#okay wait this sounds like a good Christmas movie

[vivwritesfics]

"I Know"

Peter Parker has the best girlfriend ever

1.1K

Peter Parker x Reader

I've been MIA for the longest time because the inspo just hasn't been there. But I've gotten away from university for a few days, and this is what came from my peaceful time alone

"I'm so sorry, baby," said Peter. He stood on top of a building, watching a bank robbery happening opposite. A bag full of snacks and two pairs of his favourite pyjamas lay discarded beside him, and Peter made a mental note to pick it up later. The wind was biting, but Peter didn’t care. His attention was split evenly between his girlfriend and the bank robbery.

This was not the first time he had flaked on date night, and he knew it wouldn't be the last. He and his girlfriend both knew. But Peter Parker had the most understanding girlfriend in the world.

"It's okay, Pete," she said. Peter could picture her now, snuggled up in her bed, waiting to change into a pair of his pyjamas, with her snack basket filled and her laptop loaded up with a Christmas movie. "Go... save the world."

It wasn't quite saving the world, but she made Peter smile. She always made Peter smile. Y/N was the most understanding person in the world. "I'll be at yours as soon as I can. Don't open the chocolate without me."

After that, Peter had no choice but to hang up. The bank robbery had started to wrap up and Peter had to stop them. He put his phone in his bag, pulled his mask over his face, and swung down to the bank. "You guys have ruined my date night."

“What the fuck?” One of the bank robbers dropped his white bag filled with green notes and swung a bat at Peter.

It was cartoon-y, how these robbers were behaving. The white bags, the notes flying all over the place. Their ski masks weren’t masks at all, but unfolded beanies with the eyeholes cut out. “Wait, can I get a picture? My girlfriend is going to love this.”

***

Y/N’s family loved Peter. Somehow, he’d never been late to dinner with her parents. Either criminals decided to take the day off, to let Peter have his dinner, or for once somebody else was cleaning up the city in his stead.

But not tonight.

“I’ll be maybe ten minutes late,” he said as he swung through the city. His suit was discarded, but his tie was still around his neck.

Y/N had her phone between her shoulder and her ear as she put in a pair of earrings. Dinners like these were a big deal to her parents. The whole family dressed up fancy, all of her sibling’s partners were invited and they had at least three courses. “Pete, babe, it’s fine. I’ll cover you.” And, as she said it, she didn’t sound disappointed at all.

Peter really had the best girlfriend in the world. “Holy shit, I love you,” he said, only just noticing his tie. But it was too late to remove it now. “Please send me the cover story.”

They said their goodbyes (with Y/N begging him to stay safe) and went to do their things. Peter fought the bad guy, managing to keep his rather expensive tie intact. Y/N finished getting dressed for dinner and went downstairs to greet her parents.

Her siblings and their partners were already downstairs, drinks in their hands.

“There she is!” Called her brother as Y/N stepped into the room. He checked his watch and feigned a frown. “Not like that boyfriend of yours to be late, is it?”

With her hands clasped behind her back, Y/N rocked on her heels. “Actually, Peters gonna be late today,” she said, hoping they weren’t going to ask anymore questions.

“That Parker boy is never late,” her father said, “What’s holding him up?”

Before now, Y/N hadn’t thought of an excuse for Peter. She had just hoped they wouldn’t ask, and then he could’ve come up with his own backstory. (Peter had gotten good at that).

“Uhh…His house… caught fire? And his aunt… is in the hospital… with death?” oh yeah no this was not going well. “Oh! And the tire on his bike popped.”

Yes. That was very believable.

But nobody questioned it as Y/N sat beside her sister and her sister’s girlfriend. “He’ll be here soon.”

Her eyes shifted to the floor, which only made everything more believable. She pulled out her phone and sent Peter the cover story, just seconds before the doorbell rang. “I’ll get it!” She shouted, jumping up.

Racing to the front door, Y/N pulled it open to see Peter stood there, still sorting out his suit. “You are so lucky nobody else answered the door,” she said and buttoned up his shirt correctly. “I sent you over the cover story,” she whispered and kissed his cheek.

Pulling him into the house, Y/N pushed him towards her father. “Hello, Mr L/N! Sorry, I’m late, my tire burst.”

Suddenly, Y/N’s mother came running out of the kitchen. “Peter, my dear!” She shouted and pulled him in for a hug. “I’m so sorry to hear about May and your house. You can stay here for as long as you need!” She cried, running her fingers through her hair. He looked at Y/N with her brows furrowed. ‘Go with it’, she mimed. “How about we all go and visit May as soon as we’re finished with dinner?”

“Oh! Please, Mrs L/N. That’s not necessary.” Peter pulled away from his girlfriend’s mother and grabbed Y/N’s hand. “Can I have a word with you upstairs?” He asked her, and Y/N allowed herself to be pulled up to her bedroom.

As soon as the door was shut Y/N was wrapped around him. “I missed you,” she said, planting a kiss on his cheek.

“Missed me so much you told your family that May was in the hospital?”

“And that your house burnt down,” she said quietly, laying her head on his chest. “I know I said I’d cover for you, but I’m not very good at it, Pete.” Her arms snaked around his middle, sitting beneath his blazer.

Peter’s phone suddenly buzzed. He pulled it out of his pocket and frowned once he looked at it. “Oh god, what is it?” Asked Y/N, looking up at Peter with wide eyes.

“Baby, I love you but, I’ve got to go. I swear this’ll-”

“It’s okay, Peter, I know.”

Peter kissed her. It was slow, yet oh so intense. One of those kisses that makes you gasp. “I have the best girlfriend in the world.”

#peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker x female reader #peter parker smut #peter parker x reader smut #peter parker fluff #peter parker x you #tasm!peter x you #tasm!peter parker imagine #tasm!peter parker #tasm!peter parker x reader #tasm!peter parker smut #tasm!peter parker x reader smut #andrew garfield #andrew garfield imagine #spider-man #the amazing spider man

[lovelettersfromluna]

After Dark

Summary: It’s a universal rule that every ghost face at a Halloween party is hot underneath. Let’s test that theory, shall we?

an: AHHH OKAY! Lemme explain. I made a post about participating in kinktober, and while a lot of you wanted me to, I feel like it’s too late for me to properly participate. HOWEVER, I still want to give you something to kick off the weekend! Something spooky AND smutty for all my ghouls out there. I hope you’re all having a good Halloweekend! Pls stay safe and have lots of fun, I’m sure you all have the cutest costumes planned! Also, I took a different approach to reader, so let me know how you guys like her!! 🖤🖤 p.s I was drunk when I wrote this :p

Warnings: SMUT!!! 18+, MDNI, porn with no plot, strap-on sex, mentions of the word “cock”, mask kink, alcohol usage, mentions of latex, riding, cliche house party trope, slight sugar mommy!ellie if you squint??, lmk if I missed anything!

Out of all of three hundred and sixty five days of the year, today was your favorite.

Today was the one day within the year that there weren’t really any rules. You could wear anything, be whoever you wanted, and it was socially acceptable to get drunk while doing so, and there was no way in hell you would ever pass up on that.

No matter the circumstances, you were invited to a Halloween party. Whether it was some cheesy bash that was being thrown at a friend of a friends house, or a more upscale party, you were going out.

And you always looked damn good doing so.

You were always praised on your costumes, every year it was expected of you to top what you did the last, so there was no doubt in the fact that you were putting in maximum effort year after year.

This year? You stuck with one of the classics of course. The devil.

You were dripping in skin tight latex, the black corset you wore that pushed your boobs out perfectly, your soft skin nearly spilling out of the tight top, the tight booty shorts that hugged the globes of your ass, your cheeks peeking out, the gloves that hugged your arms, and the thigh high socks that shined under the moonlight, everything you wore was that delicious shiny material that made you look almost unreal.

And underneath it all? You had painted your entire body red, paired with fake red horns peeking out of your pretty hair.

So yeah, you were almost always crowned as the queen of Halloween.

This year was no different, halloweekend had been kicked off with quite the everything shower, making sure your body was in perfect condition for everything you’d be attending. You had gotten ready with your friends at your apartment, getting a few shots in before making it to the biggest party of the year. Everyone looked forward to it, putting together their best costumes for the party at the house that almost everyone died to get into.

Walking down the streets of the city on Halloween was like Christmas, various characters from movies and cartoons cheering, dancing, all social barriers that were put up every other day of the year were down, the veil being lifted for one night that allowed anything to be game.

The amount of whistles you and your friends received on your way there was almost appalling, not to mention the amount of people who told you they’d let you torture them any day. You thought that was cute.

Soon enough, the sounds of the party were near, and you could see the red lights spilling out of the big house in the middle of the block, and you knew it was time.

Eyes were on you immediately, and it made you giggle as you scoped out the food group that was there tonight. Of course you knew they’d stare, drool over you with their mouths open, begging for just a moment of your time.

But you were a very picky girl.

Ignoring their advances was like second nature, all you had to do, was shake your ass, drink some free liquor, and wait for the perfect person to take up your time for the night.

And as always, that never took long for you.

Your hips swayed to the music, eyes closed as you enjoyed one of the best parts of parties. The alcohol you drank made your body warm up in the best way, made every touch on your body feel so much more intense, all while numbing out everything else. It made you feel alive, it made you raise your arms above your head and simply let the music move you.

It was only a moment, your eyes drifting open to make sure your friend was still in front of you, and you’re sure if you hadn’t, you would’ve missed it.

Across the room, stood a tall figure. She wore a loose black t shirt, baggy black jeans, black boots….

And a ghost face mask.

The figure was turned towards you, leaning against the wall with a red solo cup clasped between a hand, a pretty tattoo bleeding into it. Anyone else would have seen it, and thought that whoever it was, was extremely fucking creepy. Everyone knew that ghost face was one of the creepiest people you could choose to be for Halloween ever.

But it just so happened, that you’ve always had a thing for masked killers.

Although you couldn’t see the eyes of the person behind the mask, you could feel them, and it made you burn from the inside. You bit your bottom lip softly, throwing back the rest of the alcohol in your cup before you turned your body more towards them, giving them a good view of your body. You began dancing, putting on a show for them, your glove glad hands running up and down your body, your neck, your boobs, your waist, practically having sex on the dance floor with yourself, all for this stranger who was most definitely watching you.

You feel like you have x-ray vision, because although you can’t see her face, you can see the way she grips her cup tighter whenever you sway your hips, turning around to give her a nice view of your ass. You see the way she shifts her weight onto her other foot whenever your hand runs over the curve of your tits. When you really know you’ve got her, is when you rest your hands on your friends hips, and pull her into your crotch, your eyes never leaving the ghost face mask. You know you’ve got her because she sets her cup down, raises her long, skinny fingers, and silently calls you over before she makes her way down one of the hallways in the house.

And suddenly, a game of cat and mouse begins.

You almost never chase anyone at a party, you’re always the one that’s being chased. However, there’s something about this ghost face. There’s an aura radiating off of her, one that’s dripping of lust, screaming at you, telling you she’s got exactly what you need, exactly what you’re looking for during these stupid Halloween parties.

So you break your little streak, and as soon as she calls you, you’re following her.

The house is lit up with all different colors, the kitchen was purple, the living room was pink, everywhere you turned was another tinted space that fit the Halloween vibe perfectly.

As you look around for your ghost face, you can’t help but huff softly. It almost feels as if she’s disappeared into thin air, as if the alcohol in your system made you hallucinate the entire thing. You begin to question yourself, a soft pout on your lips as you make your way down the final place to look for her.

But of course, you finally find her leaned up against one of the hallways, and of course it’s completely lit up red.

You tug your bottom lip between your teeth as you smile, making you way towards her. Once you’re standing in front of her, you expect her to take off the mask, show her who it is that’s hiding behind that silly mask.

But she doesn’t

You giggle softly, your hand toying with the hem of her shirt as you stare up at her with big doe eyes.

“You gonna show me the pretty face you’re hiding under that mask?” You purr out, and the ghost face simply shakes her head. It makes you pout, tugging at her shirt gently as you lean into her a bit, but still keeping your body a ways away from hers.

“But…how am I supposed to talk to you if I can’t see you” you whine, hoping that this little pouty act will get you what you want. It usually does, but this ghost face seems far too stubborn for that. She simply cocks her head to the side, as if clicking her tongue and mocking your pout.

It makes your pussy flutter with need.

She hasn’t even said anything to you, but you’re already squeezing your legs together, eager for some kind of friction to soothe the ache between your legs, your lips rubbing together with the arousal that grew with each passing second.

You hum softly, your latex clad fingers running down her arm, reaching her tattoo and tracing the pattern gently.

Hm…you don’t recall that one.

She gives you her arm with ease, allowing you to see her tattoo, that makes you smile softly.

“This is pretty…” you hum before you look back up at her, biting your plush bottom lip softly. “Are there anymore for me to find?” You question, giving her a playful smile. This one gets her, because you can hear the way her breath shudders, see the way her chest rises and falls for a moment.

She’s right where you want her.

You hum softly, your hand slowly coming up to the mask, eyeing her closely as you gently begin pushing it up, eager to see her face. You flinch when she grabs your wrist, stopping you from lifting it up any further. You pout again, it’s genuine this time, not like before. A soft huff leaves your lips before you open your mouth to complain, tell the girl that if she doesn’t want to show you her face, you’ll leave to find someone else who will.

But before you can, you’re being tugged into a random bedroom.

Upon entering, you can see why this place is the spot was so popular for parties. The rooms are clean, and the host went as far as to decorate them accordingly, the same red lights from the hallway lighting up the place. If you weren’t so hellbent on getting fucked by the ghost face, you’d most certainly be gushing over what a wonderful party host this was.

Your thoughts are completely cut off by strong arms wrapping around your waist, and pulling you into an even stronger chest. It makes you moan softly, your head falling back against her chest. You feel her strong hands running up and down your latex clad body, squeezing your hips, your boobs, running along your thighs. You can hear her breathing behind you, and you can almost hear the sweet tone of her voice through it.

You let out a small whine, one of your hands coming down to lay over hers, keeping her close to you. “Wanna play with you…” you hum softly, it makes your ghost face groan, her hands squeezing your plush body before she turns you around, and pushes you onto the soft bed.

It makes you giggle softly, your hands running along the soft sheets as you watch her. She looks like a god above you, standing so tall, the ghostly mask almost haunting as she eats you up with her eyes, head cocked to the side as you lazily smile up at her.

You move to prop yourself up onto your hands, palms pressing into the bed, your legs spreading for her. “So…you’re leaving the mask on, huh? Does that make me the helpless victim?” You pout out, holding back a giggle as you recite the lines from the movie the mask came from. It earns a slow nod from your ghost face, and you have to hold back a moan.

“Well…please play with me ghost face…I wanna be yours tonight” you purr out, your body sitting up as you reach forward, your fingers snagging around the belt loop of her jeans and pulling her closer.

You hear a soft sigh from behind the mask, and it almost sounds like she’s suffering, like she’s torturing herself just as much as she’s torturing you by not touching you yet. Her strong hand slowly comes up, cupping your chin gently and angling your head up, her thumb dragging across your bottom lip. You moan softly, kissing her finger gently, it makes her groan again.

She slowly moves down, bending down until her hands are pushed against the bed, caging you in. It makes you crawl backwards, a soft whimper leaving your lips. When she’s this close, backing you up onto the bed, you can catch a glimmer of her eyes beneath the mesh material of the eyes of the ghost. You can see her long lashes, and big green eyes. It makes your pussy throb desperately.

Because fuck, you’ve never seen eyes that pretty before.

You almost done catch her hands reaching down between you, pushing into the tight material of your latex shorts, fingers pressing against your soaked core. You’re so desperate for her, that the small act makes you moan softly, eyes fluttering shut as you grind your hips against her fingers. You can tell she’s skilled just by the way she fingers your clit and rubs you slowly, the right fabric of your shorts making it an even tighter fit.

“Fuck…” you hear softly from behind the mask, and it’s the first time you’ve properly heard her voice, it makes you feel like you can cum right then and there.

You blink softly as you stare into her eyes, watching her as she slowly toys with your pussy, making you whine and moan for her from the small motions of her fingers.

“Mmpph…feels…fuck…your fingers…” you moan softly, feeling yourself growing close just from the way she rubbed your throbbing clit. Your hand goes down to her tattooed arm, grabbing it as she begins to speed up. You whine loudly, your back arching as you grind in tow with her movements, and fuck…you’re so close, you feel like you’re going to explode just from a stranger finger fucking you.

And suddenly, her fingers are gone.

“W-what? Why’d you…why’d you stop” you whimper softly while trying to catch your breath, watching as your ghost face began to tug your shorts off. You whine softly with embarrassment, watching as she silently tugged your shorts off, a string of your arousal connecting you to your shorts. You can’t remember the last time you were this wet.

Your ghost face groans softly, mumbling something under her breath that you don’t quite catch. You open your mouth to say something, but you’re quickly being tugged up into her arms as she lays down on the bed.

Now you’re straddling her lap, your bare core dragging along her jeans as her strong hands massage your thighs. You whine softly, because you can feel the prominent bulge pressing against you through her pants. Her hands go to your hips, forcing you to grind your soaking wet pussy against her crotch, your arousal staining her black jeans, making you burn from the inside out.

You moan loudly, your hands pressing against her lower stomach as you watch the way she slowly grinds you down on her as she pleases. You’re eager, so you’re already undoing her belt and unbuttoning her jeans. You almost expect her to stop you, but she doesn’t, and you’re pulling out her pink strap, the length of it making your mouth water.

If you weren’t so fucking horny, the color would’ve made you giggle, but there’s no time for that. You tug her jeans down a bit more, to which she lifts her hips up to help you, and you begin to crawl up her body slightly until you’re hovering over her length, her hand grabbing the shaft as she runs it along your lips, getting it wet with your arousal before she helps you sink down on it.

The moan you both let out is past pornography, the weight of you pushing down her strap rubs against her clit perfectly, and she’s sure she’s never experienced someone riding her so fucking well. The sound of her pretty voice makes you want to cry, because she’s been teasing you so much that you’ll take just about anything she gives you. You begin to bounce on her length slowly, adjusting to her size, your hands pressed against her chest to act as leverage.

“Oh my…fucking god….mmmhhh…a-ah!” You moan out, eyes fluttering shut as you ride her, back arching as your hands go up into your hair, tugging on it, needing somewhat of an outlet to release the pleasure you were feeling. Your senses were on overload, and you weren’t sure if it was the build up of not knowing who the hell you were fucking, or if it was truly that good, but you’re sure you’ve never had a fuck this good in your entire life.

“Fuck…that’s a good fucking girl…bouncing on my cock so well…yeah…that’s it” the voice makes you moan loudly, your eyes opening immediately. She sounds perfect, her voice low and smooth, strong hands gripping your thighs for a moment before they come down on your ass, spanking you hard and making you moan even louder.

You can practically hear the smirk in her voice when she speaks, her voice dripping with lust as you fuck your self down onto her cock. “Haven’t even seen my face and you’re doing all of this for me…treating me special, pretty girl?” She hums out before moaning loudly with you. You can’t help but nod, slowly feeling yourself becoming dumb on her cock.

“S’good…feels so good…I’ll do anything for you” you moan out almost incoherently, saying just about anything that comes to mind in that moment.

As you continue bouncing on her cock, the motions of it all makes her mask come up a bit, and you catch a glimpse of her plush pink lips tugged beneath her pretty teeth. It makes you whine softly, and you realize you can’t fucking do this anymore.

You reach forward, your hand going to the edge of the mask, and you tug it off of her head.

You feel like you’ll lose your breath, keel over and die at that very moment when you see her, because she’s so fucking pretty. Her brown hair is so messy, soft fringe splayed across her face, prettiest freckles littering her red cheeks, those same green eyes staring into yours, pretty lips tugging into a smirk when she sees the way your eyebrows furrow with pleasure, knowing that it was her face that made you feel that way.

“Just couldn’t wait, could you?” She smirks softly, her words followed by a soft groan, hands traveling up your body and gripping your boobs that were nearly completely spilled out of your top.

“Want you to cum for me, princess…can you do that? Cum all over my cock?” She urges on, her words cut off by various moans as you continue fucking yourself down on her. You want to speak, but you can’t, so all you do is nod eagerly and give her a loud moan, feeling the familiar warmth building up in the pit of your stomach, electricity traveling through your body.

Ellie moans with you, her eyes never leaving yours as she gives you an encouraging nod. “That’s it baby…such a pretty fucking girl…been watching you all night…knew I needed to…fuck…have you…come on baby…cum for me” she commands, and you feel like you’ll turn into jelly just from the way she tells you to do it, so stern, your legs felt like they could no longer hold you up, shaking as your back arched almost painfully, and your orgasm raked through your body.

It was electrifying, the feeling of her cock sliding so deep into you, your walls fluttering around it as you came, her hands gripping your hips tightly as she pushed even deeper into you, her own orgasm visibly washing over her as she pushed her head further into the bed, eyes squeezing shut, curse words flying from her pretty lips.

You both sat there for a moment, Ellie sitting up and pressing her face against your chest as she held you close, hands rubbing against your thighs, soft kisses against your boobs, giving both you and herself a moment to collect yourselves after the intense session you’d just had.

After a few moments passed, you pouted softly as you looked down at the bed and noticed some of the red body paint had smeared onto the bed.

“Fuck…you don’t think the host will be mad about that…do you?” You mumbled softly, trying to avoid the embarrassment you felt at the fact that your fucking costume had ended up screwing you over.

Ellie chuckled softly as she looked down at the bed, humming softly as she pressed another kiss to your chest before she pulled you down to lay down with her, having every intention of keeping you there until enough people left, and you could both go for a shower.

“Nah…I don’t mind” she smirked softly, knowing she’d most definitely be making sure the sheets were changed for you both in the morning.

#ellie williams #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x you #ellie tlou #ellie x y/n #ellie the last of us #ellie x you

[foxy-eva]

Snow Angel

Summary: Reader really knows how to get Spencer in a festive mood

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Category: Fluff, Smut

Content Warning: (18+, minors DNI) a hint at Spencer’s sad childhood, food mentions, heavy kissing, oral (fem receiving), handjob, unprotected penetrative sex

Author’s Note: This is my gift for @drgenius-reid ! I wrote it as a part of this year’s Criminal Minds gift exchange @cmgiftexchange

Word Count: 1.5k

Masterlist

Spencer’s hand kept mine warm as we walked along a snow-covered path in the park. Seeing everything covered in a soft, white layer really got me in a festive mood, excited to have someone to spend the holidays with this year. 

“So, Christmas is in a few days. Do you have any plans?” I wondered while gently squeezing his hand. 

He turned his head to find my eyes as he cooed, “I was hoping to spend it with you.”

“I would really like that.” 

He smiled at me for a brief moment before he averted his eyes to look at the snow beneath his feet. After taking a deep breath, he asked, “Can I tell you something?” 

“Anything.”

Spencer stopped his movements to be able to fully look at me while he said, “Growing up in the desert with a sick mom, Christmas always felt like any other day to me. I never understood what people meant when they talked about how magical this time of year is. That was until I met you. I can’t wait to celebrate Christmas with you.”

I placed my arms around his neck to find his lips in a chaste kiss before whispering, “I love you.” 

His breath felt hot against my face when he breathed, “I love you, too.” 

It was then that I decided to make it my mission to show him how magical Christmas could be. There was so much about this time of year that he probably never got to experience and I was adamant to change that. 

“Let’s make snow angels!” I chirped and was met with a surprised look. 

“What?” 

Without further explanation I grabbed his hand and pulled him into the ground with me. He watched my motions for a moment before he lay down in the snow himself, mirroring what I was doing. We both couldn’t hold back the fit of laughter falling from our lips. 

When we got up from the ground, we took a moment to admire two perfect snow angels before rushing back to my apartment. Spencer’s cheeks were rosy when we got back into the comfort of my home, signaling that he was just as cold as I was. 

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the cold,” he muttered as he took off his damp coat. 

“I know a way to warm you up,” I told him. “Why don’t you take a blanket and wait for me on the couch.” 

When I returned to him with a mug of hot cocoa, he raised his eyebrows and chuckled, “I thought you had had something else in mind.”

“Naughty boy!” I laughed as I sat down beside him. “Don’t you know that Santa only brings presents to good boys?” 

He just shrugged as he took the mug and said, “I’m okay with that, I already have everything I could wish for.”

I placed a soft kiss on his cheek before I turned on the TV to put on the corniest Christmas romcom I could find. 

“Snow angels - check! Next on my agenda to experience the Christmas spirit are hot cocoa and terrible Christmas movies,” I announced. 

Spencer playfully rolled his eyes but I knew that he was enjoying my enthusiasm. He took the blanket to place it over the both of us before wrapping one arm around me to keep me close to him. 

When a scene of the main characters decorating a Christmas tree came on, I decided that we should do that, too. “We should get a Christmas tree for your apartment,” I let him know. “We could decorate it with purple ornaments.” 

“That sounds really nice.”

I adjusted my position inside his arms until I could fully look at him to tell him, “And we need to bake cookies! I have a recipe for the best chocolate chip cookies you’ll ever taste.”

“Cookies sound great-,” Spencer agreed before finding my lips to mumble against them, “- but I’d rather have you right now.” 

The movie playing in the background was quickly forgotten as we deepened our kiss. His lips felt soft and demanding at the same time and when his tongue met mine it was as if we melted into one another. It only took a few moments until I noticed a familiar warmth rushing through my body, making me eager to feel more of him. My hand wandered to the hem of his sweater, dipping beneath it to feel the heat of his skin. 

“Are you still cold?” I breathed into the kiss. 

“No.”

I broke the kiss to smirk at him as I purred, “Good. That means you can take your sweater off.” 

Spencer chuckled at my words but did as I said. Slowly we helped each other shed each layer of clothing until there was nothing left to separate our bodies as we lay beside one another on the couch.  

“You’re so beautiful,” he purred as he kissed down my neck. 

His hands began exploring the curves of my breasts and I felt him smiling against my skin when I answered his touches with the sounds of my pleasure. His fingertips were soon replaced by his lips as he kissed every inch of my skin within reach. Gently, he pushed apart my thighs and lay down between them before he began nipping and licking along my inner thighs. 

I knew that I was dripping with desire at this point but Spencer took his time to tease me. I was sure he didn’t do it on purpose. It wasn’t the first time that he lost track of time worshipping me, his eyes always filled with wonder when he kissed along all the curves and dips my body had to offer.

“Please…,” I finally whimpered. “I need you.” 

It was as if my words had snapped him out of a trance. He mumbled, “Sorry,” against my thigh before his mouth finally focussed on my center. My hands flew to his head, my fingers intertwining with his curls as he brought me closer to my breaking point. I dared to look down at him and moaned at the sight of half of his face buried between my thighs. It looked downright sinful. 

It took just a few more moments of his skillful motions until I entered a state of pure bliss. Spencer’s hands grabbed my hips to keep me steady as he guided me through my high. When my body began relaxing underneath him, he placed a few more soft kisses against my folds before finding his home inside my arms. 

I was quick to reach down to find his hardness, making him shudder at the sudden touch. My fingers wrapped around him and began moving just the way I knew he liked. My motions were immediately rewarded by his sighs and groans. When I let my thumb brush over his leaking tip, he whined my name against my neck. 

“Tell me what you want, love,” I cooed as I kept stroking him. 

“I–,” he whimpered as he locked eyes with me. “I… wanna be inside you. Please.” 

“I’m all yours, Spencer.” 

It took him a few seconds to process my words. The thought that I had the ability to make the smartest and most eloquent man I knew forget everything else but me made me smile. He repositioned himself until he was kneeling between my legs, taking a moment to let his eyes wander over my body. 

“I’m so lucky,” he purred as he leaned over me. “So lucky to have you.” 

I reached between our bodies to guide him to my entrance. He took his time entering my body, a sigh falling from his lips with every inch that disappeared inside me. When he was fully inside me, he leaned down to kiss me. My arms wrapped around his shoulders, pulling him even closer against me until there was no distance to be found between us. 

Slowly we began moving, our hips grinding against one another in perfect synchronicity. We got lost inside each other’s arms. As our bodies merched there was no way of telling where my body ended and his began. Together we chased the sweet relief with heavy breaths and accelerated motions until we fell over the edge together. 

Each of the pulses of my walls around him was answered with him throbbing inside me, sharing his warmth with me until he had nothing left to give. He collapsed into my arms and buried his face into the crook of my neck as he tried to even out his breathing. Our bodies stayed connected for as long as possible but we had to let go of each other eventually. 

After cleaning up I found my home inside Spencer’s arms, my head resting on his chest. His heart was still beating faster than usual but it slowed down after a few more moments. 

“I can’t wait to spend Christmas with you,” he whispered. “And every holiday after that.” 

Please like, reblog and leave a comment! I need your lovely words to stay motivated to write more stories.

Taglist: @nomajdetective @reidsbookclub @gspenc @samuel-de-champagne-problems @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @malindacath @luredwithpretzels @reidselle @alexxavicry @frickin-bats @spencersprettyslut @sebs-oxygen @happymangospot @cynbx @melifluorei-d @hotchandspencearedilfs @kobaltdragon @castiels-majestic-wings @emiliaserpe @thenerdthatwrites @velvetthunder93 @saturnstringz @missabsey @spencerslove @guacam011y @whoopdy-doo @hugyourlungs @reiderwriter @enamoradax @hales-17 @loaksulluyswife @ecneremili @xserenax-13 @grumpyy-bearr @purpledsky @super-nerd22 @r-3dlips @evvy96 @torigorie

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds fanfiction

[tip-top-cloud-surfer]

I'll Be Home for Christmas - Bob

Pairing: Bob / Female!Reader

Word Count: 1.4k

This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ Only

Warnings: Some Crying and Slight Angst; No Physical Descriptions of Reader; Reader is a Teacher; Use of "You" but No Y/N

Summary: Bob promised you that he would be home for Christmas.

Master List

Dating a naval aviator wasn’t easy. Bob's schedule was erratic and never usually worked in their favor. He could be in one place one day and a completely different continent the next or out in the middle of the ocean. And it wasn’t easy to communicate with him when he was deployed. Emails and letters were about all you could usually manage. 

For Bob, you would do it all over again to keep him in your life. But that didn’t make the holiday season any easier. 

Bob, along with the other Daggers, had been deployed for the last six months. Somewhere in the Pacific, that was all that you knew. He told you that they would be docking today and so you waited outside the school where you worked, anxiously waiting for his call. The call about whether or not he would be home in time for Christmas or not. 

Fiddling with the necklace that he bought you for your one year anniversary nearly three years ago now, you sucked in a breath when your phone started to ring. The photo of you and Bob on the hike you took on his birthday last year.

“Bobby?” you called softly, answering the call. 

“Hi, honey,” he returned, his voice sounding clearer than it usually did on these types of calls. “How are you?”

“Better now that I’m talking to you,” you replied, smiling bashfully. “What about you?”

“Exhausted.”

“What time is it over there?”

“Pretty late.”

“Well, thanks for staying up to talk to me,” you stated, a bit concerned about Bob. He was uncharacteristically short with his sentences. “How’s Phoenix and the boys?” 

“We’re all good.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Did you get the care package that I sent you?” you asked softly, fiddling with your necklace.

“Oh, yeah, I did, Honey. Thank you for sending it.” 

“Did you send a video over to Leslie? She was putting a movie together for the kids.” 

“Yeah, I did, Honey. She’s got it.” 

“Thank you for doing that. The kids will really appreciate it.” After a moment of silence on the other end of the line, you asked, “Are you okay, Bobby?”

“I’m fine,” Bob replied, his voice cracking a bit. 

“Bobby.”

“Honey, I’m . . . I’m so sorry.”

“Sorry for what?”

“I'm not sure that I’ll make it home in time for Christmas,” Bob revealed, causing your heart to shatter in your chest. 

“It’s okay, Bobby. It’s not your fault. There’s always other holidays.”

“I’m so sorry, Honey. I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”

“Don’t worry about me. Just focus on coming home safely. Whenever that is.”

“I will. I love you so much.”

“I love you too. And I really miss you,” you replied, your voice breaking at the end. 

“I really miss you too. And I’m so sorry, Honey.”

“Stop apologizing, Bobby. Just come home safe and that’s good enough for me. I love you.”

“I love you too. Bye, Honey.”

“Bye, Bobby.”

Hanging up the phone, you sniffled and wiped your tears away. You let out a steadying breath, trying to calm yourself down, before grabbing your bags and heading inside the elementary school where you worked. 

It was the last day of school before Christmas Break and so, it was your class’s Christmas party. You got to school early to set up, but now you might need to use the time to gather yourself. Opening the cabinet, you smiled sadly at the photos of Bobby that you put up. Hanging up your coat, you wiped your tears away and quickly moved to start setting up. 

~~~~~

Meanwhile, just a few miles away from your school, Bob was holding his head in his hands, looking like he was going to be sick. The other Daggers were gathered around him, all having returned home just a short while earlier. 

“He’s this beat up about it?” Hangman sighed, leaning on the car. “All he did was a little lie.”

“It’s a wonder that you’re still single,” Phoenix replied dryly, shooting him a look. 

“I made her cry,” Bob whispered out quietly as Fanboy patted his back. 

“She’ll get through it, Bob. And you only had to lie to her for a couple hours,” Fanboy reasoned, motioning for the other Daggers to speak up. 

“She’ll forget all about it once she sees you,” Phoenix replied, looping her arm under Bob’s and pulling him to his feet. “Now,  come on, we’ve got some shit to do before the big reveal.”

~~~~~

“One, two, three, eyes on me!” you called, clapping on the numbers and then pointing at yourself. When you saw that all of the kids were looking at you, you added, “Alright, do you guys remember when we made those care boxes? For the service men and women?” 

Various kids shouted out that they did remember, causing you to nod and smile. Since you worked in a Navy town, many of the kids in your class had parents or other family members in the Navy. The care packages had been a personal project that you decided to bring to your class, since you knew that a lot of the kids would be in a similar position as you—wishing that someone that they loved so much came home for Christmas. 

“Alright, well, Ms. Sullivan put together a video of them opening the boxes that we put together. So, if everyone could sit in their seats quietly, we’ll start the movie.”

You dimmed the lights before the video started up and slowly sat in your seat, waiting for Bob’s video to pop up. Kids in your class would yell out when they saw their family member, which made your heart both swell and break at the same time. The video continued on until Bob’s familiar face appeared on the screen. 

“Hi, everyone,” he called, waving to your class. 

“It’s Mr. Bob!” one of your kiddos yelled out. 

“Yeah, it’s Mr. Bob,” you mumbled sadly before you paused, frowning slightly as you examined the video more closely. “Is that the cafeteria?”

“What?” Ms. Sullivan asked, trying to hide her smile. 

“That’s the cafeteria,” you stated, getting to your feet. 

Walking up to the screen, you scrutinized the image of your boyfriend as he pulled out the items from the box, including ones that you definitely didn’t put there. Confused, you turned to Ms. Sullivan when the door opened and the lights turned back on. 

Looking at the door, you spotted Bob standing there in his flight suit, beaming at you with such a loving smile that your knees wobbled. Choking out a sob, you sprinted over to your boyfriend, causing your kiddos to scream and cheer. You wrapped your arms around him, sobbing tears of joy as he pulled you to his chest. 

“It’s Mr. Bob!”

“He came from the video!”

“What are you doing here?” you cried, fisting the back of his flight suit. “I thought that you couldn’t come home.”

“I’m sorry, Honey, but I lied. Can you forgive me?” Bob asked, rocking you back and forth. 

“Of course, I forgive you,” you choked out as Bob wiped your tears away. You snuck a chaste kiss before straightening up. “I love you so much, Bobby.”

“I love you too, Honey. And I’m really relieved that you forgave me because otherwise this would be really awkward.”

“What are you . . .”

You held a hand to your mouth as Bob slowly got down onto one knee, pulling a small velvet box from his pocket, causing your kiddos screams to reach new heights. Bob opened the box and you swore you almost fell to your knees. He looked at you with those big blueberry blue eyes, which were filled with so much love and devotion.

“Will you marry me, Honey?”

“Say ‘yes’!”

“You have to say ‘yes’!”

“Of course, I’ll marry you, Bobby,” you replied softly.

He stood up and you pulled him in for another chaste kiss that promised more when there weren’t thirty-five six-year-olds staring at you. He slid the ring onto your finger, where it would stay forever. Turning to your kiddos, you laughed and tried to wipe your tears away as they raced towards you guys. Bob squatted down again, accepting high fives and a few hugs, which only made you fall more in love with him. 

As if that was even possible. 

School was released shortly afterwards and after cleaning up the Christmas decorations and Bob hauling stuff out, the two of you walked out to your car. The Daggers told you that everyone would celebrate your engagement tomorrow, but tonight, it was just you and Bobby. 

“I told you that I’d be home for Christmas,” Bob replied, opening your door for you. 

“You did,” you agreed, pressing a less appropriate kiss to his lips. “And I think that the only time you’ve ever successfully lied to me.”

“And the last,” Bob promised, pressing another kiss to your lips. “Merry Christmas, Honey.”

“Merry Christmas, Bobby.”

#top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick #top gun: maverick #top gun #tgm #tgm fanfiction #bob x reader #bob fluff #bob floyd #bob #robert floyd x reader #robert bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd #robert floyd #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd fic #robert bob floyd x you #bob x you #bob floyd x you

[allywthsr]

CHRISTMAS MOVIES | (l.norris)

summary: you and Lando watch Christmas movies

wordcount: 1k words

pairing: landonorris x fem!reader

warnings: none!

notes: what are we thinking?

advent calendar

”Lando, come on!“

You were sitting on the couch, waiting for Lando to come and join you. You planned a Christmas movie marathon for tonight, Lando finally had less stuff to do for McLaren and could relax from the stress he had over the year.

The day had been eventful with buying presents and getting ready for Christmas, you counted down the minutes until the evening would start and Lando and you would sit on the couch.

”I‘m coming babe, you can start Netflix already.“

So you did just that, grabbing the remote control and starting the TV, opening Netflix. Clicking through the different movies that Netflix had to offer, you wanted something romantic but funny and knew you had to make it sound cool or Lando wouldn’t watch it.

He came into the room with two mugs in his hands, he made cacao for the both of you, and he even added little marshmallows. You took the mug from his hand and took a small sip after blowing on it, so it would cool down a little.

”The aftertaste is different, it’s fucking good, what did you do with it?“

Now he sat down next to you and clinked your mugs together, putting his hand on your thigh and stroking it softly.

”I added some of your candy canes, I hope that’s okay I stole some.“

”Of course! It tastes tucking delicious.“

”Have you found something to watch yet?“

”No, I’m torn between this film and that one. What do you think?“

”I like the first one better, I know you love that film.“

You looked at him and pouted.

”Why, what’s wrong?“

”You’re so cute!“

You put your mug on the table and grabbed Lando’s mug from his hands to also set it on the table, now you threw yourself at him and hugged him tightly.

”You’re the best boyfriend ever.“

”Because I said we can watch a film that you love?“, his slight chuckle made you smile.

”No, you’re always the sweetest, and look at you, making me hot chocolate because I’m freezing.“

”You’re always freezing, so obviously I want you to be warm.“

”Whatever reason, I love you.“

”I love you too.“

Now you two lay on the couch and no one moved to press start on the movie.

”Y/N, will you get up and press play?“

”But I‘m so cozy right now.“

”Then we’re not going to watch the film.“

”Ugh, fine.“

You moved off of him and pressed play, drinking another sip of your drink, and laid back down on Lando. He put his hand on your back under your hoodie and started to slightly scratch the skin, while your hands found themselves in his hair to pull lightly on his strands. You both needed an evening with cuddles and movies, needing to be close to each other.

The wintery scene on the TV looked beautiful, you couldn’t wait for the weekend in the snow you had planned soon.

The hot chocolate on the table was now empty, and you were craving for more, you kindly asked Lando to make you a new one, because you could never make it as good as he could.

You paused the film and he got up to walk to the kitchen, while he was prepping another round of cocoa, you opened the metal box with the self-baked cookies and placed some cookies on a plate to take with you to the couch. If you placed the box on the the table, it would be empty before the movie was finished, and Lando and you would have stomach pain for the rest of the night.

While you two waited for the milk to warm up, you sat on the counter and he stood in between your legs, rubbing his hands over your thigh. You enjoyed the silence, and before you could say anything, the milk was ready and Lando was mixing cocoa powder and a half candy cane into the mugs, not forgetting little marshmallows.

Together you walked back to the couch where you resumed in your old position, on top of each other and with the hands somewhere on the body of the other. Your hands were on his neck now, you loved gripping and caressing it, the strong muscles moving underneath your grip.

The movie was playing, and you knew Lando wasn’t that into it, but he was content just holding you, he told you that multiple times when you caught him staring at your face. When the romantic kiss came, Lando pulled on your chin and pressed a kiss to your lips, starting to move them carefully against your lips. Quickly the kiss got more heated and Lando sat up, pulling you on his lap, you could feel him getting excited, he was squeezing your ass, grinding your lower half against his. You had to stop this.

”I‘m sorry baby, my period is due soon and I’m already leaking some weird liquid.“

”It’s extra lube.“

You slapped his chest playfully and kissed his cheek.

”I‘m not in the mood, I’m sorry.“

”That’s nothing you have to apologize for, my love. I was just joking.“

”Do you want me to help you?“

”I‘m good, it’ll go down in a second, you know how excited I get while kissing you.“

You smiled against his lips and pecked them quickly.

”You want to watch another movie? You can choose. Are you okay by the way? Do you need any pain meds or a hot water bottle?“

”I just need you to hold me, I can endure it for now.“

You pressed another kiss to his lips and he settled back on the couch, laying you next to him, so he could put a hand on your lower belly, caressing the skin slowly.

You took the remote control and chose the next film, another Christmas romance, but it was what you craved right now, and Lando would never deny your requests, as long as he got to spend time together.

#lando norris #lando norris imagine #formula 1 #lando norris x you #lando norris x reader #lando norris fluff #lando norris x y/n #lando x reader #lando norris one shot #lando imagine #christmas #movies

[itskattkm]

Based on a request

Tara Carpenter x Fem Reader

Warnings: Christmas stuff, slight fluff, being nervous and shy as f*ck

A/N: Sorry for my bad writing, sorry for switching the perspectives :D I hope that the translation was at least good. Have fun. I tried my best.

When you’re home

Y/n sat on her armchair in her two-room apartment as she comfortably drank a ginger tea. When she took a sip of it, she slightly twisted her face and whispered "spicy." She smiled and looked out the window. It was snowing and the snow breathed the city of New York into a beautiful white. She ran over to the window and sat down on the window sill to watch the snow.

It was her first Christmas in New York. Before that, New York seemed to be a dream world for her. A world she only knew from movies. If her ten-year-old self could only see her now. She lived in a small overpriced apartment near her college. She studied (insert) and even had a girlfriend.

She was surprised herself. She could never have guessed how things would develop after she moved here. Y/N had a girlfriend. How strange.

As y/n continued to observe the falling snow, she had to think of Tara. What did Tara do right now ? She asked herself. She hadn't seen her girlfriend for a week because they were both busy with their exams. Now it was finally the weekend. For now, that meant that she could switch back and relax. No learning for now.

A flashing light attracted y/n attention. She looked to the left and could see how her neighbors opposite the house decorated their windows with fairy lights. "Oh shit," y/n said to herself. She had forgotten to buy and decoration for Christmas herself she totally forgot because of all the exam tasks, after all, tomorrow was already the first Advent. Y/N sighed and put her cup aside. This was her first Christmas alone. Without her family. Otherwise, her mother had made sure that everyone in the family came to decorate. She always bought the Christmas decorations.

Suddenly y/n cell phone rang. She looked over to the living room table and saw a picture of herself and Tara.

She answered and said shy "hey"

Tara laughed into the cell phone "y/n where are you? We're waiting"

Y/n looked confused out of the window

"What do you mean?" She asked laughing slight

Tara sighed slight

"Decorating. Christmas. You. Me. In... my apartment?" She said in a cute way

Y/n laughed and felt her heartbeat running faster "is this your way to ask me if I Wanne come over to decorate with you?"

Tara hesitated with the answer and grinned broadly when she said "maybe?"

Y/n grinned "wow who's the shy one now?"

Tara laughed "thin ice y/n... thin ice"

Y/n grinned wider and felt the heat in her cheeks. Normally y/n was always the shy and nervous one of both, but there were those rarely sweet moments when it was exactly the other way around.

"Okay Fine..." said Tara and sounded like she was giving up "would you like to come over for decorating? Since it will be our first Christmas together?"

"But it's not Christmas yet" I said teasing

Tara sighed again but y/n could already see in front of her eyes how Tara smiled, her dimples came out and the slight blush appeared in her cheeks.

"My god do you two always need so much time to get to the point?" I heard Sam say on the other side of the line.

Suddenly the cell phone rushed at Tara's side and Sam said to Y/n "please come over y/n. We wanted to decorate the apartment and we had the idea to invite you"

I smiled broadly and nodded even though she couldn't see it.

"I'll be there in 20 minutes... Should I bring anything?" I asked out of intuition and looked through my apartment. Im such an idiot I have no decoration at all I thought.

"Yes, I had the idea that the three of us could eat something... meet Tara in the New Bodega store you can help her with the groceries," said Sam

"Okay, I'm on my way"

Both ended the phone call and y/n put on her coat and gloves. She packed her keys and left the apartment. Outside, she immediately hit a light gust of wind with thousands of snowflakes. She straightened her coat and made her way to the bodega. As it was getting more and more windy, she tried to hurry.

When she saw the lights of the bodega, she sighed with relief and ran across the street. She ran into the bodega and a warm wave hit her. She took a relaxed breath and looked around to find Tara. At that moment, a laugh also had to refrain. Tara was too small to be able to see her across the shelves. And just as this thought went through y/n head, Tara appeared in the next aisle and looked at her warningly "I know exactly what you just thought" she said and pointed her finger at y/n.

Y/n laughed nervously and was thrown off by Tara with a pack of napkins the next moment. Y/n just caught the pack and looked at Tara with a crooked head "Sorry...?" Said y/n shyly.

Tara's facial expressions became gentler and she smiled as she slowly approached y/n. She grabbed her coat and pulled y/n closer to kiss her.

Y/n closed her eyes for a brief moment and had felt a pleasant wave of goosebumps all over her body as Tara's gentle lips touched her.

"What will we cook later?" I asked Tara as we separated from each other.

Tara looked at the little note in her hand "Just some pasta. Nothing special. But on Christmas Eve... you'll get the best Mexican food you have ever eaten"

She said excitedly. Y/n sprays a pleasant warmth in her body when she nervously said "so I’m invited for Christmas?"

Tara smiled wide and moved closer to y/n

"Your my girlfriend... did you though I want to spend Christmas without you?"

Y/n shrugged her shoulders "Yes but... Sam... your family?"

Tara slowly put her arm around y/n waist and kissed her gently on the cheek as she whispered "your my family now..."

Tara detached herself from y/n and searched the shelves for the last ingredients. Y/n looked at her with admiring eyes as she still felt the kiss on her cheek and Tara's words repeated themselves in her head. If only Tara could know how important these words were for y/n. Y/n didn't even knew it herself until that moment. Y/n came out of her trance and followed Tara.

Finally arrived at Tara's and Sam's apartment. Y/n Smiled amazed it was the complete opposite of her apartment. It smelled like baked cookies and there was decoration everywhere. When she entered the living room of the carpenter sisters, it was felt with warm light and a large Christmas tree.

"Wow..." y/n said speechless and looked at the top of the tree that touched the ceiling.

"Sam had to exaggerate a bit with the tree" said Tara and laughed behind y/n.

"Yeah sure... at least we have a Christmas tree. Now let's get this started," said Sam, who came out of her room and pressed a box into y/n hands. Tara brought the groceries to the kitchen and I stood in the living room like a lost deer. I looked around nervously and didn't know where and how to start. My heart began to beat faster and faster and I looked around slightly panicked.

The next moment, Tara took the box from me. She smiled warmly at me "Take off your coat and then help me..."

I nodded silently and went back into the hallway where I hung up my jacket at the cloakroom. I took off my gloves and went nervously back to the living room.

I stood in front of the tree with my arms crossed and looked up to the top with a concentrated look. Since the tree was too big, the top was bent a little because of the ceiling.

"If I get scissors... I could try to cut off the tip. So that a star still fits on it," I said shyly to Tara.

Even before I could finish my sentence, Tara was already holding scissors in front of my face.

I laughed lightly and took it from her.

After I took one of the dining table chairs and climbed on it to get to the top better, I struggled with the scissors to cut through the wood of the tip.

"How's it going up there?" Tara asked and without looking I knew that she was just grinning. I sighed "if you want you can give it a try," I said in a sarcastic tone and looked down at her.

She stood there with her arms crossed and grinned dirty "no thanks. Im good. I like the view tho..."

I looked away nervously and couldn't resist a slight laugh. I immediately felt the heat in my ears and shortly afterwards in my whole face.

After a few seconds, I managed to cut off the tip. And then threw it at Tara with a grin as I got off the chair.

"Hey!" She called and threw the tip back.

I caught it and put it on the living room table.

"I have to admit... I feel a little overwhelmed," I said nervously and looked at the tree and the boxes with the decoration.

Tara hugged y/n from behind and put her head on her shoulder.

"Relax..." she said.

I sighed "relax? Decorating the tree was always stressful at home. No matter how I and my dad had decorated in, my mom then corrected everything afterwards," I said and laughed nervously.

Suddenly I felt Tara's lips on my neck and I got very stiff.

I felt a tingling at the point where her lips had touched me. My thoughts were empty and I began to perceive more the pressure of her arms around my body.

"It's okay..." she now whispered in my ear and I had goosebumps again.

I went to relax my body and let myself fall into Tara's embrace. She held me tight and gave me a gentle kiss on the cheek.

"Come on lovebirds..." said Sam and joined us in the living room.

Y/n blushed slightly again and started decorating the tree with the carpenter sisters. They began to tell each other their weirdest Christmas story's and made sure to not break any Christmas decoration.

When we finished decorating the tree, Sam and Tara began discussing about who could be the one to put the star on the top. I just kept grinning watching them discussing.

"Tara you don't even reach the top and I bought the tree" she said teasing and held the star up so Tara couldn't reach it.

I had to keep my laughing back so hard. I never thought Sam would really tease Tara because of her size.

"Oh really? Watch me!" Said Tara competitive and managed to get the star out of Sam's hands.

Tara walked towards y/n and said

"Pick me up"

"What?" I said and laughed.

Tara looked at me with a tilted head and a slight serious look.

I stopped laughing and nodded. I bent down and put my arms around her thighs and lifted her up the next moment.

Sam laughed "I can't believe it"

We laughed when I held tara up so she could reach the top.

"Everything okay up there?" I asked grinning after Tara still didn't manage to put the star on.

"Why don't you try?" She said slightly annoyed, but I heard a smile.

I grinned broadly and held her tighter.

"Im good... I like the view" I said teasing and looked up at her while her ass wasn't far away from my face.

Tara stopped in her move and looked down at y/n with a grin, before putting the star on top of the tree.

"Finally..." said Sam and left into the kitchen.

I breathed out and let Tara down careful.

She wrapped her arms around my neck and gave me a soft kiss on the cheek.

After decorating the rest and eating together it was already dark outside.

"Thank you for the invite..." I said shy and finished to clean the last dish from our dinner.

"You don't have to be y/n... you’re part of the family" said Sam with a warm smile and touched slight y/n’s shoulder as she left the kitchen.

Again I had that goosebump on my whole body. Family. I repeated in my head.

I turned around and leaned on the kitchen counter when Tara walked towards me and grabbed my hands and intertwined our fingers.

"You good?" She whispered and moved closer to y/n

"Yeah why?" I asked quite and looked into her dark welcoming and shining eyes.

Tara shrugged her shoulders and smiled shy

"You seemed to be a bit off..."

Y/n let go of Tara's hands and placed them on Tara's hips and pulled her closer in.

"I'm good..." I whispered with a slight smile.

Tara moved her hand slowly around y/n neck and moved even closer whispering "you stay the night?" Her lips brushed slight y/n’s.

Y/n blushed and grinned shyly.

"Only... if you help me next weekend to decorate my apartment cause I totally forgot about Christmas and have nothing for my apartment".

Tara smirked and kissed y/n deep before whispering "I'll take care of that".

One week passed. It was Friday evening y/n was lying on her couch in black joggers and a hoodie. Suddenly there was a knock on the door.

Y/n furrowed her brows and got up. Who could that be. She didn't had invited anyone. As soon as she opened the door she saw Tara, Mindy, Chad and Sam. Holding many shopping bags and boxes in their hands.

"Hello there!" Called out Mindy like y/n always did.

They walked past y/n and got into her apartment.

"Damn we got some work do to here" said Sam. While y/n looked confused after chad, Mindy and Sam. Tara was standing beside y/n with a wide grin.

"I told you I'll take care of that"

Y/n looked shy at Tara "thank you..." she said quite.

There was this spark in Tara's eyes again. She moved closer to y/n and held up suddenly a mistletoe.

Y/n blushed more and felt caught off guard.

Tara kept grinning "your so shy sometimes I love it" she whispered while grabbing y/n by her chin and kissing her deep.

Y/n felt herself melting away in Tara's hands. She felt the warmth of her hands on her face and her soft lips on hers.

She pulled Tara closer and kissed her back

After both stopped kissing, y/n rested her forehead on Tara's and whispered "you feel like home to me you know that right?"

Tara smiled and caressed y/n cheek

"I know..."

Y/n kissed her softly and pulled her arms around Tara "we're family now..."

#fanfiction #jenna ortega #wednesday #ghostface #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter #samantha carpenter #mindy meeks martin #chad meeks martin #jenna ortega x reader #wednesday addams x you #wednesday addams x reader #wednsday addams #scream

[creamhoodie]

𓆩♡𓆪 Period Play 𓆩♡𓆪

A/N: A Christmas Eve gift also helped me get through my period this week. synopsis: Gojo stimulates you while you are on your period (afab reader, reader uses a tampon, set during Gojo's jujutsu high days, all characters are young adults)

“Why didn’t you go on today’s mission?” Satoru Gojo said, opening the door to your dorm room and poking his head in. 

“I’m sick,” you said motioning to the state you were in: lying in bed with a heating pad on your stomach and a box of chocolates next to you. The background noise of a chick flick you were watching filled the brief silence.  

“Bummer. I missed you out there today,” he said, now fully coming into your room and closing the door behind him. He plopped himself down on the edge of your bed and looked closer at you. “Wait when you say sick you mean-“

“I’m having menstrual symptoms, yes Gojo,” you told him, a little annoyed at his presence. While you did admire him for being the strongest, you found he could be arrogant sometimes and he was always teasing you. 

His crystal eyes seemed perplexed, almost stumped.

“Oh well, are you feeling okay?” He asked unsure, it was the first time he sounded unsure of himself. 

You failed to hold back a laugh.

“So all it takes to stump the great Satoru Gojo is some period symptoms that’s very funny,” you giggled. 

He narrowed his eyes.

“No. I know about this stuff plenty of the women in my clan went through it. I just didn’t wanna seem insensitive is all,” he said genuinely. 

“Oh okay. Well I appreciate that,” you said, accepting his words then adding, “Gojo those are mine!” when he popped a chocolate into his mouth. 

“Can I stay here with you for a bit and hangout?” He asked, licking his longer fingers for any residue of the chocolate. 

Now it was your turn to narrow your eyes. 

“Why would you wanna do that?” You asked.

“I told you, I missed you out on the mission today,” he replied. 

“Did you? I thought I always slowed you down,” you said. 

It was true that he was infinitely stronger than you and even without his abilities his body never seemed to tire as he was in perfect shape despite his raging sweet tooth. 

“Sometimes you do, but you’re good company and I like saving you,” he said with a hint of pink in his cheeks. 

His words made your heart beat pick up speed and his stunning crystal eyes becoming puppy like wasn’t helping. 

“Okay you can stay and ‘hang out’ or whatever you called it,” you conceded. 

“Sweet,” he cheered, kicking off his shoes and rummaging around until he was sitting beside you under the sheets. “What?” he asked innocently as you watched him make himself comfortable. 

“Nothing. Now give me my chocolates we can share but I’m holding them otherwise you won’t.” 

—— 

You had ended up restarting the chick flick for Gojo to watch it from the beginning. He teased the cheesiness of it at first.

“You seriously like this type of thing?” He asked, brows raised. 

“I do. I like romance and sweet gestures,” you replied a little defensively. It was a guilty pleasure especially because the romance in your life had been lacking lately. 

“Okay hold your fire I was just asking. No need to get all defensive on me, doll,” he said snickering. 

You ignored him but took the last chocolate as payback for his teasing your heart relishing the way his voice turned boyish as he exclaimed “hey!” 

As the movie progressed Gojo seemed more invested, no longer making witty remarks. He had also allowed for his knee to rest against yours under the sheets, the slight contact making you blush. You dared not look up at him however, not wanting to be caught. It was unfair that he got to sneak all the glances he could at you (and unbeknownst to you there were plenty!) but it would be so obvious if you looked up at him. 

After a while you dozed off. 

You only came to when you felt Gojo shifting under you. 

“Gojo?” you asked, groggily as your mind registered your position. 

You had ended up laying on his chest and on top of him in your sleep as he sat there in a relaxed fashion like your own personal recliner. 

“Good morning, doll. You missed the ending but I gotta say it wasn’t as bad as I thought,” he teased. 

From where you were laying you could smell his natural scent as well as his musky earthy cologne, the smell of him was enticing to your pheromones. “Like how I smell?” he was clearly amused and you looked up at him now, he was watching you intently.

“Gojo stop being weird, I just woke up. Sorry for falling asleep on you,” you said, straightening yourself up so you were sitting next to him again rather than laying on him. 

“Your face is red,” he teased. 

“Because it was hot under the blankets,” you deflected.

His grin said he knew otherwise. 

“You’re cute when you’re sleeping,” he said. 

Again, your heart began to pick up speed and to your horror you felt a second heartbeat in a much more intimate area.

“Okay, well since the movie is over you can go now. Thanks for keeping me company. See you on the next mission,” you said, trying to force nonchalance when you felt anything but. 

Gojo laughed and leaned closer to you. 

“See you on the next mission? Why are you talking to me like we’re just colleagues?” 

He came ever closer still, bridging the gap between the two of you so you could smell his minty breath. 

“Isn’t that what we are?” you asked, blinking slightly. Time seemed to stop with him and suddenly you were hyper aware of everything from his long white eyelashes to his lush pink lips and of course his signature crystal eyes. 

“Ouch, I would have at least called us friends, but you wanna know something?” his voice was like molasses as if he wanted you to take in every word. 

“What?” you asked.

“I don’t just wanna be your friend,” he confessed. His lips were on yours and you exhaled a breathy moan you didn’t know you had been holding in. “Fuck, do that sound again,” he whispered between kisses. 

You did, it was easy with the way he was making you feel breathless as his tongue and lips completely intermingled with yours. 

Your hands went instinctively to his undercut, always having wanted to touch it, you did now, fingers grazing the blunt hair texture causing him to moan into your mouth. 

Hormones raging you struggled to wrap your legs around his waist, but luckily he knew what you wanted. 

Effortlessly, he positioned you two so he was in front of you in a sort of missionary fashion, your legs draped around his shoulders, he bent forward to give you tongue filled kisses. 

“I’ve wanted this so bad, you have no idea,” he whispered to you. 

“Me too,” you came clean at last. You made out with him some more and you felt his erection through his pants against your sex causing you to come back to reality. “Gojo, I'm on my period, remember?” 

He blinked as if remembering but he was as witty as ever.

“So? A little blood doesn’t scare me. Does it scare you?” he teased. 

Your face flushed with heat. Of course it didn’t scare you but the prospect of him seeing you in that manner did.

“Gojo!” you whined in disapproval.

“I’m kidding, god you’re so fucking cute when you’re riled up. There’s plenty of other ways for us to have fun,” he said. 

As if to demonstrate, he resumed kissing you, his hands inching up your shirt hesitantly, you nodded to give him approval and he continued. You sighed in bliss as you felt his large hands cup your breasts as he continued to kiss you. His thumbs massaged the nipples that were hypersensitive from it being your time of the month. 

“Feels good doesn’t it?” he said softly to you as your lips broke apart. 

You could only nod, eyes rolling back in pleasure. He continued to massage your nipples and as he did he grinded his clothed erection against your clothed sex stimulating you as much as he could. 

“Gojo.. so good,” you moaned. 

“Call me Satoru,” he said, his voice shaky, almost vulnerable. 

“Satoru..” you moaned, indulging his request and you didn’t miss how his eyes softened at you doing so. 

“Fuck, can I take your shirt off?” he asked his voice heated and eyes still soft, a thrilling combination that was making your stomach leap with butterflies at what it could mean. 

“Yeah,” you said, granting him permission, it was getting too hot anyways. 

He eagerly popped open the buttons of your top and you didn’t miss how one went flying in the air. 

“Sorry. I’ll fix it or get you another. Just so excited,” he said breathlessly.

“It’s fine Go- Satoru,” you assured him, unhooking your legs from his shoulders and opting to sit up to help him shrug the sleeves off until the whole thing was discarded and forgotten on the bed. 

You hadn’t been wearing a bra so your full breasts were exposed. Gojo had always taken peeks at your breasts and down the cleavage of your shirt when you weren’t looking. It was all too easy for him given the height difference. Now faced with your exposed breasts he couldn’t look away, feeling like an adolescent again seeing a pair for the first time. 

“Fuck,” he whispered, again cupping them with his hands. You trembled, loving both his reaction and touch. “your tits are fucking perfect.”  

He bent forward and to your amazement he began sucking on your nipple while his other hand worked the other nipple, massaging it with his fingers again. 

It was all too much and somehow much more sensual than you would have ever expected foreplay to be. 

He looked up at you from where he was sucking your tit, blue eyes not leaving your face. His lips felt so good, the stimulation against the sensitive skin so pleasurable, you couldn’t help but grab his head to hold him in place. 

He was bringing out sides of yourself you didn’t know existed, a new sexual confidence you hadn’t had before. Between him and your hormones, the racing of your pulse in your veins and clit you just wanted more of him. 

This newfound confidence caused you to move his head between you both your tits now, pressing your arms against yourself closer so your tits were fully enveloping his face.

“Yeah that’s it, suffocate me with your tits baby,” he groaned, his words muffled but decipherable against your skin. 

“Oh god,” you moaned, your lips quivering completely on the brink of losing it now at the new endearment he had called you. 

You mentally cursed your cycle for cock blocking, you wanted him, no you needed him desperately. 

“You wanna be fucked so bad, I can tell,” he teased and you figured not even a face full of tits could silence his playful personality.

“Shut up,” you replied but loosened your grip so he could come up for air, now his face was flushed and snowy hair was a full on mess, plastering down on his forehead with sweat. 

“It doesn’t take six eyes to tell you wanna be fucked, even a blind man could tell,” he said. 

“So what are you getting at? You seem in a similar state yourself,” you asked. 

“Well my offer still stands. I wouldn’t be the strongest if a little blood scared me,” his eyes glowed mischievously. 

You chewed on the inside of your cheek as you contemplated it. You were wearing a tampon after all, maybe he could stimulate your clit a little and help you orgasm? 

“Mmm, okay Satoru but we can’t do much else besides clitorial stimulation because you know,” you said. 

He perked up.

“Sounds good to me. I’ll do only what you want,” he said. 

He got off the bed positioning himself on his knees in front of you, pulling your legs closer to him so you were within perfect reach. His long fingers reached for the ties of your sweatpants and you suddenly felt shy. You began to overthink: this was your first time hooking up with him, what is too much too soon? What if he didn’t like it? Even worse, what if you smelt even though you had been keeping up with your hygiene more than usual because of your period? 

He sensed your hesitation, pausing.

“Hey, you okay?” he asked softly, voice serious for once. 

“Yeah I’m fine,” you replied, ever the people pleaser. 

He knew better.

“If you’re uncomfortable we don’t have to do anything. I just wanna make you feel good that’s all,” he said genuinely. 

You searched your feelings. You wanted him, you always had, and now you had your chance to be with him. What was stopping you? Just fear, fear that he wouldn’t like it or he’d judge you. 

“I want to, Satoru I’m just..” your words drifted off. Luckily, he knew, he always seemed to know. 

“Scared? That’s okay. I’m right here with you. I’ll take care of you,” he said. 

His sentence.. it was the very same sentence he had told you on your first ever mission when you were paired up with him. You had been so scared then and he had said these exact words to you, and it was then that you had begun to fall for him. It was something so little but it meant so much and as the memory played in your head it gave you the assurance you needed. 

“You can go ahead now,” you said nodding to him. 

“Yeah? Alright, let me know if you wanna stop at any time. You’re in charge,” he said, visibly excited. 

With that, he undid the tie of your sweatpants and you helped him slide off your body along with your underwear, he placed your garments carefully on the floor. 

Your bare sex exposed to him now, you didn’t feel as embarrassed as you thought you would have. Maybe it was because of his reassurance and the way he treated your clothes with such care that showed you he’d be non judgmental. 

“Wow, you’re incredible,” he praised as you laid completely nude to him.

 He used two fingers to feel up your wet folds making you shiver and your breathing hitched when he found your clit. He started rubbing your clit with his two fingers in a circular manner. He loved the way you let out a little ‘oh’ your face taking on an expression of absolute ecstasy.“That’s a good girl, your moans are so fucking sexy,” he said. 

He was enjoying himself as well, making you feel good turned him on but then again everything you did sexually or not had always had an affect on him. You had said clitorial play only, and he was fine with that, after all he was a master of worshiping the clit. 

Lucky for you, his fingers weren’t the only ones that were well versed in this art form. He inched forward, slicking his tongue across your precious pearl. 

“Oh- Satoru- fuck yes!. mm,” you sounded unhinged, extremely in heat and all because of him. 

It was everything he had wanted since he had seen you for the first time and as he continued to lap and simultaneously rub at your clit he enjoyed the view of your naked tits rising and falling with each breathy moan. 

“Keep going, fuck, please keep going,” you begged taking full advantage of his earlier statement of you being in charge. 

He had no intention of stopping and he had taken to licking the rest of your sex, tonguing your fleshy labia lips as well. He felt that he could spend infinity here between your thighs eating you out, and god did you smell good. He wasn’t the type of man that entertained foolish unrealistic fantasies of women smelling like roses down there and he was experienced enough to know what a pussy smelt like and yours with its heated metallic scent and taste was sending him over the edge. 

“So good,” he lapped at your arousal, “so fucking good.” 

Hearing how turned on he sounded made you pulsate more and you couldn’t help yourself, like you did before you reached down and took hold of his head pressing his face against your pussy. 

It was criminal how insanely good he was at this, criminal how he had withheld this ability of that smart mouth of his from you. God, how many times have you two had spare time from finishing a mission early? Countless and to think you could have spent that spare time with him like this.

Your moans began to sound wet and guttural as tears rolled down your face from the immense gratification he was making you feel. As you felt yourself getting closer to climaxing, your grip loosened on his head as you fell back against the bed, hands falling back as well and gripping the sheets. 

He glanced up at you, his face slick with both sweat and your arousal as he continued to pleasure you. The way your hair was matting to your forehead and was disheveled brought him glee since it reminded him of when he’d ruffle the top of your hair to tease you. 

“Satoru, I’m so close,” you whispered. 

“I know, I know,” he cooed gently as he paused, opting to only stimulate your clit with his fingers now. The raging erection that had been present during this whole ordeal pained him now and he wanted nothing more than to sink into the deep warmth of your pussy, but he understood that wasn’t possible right now. He’d later jerk off to the thought of you (not for the first time) to relieve himself, right now he wanted the focus to be on pleasing you. He found your most delicate spot and set a rhythmic pace. 

“Yes, Satoru right there just like that!” you exclaimed enthusiastically knowing that if he kept his motions in this tempo you’d soon orgasm. He followed your command, eager to watch you hit your peak and he decided to aid you in that regard by talking dirty. 

“You’re so fucking hot, you know that? Always have thought so from the moment I saw you.” 

His words earned him a yelp from you and caused your knees to buckle, that made him smile… so you love when I talk dirty to you, doll, he thought to himself. 

“You know how many times I thought about taking you as my own while we were out there all alone together on missions?” 

He kept the same tempo you had instructed and he put his free hand on your waist, fingers kneading down the thick flesh of the side of your ass.

“Better yet, you know how many times I stroked out to you when we’d go our separate ways for the night staying at whatever dingy hotel we could find?” 

By this point his words, his confirmation that his attraction to you ran as deep as yours for him was making your toes curl. 

You were so fucking incredibly close as if standing at the edge of a cliff, body full of adrenaline. 

“Truth is I may be the strongest but you’re the only thing that can render me completely weak, doll,” he whispered. 

And off the cliff you fell into a cloud of pure bliss as your body released its orgasm. It felt so good, better than anything you had experienced. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, closing on their own accord. 

It was a fulfilling end to this symphony of pleasure he had brought you. 

“Satoru… that was amazing,” your words slurred and were almost buzzed as if you were drunk. 

To think this was the pleasure he had brought you only with his tongue and fingers. You were willing to bet that the pleasure he could bring you was limitless but for now you focused on catching your breath feeling as free as a cosmic star. 

—-

“Can I stay with you? I’m not the type to hit and run,” he said after you finished redressing yourself. He had cleaned you (and his face) up before gently handing you your clothes and straightening himself up to his full height. 

“Yes I suppose you can,” you said awkwardly not knowing how to go forward in this new dynamic with him. 

He seemed to pick up on that. 

“Things don’t have to be weird between us, you know they can keep being how they’ve been,” he said.

“And what does that mean?” you asked looking up at him from where you sat at the edge of your bed. 

“It means I can still do this,” he said ruffling your hair, causing you to protest. He leaned forward, hands resting on the sides of the bed as he eye level with you “and I can do this,” he added, kissing you softly. 

You moaned against his lips, enjoying the way his lips felt against yours. When your lips broke apart he said: 

“Now should we cuddle for a while? You can enjoy my scent freely without having to pretend you don't,” he offered.

#gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo smut #satoru x reader #gojo x y/n #jjk gojo #jjk x reader #jjk drabbles #jjk smut #jjk fanfic

[rxmqnova]

The best Christmas present

Y/N, Billy and Tommy: 10 years old Story: Wanda surprises her triplets by coming home earlier from her mission… ——————————————————

Y/N'S POV It's been two months since mama was called on some urgent mission. I miss her so much and I don't think I can wait another month until she comes back home, especially when tomorrow is Christmas.

My brothers and I have been staying home with auntie Nat ever since mom left. I really love spending time with auntie Nat, but it doesn't make me miss my mom less. What annoyes me is that we can't even call her, because it's some super secret mission. I swear that once mom is home, I will never ever let her go away for that long again.

I put on one of mom's hoodies and make my way to the kitchen, cause Nat just called us on dinner. I sigh when I see Billy and Tommy racing down the stairs and slowly follow behind them.

I take a seat at the table next to Tommy who is already eating. Auntie Nat places a plate in front of me and kisses the top of my head.

"What's wrong, детка?" Auntie Nat asks, sitting on the free chair beside me with her own dinner. (baby)

"I just miss mama" I sigh, moving the food around the plate with my fork.

NATASHA'S POV "Oh honey, she'll be home soon" I pull Y/N in for a hug, trying to hide my smirk.

Wanda completed her mission yesterday and now is on her way home. She asked me to not tell the kids as tomorrow is Christmas and she wants to surprise them.

Y/N has been walking around like a body without a soul since Wanda left. Billy and Tommy are doing pretty good without their mom, both are missing Wanda too but not as much as Y/N. Wanda and Y/N have such a strong relationship, they're best friends and I hate seeing my niece that sad, she's even been sleeping in Wanda's bed and wearing her mother's hoodies.

"A month is not soon, Natty" Y/N mumbles into my chest as we're still hugging. I press a kiss to the top of her head and rub her back.

"How about a movie night with a lot of cuddles. How does that sound?" I ask my niece, wiping the few tears that have escaped her eyes. Y/N only sadly nods before burying her head back into my chest.

We eat dinner before Y/N, Billy, Tommy and I move to the guest room where I'm staying. We decide to watch Grinch as it's Christmas and all three kids love the movie. Y/N falls asleep cuddled up to me a few minutes after the start of the movie though.

When the movie ends I carefully peel Y/N off of me, letting her sleep with me today, and get up from the bed, following the boys into their room to tuck them in.

Once all three demons are asleep, there are only two last things to do… prepare all the presents and wait for Wanda to arrive.

Y/N'S POV I wake up cuddled up to auntie Nat. I guess I fell asleep during the movie. But then it hits me… it's Christmas!

"Auntie Nat?" I shake her gently, trying to wake her up.

"Hmm? What, детка?" She slowly opens her eyes before checking the time. (baby)

"It's Christmas!" I smile widely but before Nat or I can say anything else, the door slowly opens, revealing my brothers. Billy and Tommy jump on the bed next to me, making me laugh. "Let's go, Natty! It's Christmas!" I hold her hand, trying to drag her out of the bed on which auntie Nat chuckles and finally sits up.

"Okay, let's go" She sighs.

Billy, Tommy and I rush downstairs, auntie Nat following behind. When I see the living room full of Christmas presents, sadness takes over me. Christmas is a family holiday and it's just not it when mama's not here. Maybe we should wait for her…

Billy and Tommy are already opening their presents but I'm just standing behind the couch and watching them. I just can't join them when mom's not here.

"You won't go to open your presents?" A voice wakes me up from my daydreaming.

"I think we should wait for…" I stop when I look at the one the voice belonged to. "Mama!" I shout, immediately wrapping my arms around her and pressing my face into her stomach. "I missed you"

"I missed you too" Mom says, kissing the top of my head.

"Mom!" I hear Billy and Tommy shout before their arms wrap around me, all three of us hugging mama tightly.

"I thought you're coming home next month" I look up to her with a huge smile on my face.

"I couldn't leave my sweethearts alone on Christmas" Mom smiles, kissing our foreheads. "Now who wants to open the rest of the presents?" She asks, scrunching her nose.

"Me!" Billy and Tommy shout, running away again. I keep holding mom tightly though, not wanting to let go.

"You won't go, my little monkey?" Mama asks, rubbing my back, but I only shake my head in response. "Why so? I'm here, Y/N/N, I'm not going anywhere" Mama smiles at me, pressing a kiss to my forehead, but I only shake my head once again.

"I already got the best present" I grin, looking up at her. "Please don't leave me for that long again, mama"

"I won't, I promise. I'll tell Fury to send someone else next time. I don't care how urgent it'll be" She smiles, stroking my hair. "Let's go to open the presents, hm?"

"Mhm" I nod with a smile. I'm never ever letting her go away again.

----------------------

MERRY CHRISTMAS!!! <33

PS: I'm working on all the requests, just wanted to post a Christmas one shot <33

Wanda Maximoff masterlist

Masterlist

#wanda maximoff #natasha romanoff #scarlet witch #black widow #fanfiction #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff x daughter!reader #wanda x you #wanda x y/n #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x reader #billy maximoff #tommy maximoff #natasha x y/n #natasha x you #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x reader

[stayteezdreams]

Cozy

Plot: You and Yeosang spend a cozy winter evening together.

Pairing: Kang Yeosang x Gn!Reader

Request: I used a left over Halloween prompt ''Cozy evening watching movies" and made it Christmas (Requested by @tumbleboof)

Warnings: Nothing!

Words: ~0.8k

You hummed absentmindedly as you placed the cookies on the tray along with the other snacks you had prepared. As you debated what else to add, you felt arms slip around your waist.

You smiled as Yeosang pressed his face into your neck, gently kissing your skin. Then as he rested his chin on your shoulder he reached out to grab a cookie.

You tsked at him as you slapped his hand away, "These are for after dinner."

You didn't have to look at him to see his pout as he squeezed you tighter. "Then let's eat, I'm hungry."

"Is it all set up?"

He nodded and straightened up, before taking the snack filled tray from you and leading the way into the living room.

As you followed him, the lights faded from the bright kitchen lights to the dark warm glow of the Christmas lights and candles.

You and Yeosang had decorated the living room and covered the couch with various blankets and pillows. Now you planned to spend a cozy evening together in the living room, cuddled on the couch together watching Christmas movies.

A list of Christmas movies were queued up for you to watch as you covered your table with your favorite food, snacks and drinks. It was dark, cold and snowy outside, the perfect atmosphere for the evening.

You eyed the food that you and Yeosang had ordered. Giggling, Yeosang looked over at you and hummed quizzically.

"We ordered too much."

He grinned, "It's okay, we can save them for left overs."

You nodded in agreement as you settled beside him, your first movie playing as Yeosang laid out a blanket over to two of you.

Two movies later, you were now on the couch, your body stretched out on top across Yeosang, his arms wrapped around you. The current movie played with no audience as you and Yeosang talked in between light kisses and soft laughter.

You had eaten your fill of food and desserts as the night grew later and later. You and Yeosang were so lost in each other's company you failed to notice the pitch black night outside.

Yeosang gently ran his fingers up and down your arm as you rested your chin on his chest. He looked down at you with a fond gaze as you talked about various activities to do before Christmas.

"We should go ice skating."

"Can you even ice skate?" He chuckled.

You smiled up at him "I haven't gone for a long time, but I used to be pretty good."

He hummed "I'd like to see it."

"Then we'll go?"

He nodded, "Whatever you want."

Scooting yourself up to meet his eyes you pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, "I want to do what you want also."

He stared into you eyes for a moment as he brought his hand up and caressed your cheek. "I want-"

You rose your brow as you waited patiently for him to decide. He smiled softly and you tilted your head and smiled.

"What? What do you want?"

"I just want you."

"But you already have me."

"Perfect, then I'm happy."

You rolled your eyes with a groan, but couldn't resist the grin that pulled at your lips.

"Come on, there's gotta be something! Anything!"

He chuckled and you felt his chest rumble beneath you.

"Okay, okay." He thought for a moment before his eyes lit up a bit. "What about the lantern festival?"

Your eyes lit up, "We can do that!"

He nodded, "We can do that, and then do some shopping and get some food."

You nodded along with him, "Sounds great."

He grinned before leaning up and kissing you. Resting his head back down he gently patted your head, "I really just want to spend as much time together as we can."

You grinned and kissed him softly, "Me too."

Laying your head back down on his chest, you hummed in contentment just as the credits began rolling of the third movie.

"Oh! It's over!"

Yeosang smiled knowing it had been the one movie you really wanted to watch this evening, "Do you want me to re-start it?"

You chuckled before shaking your head, "No, we can watch it again another time. I'm getting sleepy anyways."

As Yeosang continued to caress your head, you felt yourself being lulled to sleep. "Then sleep."

You mumbled softly, knowing you were fighting a loosing battle. "But what about spending as much time together as we can?"

Yeosang grinned to himself. "We have tomorrow, and the next day, and the day after that. So we have plenty of time. So if you are tired, sleep. Besides, I like when you fall asleep on me."

You smiled as you gently gripped his shirt, unable to speak again, as you lost yourself to sleep. Trying to grasp onto the last of your conscious mind, you spoke what you had hoped were intelligible words.

Yeosang chuckled as you attempted to grumble out a goodnight, but only managed some soft mumbles.

Wrapping his arms around you, he squeezed you softly. "Goodnight. I love you."

xx End xx

Simple and sweet, hope you liked it!

General Taglist: @otsilliak, @brattybunfornct, @bahng-chrizz, @otakutrash669

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#yeosang x reader #yeosang/reader #kang yeosang x reader #kang yeosang/reader #yeosang imagine #ateez x reader #ateez/reader #ateez imagine #kang yeosang imagine #kang yeosang fic #yeosang fanfic #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #12 days of christmas #yeosang oneshot #yeosang drabble #ateez drabble #ateez oneshot #yeosang fluff #yeosang x gn!reader

[arlana-likes-to-write]

Christmas Everyday

Summary: Yelena hates the cold, nothing good has happened to her when the temperatures dropped. When an assignment takes her to Boston, MA, and she stumbles into a cafe to escape the bitter weather, maybe the cold isn't as bad as she thought.

Warning: gun shot, gun shot injury, mention of HYDRA, Red Room and killing, blood, original character death, fluff and angst, cannon type violence, gay panic (lol)

Word count: 4.1k

Yelena hated the cold. It reminded her of Russian winters, fake Christmas’ in Ohio, and her time in New York when she was hired to kill Clint Barton. She wished she was someplace warmer, but work brought her to Boston. It was snowing lighting. Yelena walked down the busy sidewalk and maneuvered through the crowd. She had some time before her stakeout and wanted something warm to drink. Picking a random cafe, she opened the door and was surrounded by warmth. She almost moaned at the break from the cold.

The cafe wasn’t busy. A few tables were occupied by patrons working on their laptops or holding a book. She noticed there was a small library in the corner, but what made Yelena cringe was the Christmas decorations all over the place. There were decorations for the holidays that took place in December: Hanukkah, Kwanzaa. It was like something out of a Hallmark movie.

Sighing, she stepped up to the corner. “I’ll be right with you.” A voice called from the back. That was fine. She needed time to think and figure out what she wanted. “Hot chocolate and a banana muffin for Lindsay,” you put the two items down and wished the girl that came to collect them a ‘Happy Holiday.’ “Hi, sorry for the wait. Are you ready to order, or do you need a few more minutes?” Yelena couldn’t help but stare at you, a red beanie on your head and dressed in black jeans and a flannel. It was 9 am, and the amount of energy you had was intimidating.

“Black coffee and a chocolate croissant,” she ordered. You didn’t bat an eye at her accent.

“A name for the order.”

“Kate,” the blonde answered without hesitation. Giving her real name with her target being so close would be stupid.

“Alright, Kate,” you smiled. “That will be $7.25,” Yelena handed you the exact change and slipped a few extra bills into the tip jar. “Your order will be right up.” You removed the croissant from the display case and put it in the oven. Next, you poured her coffee.

“Are you the only employee?” Yelena found herself asking. There was no line, so she figured it was okay to make light conversation. You shook your head.

“I usually work the most, but there are two others, but everyone called in sick,” you laughed. “So you are stuck with little old me,” you bagged the croissant and placed the two items. “One black coffee and chocolate croissant for Kate,” the blonde took her order. “Happy Holidays.”

“Same to you,” Yelena turned to leave the little shop, and when she opened the pastry bag, she saw the croissant she ordered and a small blueberry muffin. Yelena was amazed you put it in there without her noticing. Smiling, she took a bit and continued on her way.

*

She had no intention of returning to the cafe, but she did. Every day before she started her assignment, she would enter and be greeted with soft Christmas music and your warm smile. It was the same order: black coffee and a chocolate croissant. Every time you put something extra in the bag. Yelena never mentioned it, and neither did you. Where there wasn’t a line of customers, Yelena asked you questions about your life in the city, and in return, you asked your fair share. She told you she was in the town for business, which you joked and said sounded ‘sketchy.’

Yelena should have put an end to it. It was dangerous and stupid, but there was something about you and the small cafe that kept her wanting more.

*

The familiar smell soothed the ache in Yelena’s body as she opened the door to the cafe. It was quiet; only one other person was there, and he was reading a newspaper in the corner. You looked up from whipping the counter. “Missed you yesterday. I was worried my favorite customer skipped town and didn’t bother saying goodbye.” Yelena chuckled.

“I slept in,” she said, approaching the counter. What she did was drink too much to dig out the bullet out of her stomach and pass out. She slept into one. Your eyes flickered across her body and landed on her face.

“Are you okay?” You asked. Yelena nodded.

“I just feel like I got hit by a bus,” you chuckled and glanced at your coworker. Her name was Jennifer. On busier days, she cooked while you handed the counter.

“Jen, can you watch the counter for a second?” She agreed. Yelena watched you curiously as you rounded the corner and grabbed her hand.

“What-?” Yelena let herself be dragged to the back of the kitchen and into a cleaning closet. “What the fuck?” She asked as you pushed her down into a chair.

“Just shut up and listen,” you grabbed a first aid kit and knelt in front of her. Your warm hands pushed up her shirt. The stitches she did ripped. How the hell did she not notice? “That guy in the corner when you walked in,” you opened an alcohol pad and cleaned up around the wound. “He’s been here the past few days asking about you.” Fuck. She was being so stupid. A low hiss escaped her mouth when you pressed an alcohol pad. “Sorry,” you mumbled. “I haven’t told him much, but he’s been,” you paused. “Aggressive.” Yelena’s eyes narrowed.

“Has he hurt you?” You shook your head.

“No, but you need to leave. There is a back door,” a gunshot filled the quiet cafe, and you both stood up quickly. Yelena almost hit her head against yours. “You need to go now.”

“Come with me. It’s not safe,” she saw the hesitation pass through your eyes.

“I can’t,” you whispered. “I’ll stall him and see if they are okay up front.” Another gunshot. You opened the door to the closet. “Just go,” Yelena wanted to go in and take the man down, but with her condition, she would lose.

“Don’t die on me,” you chuckled. “I’ll come back,” Yelena promised. Promises were dangerous in her line of work. They were uncertain and unpredictable, and if broken, they left both parties in pain. You nodded, offering her a kind smile. It was almost like you didn’t believe her. Another shot rang out, causing Yelena to look away from you and run to the door. It led to a back alley, and the cold air caused goosebumps to form on her skin.

It was unlike her to run away from a fight. She was trained to face it head-on but ran from this one. When she was a reasonable distance away, she pulled out her phone and dialed 911. “911, what’s your emergency?”

“I like to report a robbery in progress.”

*

You steadied your heart rate and walked back to the front of the store with your hands raised. The man was standing in the middle of the room, the gun pointed at you when you appeared. “Well, look who finally joined the party.” His voice was laced with a Russian accent. Unlike the blonde you knew, it did not provide warmth, but a chill went down your spine. “Where is the blonde bitch?” You saw Jennifer standing in the corner, unharmed but terrified. A few more customers must have entered when you were helping the blonde; two of them were on the ground, not moving, with a pool of blood forming around them. “Answer me!”

“Gone,” you replied. “She went out the back.” He laughed, shaking his head. His laughter brought you back to a dark part of your past, and you focused on staying in the present.

“Why are you constantly getting in my way?”

“Why are you after her?” You questioned.

“Your girlfriend killed my boss,” he answered. That was not surprising. Wait, did he call her my girlfriend, you thought?

“She’s not-” you stopped yourself. “Look, I called the cops. They’ll be here any second. You have enough time to leave before they show up.” He laughed again and began to pace, side to side. You saw a knife on the counter, and while the man was muttering to himself, you grabbed it and placed it in your pant pocket.

“Do you know who I work for?” You had no clue and honestly couldn’t care less. Since you were a kid, you learned that someone or a group had to be in power, and if the top dog was displaced, someone was ready to take over. It was exhausting, and you found it useless to evolve yourself in the ‘political’ undertakings of the city you now called home. Your silence annoyed him. “I’m going to kill you, then I’ll find that Black Widow and slice her open.” You chuckled. “What’s so funny?”

“I have a feeling she won’t be that easy to kill,” you answered, especially if she was a Black Widow. “And fun fact: I won’t be that easy either.”

You jumped over the counter, which separated you and him. He missed his first shot and landed the second in your stomach. The pain was nothing to you since you’d been shot before, and you wondered if this would be your last. You pulled the knife out of your pocket, used his hesitation to reload, and kicked the pistol out of his hand. Whoever this man worked for, you figured he was on the lower end of the organization because his hand-to-hand combat was shit. He was using this opportunity to prove himself.

It was easy to close the distance on him and stab the knife in his stomach. You pressed forward until his back was against the bookshelf, and blood began to pool in his mouth. Once he stopped struggling, you let his body fall to the ground. Besides your breathing and the distant sound of sirens, the cafe was silent. You stumbled backward; a pained groan left your lips as you put pressure on the gunshot wound. “Oh my god! Oh my god!” Jennifer said. Her footsteps rounded the corner, and she had a white towel in her hand. “That was insane!” She pressed the towel to your stomach. “Are you okay? God, of course you aren’t.” You chuckled.

“I’m okay,” you said. Jennifer rolled her eyes.

“You’re a badass,” she said. “I kind of figured that about you.” You leaned your head back on the wall. You killed someone. It was in self-defense, but you ended a life. You wanted out of this life, and of course, a blonde Black Widow would pull you back into it.

*

A knock on your apartment door caused you to look up from the boiling pot. Since you were shot five days ago, you were still heavily restricted on movement. Hell, the cafe owners refused to let you go back to work until a doctor cleared you, which was for another two weeks. So you’ve kept to yourself in your apartment, surviving on grocery store delivery services and movies on TV. Another knock caused you to sigh and walk over to it, not bothering to put on a shirt. You’ve only worn loose tank tops and sweatpants. It was easy, simple, and required little movement. You glanced at the peephole and quickly opened the door when you saw the blonde. “Hi,” she smiled. You pulled her into your apartment and closed the door. “Well, buy me dinner before you drag me around like that,” she teased.

“I can’t believe you are still here,” you said. “Is it safe?” She sighed, took off her winter jacket, and hung it up on the hook. Instead of answering, she walked into your kitchen.

“What were you cooking?” She asked.

“Pasta, but it can wait,” the blonde gave you a pointed look.

“Sit,” she put her bag on the counter and washed her hands. “You got shot for me. The less I can do is cook dinner.” You had no energy to argue, so you grabbed your water bottle and the bottle of ibuprofen. The hospital prescribed you more potent pain medication, but those scared you. “To answer your question, yes, it is safe. The group that man was a part of won’t bother you or the cafe again.”

“Did you kill them?” You asked. The water began to boil, and she put the pasta in. “I don’t mind,” you said. It would be hypercritically if you did. “Just curious.” She turned to face you, leaning against the counter. Her green eyes scanned over you.

“You handled the situation at the cafe well,” you chuckled, scratching the bag off your head.

“Not well enough. I did get shot.” She smirked.

“Who are you?” She asked. Your eyebrows shot up to your hairline.

“I feel like I should be asking you that very same question,” she chuckled, turned to grab her bag, and pulled out a file. The blonde threw it in front of you. With shaky hands, you opened it. It was everything HYDRA did to you and everything they forced you to do. You so desperately wanted to forget that part of your life, so when you escaped, you got a new identity and a mundane job as a barista. “You’re a Black Widow, right?” You wanted to confirm what that man told you. She nodded her head. “They would always tell us about you and compare your conditions to ours. They kept saying it could be worse.”

“I bet both were horrible,” she mumbled. You nodded. “I heard about you. HYDRA’s Shadows. They said you died.”

“It’s because I did,” she drained the pasta and placed it back in the pot with the sauce. “The Shadow died, and she was reborn as a cafe barista.” She put a bowl in front of you with a fork. “What’s your real name? Because I know it’s not Kate.”

“Yelena,” she answered. Honestly, you were surprised she gave it to you. “I’m sorry for involving you and your coworker. I should have realized they were following me.” You shrugged. It was unfortunate that two of your regulars were killed, but you knew the situation could have been worse. “You got out of this life,” she said. “I shouldn’t have dragged you back into it.”

“Why are you still in it?” Yelena looked around your apartment instead of answering.

“It looks like Christmas threw up in here,” she said. “I’m guessing you decorated the cafe.” You spun in the chair to look at your decorations.

“I love Christmas,” you told her, glancing over your shoulder. “I wish it could be Christmas every day.” She scuffed, and you turned back around. Yelena was stirring the pasta in the bowl. “How long are you going to stay?” She sighed, moving her shoulders up and down.

“Not sure.”

“Stay with me then,” her head snapped to look at you. “Look, you clearly don’t have any other pressing plans, and I did get shot for you; you kind of owe me.” She remained silent, but a smile crept to her lips. Celebrate the holidays with me.” The blonde huffed.

“I’d have to go get my dog.”

“I love dogs,” and you did. “We can go ice skating and watch Christmas movies.” You could convince her to walk away from the life she was living. Even when she smiled, she seemed sad.

“I like hot chocolate,” Yelena said. “We better drink it every night if I agree to this.” With a roll of your eyes, you held out your hand.

“You got yourself a deal, Yelena,” she smirked and took your hand. You were surprised at how soft her hand was against yours. Her skin was cold, and you enjoyed how her hand felt in yours.

*

Christmas Eve

“Are we wearing these?” Yelena asked, emerging from your bathroom in the plaid PJs you got for her, you, and Fanny. The American Akita ran over to her owner. “Awe, you look so cute,” the blonde cooed over her dog. It’s been over a week since Yelena came into your life, and you filled it with everything Christmas and holiday-themed. It didn’t take a genius to notice Yelena’s aversion to the Holiday, but you wanted to give her a Christmas she would remember. So you went ice skating, drank your weight in hot chocolate, baked cookies, and watched the cheesy Christmas movies. It was amazing. You forgot how enjoyable life could be when you had someone else to enjoy it.

“Hey, what about me? I’m the reason she looks cute,” the blonde straightened up to look at you.

“You get no compliments since you are why I’m in this,” you rolled your eyes.

“Just get your ass over here. Your hot chocolate is getting cold.” You heard her run over to sit down next to you. Fanny made her way to the dog bed you got for her. Yelena began to load up her hot chocolate with toppings- she had such a sweet tooth. It was disgusting sometimes. “For the record,” you said. “I think you look cute.” The blush that covered her cheeks was your favorite color on her. As Christmas approached, you weren’t hiding how you felt about the blonde. You openly flirted with her, doing anything to see her blush. Sometimes, she would give it back, come up with her flirty comment, and take you by surprise. Then you thought your friendship with her would take the next step, but she was the one to pull away. It was easy to fall for Yelena. She was witty, beautiful, and understood the horrors of your past. She looked at the world with such childlike wonder and curiosity that you couldn’t help but fall in love with her. You knew you had to be patient, but you feared that she would pack up and leave as soon as the holiday was over.

“What movie are we watching?” She asked, sipping on her hot drink.

“Home Alone,” you answered. It was your favorite movie, so you waited for Christmas Eve to show them to her. You turned the volume up and pressed play.

It wasn’t long into the movie when you noticed something was off with Yelena. Usually, she would be making comments about the plot or the characters. It made you laugh and added to the movies you already loved. Quiet Yelena was never good. She was so lost in her head. You paused the movie. She wasn’t fazed that it stopped. “Hey,” the sound of your voice snapped her out of it. “Where did you go just now?” She sighed and grabbed your hand. You learned early on that Yelena needed physical touch to be grounded. You woke her up from a nightmare, and you were startled when she grabbed onto you. She played with the bracelet on your wrist.

“You asked me a question that I didn’t answer. Do you remember what you asked me?” You had no idea. You asked the blonde many questions about her parents, Natasha, and her life. Some she answered while the others were answered with only silence. She smiled softly. “It was the night I came over and made pasta.” It clicked. She knew you remembered by the way your hand tensed up. “Ask me again.”

“Why are you still in it?” A life that was covered in red. Red was blood, violence, and anger. For the longest time, red was a color you avoided. The simplest of things would trigger a spiral for you. Instead of staring at a ketch bottle, it was a pool of blood from a bottle you used to smash against a man’s head. A no-name man you killed because he was in your way. But he had a name, a family that had to mourn and bury his body.

“Because I have no one to pull me out of it,” she turned to look at you. Her green eyes were glossy with tears. “This life is all I have, so what do I do if I leave?” You used your free hand to wipe a tear down her cheek.

“Let me pull you out of it,” you whispered and moved to sit before her. Her legs were crossed, and you undid them so they rested on either side of you. “And you live.” You answered. “You find out who you are without their claws in you. It takes time, and it’s messy, but I will help you. If you let me,” you raised the hand that she held onto and kissed her palm. There was a slight hitch in her throat. You placed her hand on her cheek, and a shiver went down your spine as her fingers drew shapes on your skin.

“I’ve dreamed of opening a dog rescue,” she said. “I like dogs.” You laughed. Your neighbor had a corgi puppy, no more than a year old. You offered to take the pup on walks now and again, and the blonde was in love with it.

“Oh, I know, sweetheart,” again, the blush covered her cheeks as she guided your face closer to hers. “You’ll have to leave Valentina,” you said against her lips.

“Will you help?”

“Always,” you said and connected your lips with hers. The kiss was slow. She tasted sweet from the hot chocolate decorated with whipped cream, chocolate sauce, and sprinkles. The taste was so Yelena it made you sigh into the kiss and wrap your hand into her blonde hair. She pulled away first; your chest was heaving at the relation. You kissed her. You finally knew what it felt like to have your lips on hers.

“Shit,” she whispered. You laughed, head falling on her shoulder. You kissed the skin you could reach and felt her shiver against her. “Come on, we have a movie to watch.” There were other things you wanted to do besides watching a movie you’ve seen a thousand times, but you pulled away from her and sat back down. Surprisingly, she took the remote and cuddled up against you. You put your arm around her, pulled the blanket over the both of you and stole a kiss as the movie began to play. It was hard to pay attention when Yelena was so close to you. “Will you help me get away from her?” She softly asked. You hummed, moving your fingers through her blonde hair.

“Yeah, I will,” you said. “Don’t think about it right now,” you saw the stress in her body and rubbed her temples. “No stress on Christmas. It’s against the rules.” She chuckled, grabbing your hand and interlocking her fingers with yours.

“Merry Christmas, detka,”

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart.” You knew very little about Valentina Allegra de Fontaine besides that she was the Director of the CIA with hundreds of contacts. It would be hard, borderline impossible, but you realized who would do anything for the Black Widow in your arms. Yelena turned to look up at you; you were already looking down at her.

“You are thinking hard, dorogoy; I can see the smoke coming out of your ears,” you chuckled and tickled her sides. She laughed, and the sound was music to your ears. She sat up, swung her leg over you, and sat on your lap. Your eyes widened at the sudden action as your hands went to her hips. “Is this okay?” You nodded, unable to find your voice. The movie turned to white noise. “Tell me what’s wrong. I thought you said no stress on Christmas.” You smiled, and she ran her fingertips over the lines on your forehead. You sat up more, wrapped your arm around her waist, and rested your head on her shoulder.

“I’d do anything for you, Yelena Belova,” you whispered, kissing her cheek. “Anything to see you happy.” You felt her hands on your head, forcing you to look at her.

“Don’t lose yourself for me.”

“I already got shot for you; what’s another one?” You teased, but the blonde frowned. “I won’t,” you promised instead. She placed her hand over your heart.

“Tell me,” she said, looking at where her hand rested on your chest. “How did you keep your heart.” You hummed, not fully understanding her question. “You kept your heart good after everything they put you through. How?” You sighed and placed your hand on top of hers.

“I had to keep it good so I could give it to someone,” her mouth hung open.

“I’ll keep it safe for you.” She said, kissing your cheek and then your lips.

“And I’ll keep yours.”

#yelena belova x reader #yelena belova x you #yelena belova x female!reader #black widow x reader #black widow fanfiction #yelena belove x you #yelena belove x reader

[vivwritesfics]

Okay bonus bc you asked for Christmas/winter break ideas! What about Oscar taking Lando & reader to experience and Aussie Christmas and they’re just on the beach and bbq-ing etc and they can’t get over how different it is from uk Christmas’s 🤣

"Okay so we're starting at mine with my family, mum will do the traditional roast and then we do a family walk on the beach. And then we head off to Landos for a second round of British Christmas and then, by the end of the week, we're off to Australia for Oscar to give us the traditional Australian Christmas. Sound like a plan?" Asked Y/N as she flipped through her diary, laying the plan out before her boyfriends.

"Sounds good to me, baby," said Lando as he leaned back in his seat.

Oscar took a moment to look through Y/Ns plan. "This is a lot of travelling. Are you guys sure you're okay with that?"

They nodded their heads as they looked at their Australian. "Definitely, Osc. I seriously can't wait to experience my first Australian Christmas," Y/N said as she wrapped her arms around him. She ran his hands through his hair, pushing it away from his face and used it to tip his head back and give him a quick kiss.

First they had to get through Y/Ns British Christmas. Her family wasn't very understanding of their relationship, and it had taken a good year but they'd gotten used to it now. Now they said nothing, Y/N father would just give them funny looks. They had the roast dinners Y/Ns mother prepared and took her nieces and newphews on a rather cold beach walk. All three of them were wrapped up warm, with Lando and Oscar wearing their Mclaren caps.

And then it was off to Lando's. His Christmas was much the same as Y/Ns, but his family nicer and they didn't do a freezing cold beach walk.

And then they were jetting off for Australian Christmas and New year's. The light was long, with Y/N napping against Lando as he and Oscar watched a movie (but, in no time at all, they were sleeping too, the three of them all laying against each other).

Things were hot when they landed, not like they had been in England. Oscar was so excited to take Y/N and Lando to his parents. They'd met his mum during the season (and she loved the two of them) but they hadn't yet been to his place in Australia.

On the first night they had a seafood barbecue. Only half of thr barbecue had fish, the other had was regular (because they had fussy britches with them). Oscar had on his shorts and flip flops (or thongs) on as he barbecued, showing off his skills. "Looking good, Osc," Lando grinned as he watched him, sweating as he slaved over the barbecue.

Oscar blushed red as Y/N and Lando grinned at him.

The next day, Christmas day, they went for a swim. The water was lovely as Y/N, Lando and Oscar swam in the Australian sea. It was wonderfully refreshing, considering Lando and Y/N would usually be in their pyjamas, wrapped up warm under blankets as they drank hot chocolate.

There was backyard cricket and a traditional Christmas dinner. Barbecue, cold ham and turkey, potato bake and alcohol. They had pavlova and trifle with beer to top it off.

At the end of the night, Lando, Y/N and Oscar sat on the beach, staring out at the seas. It was the first time they'd managed to be alone since arriving in the land down under. "How have you guys enjoyed your first aussie Christmas?" Oscar asked, his arms wrapped around them.

"Absolutely loved it," Y/N said as she dug her toes into the sand.

"It was brilliant, Osc. Thank you," lando said and kissed him.

#lando norris #lando norris imagims #lando norris x reader #lando norris smut #lando norris x reader smut #lando norris fluff #lando norris x you #oscar piastri #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri smut #oscar piastri x reader smut #oscar piastri fluff #oscar piastri x you #formula one #formula one imagine #formula one x reader #f1 #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formuma 1 imagine #formula 1 #formula 1 x reader #landoscar imagine #landoscar x reader #poly!f1 #ln4 #op81

[opposums-love-arson]

Scream Queen Book 1: Conventional Final Girl

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Stu Macher x Reader x Billy Loomis

Okay so basically let's just cut to the chase, the main character "(y/n)" is Sidney Prescott's little stepsister, yeah? Well, what happens when she takes Sid's place as the final girl? A whole lot. Disclaimer: All rights reserved to the copy righted owners of the Scream franchise. The only creative input I had in this fan fiction was the part of (y/n), almost everything else can be found in the movie. Follows the movie very closely. I mean the actual movie, not the script. Obviously switching out some parts to fit the narrative. It takes a couple of chapters to really get it kicking but I promise it gets good. *NO SMUT* these are still high school students and I do not want to overtly sexualize KIDS! And if you make the argument of "I'm not a kid" I'm 18 been there, done that, don't try it.

  "Hello, who is it?" I asked into the large telephone. 

"No one in particular..." Sounds like another one of the boys' prank calls.

"Okay Mr. No one in particular, any reason for the call?" 

"No reason in particular, just wanted to talk." 

"Hmm okay then talk," I said as I swiveled around in my chair.

"What's your favorite scary movie?" The raspy but oddly pitched voice asked. 

"Oh I've got plenty but you might want to sit down, it'll take a while." 

"I've got time." 

"Ya know, stuff like Halloween, Friday the 13th, Texas Chainsaw. Then there's creature features like The Thing. B-horror like Slumber Part Massacre or Sleepaway Camp." I finally finish my rambling when I hear my step sister and her boyfriend in the other room. 

"Do you really like scary movies?" 

"Oh yeah definitely but I think it's mainly because of my step sister's friends?" 

"Oh yeah?" 

"Yeah, I mean I always liked horror but they really got me into it. Especially our friends Randy, Billy and Stu, they're crazy about that stuff!" I said as I flopped down onto my bed. 

"What's a pretty girl like you doing with all those guys?" 

"They're not a lot of guys, if anything it equals out our group," I said, completely avoiding the whole 'pretty girl' thing... that was kind of weird. 

Hearing a knock at my door completely startled me. 

"Oh um hey I have to go but feel free to call me back anytime," I whisper into the phone quickly placing it back on the body. 

It was obvious the person on the line was saying something before I hung up but I didn't bother to listen 

  In popped Neil's head from the other side of the door. "Hey kiddo who ya talking to?" He said as he looked around. "Hm? Oh no one, what's up Neil?" I asked, now back in my desk chair. Neil was a good guy, I'm glad he and my mom started dating, they actually just got engaged! I think I was more excited about it than my step sister, Sindey, she's still grieving. "Just got done talking to your sister, I'm going to hit the sack, remember I'm not back until sunday. Cash on the table and call if you need anything," He said waiting for me to say something. "Alright got it Neil, have fun at the expo!" I waved him off before he closed the door. 

  My mom and I didn't move to Woodsoro until she really started dating Neil. It's always just been her and I for as long as I can remember, but it feels good to be part of a complete family again. I missed our old home at first with all my friends and family but Sid quickly took me under her wing. I met all of her friends including Stu, Tatum, Randy and Sid's boyfriend Billy. I'll admit it was weird at first because they just saw me as the little step sister but once Randy and I went on a ranting debate about which was the real pioneer of Slasher; Texas Chainsaw or Black Christmas, it got a lot easier. Even though Stu and Billy were pretty cute I'll never be used to Stu's wild energy, nor Billy's slightly shady behavior.

  The next morning didn't go quite as expected... There were reporters, cameras, and news vans posted up all around school. Sid and I were freaked the moment we got off the bus. She was looking around bewildered by everything going on until we spotted one woman in particular, Gale Weathers. To say the least, Weathers was a total bitch towards Sid's mom's name. 

"Can you believe this shit?!" We heard a voice pop up from behind us. Sid totally jumped. 

"Tatum, what is going on?" Sidney asks, waving her arm out to the school. 

"Yeah, since when was Woodsboro flooded with reporters?" I looked over at Tatum, crossing my arms over my chest. 

"You don't know?" Tatum asked both of us, a hint of amusement on her face.

"No," Sid and I said in unison, still confused. 

"Casey Becker and Steve Orth were killed last night," She said with a harsh but light tone just above a whisper. 

"What?! No way!" Sid softly exclaimed. 

I was too shocked to say a single word so I just listened. 

"And we're not just talking killed, we're talking splatter movie killed. Ripped open, from end to end," Tatum talked about it with entertaining ease, like it was just gossip. 

I think I'm going to be sick. 

"Casey Becker, she sits next to me in English," Sid said looking over at her best friend. 

I think you mean sat, Sid. I thought. 

"Not anymore," Said Tatum with a wobble of her head. 

She went on saying, "It's so sad, her mom and dad found her hanging from a tree. Her insides on the outside." Shoving her hands near her stomach. 

"Oh my god," Sid said as she reached for the back of her neck, probably to feel the goosebumps that appeared. 

"Do they know who did it?" I finally asked, feeling the urge to know. 

The two looked over at me with Tatum saying, "Fucking clueless, I mean they're interogating the entire school? Teacher, students, janitors." 

"They think someone at school did it?" Sid asked

"They don't know, I mean Dewy was saying this is the worst crime he's seen in years. Even worse than-" Tatum paused when I nudged her side, "Well, it's bad." She finished. 

The bell signaling the start of the first period rang.

"C'mon Sid, we gotta get to class..." I said as I lightly grabbed her hand, giving it a slight reassuring squeeze. 

"Yeah, alright..." She responded, removing her hand from mine. She's just going through a lot right now. 

  Sitting through the first period is weird when you have a seat that was right behind a dead person. Not Casey Becker but Steve Orth. He'd ask me for a pencil or notes every day because he forgot his. Claimed it was because of football practice. Soon enough the five minute bell for next class rang. A class that didn't have any dead students.

  Walking to my locker to rotate my books I was blocked by none other than Stu Macher. 

"Hey, (y/n)," He drawled out my name with a big smile, "Whatcha up to?" 

"Getting my books Stu, same thing you should be doing." 

"C'mon, you're not still upset with me, are you?" He asked with a fake pout 

"Yeah actually I am Stu!" I shouted in a whisper 

"I couldn't help myself, I mean look at you?" He said as he squished my face. 

Swatting his hand away I said, "That's no excuse!" 

"You can be such a prude," he said as he leaned his head on my locker. 

"No, it's called being a good friend with a balanced moral compass that can see when her friend's boyfriend is about to cheat with her." I huffed as I slammed my locker door. 

"C'mon, (y/n)! You can't stay pissed forever! You'll come around eventually!" Stu shouted after me. 

"Like hell I will!" I shouted back. No matter how abundantly clear my feelings for him are, I would never do that behind Tatum's back.

#scream fanfic #ghostface x reader #stu x reader #billy x reader #scream 1996 #billy loomis #stu macher x reader #billy loomis x reader #scream x reader #scream x yn

[chronically-ghosted]

you got your claws in me honey, like a tiger in love

rating: E for Explicit! 18+

word count: 8K

pairing: dieter bravo x f!reader

summary: you arrive at your estranged uncle's door. what else is there to do but catch up over grilled cheese? well, if you have anything to say about it, you might end up doing a bit more.

warnings: dbf!dieter, grilled cheese as a way to guilt trip your dad's best friend/uncle into fucking you, drug use (weed), raising arizona that comes with its own warning, flirting with someone twice your age, no smut — that’s what part 2 is for, reminiscing, a cliffhanger? 👀

a/n: the original fic came out MONTHS before the mcu rumors, so either i have precognition, or the apocalypse is becoming predicable. happy valentine's day you filthy animals because nothing says romance like porking your dad's best friend

🤍AO3 Link

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From the voicemail of Mr. Paul Landeau, official Hollywood talent manager and agent to one Mr. Dieter Bravo . . .

Tuesday, 6:43PM

No, I’m not doing it. I’m not. 

There has to be something else out there. Look, I know Fire Monsters: A Cliff Beasts story didn’t do as well as we hoped, but Reddit says it could be a cult classic so why don’t you focus on making that happen, okay? Instead of giving me shit roles like this. I’m not doing it. 

– the sound of a door opening and the phone being shuffled – – a zipper rips –  – liquid pouring –

We fucking talked about this, man. I told you I needed something different, something new. Tiktok is just reels of me screaming and dying – it’s fucking bullshit – 

– more liquid –

I’m done playing the fucking bad guy. I’m not signing any more headless action figures for those little snot-nosed, little fuckers in line. I’m not asking to sign their moms’ tits, either – okay, maybe – but Jesus Christ, Paul, what you sent over is, like, the opposite of where I need to be. It’s for little teeny boppers with one or two B horror movies under their belt to finally break out into the mainstream – or where actors over forty go to cash in an easy paycheck. And yes, I fucking know we need something, but fuck – is this really all there is?

– liquid stops pouring – – zipper rips – – the sound of a toilet flushing –

Don’t fucking call me back, Paul, unless you’ve got something. Something real.

Tuesday, 8:23PM

OW! Motherf–

– a skillet clattering – 

Okay – fuck, that hurts – okay, Paul, what about this? It came to me in the bathroom. Remember Jack from the Christmas party at the studio’s place? So, he’s got those two Sundance films, right, but they’re in Spanish, so not appealing to an American audience. Nicki told me that he’s thinking about doing another project, one with a wider appeal, and I’m thinking I should totally give him a call. I think we could vibe. I really liked his stuff – reminded me of my old small town, fucking around with the neighbor kids, you know? Kinda hometown hero sort of thing. 

– sharp inhale then a cough – 

It’s not my usual thing, but I think we should give it a try. Gimme a call. 

Oh, do you know how to make a grilled cheese sandwich? Been craving one but I think I might burn down my house if I try again and UberEats doesn’t reach the good places further south. Oh, fuck, wait – 

Hey Google, how do you make a fucking excellent grilled cheese?

Tuesday, 9:21PM

No, fucking– 

Siri – how.do.you.treat.a.burn? 

Calling. . . Burger King . . .

No! Fuck!

Tuesday, 10:49PM

Paul-y! Baby! Paul-ito!

Don’t worry. I got an idea that’s going to make us a million dollars. 

A shop that makes only grilled cheese. But like – fancy grilled cheese. What do the kids fucking call it, ah – boogie – yeah, boogie grilled cheese. Like gouda and white cheddar, and butter churned by blind nuns or some shit. Tomato soups that have been blessed by the Dalai Lama. 

Big sign out front that says, Vegans Can Eat Shit. 

They’ll eat it up. 

Fuck yeah, they will. 

– silence for three minutes and sixteen seconds –

Fuck acting, man. Fuck this place. 

And fuck this fucking cheese that keeps burning – goddamn it!

Tuesday, 11:52PM

Paul, why don’t we hang out anymore?

When I got started, we hung out all the time, man. 

Hot dogs on the Santa Monica pier. Beer in the Pacific Ocean. 

You showed me all the cool spots that no one else in LA knew about. You got me my first bump and my first stripper. God, that was fucking wild, man, you remember? I was so nervous I thought I was going to throw up. Did I ever tell you that before? Coke probably didn’t help a kid from a small town in South Cali, but – fuck, it made me feel better. Like I could get my shit together if I really tried.  

What, are you too good for me now – is that it? Am I not good enough for you, huh? 

Look, I’ve got Raising Arizona on right now, so why don’t you come over with a six pack – 

Oh, shit, that’s right. You got a fucking family now. 

Not a good influence, ol’ Dee. 

Not a good –

 

Wednesday, 1:05AM

Fine, Paul. Fine. 

I’ll play Mr. Fantastic in the Fantastic Four reboot. 

Dieter’s thumb brushes the red End Call button and tosses his phone onto the kitchen island with a growl. He can feel himself coming down from the bump earlier – a thing he absolutely did not want to happen – and he shoves his palms into his eye sockets. 

There is more coke upstairs, but that would require him to walk through his very long hallways to get there. Very long, and dark, and empty hallways. 

He should have asked Maria to stay once she was done with the laundry. He would have done it right too – big bowl of popcorn, fully dressed, with a sign around his neck that said, I promise I’m not trying to sleep with you. 

He is becoming increasingly aware of how many erratic voicemails he just left for his agent, aware that behavior like that was libel to get him a sit down in Paul’s office with all the blinds and windows closed, Paul’s narrow face serious and using Concerned Emotion #5, as he asks, “do we need to go back to rehab, Dieter?”

We. 

There once was a “we”, now there was just “he” – in a house with seven bedrooms and a pool that could fit a sixteen wheeler in it. 

And TWO kitchens – why the fuck did he think he needed two kitchens – 

Well, he knew he didn’t need two, but it would have been cool to show them off to someone – If there was anyone to show them off to . . .

Fuck this downer mood.

Dieter snatches up his phone again, and the movement brings up his latest apps. UberEats is the second one. He taps in a few keywords, blatantly ignoring his latest call list. 

Goddamn Burger King . . . 

The front doorbell rings. 

Dieter frowns, pulling the screen closer under his big nose. Now, he knows he is high and he knows he should be wearing his glasses when reading but there’s no fucking way . . .

He goes out of the kitchen, the room still smelling of burnt cheese with the cast iron skillet in the sink and a black husk sticking to its bottom. He goes left, then right, his robe tightly wrapped around him as if he is some huffy housewife, then down a hall and across the marble entrance way – fuming – why is this house so goddamn huge – who thought this was a good idea?

And so he wrenches open the front door – to a girl, not holding a Burger King bag. No, she’s got a roller suitcase behind her, bright blue, and she and the case are dripping wet. Like, just sprayed with a hose kind of wet and her big bottom lip is trembling. Behind her, the sky pukes buckets of rain, groaning with thunder. 

Now, he likes his call girls (he always thought it was classier to call them that) a little more . . . vampy than this, but hell, he had been turned on by much less than this— than her with her big eyes, fat droplets rolling off her lashes, flushed cheeks – and oh, shit, her shirt is totally see-through – is that purple, he feels the back of his mouth flush with spit – wow, is this Paul’s way of apology because – 

“Uncle Dee?” 

And he’s mentally shoving himself back into his pants because no one in years has called him that and that was a very different time in place, when he was a completely different person and if this girl is the person he thinks it is, then – Jesus Christ, he’s bound and gagged straight for hell – 

He squeaks out your name and you smile, sort of grimace, at him and wave. 

“Yep, it’s me. Been awhile, right?” You finally give into the mortification of your stupid plan and you scrunch up your face, your hand wrapped around your elbow. “Look, I’m so sorry, this is too weird. I don’t have your number, but I panicked when my flight got canceled and my phone’s dead and you’re the only person I know in LA and –,” 

“No, no – you’re fine – sorry–,” Dieter blinks before stepping back and letting you through. You sigh in relief and yank your baby blue suitcase over the threshold as you walk in, dripping water everywhere. “Sorry, it’s been a weird night and for, like, two seconds, I thought . . . nevermind . . .”

I thought you were a fucking ghost.

You bite the corner of your lip, glancing at him, knowing it was probably unwise to piss off your one chance at not sleeping on the ground tonight — or if what you were about to say would piss him off in the first place. 

“Yeah, well, it’s been eleven years since we last saw you, Uncle Dee.” 

Early on in his career, he wanted to build up rep as not only an actor but a real tough guy, so he asked if he could do some stunts for an old cop show. For all his bravado, he ended up getting a real round-house kick to the face and it sent him reeling.

This feels a little bit like that.

“No way, it can’t have been that long. Besides, I know I left my number with your dad or your grandma before I left and —,” 

His throat closes up when very old guilt washes over him. It’s intensified when you give him an uncomfortable look.

“So your dad didn’t give you my number then.”

It’s not a question. You shake your head. You don’t tell him that your dad tried to call years ago and got a busy tone for the first few, and then a few years after that, was brusquely informed the line had been disconnected. 

He chews on his lip. 

You try to smile at him again but then another shiver takes hold of you and Dieter grimaces. “Shit, sorry, one second. I think this closet down here has towels.” 

He all but sprint-walks down one of the many halls branching off from the entrance, the ends of his robes flapping. You hear the creak of doors, several, as he digs around in the walls. 

“Why do I have so many fucking linens?” You hear him grumble and you smile to yourself. You feel like you need to wring your hair out but wouldn’t dare move from the spot where he left you.

After a thump and more grumbling, he comes back, rubbing the back of his head, but holding out a giant lime green towel. In the light, you can see the dark circles under his eyes when you take the towel and immediately go to stop your hair from dripping on the marble.

His brain is waffling, ping ponging, between his memories and what is standing right in front of him. This? This is the little girl, not his literal blood relative, but she’s Enrico’s kid – Enrico, a slugger and one hell of a outfielder since he was eight years old, whose mom made enchiladas like nobody else in the goddamn world – Enrico, whose house became like a second home, Ricky's family a better family than his own – this is the same girl who hoarded Skittles like a fiend, the same one who he took to the pool on the weekends in the summer, and the zoo during Thanksgiving break? This little girl – 

– is the same girl who is all legs under damp denim, eyes that could make Cleopatra fly into a jealous rage, and a fucking rockstar smile? 

And, holy shit, those tits –  

Dude, you cannot be checking her out. Dig deep and fight your fucking caveman brain. You’ve fucked up a lot in your life and you cannot do that right now. You cannot do that to Enrico. 

You cannot do that to her.

You notice him grimace as he squints into the light of the chandelier above you both. “So, uh, not that I mind, but, uh, what are you doing here? I mean –,” 

You laugh and it seems to echo in the empty house. “No, that’s a fair question. I was on a flight back from looking at colleges out east and my flight got grounded in LAX because of the storm. I absolutely don’t have enough money to stay in a hotel or rent a car and drive back home, so I needed a place to crash and call my sister to send me some money. And my stupid driver didn’t want to get flagged for harassing a celebrity, so he dropped me off at the corner, hence . . .”

You wave at yourself and inside his slippers, his toes curl, respectfully not looking at your damp legs and a definitely purple bra visible through your shirt. 

Your mouth suddenly capsizes. “Shit, is that okay, if I stay here for a night? I didn’t even think - I - I’m not . . . interrupting anything, am I?” 

Dieter chuckles, your expression undeniably cute, and he shoves his hands into the pockets of his robe. 

“Nah. Not unless you call making the worst grilled cheese imaginable a party.” 

At that moment, your stomach chooses to make the most aggressive growl in your entire life and you flush deeper than the cold outside. 

“Apparently someone thinks that’s a good idea,” you chuckle weakly, horrified that your body is actively trying to sabotage a normal conversation. 

Did it matter that you had posters of him in your bedroom when you were thirteen? That you went to midnight releases of every one of his movies? 

No. Not at all. 

“I got some food, mostly leftovers.” He worries at his lip as he realizes the only thing by way of something green in his fridge is the jar of olives he got for martinis. Even then, he has a sneaking suspicion he replaced the olive juice with vodka, but the memory of that night is entirely butchered. “But, uh, I’m sure we can find something.”

You smile at him. “Actually, grilled cheese sounds great.” 

“Only if you do it.” He smiles, honestly, when you laugh. “What? Don’t laugh — I’m serious. I can’t make a sandwich to save my fucking life.” 

“Pretty sure I can manage two slices of bread and cheese.” 

His eyebrows jump as his lips press themselves together and you watch the thumb-sized bare spot on his beard twitch.

“Yeah, that’s what you think and then your goddamn kitchen is on fire.” 

“Lemme change, do some rocket surgery and brain science, and then I’ll attempt to crack this grilled cheese thing.” 

“Okay, but remember we do have Chinese leftovers and I can definitely crush a microwave. This way.” 

You follow him through the halls, his shoulders loosening underneath the off-green fuzz, and you try and not to stare at the immaculately beautiful walls and expansive, clean floors, so your eyes wander, and then you’re trying not to stare at the immaculately beautiful man in front of you. 

You push away the thought that this house looks nothing like you’d expect someone like Dieter to have, as he leads you to the kitchen — all black and chrome and steel, like what a Norwegian serial killer would have — and nods to a door towards the opposite wall. He’s digging around for the last slices of white bread when he says,

“Bathroom’s down there. I’ll get it all ready, but I’m leaving it up to you. Can’t afford to lose another pan.” 

Your eyes finally drift down from the bare walls, unsure if you should be offended that nothing of the family back home is here, or accept that there was just nothing personal anywhere. You smile gently at him and nod in thanks. 

He watches you go, that bright blue suitcase flashing as loud as a tornado siren, and he shakes his head. God, he needs a drink but drinking also makes him horny and he needs every mental facility available to him if he wis going to make it through this night with his sanity still intact. 

Had it really been eleven years? He always meant to call up Enrico and the old neighborhood gang. He probably forgot about that last fight anyway – even if Dieter hadn’t – even if it wasn’t more than a decade ago. Mama Gonzales always said there’d be a place for him, even after his own father said acting was for maricos and drag queens. It always hurt more when the postcards from the Gonzales family stopped coming than when Mom stopped calling. And he always meant to send back a proper return address when he moved out of that crappy loft after his first real movie premiere but that was the 90s, and much of the 90s was spent between working shit jobs and drooling on the floors of rave warehouses. It wasn’t them specifically he didn’t want to see him like that, but anyone. Anyone who knew him before Dieter Bravo. 

Certainly not anyone who called him Uncle Dee —

Something flashes in the corner of his eye and he realizes he’s always fucking hated the fact that the a) the back of his house is just one big window and b) he never bothered to put in curtains. Because, the thing with windows is they reflect things — things like his pseudo-niece taking her top off in his guest bathroom. Reflected and in full color right across his kitchen island like the sexiest hologram that will haunt his fucking wet dreams until the day hell freezes over. 

Yep, that’s definitely your hips, your ribs, and okay—

Nope. Absolutely not. 

Dieter’s knees give out and he crouches (more like slumps) to the floor behind the island, his palms so far in his eye sockets he can only see stars.

Yeah, only stars. Focus on the stars, not the image of the curve of your gorgeous tits that’s running around his brain like a child with scissors and a Thanatos instinct off the fucking charts. 

Fuck, and he just wanted to get high and watch Nicholas Cage in a mullet. 

“Hey, I’m done. Dee, you still here?”

He stifles a groan and stands up. You smile at him, the wet jeans and agonizing white tank top gone, only to be replaced by a black Fleetwood Mac tshirt and — fuck, where are your pants?

You lower the handle to your suitcase and go to stow by the bathroom door. And that’s when he realizes you are actually wearing pants, black shorts that are practically hidden by the oversized t-shirt and are comically, hilariously, painfully small. He can’t actually see the curve of your ass as you walk around the side of the island but he is absolutely not going to let his gaze linger long enough to confirm. 

He clears his throat as you come to stand beside him. He gestures to the four pieces of white bread and a stack of Crafts American cheese. 

“H-h-have —,” he clears his throat again and his forebearers groan collectively in embarrassment. “Have at it.” 

You smile and tuck your hair over your ear before picking up the knife. 

“D’you have mayonnaise? Butter?”  

No amount of irredeemable hotness can distract him from that. “What? What do you need mayonnaise for? It’s grilled cheese.”

You cluck your tongue, an eyebrow raised. “Brain science and rocket surgery, remember? Don’t question the master.”

He can’t help but chuckle as he goes to his steel monolith of a fridge. 

“Jeez, sorry, I asked,” he grumbles playfully.

He comes back with an (thankfully) unexpired jar and tub of butter and you get to work. Silence stretches a bit too long, something Dieter has never been good with, especially with beautiful women. He loves running his mouth and sometimes he's found that the women liked it too. He resigns himself to sit across from you at the island, watching you spread mayonnaise on both sides of the bread. 

“So, uh, how are the folks? How’s your, uh, dad?”

You nod slowly and even though he hasn’t been around in eleven years to pick up on all your tells, he swears your hackles go up.

“Fine. All good. Dad’s still at the car repair shop — owns it now, actually. Makes decent money, I guess.” 

“You guess?” He hadn’t made it his life’s work to mimic the human condition to not recognize cagey language. 

You glance at him briefly before flipping over the last piece of bread and dropping a dollop of mayonnaise on top. 

“Yeah. I — uh, we haven’t — I actually haven’t talked to them in a while. Though if I had, I probably wouldn’t be here right now.” You sneak another glance, this one ladened with a smile that had a secret curled up in its corners. “Serves me right, probably.”

“Yeah. Probably.” 

He can’t help but return the smile, one of a familiarity he hasn’t earned yet. You were smiling at him as if you two had years of secrets together, memories and inside jokes that were for the pair of you alone. For the life of him and all the water in his ridiculous pool, he couldn’t fathom why you were being so nice to him. Letting him off the hook. It had been eleven fucking years after all. There are a lot of things he takes guilt free from the world. Your fucking star-eyed smile is not one of them. 

So, he lets you off the hook. He doesn’t push it. If you don’t want to talk about your folks, he is happy to chatter aimlessly about something else. But, his brain winds up, what happened that caused you to fall out with your parents? Enrico, even back then, had been a hard ass, with you and your brothers. Always made sure to walk the straight and narrow. Detested drugs, always shined his shoes, thought tattoos were the devil, never kissed a girl on the first date — 

And here you are, making fucking mooneyes at his daughter. 

Well, one thing was for sure, he muses, something warm spreading in his gut, you are nothing like your daddy. 

The hiss of the bread hitting the hot butter in a pan (you didn’t even need to ask where another pan was, you just helped yourself to his cabinets and he couldn’t have been more proud) jerks him out of his daze and he realizes that annoying silence has set in again. 

“So, colleges, huh? Anything in particular spark interest?” 

You nod excitedly as he found a topic that made you glow. Clearly, no one had asked about your interests in a long time.

“Yeah, actually. Emerson in Boston was amazing. I loved the city, but not sure I’d survive the winter. Swarthmore sounds good, Amherst too, but again, cold.” You grin sheepishly and flip the sandwiches, pressing the spatula (he didn’t even know he owned one of those) into the bread, making the butter sizzle and the air fill with a smell that can only be described as mouth-watering. 

“It’ll be a nightmare, taking out loans for those places, but fuck, I think I’d be really happy there.” 

He leans against the counter, facing you with crossed arms. He smiles a smile that he knows doesn’t reach his eyes.

“What, your folks wouldn’t pay for it? Or at least help out?”

Something sharp flashes in your eyes, like a rabbit catching the scent of a predator, before you shrug your shoulders flippantly. A well-worn deflection, he notes, right next to the place where he’s got all the places you mentioned are about as far away from California as possible. If you had mentioned somewhere in Europe, he wouldn’t have been surprised. 

“Nah. I wouldn’t let them. Don’t want them thinking they get input into my life because they hold the purse strings over my head.” You turn off the stove and he moves to get the plates out from the cabinets – something to contribute as you made him a better meal than he’s had in ages. 

“So, uh, we eat in there?” You glance down the hall to the eerily clean dining room, a place he’s pretty sure he’s never once set foot in after three years of living in this goddamn mansion. 

He chuckles and shakes his head. “C’mon, I already have a movie picked out.” 

You follow him, plates hot, down carpeted stairs to clearly the only room in the house that Dieter actually lives in. The lights down here are low, much more bearable than the white spotlights of the kitchen. Against one wall, there’s a fully stocked bar, with most of the alcohol halfway empty and costing a fortune. Across from the stairs is a massive record collection, going up to the ceiling, next to a gorgeous old record player — all wood and black vinyl — with big, plushy earphones curled up on a black leather recliner. 

But the star of the show is the wall-to-ceiling television, with a brown, mouse-soft leather sofa that wraps like a giddy, up-turned grin in front of it. 

And of course, in between the superstar television and the cozy couch, is a low glass table where he had snorted lines of coke more times he could count and where a virgin joint sits, unsmoked and tempting. 

Dieter flushes as though he’d been caught by his parents with his pants down around his ankles. 

“Fuck, sorry–,” he rushes over, the plate clattering with the glass, and he reaches for the joint, ready to squish it into his pocket when– 

You laugh. “Relax, Dee, I know what a joint is. In fact, we are very well acquainted.”

You fold yourself into the couch, legs crossed, grinning at him as you bite into your sandwich. 

He swallows, unclenching slightly as he sits down next to you. He watches you eat for a moment, trying to think of something cool to say.

“Sounds like I’ve missed my calling as the fun uncle, getting you high for the first time and all that.” 

You snort and swallow your mouthful. “Yeah, by like two fucking years.” 

“Oh, what a fucking lifetime. You poor thing,” he says, pouting dramatically and you giggle again, bumping into his shoulder. It sends his sanity knocking around in his brain. 

You don’t notice, though, your eyes falling to the joint in the small ceramic bowl. The smile slides from your face. 

“Well, you might have missed my first joint, but I’d be more than happy to take this one as my next.”

His eyebrows practically bounce off his forehead. “You’re serious?” 

Your eyes slide away from the joint to his, something distractingly dark hiding there. “I mean, if the parties on your Instagram are anything to go by . . . And, well, when in Rome . . .”

You trail off, smirking, gesturing around you as if you had any idea the levels of debauchery that were obtained in this very room. Come to think of it, he halfway considers picking you up off the couch and putting a towel down underneath your perfect ass. 

This is how it went sometimes, with the slower hook ups. No wet clothes, or grilled cheese, or bringing up family trauma — but initial touches, curling smiles, and then drugs. Always drugs. As if there needed to be another hand that tore off the cap of the pressurized, fizzy soda bottle. He’d play music then, for them, to show off his vinyl collection and have a plausible reason to rub his dick between their ass cheeks while dancing slowly to something croon-y from the seventies. 

Not that any of that would be happening with you. 

He wasn’t a complete monster after all. 

With a playful grin that he had mastered over many press junkets, he snatches up the joint and lighter, and presents both to you in the flat of his hand. 

“First hit goes to you, since you were so kind to make dinner for an old fuck like me.” 

You snort and put your plate onto the table, wiping your hands free of crumbs on your black shirt. 

“Such a gentleman.” 

With deft and practiced hands, you take the joint between your index finger and your thumb, and sparking the lighter, brought the flame to your lips. 

Just for one second, one goddamn second, he swears he saw The Look reflected in your eyes. He glances away, his cock fluttering awake like goddamn Lassy hearing the calls of another well-begotten child. He picks up his own plate.

“Hardly. It was all a ploy to get you to admit you follow me on Instagram.”

You burst out coughing, smoke chugging from your nose and mouth. “Dieter!”

He cackles, his tongue between his teeth, as you shove him away from you — do not think about her fingers clenched around your bicep —  try to sit up and inhale again. You hang your head and groan. 

“Fuck, I can’t believe I said that.” 

“Yeah, and for that, I get two puffs,” he says out of the corner of his mouth, the rest of it full of the most perfectly cooked grilled cheese sandwich he’d ever had. He finishes chewing and swallows. “Hand it over, princess.” 

You hand over the lighter and the joint, the paper slightly greasy from your fingers, leaning back dramatically into one of the many plushy cup holder seats spread out along the very long couch. 

He chuckles devilishly again, far too satisfied, as he lights up and leans back into the cushions. 

“And, as gesture of goodwill, I’ll admit that’s a good fucking grilled cheese.” 

Your eyes snap open and a wide grin splits your face. “Hell yes! Mayonnaise on both sides, butter on the side with cheese. Best family recipe. Mwah!”

“Fuck, even I know that’s too much cholesterol for me,” he grunts and digs into the cushions, feeling around for the remote. 

“Well, that’s not enough cholesterol for me,” you wink as you take the joint from the hand on his thigh, eyes daring you to do something about it. Nowhere near high enough to take the bait, he just narrows his eyes at you as he clicks the button and the entertainment system comes to life with a primordial hum. 

“Jesus Christ,” you mutter, eyes wide, as the speakers roar and the lights dim further and the screen glows, “it’s like I’m in a fucking movie theater . . . in space.”

“It’s great, right?” Dieter moans like a loving father over his first child. This thing is his pride and joy, the only thing he could stomach in this goddamn house.

The DVD buffer for Raising Arizona begins and you squeal quietly, sliding onto your back, the joint dangling between your lips. 

“No fucking way, I love this movie.” 

Dieter stilled. “Really? You do?” 

The few times he felt nostalgic for his old life — his old, old life when he was still a kid from nowhere, a nobody, you couldn’t pick him out of a line up of his sweaty, grubby cousins when they were all cobbled together like crooked teeth in front of Abuela Josefina’s television that still had knobs and bunny ears to watch movie after movie of Nicholas Cage reruns. Even with knees in his back, elbows in his ears, Dieter could quote every single line, his heart swelling.

That’s gonna be me some day. 

“This movie is from, like, another century,” he mutters as he watches you settle in, something sickening like adoration clawing up in his chest. 

“Yeah and it’s great,” you say eagerly, ignoring the way he plucks the joint out of your fingers. “Put it on!” 

He resolutely ignores the pinch in his low stomach at your almost whine and presseS the play button with a little more force than necessary. Then, balancing the joint on the ceramic bowl, he sticks his fingers into his robe, pulls out his glasses, and puts them on without a second thought – just as he always did when watching movies. 

It is only when he realizes he doesn’t hear you breathing that he realizes what he has done. Slowly he pulls the square glasses off his face and looks at them, feeling as disgusted as the day his doctor put them in his hands. 

Near-sighted. Very common. Happens when people as they age.

“Got ‘em–,” his throat closes again, “got ‘em a few years ago. Only have to wear ‘em to see things up close and, uh . . . Well, I think they make me look old as shit.” 

He can’t quite look at you, unsure what he’ll see on your face and knowing for sure that he couldn’t stand it if it wasn’t the way you look at him before. If you just would tease him about it, then —

“No,” you say, your voice very soft and small. His heart nearly punches out his throat, his neck nearly snapping in half as his head whips up to look at you. You sit up on your elbows, the darkness of the room cushioning your soft cheeks and muting the glaze in your eyes as you watch him over the bend of your knees. 

“Nah,” you say, your nose scrunching, the weight of the high clearly settling into your skin, “they make you look . . . Uh, they’re cute.” 

Dieter sucks in the side of his cheek, nodding slowly and sliding the glasses back over his nose. Cute, he could work with that. 

“Jeez, would you start the movie already?” You poke his side with your toe. He doesn’t need to look at you to hear the faint blush in your voice. 

He turns the volume up and crosses his arms, smiling faintly. You’re warm next to him, he thinks vaguely, his own high finally starting to sink into his bones. 

Cute. Definitely not a word he’s going to obsess over. 

The movie goes on. 

Nicholas Cage is Nicholas Cage with a mullet.

Your laugh is the clattering of bells in his ears and he can’t remember the last time he laughed so hard his sides hurt. 

He’s coming up from bent over, knees almost to his chest, laughter nearly popping his ribs, when he realizes your feet are in his lap. The arches of your soles, the delicate bones of your ankles, the long smooth planes that run up to your gorgeous calves— 

They are there, in his lap, and you don’t seem to mind. Head turned towards the screen, face bright from laughing, your arm arched back over your head, pressing your chest up —  it’s like you meant for them to be there. 

It’s just one hand, right? Two at the most. Just putting his hands down where he had them a moment ago. Up and — down. 

You don't flinch. His palm is on the arched top of your foot, the other just above your other ankle. 

You do smile, but that might have been because of Nicholas Cage raging again. 

And then, during another bout of giggles, he clutches your shin bone, wraps his fingers around your heel, and laughs and laughs and laughs. 

You wipe the tears away from your eyes, the end credits rolling.

“Fuck, that’s a such a good movie.” 

He swallows, swiping quickly under his glasses before taking them off and chucking them onto the table in front. 

“You’re fucking right it is,” he says hoarsely, leaning forward and plucking up the last of the joint. He inhales, letting the smoke ease stifle the tears in the corner of his eyes, gulping down a breath before offering it to you.

You take it, distracted, eyes on the credits, the light from the screen glowing on your cheeks. 

He presses up under your ankle with his middle finger. “What? You knew what was gonna happen, you’d said you’d seen it before.”  

You nodded, still not looking at him. 

He goes for a more direct approach. He pinches your calf, and you scowl, the light back in your eyes.

“What are you thinking about?” He asks, a bit sharply. He’s not nearly done having fun with you, not nearly. You take another sip of smoke before setting the joint back on the table. 

You huff, settling onto your back, pinching at your nails. 

“Just . . . Nothing, it’s stupid.”

Dieter hums. He knows when to let him come to you. He taps the arch of your foot.

“How are you feeling?” His gaze nudges the joint on the table. 

You grin. “Really good. Tingly. Warm. Like everything else is a million miles away.” 

Just the two of us. 

“Enough to tell ol’ Uncle Dee what’s on your mind?”

You roll your eyes and sit up a bit, yanking a pillow behind you. 

“Just thinkin’ about the old days, I guess.” You glance up at him from under your eyes. “Not in a bad way. At all. I just . . .”

“What?” If you gave him hell for the last eleven years, then fuck it, he deserved it. He pulls at your ankle. “What?” 

With a big sigh, you lean back, something finally breaking and, with it, comes a great big smile. 

“Okay, remember when you’d put on those plays with the rest of us kids during those super lame family reunions o-o-or Christmas? Marissa would have everything written out, all the cousins cast and you’d beg her to let you play – fucking – Bear Number 5 or something ridiculous – and she’d fight you on it but she’d relent, always putting on a show of her own – as if a ten year old could be put out like that.” You giggled, biting on your thumb, a sparkling in your eyes that made something in his chest burn. 

Yes, he remembers the incredibly stupid fuzzy ears and the bear claw mittens. The fake roaring. TMZ would have a fucking stroke if those pictures of him, baby-faced, were to ever surface online. He smiles at you and basks in the warmth of those memories, his high making them brighter. 

“I think it would have crushed her little heart if you didn’t ask,” you said, heavy-lidded eyes on you again. “I know it broke her when you stopped showing up at all.” 

His heart actually pinches at that. He knows you’re not scolding him but fuck, maybe he’d feel better if you did. What a fucking idiot he was, for leaving all of that for empty mansions and meals from UberEats and all this fucking gunked up shit in his veins that made him feel older and older every year. Like he was chasing something that was never real in the first place. 

“Look, honey,” the pet name is out of his mouth before he can stop it. He’s twisting towards you, both hands under your calves now. “I should have called. Should have made sure that at least you knew where to find me, even if things between your dad and I were fucked.”

“Oh, God, Dee, no. I don’t blame you. I don’t even blame my dad, sometimes. You just were very different people. He’s fine living his life in the same small ass town in the middle of nowhere. But you weren’t. And, fuck . . . I’m not either.”

He frowns. You bite your lip and continue.

“You know, I thought about following you out to Hollywood. Because of those plays. I had the best fucking time doing them and Hollywood didn’t seem so scary . . . with Uncle Dee out here. But, uh, I dunno. I grew up, I guess. Figured I was better at telling stories than performing them. I just knew I didn’t want to end up like my dad. Dying where I lived. Unremembered.” 

His gut doubles in on itself. Please don’t say you gave up your dreams because I stopped calling. 

“Do you still think about acting?” He asks quietly, trying to fight the faint ringing in his ears. 

“Oh God, no,” you wave your hands, dusting away his near-panic that he’d somehow ruined your life. “I really do prefer writing stories, even if they exist only within the pages of a book. Or a really bad pamphlet, once or twice. I tried to continue the plays at home for a few years, after you left and Marissa took up cheerleading and thought she was too old to play with her little cousins anymore. But it just wasn’t the same without her. Or you.” 

He realizes all too late that he can feel your pulse under your ankle. Strong. Pounding. Pounding, hard. Like you’re nervous. So struck by the notion that he can feel something so personal of yours, the smoke trapped in his brain lifts only slightly when he catches your eyes looking somewhere you absolutely should not be. 

Oh, fuck.

Oh, fuck, he knows that look. You blink at him, then your gaze slowly slides down, down to his crotch, as smoothly you can beneath the weight of the smoke in your brain and he battles between the desire to throw your legs off him or pull you underneath him.

It’s The Look. 

Men, women, it didn’t matter. The look was the same.

When the possibility of sex first enters their mind, when that first bloom of lust rushes down their spine and the memory of the physical exertion of fucking – all the panting and the heavy breathing, aching muscles and sweat – comes back, as real as a song stuck in your head. When that spark of imagination threatens to sway from the hypothetical to the actual, it’s a look he knows so fucking well, he might as well be able to carve it from clay, blind-folded. 

And you’re giving it to him, right now. 

You haven’t really thought about seducing him yet, no, that part hasn’t crossed your mind yet. But you definitely are imagining what his cock would feel like inside you, and you and your imagination and your wide-eyed gaze at his lap all whole-heartedly agreed: that would be a great fucking thing. 

You, on your elbows, your heel dangerously close to his half-hard cock, the glaze in your eyes having something to do with what you were so shamelessly picturing, and your short breath having everything to do with what you were so shamelessly picturing.

He was quite sure you were completely unaware of the expression your face was making. Eyes hooded, mouth parted, breath short. Masking your emotions and filthy thoughts is a skill set mastered later in life and perhaps the last time you looked at someone like that, they simply bent you over the nearest surface and railed you till your knees buckled. 

What a fucking excellent idea, his libido trilled. Now get off the couch and do something about it. I’m foaming at the fucking mouth here, man. 

Dieter silences his inner horny monster, unintentionally squeezing his hand, the one that happens to be wrapped around your calf. 

The movement seems to break you out of your dizzying spiral and you blink up at him.

He swallows. With a half smirk on the edge of your lips that you try to not let him see, you take your feet out of his lap, then reach forward, your palm alarmingly high on his thigh as you take the joint from his fingers. Your eyes flash like warning signs.

DANGER. DANGER, WILL ROBINSON. DANGER.

“So, you gonna give me a tour of this place or what?”

End of Part 1 | Next

#dieter bravo #dieter bravo x f!reader #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #the bubble fanfic #the bubble 2016 #the bubble fic #the bubble fanfiction

[forever-rogue]

Omg what about a steve x reader where his parents dont even bother to be home for christmas so the reader plans a big christmas dinner / afternoon with all the kids and the teens and Steve gets to experience the holidays with a loving found family and maybe a mistletoe kiss too?

AN | Ooh, this idea is so cute 🥺

Warnings | Language

Pairing | Steve x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 3.4k

Masterlist | Steve, Main

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Merry Christmas!”

“Fuck!” Steve’s eyes grew wide as he found you standing in the doorway with a sheepish smile on your face. He softened when he saw that it was you, but remained poised with the knife in his hand. You raised an eyebrow at it, and he set it down with a small sigh, “I didn’t even hear you come in! Are you some kind of ninja?”

“Sorry,” you offered him a pretty little smile as you bounced over to him, standing on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips. His large hands settled on your waist as he pulled you closer, pressing soft kisses to your cheeks, nose, and forehead before stopping at your lips, “hey, my love.”

“Hi angel,” he brushed his against yours before sighing softly, “wasn’t expecting you till later.”

“Things wrapped up early at my aunt and uncle’s house,” you looped your arms around his neck, playing with the soft curls at the nap of his neck, “so I came to see you because I missed you and wanted to see you!”

“You saw me last night…”

“And I still missed you, Steve,” you whispered, causing him to blush shyly as a pretty rose pink settled in his cheeks, “cause I’m kind of in love with you, ya know?”

“I love you,” he promised, his brows quickly furrowing, “wait a minute - why Merry Christmas? It’s the day after Thanksgiving!”

“Exactly,” you nodded eagerly, “it’s Christmas now! So that means only holiday foods, Christmas music, and everything festive! And I had a brilliant idea.”

“Oh no…” there was nothing but soft affection between his words but you put your hands on his chest, “tell me then…”

“I was thinking we could go and get a tree today!” your enthusiasm was normally infectious but today you swore you saw his face fall, “and get an early jump on everything! My dad’s going to be traveling for work a lot this month so he won’t care what we do and I’m not sure about your parents-”

“They’re not going to be here,” he cut you off and there was a weird edge to his tone. He’d never snapped at you like that, and you recoiled from his touch, “and they never are.”

“I-I didn’t know,” your voice was soft as you took a step back from him, a frown tugging down the corners of your mouth, “I’m sorry, Steve. I didn’t mean-”

“No, it’s fine,” he shook his head before looking at you with apologetic eyes, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”

“‘s okay,” you touched his face, stroking over his cheek, “we’re okay, my love. How about we just stay in and watch movies today? Be all lazy and cuddle?”

“Yeah,” he agreed with a small smile, turning his head to press a kiss to the palm of your hand, “that sounds perfect.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You’d thought about what Steve had said for several days after. He had seemed so upset when you even mentioned Christmas that you made you loath to approach the topic again. This was the first holiday season you were spending together as a couple, and at all - you’d only meet him at the beginning of the year when you’d moved to Hawkins. You knew that his parents were absent and distant, but you didn’t know that had applied to the holidays too. 

You didn’t want to upset him further, so you’d ended up talking to his friends about it, and they were able to enlighten you. But…that didn’t make you feel any better. If anything, it made you feel worse. Steve Harrington, your golden-hearted and sweet boyfriend, had never had a proper Christmas. Not since he was a very young boy, and he didn’t even really remember that. It broke your heart; Steve did so much for everyone else, did so much to make things good for the ones he loved. He gave and gave and he really asked for so little in return.

But this year you were going to give him everything you could and make it the best Christmas ever. This year Steve was going to be the one that received, he was going to get everything that you had to give. And, naturally, everyone else was on board with your little plan.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“You still haven’t told me what we’re doing,” Steve’s gloved hand was holding yours, thick fabric wrapped fingers entwined as well as possible, “you could be taking me to get murdered for all I know.”

“Relax,” you gave his hand a squeeze as you slowed your walk down the block, “I would never murder you! I love you too much for that…”

“Then what’re we up to?” he raised an eyebrow in suspicion and you giggled at him, “you’re a devious little thing, you know that?”

“I have no clue what you’re talking about,” you insisted, leaned over to press a kiss to his wind-chapped lips, “but I do hope that you trust me…”

“Of course…”

“Good,” you started to pull him to the end of the block and didn’t stop until you were standing in front of the biggest tree lot in all of Hawkins, “then I hope you’ll help me find the perfect tree.”

“Baby…” he looked between the rows of lush, green trees before looking back at you, finding a soft, pleading little look on your face. As much as Steve wasn’t initially jazzed about the idea, he couldn’t say no to you, his angel, “are you sure?”

“Yes,” you promised softly, taking his other hand so you were holding both of them, “I know the holidays haven’t always been the best for you, Steve, but I want to change that. I want to start new holiday traditions with you - you’re my family Steve, and that’s what matters. Not what’s happened in the past, or anything, just now and us. I-I love you, and I hope you know just how much. But I also understand if it’s something you’d rather not do. I just thought it might be nice…”

“I want to,” he promised softly, and you could see the glossiness of his eyes, and the slight tremble of his pretty pink lips. You looked at him with hopeful eyes and he nodded before leaning in and kissing you gently, “I really want to. You’re some kind of magic, huh?”

“No,” you shook your head softly, “I just happen to love you so, so much and want you to have the best Christmas ever.”

You wiped away the few tears that had rolled down his cheeks. He reached for your hand and pressed a kiss to your knuckles through the gloves and all, causing you to chuckle lightly, “thank you.”

“There’s nothing to thank me for,” it was a soft, reverent promise, “now come on, the perfect tree is out there waiting for us to find!”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You took a step back and looked around the large living room, taking it all in. The tree was up and fully decorated, the fireplace was crackling merrily, with two stockings hung on the mantle, along with lots of other decorations. You'd managed to find a couple boxes of old ornaments and decorations tucked away in the Harrington attic and pulled them out, along with the new ones the two of you had picked out. The whole place was decked out and festive, warm with love and affection. 

Steve was finishing putting up the tree topper, looking at you to make sure it was placed correctly. You nodded eagerly, giving him a thumbs up as he started to climb off the small step stool, “wait! Stay there for one second.”

“What are you up to, silly girl?” but he remained rooted in place as you ran up the stairs, listening as you fumbled around for a few moments before running back down. You almost tripped over your own feet, “slow down or we’ll end up with a trip to the ER!”

“It’s fine,” you held up the polaroid and waved it at him eagerly, “I wanna take your picture! We can start a whole new scrapbook.”

His entire body flooded with warmth as you held up the camera and he grinned at you. For the first time in a long time his smile for a photo didn’t feel forced or fake, but it was large and genuine. You snapped the picture and pulled it out as soon as it printed, shaking it gently before setting it onto the counter. Steve climbed down and came over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist before gently picking you up and spinning you around, which caused you to giggle happily. 

“Merry almost Christmas, my love,” you whispered when he set you down. The two of you were looking at each with sweet, shy smiles before you leaned up to kiss him, “everything looks beautiful.”

“Still not as beautiful as you,” his smile was cheeky as you playfully huffed at him. He fought off any remarks as he gently kissed you, “merry almost Christmas, angel.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The best part of having absentee parents was that you could spend as much time at Steve’s as you wanted. At this point you basically lived with him, stopping by your place only when you needed some clothes. Otherwise you were practically glued to him; you were on winter break from college and you were taking full advantage of it. You’d get up early to make sure Steve had something to eat before work, often stopped in to bring him and Robin lunch at Family Video, and liked to have dinner ready by the time he got home. He insisted none of it was necessary; you reassured him that you knew but still wanted to do it for him. He’d never been cared for as much as he took care of everyone else, and you enjoyed getting to do these types of things with him. Any moment spent with Steve was worth it.

“I think we have everything now,” you set down a bowl of crushed peppermints onto the table. You were decorating gingerbread houses together, and had pulled out all the stops, making sure you had everything you could have dreamed of, “these are going to be the best houses ever!”

“And I’ll bet mine is even better than you could ever dream of,” he teased, sticking his tongue out at you. You rolled your eyes dramatically as he leaned over and kissed your cheek, “hate to break it to you.”

“Oh? That sounds like a challenge Harrington,” you grabbed some of the frosting with a determined look on your face, “it’s on. Don’t cry when I win.”

“As if,” but there was a pretty smile on his soft lips as the two of you got to work. There was soft music playing on the radio as you both worked on your little houses. 

The two of you worked happily, random conversations popping up here and there as the afternoon passed. Steve had started a fire that warmed the whole downstairs as snow lightly fell outside. The freshly baked gingerbread (yup, homemade - you weren’t cutting any corners this year) filled the house with delicious smells. You wouldn’t have changed a thing about that day. 

“All done,” you grinned happily as you looked at the little house you’d created. It was far from perfect, but still extremely cute and you loved it, from the cracked peppermint snow to the little marshmallow snowman you’d constructed, “whaddaya think, Stevie?”

“It’s cute,” he looked it over, rubbing at his chin thoughtfully as he silently appraised your work, “not bad for some amateur work.”

“Amateur work?” you feigned offense as you clutched at your heart, “I’ll have you know that this is easily professional level craftsmanship! Let me see yours then, handsome.”

“Here you go,” he turned his towards you and you couldn’t help the way your mouth opened in surprise. He had done an excellent job for someone claiming it was his first time; the house was well constructed and adorable with all the little candy decorations. He’d even created two little people that were in the little yard, “tell me it’s not perfect.”

“It’s…amazing,” you admitted sheepishly as he grinned happily, looking ridiculously cute, “I love it, Steve. I like the little people too, very creative.”

“It’s us,” he whispered, trying to gauge your reaction. When he saw how your smile grew he couldn’t help but relax, “us in the future in our very own house.” 

“It’s just missing a few things then,” you whispered as he raised an eyebrow, “like a dog or a cat and a couple of kids for starters.”

His big honeyed eyes studied you as your cheeks warmed up along with a sweet smile. A nervous breath escaped his lips as you nodded softly, “do you mean it?”

“Yeah,” you whispered, “if that sounds good to you.”

“More than,” he leaned over and kissed you, his lips capturing yours in a soft, saccharine little kiss before he rested his head against yours, “it’s perfect.”

“I think so too,” carding a hand through his hair, you gently scratched at his scalp as he leaned into your touch, “I meant it when I said you’re my family, Steve.”

“I know,” he closed his eyes and exhaled shakily, “I’m so in love with you.”

“Me too, Steve, me too.”

“And this totally means I won, right?” he asked as you laughed, shaking your head in amusement before nodding in agreement, “what’s the prize then?”

“Whatever you want, handsome.”

“I can think of a few things,” his hands settled on your waist as he pulled you into his lap, kissing you with a growing neediness and hunger, “including you.”

“Yes, please.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

On Christmas Eve you woke up early to soft sunlight streaming in through the gauzy curtains and Steve still sleeping soundly next to you. He had an arm wrapped around your waist, his face burrowed into the pillow next to you as he snored lightly. You pressed a soft kiss to his cheek before untangling yourself from his long limbs. He made a small sound of protest but didn’t fully wake up and sank back into the covers. 

You wanted to get a jump start on the way and tiptoed downstairs to start on some breakfast before wrapping some of the presents you’d acquired for Steve. They weren’t anything grand or over the top, but small, special things you hoped he’d like. The rest of the gang was going to come over in the afternoon to spend the day together, a surprise that no one had spilled to Steve through some miracle. You wanted this to be the most special of all, and what better way than to spend the day with all of your favorite people?

Whatever divine being was out there was on your side today because you had just finished placing the last of the presents under the tree and turning on the lights when he padded downstairs. He looked so pretty, despite having just woken up with sleepy eyes and wild bedhead. 

“What are you up to, hmm?” you flounced over to him and leaned in to kiss him, ignoring his protests about having morning breath. You brushed his hair out of his eyes before brushing your knuckles over his cheek. 

“Nothing,” you lied sweetly, “just got up early today, ‘s all.”

“Mhmm,” he quickly picked you up, causing you to squeal in delight as he walked to the kitchen where breakfast was just about ready, “you already did all of this?”

“Yup,” you grinned as he set you down on the counter, “wanted to have it all ready for you, my love. Happy Christmas Eve.”

“Thank you,” he bit the inside of his cheek as he ghosted his fingers along your jaw before resting his hand at the base of your neck, tenderly stroking the soft skin there, “this has been the best Christmas of my life. All thanks to you, angel.”

“Not all thanks to me,” you insisted, pressing a soft finger to his lips, “but this has been the best for me too.”

The two of you studied each other for a few moments, exchanging soft breaths and shy smiles, accompanied by soft kisses. Before you could get too lost in him, you put a hand on his chest before gently pushing him back, “we should eat breakfast before it gets cold and you end up taking me to bed.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” he teased as you slid off the counter and went to pour coffee, “never heard you complain before!”

“Oh, I’m not,” you insisted, grabbing his favorite mug, “but there’s much to do today! No rest for the wicked.”

“You’re up to something…”

“Me? Never,” you grinned sweetly, but he could see through your façade, “just…have things to do today.”

“Mhmm…” he didn’t believe you but wasn’t about to push either - he’d get it out of you one way or another.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You’d just finished showering and getting dressed - despite your insistence that Steve wasn’t taking you to bed, you hadn’t turned him down - when you heard the doorbell ring. You grinned as Steve looked at you in confusion, still finishing his hair. 

“I’ll get it,” you almost ran out of his room as he cast a curious look at you. He shook his head as he listened to you run down the stairs before he heard the creaking of the door. You grinned when you saw Dustin and Eddie accompanied by the rest of your friends, “hey guys! You’re just in time! He doesn’t suspect a thing.”

“Everything’s going according to plan for once,” Eddie handed you a bunch of mistletoe just as you had requested and you made a small sound of delight. You pressed a kiss to his cheek before stepping aside to let everyone in. 

Once the whole gang was inside, you heard Steve coming down the stairs. You all waited with bated breath as he realized that you were all here. His entire face lit up with happiness as he looked at everyone, “what’s all this?”

“Merry Christmas Steve,” you held your hand to him, motioning for him to come down. He eagerly took your hand, softening when you laced your fingers together, “it’s Christmas Eve and what’s a better way to spend the day than with your family?”

“Nothing,” he agreed, letting his friends all take turns hugging him, “this is wonderful you guys!”

The afternoon and evening was spent with lots of eating and playing some silly holiday games, while cheesy holiday movies played in the background. There really wasn’t anything that you could have thought of that was better. While you chatted with Robin and Nancy and Steve hung out with the boys, you could feel his gaze shifting back to you every now and then. It brought a smile to your face every time, making you feel all warm and fuzzy on the inside. 

It was late by the time everyone had left and you were thoroughly stuffed from all of the delicious and worn out from all of the festivities. You glanced around the kitchen as you took in the mess, letting out a small but happy sigh. Everything could wait until tomorrow, you decided. 

Steve was clearing some of the trash out of the dining room when you decided to put your little plan into action. You grabbed the mistletoe and held it behind your back as you stood in the doorway. Steve looked over and a smile crossed his features as he came over to you. 

He looked at you with the softest expression, “thank you for everything, sweetheart. Today was….it means the world to me, you know?”

“I’d do anything for you, Steve Harrington,” you promised, “but there’s one thing I’d like to ask of you.”

“Name it - anything.”

“Will you kiss me?” you held up the mistletoe as high as you could and looked at him with wide eyes as he beamed at you. He nodded softly, his hands finding your face as he leaned in and gently kissed you, right there under the mistletoe. He pulled back when you were both breathless and giddy, “merry Christmas, my love.”

“Merry Christmas,” he whispered against your lips, “the first of a lifetime together.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington imagine #joe keery #joe keery x reader #joe keery x you

[samgirl98]

Mending a Family 35/?

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When Jason was young, there had been no Christmas tree or decorations. They had been too poor for that. As Willis used to say, would you rather be warm or have useless shit lying around? Funnily enough, he always had money for booze.

 His mom, Catherine, used to take him to midnight mass every Christmas Eve. He used to love to go, not because he believed in God, but because he could spend time with his mom in a warm building. Even though his mother had sounded off-key while she sang Christmas carols, Jason thought she had sounded like an angel. The church would always be decorated for Christmas, and, at least for a little while, he could pretend he was like every other family, spending a Merry Christmas.

Christmas days didn’t have gifts, but his mom would give him gingerbread cookies while Willis slept off his hangover.

Then Willis had been arrested, money had become tighter, and his beautiful mother had fallen hard for drugs. The last few Christmases with Catherine Todd had not been spent in a church but in a rundown apartment while Jason cared for her.

Bruce was ethnically Jewish but not a practicing one. He didn’t observe the Sabbath, go to a synagogue, or celebrate any Jewish holidays. The only thing he did was light up his mother’s menorah every year.

He also ate Chinese food on Christmas day while waiting for Alfred’s dinner.

Jason’s first Christmas with Bruce had been full of decorations, with a massive tree with mountains of presents stuffed beneath it. Jason had had fun decorating with Alfred. Even Bruce had helped. Dick hadn’t shown up to celebrate Christmas with them. That year, Jason had fallen in love with Christmas. Not because of the presents, but because he had spent it with people he loved and who loved him back.

The following year, it had been spent in front of Titans Tower. He had wanted to bring Dick back home as a present for Bruce. It hadn’t panned out. The last Christmas in Wayne Manor had been celebrated with Dick, Bruce, and Alfred. There had been tension between Bruce and Dick, but they had put their differences aside.

The following year, Jason had gotten himself blown up. He didn’t know if he had been alive for that Christmas or not.

After that, he was in Nanda Parbat or out learning how to kill. Then came his explosive return to Gotham.

The whole point was that Jason hadn’t thought about Christmas in years. It was just another day alone.

This year, it was different. He had Danny, his son. He had a younger sister and two nieces. An older brother and an older sister. He had been tentatively excited. Then Jazz had sat him down and told him how much Danny hated Christmas. There was a lot of trauma around the holiday because the Fenton parents used to fight over the existence of Santa Claus, of all things.  

So before decorating, he had asked his son if he wanted to do Christmas or not. His little boy had hummed and asked if there would be any fighting.

The question had broken Jason’s heart.

“No, chum, no fighting allowed.”

“Good, cuz ghosts have the annual truce during Christmas time.”

(Jason filed that tidbit of information for later and had asked Ghost Writer about it.)

“Okay, if there’s no fighting or turkeys coming to life to kill me, then yeah, why not?”

Jason had blinked at the turkey bit. The fuck?

So, for the first time in a long time, Jason celebrated Christmas again.

They hadn’t gone all out. Jason had bought a small tinsel tree and put some wrapped gifts under it. There wouldn’t be a big dinner (Alfred cooked a huge dinner for the family) or Christmas carols. The only decoration they put up was a wreath at the door.

They never once mentioned Santa Claus.

Neither Roy, Lian, nor Raven came over. They had other traditions and people to hang out with. Jason had understood. In a way, it had been a good thing. He didn’t want to overwhelm Danny.

On Christmas morning, the little family opened the presents in pajamas and then spent the day watching Christmas movies and drinking hot chocolate. Instead of cooking, Jason ordered carry-out.

That night, while he tucked Danny into bed, Danny thanked him.

“For what, chum?”

“For giving me the best Christmas I’ve ever had.”

Jason kissed his little boy’s forehead and went to bed. It hadn’t been extravagant, but it had been a good Christmas.

Merry Christmas

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#mending a family #dc x dp #dp x dc

[heyhihellosworld]

𝗢𝗳𝗳𝗶𝗰𝗲 𝘀𝗲𝗰𝗿𝗲𝘁

Rúben Dias x reader

Word count: 2.3k

Summary: You and Ruben where adamant to keep your relationship out of work but things don't always go according to plan.

Warnings: Smut, fluff, angst

Notes: First one I post about Ruben but kinda liked it even though it's kinda messy and all over the place.

"Is Y/N in today?"

Lucy shook her head with a crooked grin, trying to bite in a smug smile "She will come in an hour or so" she proceeded to tell the Portuguese who nodded.

"Don't make things up Lucy" he muttered but a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

"Oh I am surely not Mr Dias" she smiled back, sitting back on her desk chair as he straightened up "Well, have a good day" he mumbled before hurrying up the stairs.

You knew you were late as you rushed through the entrance of the building, out of breath and stressed out.

"A certain someone asked for you this morning" Lucy grinned as you stopped at her reception desk. Hands full of your working bag, gym bag and files that you needed to go through after failed attempts at doing it during the weekend.

"Who?" you questioned, putting the bags down on the ground as you breathed heavily, being late to work was a bad habit but it did make your fitness better.

"Who do you think?" Lucy chuckled, folding her arms over her chest like it was the most obvious answer.

"Uh-uh Ruben?"

"Ding ding ding" she grinned, tapping her finger on the desk in tact with the sounds she did.

You rolled your eyes but couldn't help the little smile that tugged at your mouth. "Don't give me that look"

"I'm not giving you anything I am just asking you a question and pointing out something obvious"

You shook your head, warning her to continue. "I'm gonna go work, see you for lunch?" you hummed, picking up your bags and starting of to the stairs while she laughed at you "Don't try to hide the truth!" she shouted tempting you to flick her off behind your back but you held back and settled in your office. Putting the bags on the small chair by the door before settling in the spacey room which you proudly called your office.

Working as a PR manager for Manchester City had been a dream so far. Only being on the post for a month short you still had a lot to adjust to and a lot to learn but it had all been going great so far. Finding new friends by the staff and also befriending a few of the players. It was your dream job and landing it at your age was a dream in itself.

You spent the morning working through files of different events and matches. Writing player profiles and interview-templates.

The clock was about eleven when a knock made you stop and welcome the person inside.

"It's open" The door shot open and Ruben appeared, his small smile and two coffee cups in his hands making you smile widely.

"Hi, I know it's pretty late but thought you might want some coffee" You couldn't help but smile foolishly big as the Portuguese sat down the coffee at your desk. "Thank you Ruben, it's very nice" "So.... what are you doing?" he questioned, peeking over your shoulder to get a look at your files.

"Well, right now I am writing some files for Nick to pass on to Lucy and Pep regarding the Christmas event and this is your player profile template" "Wow okay, didn't really get that.. wait, that's mine?"

"Mhm"

"What does it say?" he questioned and you chuckled at him, turning to look at him briefly before opening the file up to full screen, showing him the template.

"It's basically empty. I'm gonna have to go around and fill in this information later on, some of it will probably be filmed and all but I have just filled in the basics so far, like your name, birthday, birthplace and so on"

"Mhm" he hued as his eyes scanned the document. He looked ridicolously good regardless what he was doing, it was beginning to become almost a little bit annoying, like how could someone be so beutidul only doing something so simple as reading.

"Are you supposed to know my favorite movie?" he grinned at you, meeting your eyes. "Well I don't know Mr Diaz, are you supposed to know how I look naked? I don't think so but still you do" you mused back, grinning at him as he huffed. His hands rested on the desk, next to you as he leant forward, head tiling to the left to watch you.

"Don't put those images in my head" "You are not getting anything here, it's workspace" you muttered, turning back to your computer and continuing filling in some information in his profile.

"Favorite snack?

"Isn't this supposed to be filmed?" he questioned, "Well maybe but I should start posting this before we can even proceed with the filming so I need to get a few done before, well most of them plus these are not great interview questions"

Ruben hummed, reading through the page now open on your screen as you were thinking.

"Is Jack still here?"

Ruben tilted his head and tutted in disapproval "why would you want him?" You couldn't help but to chuckle at him "Because I want to post his profile?" "Why not mine?"

"Well because I think it would be better to post his first. He is a very popular player and his transfer was a really big publicity thing so I feel like it would get attention to the series of profiles that will occur"

"Post mine first" he grumbled, shaking his head at you while you chuckled "Come on, let me do my work and go find Jack for me"

"I will not"

"Okay, fine. Then I will go myself" you said, standing up from the chair and walking around the table, looking over your shoulder to smirk at his grumpy expression.

"Stop" he grunted as you reached the door, you stopped and turned to him with a smirk. "What? Can't I do my job?" you teased but he only shook his head at you, beckoning you over to him. "You can but right now you can not go and look for Jack" "Why not?" You laughed but still walking to him until you stood chest to chest.

His eyes had that fire they always held when he was in the mood but you had been strict in your rule that no sexual acts where gonna take place at work.

You had already broken that rule twice, once in the changing room after a red-card and another time in the media room after a dinner party.

But you were still adamant on trying to keep it as much as possible. "You shouldn't be so bratty" he murmured. You looked up at him with a chuckle "I am not bratty Ruben, I am trying to do my work and I think Jack is a great player to start with for the profiles and people love him. He is hot, strong and a great player" you teased.

He grunted at that, pushing you against the desk. "Don't stand here and say Jack is hot or you will have a problem"

"Hmm" you hummed as response, feigning thinking. "He is" "Stop"

You couldn't help but to chuckle at him as you patted his chest reassuringly.

Ruben didn't find it funny though. Grabbing your thighs and hoisting you up on the table, standing in-between your thighs and pressing up against you.

"You say one more thing and you will be in trouble" he hissed, pressing his fingers into your thighs. You hummed slightly mockingly, sticking your tongue out from the corner of your lips with a smirk on your face.

"You're just such a brat sometimes" he muttered, pushing your skirt up until it pooled around your waist. He roughly pulled your legs apart and pushed his hand into your panties. You let out a gasp at the rough treatment but you loved it.

Ruben stood with his back against the door, blocking what he was doing with his fingers from any intruders.

"Gonna make you cum in your office and then maybe you will stop being such a brat and maybe stop talking about fucking Jack" His fingers started to rub at your clit. You bit your lip tightly, trying to conceal any sounds that threatened to come out.

Two of his fingers plunged into you starting to pump furiously and making it impossible to stay quiet.

"Ruben" you whined, begging him to slow down. Pressing your face into his chest to try to conceal your moans and whines when he didn't. "Please stop. I can't keep quite" you whined, rocking against his hand.

"Try harder Gathina" he murmured against the shell of your ear, his hot breath trailing down your neck.

He switched between slamming them in and out of you and hooking them against your spot, his thumb never leaving your clit. It felt electric and you knew you would be close within minutes.

Your legs started to shake as you neared your orgasm, the sounds being louder and louder and in the end even Ruben decided it was too much, trying to muffle them with kisses. Swallowing all of your sounds. "You're so close aren't you" he smirked at you chuckling as all you could do was nod.

Just as you were right there a knock echoed through the room before the door swung open. Ruben detached his mouth from yours in shock making you let out a loud moan as you were so so so close to orgasm. Desperately trying to move away from his fingers as you heard the door open.

"Oi! What the fuck!" Jack screeched out quickly exiting the office and closing the door, standing outside the door, waiting until you were ready.

"Ruben stop!" you whined but he continued, only a few more pumps of his fingers was all you needed to release biting your lips so hard they almost bled to not moan too loud for Jack's ears.

You tried to calm down, get your breathing under control and when you did you panicked. "Ruben what the fuck! Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck" You whined, watching as he licked his fingers clean before placing his hands on your shoulders to calm you down.

"Calm down y/n it was only Jack it's okay" "It's not okay! You are not gonna fired for this but I am!" You argued, gathering your bag and computer before hurrying out of the door. ignoring Rubens call of your name.

You opened the door to find Jack scratching his neck but a grin plastered on his face. You turned to him, pointing a finger at him "One word about this Grealish, and i'm talking about anything. One fucking word and you are dead"

Jack's eyes wiedened as you stormed off down the halls.

He whistled as he walked into the office where Ruben still stood, closing the door behind him.

"Soooo" Jack chuckled, pursing his lips at his teammate who mirrored his smile and chuckle. "What did I interrupt" "Nothing" Ruben hummed, shaking his head. "Nothing pft, that's bullshit you were fingering her on her office desk!" Jack burst, eyes wide and voice high.

"Okay okay, but seriously. You cannot say anything to anybody. If you do she can honestly loose her job"

"Hey, I won't but if you wanna keep it a secret ya know, maybe don't finger her in the office" he advised, walking towards the door. "Tell her I will meet her tomorrow and talk about the module she have done" he tilled, grinning as he walked out of the door.

Ruben sighed, taking the spare key from the drawer and locking the door behind him as he made his way down the stair. He was done for the morning, having a break until three when training was taking place again. "Hey Lucy have you seen y/n?" he questioned as he walked down the stairs.

Lucy looked up at the man, a slightly nervous look on her face "Uh, she, I"

"Lucy" Ruben deadpanned, knowing she knew exactly where you were.

"She just left home but she didn't want me to tell you that"

Ruben sighed "Thank you Lucy, I won't tell on you"

She nodded in appreciation as he quickly walked towards his car.

--

When Ruben unlocked the door to your apartment you were sitting on the sofa, lazy watching tv as you worked with your files. You knew who it was the second you heard the lock rustle.

"I don't want any visitors" You shouted towards the hallway but you couldn't help the small smile that tugged at your mouth. The time on your sofa had made you calm down slightly, knowing Jack would never tell on you.

"Shut up" Ruben chuckled, stopping in the doorway to look at you, his arm resting against the frame and a crooked grin on his face. "Sorry for running" you hummed, settling your computer aside as he approached you. Leaning down to kiss your lips softly.

"No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't risk your job like that"

"Well I appreciate that but it's not like I didn't willingly spread my legs for you" you hummed jokingly. "Well no but still" Ruben smiled, settling down next to you on the sofa.

"It's all okay, we just need to talk about a solution. I don't wanna have to hide us forever"

"We will find a solution" he nodded in agreement, kissing your lips again, just as soft and loving.

#ruben dias #ruben dias smut #ruben dias angst #ruben dias fluff #ruben dias x reader #ruben dias fanfiction #ruben dias imagine #footballer imagine #footballer fanfiction #footballer fanfic #football imagine #footballer x reader