you would have let him.

“And you'll save all your dirtiest jokes for me And at every table, I'll save you a seat, Lover.”

That same night, you had stalked the mansion, something that seemed especially soothing to you. It felt safe, and the moonlight shone so beautifully through the window. It was quiet and dark, but it didn’t feel unpleasant. No lurking eyes or eerie feelings. It was safe.

You did this often. Usually before you’d go to bed. But now, it was 2AM and you were kept awake by that awful talk you had with Peter at dinner.

The worst part was that you enjoyed it. You enjoyed the moment, even the thought. But you hated the idea of what could have been. And you did not seem to be the only one.

“Can I go where you go? Can we always be this close forever and ever? And ah, take me out, and take me home Forever and ever.”

He knew you’d still be awake. He got out of his room specifically to catch you. He had been sitting on the uncomfortable bench for an hour and a half now. But when he finally heard you, he shot up, pretending to be walking as well.

You met him halfway, not even noticing his frame until you nearly bumped into him.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, your eyelids heavy, but your mind still very much awake. You couldn’t stand to be around him at the moment. It felt unnecessarily awkward. It didn’t need to be. It simply felt like it. You felt yourself shrink under his gaze.

“Hi,” He whispered. A moment of silence followed. And for the first time since the two of you met, it seemed uncomfortable. You both hated it. But neither of you was going to speak up. Not until you acutely became aware of the silence.

“I see the resemblance between you and Carrey,” you ultimately spoke, swallowing that nervous lump in your throat. “You look better though.”

“You're my, my, my, my Oh, you're my, my, my, my.”

And just like that, Peter simply broke.

Taking two long strides towards you, his left hand found your waist, while the other settled on your cheek. One final look was all he needed, before he finally leaned forward, capturing your lips in that long awaited moment.

Your hands found his arms, holding onto him gently as you let it wash all over you. Anxiety and panic left as if a fog was suddenly lifted. Uncertainty flew out, and before you knew it, you returned the kiss in equal fervour, the feeling too pleasant to let go this swiftly.

His lips were soft, but not unchapped. But perfectness be damned, you enjoyed every second of it. As you pulled away, you left your hand wrapped in his lips, smiling up at him with a relieved sigh.

“Three months and twelve days,” Peter uttered. “That’s how long I’ve been waiting for this.”

You squeezed his hands tightly, offering him silent reassurance.

“Don’t you ever wait that long again.”

“Darling, you're my, my, my, my Lover.”

#november writings 2022 #Peter Maximoff #QuickSilver #evan peters #peter maximoff x reader #quicksilver x reader

[thnxforknowingme]

Christmas Eves (1/21)

Summary: Blaine makes a quick trip to Ohio to see his parents over Christmas. He certainly doesn't expect to run into his ex-boyfriend Kurt, or to reexamine every aspect of his life, but this Christmas Eve is full of surprises.

Rating: Let's say T? G or T.

Notes: I desperately wanted to participate in the December Klaine Fanworks Challenge this year, but have had no time for writing. This weekend I had a dedicated writing session with some friends and managed to complete chapters for 9 of the prompt words, so I think I have the momentum to actually write the whole story. Will it be done by December 21st, or even by Christmas? Almost certainly not. My quasi-reasonable goal is to get it all written and posted by the new year. Anyway, enough of my rambling - I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 1: Plead

Blaine slept in on Christmas Eve, groggy from travel and still accustomed to Pacific time. He woke up with the winter sun streaming through the window of his former bedroom, long turned into a generic guest room since he moved West for college. His mother had a passion for redecorating, and the room currently had a nautical theme - everything in shades of blue or white, boat motifs abundant, and a sign above the closet door proclaiming that You cannot control the wind, you can only adjust your sail.

He glanced at his phone, the calendar widget reminding him it was Christmas Eve, forecasting Christmas tomorrow and his scheduled flight back to LAX on the 26th. It was a short, perfunctory trip home for the holiday.

There was a knock on the door. “Blaine, honey!” His mother called. “Are you up yet? I need to run out for a few things, I’d love if you came along!”

Blaine dropped his phone onto the bedspread and squeezed his eyes shut, little starbursts appearing behind his eyelids.

“Just a minute!” he replied, and then rolled out of bed.

.

“Oh, this is nice,” Pam said, pausing by a display of velvety bathrobes in the department store they were exiting the mall through. “But I’ve already gotten you something cozy.”

Blaine resisted the urge to squeeze the cup of to-go coffee in his hand. His mother’s quick errands had turned into a trip to the mall, which was complete chaos as desperate shoppers searched for last-minute gifts and bedraggled parents lined up for hours to get their kids’ photos with Santa. Blaine was already nursing a headache and his mother’s words set off his internal alarm bells. “Please tell me you didn’t get me pajamas,” he said.

“It’s a tradition,” she replied simply, feeling the lapel on one of the robes and then continuing forward.

“Mom,” Blaine pleaded as they walked outside. “I told you this last year - I don’t need them. I don’t wear pajamas, and flannel is way too warm for Los Angeles anyway.”

His mother paused on the sidewalk curb, turning back to face him with an unconcerned smile. “Darling,” she said, reaching up to cup his cheek, “Let me have this, okay?”

Blaine took a deep breath. Arguing was apparently futile. “Fine,” he muttered, and set off towards the car.

.

Christmas Eve dinner was an elegant affair, but small. The next day they’d make the 40-minute drive to Blaine’s grandparents’ house, where other extended family would congregate, but tonight just he and his parents gathered around the dining table.

After saying grace and passing around dishes and complimenting the food, Blaine’s dad turned to his favorite topic of conversation - the importance of networking.

“Did I tell you my old classmate Andrew is going to be in LA next month?”

“Yes,” Blaine replied, “You copied me on an email to him.”

“Have you reached out to try and set something up? He owns a rental property somewhere out there so he might know someone useful in the industry. And he’d be a good connection for you to cultivate even if he doesn’t know anyone in film, if you were ever interested in changing directions.”

The only direction Blaine felt like going in now was far, far away from this conversation. He put on a polite smile and said, “I’ve been busy with the holidays, but I’ll make sure to reach out once I get back.”

“Good,” his father said. “Andrew was in my fraternity, we lived together my junior year. Have I told you the story about the Michigan game that year?”

Blaine had heard the story multiple times before, but he let his dad tell it again anyway, making sure to laugh and gasp in the right places. He had the wry thought that at least he was getting some acting practice, playing the role of an engaged, doting son.

.

At 10pm, Blaine grabbed his mother’s keys from the hook by the door and drove her car into town, parking outside the Watering Hole.

Blaine had never gone to bars much in Ohio - he’d moved away before he was 21, and had visited infrequently since. Sam had taken him to this place over a Thanksgiving break in college, and it seemed the kind of bar that would still be open on Christmas Eve. He just needed to be out of his childhood home, away from his parents and their expectations for an hour or two.

He went in and found it unexpectedly busy. Not crowded, but far from deserted. He ordered a beer and perched at an open table against one wall, where he could people-watch or stare at the TV behind the bar.

“Excuse me?”

Blaine turned towards the voice, and when he saw the man standing behind him, he felt like he’d taken a punch to the chest. It wasn’t pain so much as shock, the air temporarily knocked out of his lungs as he beheld the older - but definitely very recognizable - form of none other than Kurt Hummel.

#december klaine challenge 2023 #plead #my fic #fic: christmas eves #klaine fic #klaine fanfiction