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butterfluffy · 2 years

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“bitter end”

⠀⠀ੈ♡˳· tired of all the fights in this unhappy marriage of yours with your husband, you finally had enough, now having the courage to take your wedding ring off, putting a bitter end to your relationship.

⠀⠀➧ angst, pure angst | kid, law, zoro x f!wife!reader | multi-character oneshot/scenario

⠀⠀➧ warnings — swearing, arguing, slight violence, break-up (separation/divorce, really) and angstttt...! mistakes may be present too.. so do ignore them, thanks!

⠀⠀➧ requests are closed until further notice! but i do take requests here and there, though it'll take me some time to finish 'em..!

⠀⠀꒰ 🍨 ꒱ notes: mhhhmmm, good smell, angst. 🥰 i originally wanted this to be hcs but nah, this is much more painful~ alt title; taking your ring off after a fight.

ps. i can, and i will make a part 2, one day, but not today, hehehehehe. 👻

like this? then check this out for more pain~! :)

EUSTASS KID

“yo, i'm home..” eustass kid, your husband announced, arriving home at 3AM after spending his night partying with his friends, getting drunk and having fun—living a teenage life despite having a wife, which is you.

“wow, welcome back. seems like you're done enjoying your life to the fullest.” you said monotonously with an eye roll, sitting on the couch with crossed legs as kid snickered, wobbling to you with a stupid smile on his face.

“yeah, 'twas a fun night, such a shame that i gotta go home bacause your were bombarding my phone with calls and messages.” he says with a scoff, catching you off guard, head snapping to him immediately. “excuse you?”

“‘such a shame’? kid, what the fuck? do you not know that you're a married man—!?” “so what if i'm married!!? am i not allowed to have fun, hah!?” kid grumbles, cutting you off, frowning as he spoke. while you, on the other hand, gasped by his words. not being able to believe that your husband had said such response.

“kid, i'm saying that you aren't supposed to be always living a teenage life when you have a wife!” you defend, getting agitated. “it frustrates me that you arrive late and drunk, worse, i experience this shit of yours almost every day!”

“well why can't you just let me be!? you nosy assed woman!” shouts the male, pushing you aside before he stomped to the kitchen, getting himself water as you stood frozen in place for a few moments—soon following him with a teary, frowning look on your face.

“eustass kid.” you called, catching the annoyed tulip-haired man's attention. “i want to remind you that i am your wife. your wife who longs for you—but it seems like you don't feel the same, huh?”

raising his non-existent brows, kid then puts a ‘hah?’ expression on his face, looking at you before speaking up. “what the hell are ya fuckin' talkin' about?”

“you don't even treat me like i'm your wife, kid. and—and it raises a question in me; why? why did you even marry me? did you do so just for fun? but, you know, i—i don't think i can keep up anymore. let's.. end this. go ahead and live a teenage life as you wish, without me, your nosy assed wife.” you sighed out, taking your ring off and returning it to the now stunned kid who seemed to immediately sobered up, holding you by your wrist to prevent you from going anywhere further from him.

“fuck, no, you're not—we're—we're not ending anything, no, no. i'm not letting you go—i'm—i messed up, i know, so i'm sorry. don't.. d-don't give an end to us that quickly... please.” kid begs with a stammer, voice turning small as his chest heaved up and down, panting as he held his tears back knowing that you are serious with your words. “...sorry too. but i really can't anymore. so please, let's just put this to end, let's end this relationship of ours.”

TRAFALGAR LAW

“again. he's home late, again, and forgotten our anniversary, again.” you whispered to yourself, biting your lower lip in anger as you stood in front of the door of your shared home with your husband, trafalgar law who seemed to just arrived after you've waited for him for hours on your anniversary.

“trafalgar d. water law, you're home late, again.” you growled with a big frown on your face, arms crossed as you called your husband by his full name, only to be silently cursed by the raven-haired male.

“fucking hell... not now, y/n-ya. don't start a fight now. i'm tired, i want to sleep.” passing you, law headed upstairs to your room while you grit your teeth in anger, following him up with loud shouting, and stomping.

“law, i can't—i can't fucking believe you..!” storming in the room and swinging the door open to reveal your husband who you saw sitting up, preparing to sleep, rolling his eyes at you, looking at you in disdain.

“i told you, i have no time for this, y/n-ya. i don't wanna fight, i wanna rest.” he repeats, scratching his head in annoyance—while you, on the other hand stood like a stone by the door, a heavy sigh leaving your lips, and soon later, tears streamed down your face.

“what the—what drama is this now? i just arrived late because of work, it's not a big deal for you, since you're used to this right? so stop that crying and just sleep or something.” clicking his tongue, law then went ahead and laid himself down the bed to rest, brows still stitched to a frown.

“yeah, it's not a big deal, for you,” you said with a swallow, fist clenched tightly before continuing, “it's not a big deal that you're making your wife wait for you for hours every single day for your arrival, and today, which is our goddamn anniversary that is not a big fucking deal at all, yeah?” you croaked, wiping your tears away—your words striking a realization to law. shit.

“unhappy anniversary to you, law. don't worry, this will be the last time i'll be waisting my time waiting for someone who thinks that i'm not a big deal. now, good bye, law. enjoy yourself all alone on our anniversary.” you greeted, swallowing back your sobs as you took your ring off, causing law to shakily stand up, stumbling to you the instant he had grasped what you're implying.

“no, no, no, y/n-ya, honey—shit, i'm—i'm sorry, so please, don't do this. i love you, fuck. i'll do better, i'll change, please, please.” letting a string of pleads leave his mouth pathetically, law held you tight, taking the ring and trying to put it back to your finger as you shook yourself away from him.

“NO! this is the fucking end of us. you told me that you're tired, right? well i'm tired too, so fucking tired of keeping up with you, and keeping this marriage alive myself! i've been hurt so much, and i can't do this anymore, so let me go, trafalgar.”

RORONOA ZORO

slamming the door close after spending your day waiting for your husband, zoro, who never showed up for your date, you let a loud screech. tossing away your bag then stomping to the kitchen—greeted by the moss head who was drinking sake.

“oh my fucking god, zoro! where the hell were you!?” you exclaimed furiously, snatching the bottle of sake from your husband, pouring it down the sink before throwing it away, anger filling you up.

“what the hell's wrong with you..? i was drinking that, you know? and before you get mad, i was here, the whole entire day, you crazy bitch.” zoro grumbles, slumping himself against the wall as you gasped, totally out of words.

this is.. annoying, frustrating—rage, and sadness is eating you up as you stared at the moss head who was frowning, same as you who clicked your tongue.

“you're—this—this is absurd, zoro. i cannot with this! first, you refuse to spend your dearest time with me, your so-called wife. second, you missed our date that i arranged today, completely forgetting it. and third, you call me crazy bitch for wanting to be with you!”

“do you really love me or no!? because i don't think that you do, and it's painfully obvious!” you stated, tears streaming down your reddened cheeks as zoro looked down to the floor, seeming guilty.

“..i do, i.. i love you.” zoro mutters, avoiding your eyes while you frowned by his words. “do you, now? i don't sense any sincerity with what you had said.”

“i am not happy by this, zoro. i don't enjoy this unhappy marriage of ours anymore.” pulling your ring out of your finger, you sniffled, stopping your tears as you looked at zoro, his mouth agape.

“so please, let's just give this an end, okay?” you mumbled, extending your hand that held your wedding ring to zoro who's lips quivered, tugging downwards, shaking his head.

“no... no, i.. i don't want to. i—no. let's fix this, please.” “..i don't think we can do that anymore, zoro.” trying to return the ring to you as he turned your plea down, zoro's world spun as be thought of his life without you..

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rookthorne · 1 year

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𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 | 𝐉.𝐁.𝐁

Pairing ➷ Baker!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader Word Count ➷ 965 Warnings ➷ Fluff, pet names Author's Note ➷ My third and final submission for @the-slumberparty's week 2 creator challenge - and it is also my late contribution to Valentine's Day... so happy Valentine's Day to y'all!

Slumberparty Masterlist

𝑪𝑶𝑶𝑲𝑰𝑬 𝑻𝑰𝑵 : ̗̀➛ a sweet biscuit having a fairly soft, chewy texture and typically containing pieces of chocolate or fruit.

There were very few plans you had come up in your life with that rivalled the sheer brilliance of what you decided to do - ‘twas the belated day for it, anyway.

Time had slipped through your fingers, so much so you hadn’t realised Valentines Day had already passed by with not even as little as a notice, nor a message. It was the curse of working so hard; late nights, early mornings, so on and so forth.

Your morning commute didn’t differ in its crowds - people bustling back and forth, rushing to get to their 9 to 5 jobs, or rushing to get to class on time. Though, you did not mind, your thoughts were too occupied on whether you truly were going to pull off such a brazen idea.

It wasn’t reckless per se, but it was out of your norm. A bakery on your usual route to work had signs out, declaring their cookies and treats to be the best in Brooklyn. You didn’t disagree whatsoever, but it wasn’t thoughts of the baked goods that your mind was clouded with, no–it was the baker that occupied the counter. His smile was beautiful, bright enough to light up even the dreariest days, and you couldn’t help but be pulled under the swell of his ocean blue eyes.

Subconsciously, or instinctually, you found yourself before the very doors to that bakery with no recollection how you had got there, though you weren’t sour for the thought. You could see him talking with customers, bagging up fresh loaves of bread and slices of cakes with that same damn smile that enchanted you.

The door opened with a whoosh and a tinkling of the bell, and you were inside.

“Have a nice day, ma’am,” he said, his voice smooth. The woman smiled and waved, leaving the bakery with bags and bags of sweet treats.

Another customer stepped forward to be served and you browsed the selection, a little overwhelmed; chocolate this and chocolate that, strawberry this and strawberry that, it was a wonder there were so many ways to use the same flavour in entirely new ways. You were no connoisseur, but you knew baking was an art.

“Hey,” he called. “Whatcha after today?”

You turned and smiled brightly, trying to will your heart to slow the tattoo it beat against your ribs. “I’m not sure actually,” you offered, sheepish. “I lost track of time and…” A better idea struck you. “I didn’t have time to get a gift before Valentine's Day, so I have to make up for that.”

The man laughed and rounded the counter. “Alright, now that is something I can help with. My name is Bucky, by the way.” You offered yours, and Bucky smiled. “What does your partner like?”

“I want to surprise them, see, they don’t have a favourite–I just know that they love your sweets.” It was a wonder you kept a straight face at the admission, your plan depended on it, and the delighted smile on Bucky’s lips almost broke your facade.

“The choc chip is by far the most popular, and not to be biassed–one of my favourites.” Bucky directed you towards the clear glass jars where a label was connected with twine, neat script defined ‘chocolate chip’. “And then there’s these,” Bucky continued, pointing towards a cream coloured biscuit with a heart shaped indent, filled to the brim with jam. “They are a safe, but still loved, classic for Valentine’s; even if it is belated.”

“Do you like them?” You asked, peering closer at the dusted sugar and how it sparkled under the soft lighting.

Bucky nodded next to you. “It was my ma’s recipe.”

“Perfect,” you sighed happily. “I’ll take some choc chip ones and these,” you pointed towards the heart biscuits. “Thanks, Bucky.”

“No worries, doll,” Bucky grinned. Oh, the things you would do to see that smile all the time.

A few moments later you met Bucky at the counter to pay, a shy smile on your face when you felt the slight crinkle of paper in your hand. Under the guise of digging through your bag, you wrote your phone number on a loose piece of paper and prayed to whoever would listen that this would work.

Bucky gave you the total with a happy smile and you waved your card. “Here you are,” Bucky said, handing you the bag full of the sweets he had ever so carefully packed. “I hope they like them, be sure to give my thanks for such high praise.”

“I will,” you rushed, grabbing the bag. Bucky turned to the box behind him and fiddled with something, and you took your chance; the slip of paper with your number fell neatly on top of the sealed boxes, its placement obvious and impossible to miss. “Actually, Bucky?”

“Yeah?” Bucky said, turning with a raised brow. “What’s up?”

Taking a deep breath, you offered the bag back to him. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

Bucky stared. Shock, bewilderment, and amusement flashed in his pretty eyes as they flicked between you and the offered bag, before finally settling on endearment; a smile and wide eyes softening his features.

“Oh, doll,” Bucky breathed, taking the bag back and brushing his fingers against yours. His gaze flicked into the bag and his eyes grew even wider.

Before he could say anymore, you squeaked and skipped to the door. “Enjoy!”

Not even ten minutes later, your phone chimed as you walked through crowds to get to work. You pulled it free and let out a breath. It was an unknown number and an attachment, though what it contained told you exactly who had messaged.

Thank you for that, sugar. 😘

The attachment, much to your utter delight, was a selfie of Bucky’s bright smile, blue eyes, and he was holding up the piece of paper with your number. You floated on cloud nine for the rest of the day as you worked; giddy, excited, and happy.

↠ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑 ↞

#bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x f!reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes drabble #navy and roo's sleepover #rookthorne’s works #Sugary Sweet

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nrdmssgs · 6 months

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Can you do a soap fic where a new girl gets transferred and she’s also a sergeant and she’s short and really bitchy, soap flirts with her and she never fails to reply within an insult or a snarky comment?

Masterlist Pairing: SoapXReader TWs: no AN: I took forever, I know, sorry.

The first thing, you thought of, seeing how people gather around Soap, how attentively they catch every bit of phrase covered with thick accent, how eager are they to become part of the next mischief, his mind plotting, is a Kelpie. By no means you were superstitious, but you remember well, what your granny told you: these Scottish demons are nothing but deception, temptation and constant shapeshift, hiding under calm water surface and dragging anyone, reckless enough to trust them, to the depths of cold northern lakes.

You had enough of 'shape-shifters': you were fed up with friendly looking lads, being all sweet around you, only to find out your soft spots and use them against you. So when his smile sparkles too close to your secluded corner of a bar counter - you frown automatically

"Oi, wee-one, what are you doing here all alone, while all the fun happens elsewhere?" That shit eating grin is too familiar. It only portends lies and mockery.

"Daydreaming of your smooches, Sergeant." You know, this man will start flirting with you today sooner or later: after all, he always does. So instead of fearing it coming - you decide on leading this train wreck.

"A'm sa-a-a-a-ae flattered." Johnny can speak British, very much so, when he needs it. But he must be too used to everyone falling for his accent. So he decides to torture your fogged mind with his gibberish.

"And a`m sa-a-a-a-ae lying." You can't hold back a little aping to make this moment even more harsh for him. But that'll teach him.

From your very first day on the base, this man decided, that his holy duty from now on was to haunt you with his flirtatious comments and stupid jokes. You ignored him once, then twice... on his fifth 'strike' you decided, you had enough and fought back. None of Johnny's line remained unanswered by you ever since.

Your rebuffs usually helped for some time. Today it won you fifteen minutes of peace. Because after that Soaps face reappears on the horizon with a jolly 'Anyway, Sg, hae any plans for t`night?'

"Oh, I have one plan, buddy. The first part of it is to not share the other part with the people, I don't want anywhere around me. So lemme guess, this is the moment, you are asking me about the second part?" You talk loud enough, so that not only Johnny, but the whole group of dumbheads enamored by him, hears you.

"I guess, nae, but if you want me to... What's with the second part?" Slowly but surely the damned accent leaves his speech.

"I can't, love, I'm tied up by the first part." Any person, not familiar with Soap would shame you for such a strong reaction. But you knew better, and soon he only proved you right.

"So someone is into restraining? Ah kin just happen tae know a thing or twa aboot this..." You are in mere seconds from snapping right back at him, but he manages to switch your attention to some completely unrelated question.

And just like that you lose concentration for a moment only to find yourself walking down the street with MacTavish and his company. His speech is all honey and velvet with notes of cheerful laughter. Man shouldn't possess so much charm - it is simply unfair. Yet, here he is - all bubbly and so tempting and warm.

Your group turns onto a quiet road, lit by one streetlamp. "Hey, look up!" calls the voice of one of the soldiers, and you lift your head. There is a soda can on the flat lid of the lantern. God only knows how it got there. You're not even surprised when Johnny asks right next to your ear who's ready to knock down the can on the first try. You just turn to him and clarify, “If I do this, can I ask you for anything?”

Soap nods enthusiastically, and before he can add something about the fact that you can always ask him for anything and without any bets, you pick up a pebble from the pavement.

"Watch and learn, Sergeant." You smirk and throw a pebble. The sound of an empty can hitting the asphalt echoes down the street.

Others cheer your victory, when Johnny leans closer and nods with a face of a defeated one.

"Sae what shuid it be, darlin'?"

That smirk. He is trying to look happy even after he lost. Lying scoundrel. Oh, you'll wipe that smirk off his face.

"You seem very proud of your country?" You can't help, but smile, as Soap nods and moves even closer, invading your personal space. So you go on.

"And very proud of that hairstyle of yours... How about we combine your two biggest sources of pride, Johnny." Some soldiers start getting your idea and you hear a few muffled laughs. But Soap doesn't get it till you specify, "Lets paint this mohawk. Blue and white sounds patriotic enough for you, MacTavish?"

If anyone asked you to name the highlight of that day - it was it. Shining smile disappearing from Soaps face, his head ducking, his eyes looking for something under his own boots. He looked lost... But only for a moment.

"Aye. Will need yer help though, wee-one."

For some time, you forget about this evening. Work and duty are quite effective at helping you to put aside any life outside debriefs, trainings and missions. That is, however, only until one late evening, when Soap appears on the threshold of your room with a towel and a pair of tubes of hair dye.

"Sergeant MacTavish keeps his word. Always." These words you hear from a tiny bathroom, where you wash your hands.

He welcomes your return to your room with a bare torso. You try to not look, but one brief glance is enough for his sculpted six-pack, ribs covered with a thin web of scars and tanned broad shoulders to be forever ingrained in your memory. Scoundrel. Seducer. Kelpie. You turn away almost immediately.

"Out of my room. Now!"

"Naw-naw-naw-naw, ye got me wrong! Ah juist dinnae want ma tshirt to get goosed!" He started babbling as quickly as if his life depended on it. So you take a deep breath and nod.

"Ok-ok, calm down!" You come closer to him and brush your fingers through Johnny's dark hair, trying to understand, where should you begin.

It's so strange to see his face not somewhere above, not even on your eye level, but somewhere below. For the first time, you notice the faint freckles on his face, the dark edges of his incredibly blue eyes, the small wrinkles. That all brings you a very strange thought: maybe there are people out there, who know soft and vulnerable Johnny, maybe there are people, whom he will never fail, never betray. You personally can't have a luxury of trusting your colleagues so much as to let them be close to you. But maybe there are people, that trust these eyes and find comfort in these arms.

Your hands fall down. "You know what, Johnny, consider the deed done... To hell ruining your hair, your self-esteem. Forget, we even had this bet, it's stupid."

"Whaaa? Naw, bonnie, it is hilarious! I want this! With ye only! And ah trust ye." He catches your hands and eagerly places them back into his surprisingly soft hair, making sure, your fingers drown in the mohawk fully and touch his scalp. There is not a single note of mockery in his voice - only plea to keep going and trust, endless trust in you - the person, who always had a few sharp words ready for any his attempt to approach you.

You feel guilt stinging you from the inside.

"Ok, I'll do it. But I must warn you - I don't have a single idea, what am I doing. And this will probably turn out ugly."

Soap only keeps nodding, not looking away from your eyes for a moment. His eyes shine with obedience and anticipation.

Not knowing it yet, you are slowly drowning in deep waters, dragged by a Scottish demon. Your very own Kelpie.

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aquagirl1978 · 6 months

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His Human Heart - Chevalier Michel x Reader (Ikemen Prince)

A/N: Inspired by this post by @twas-the-night-before-atelier

Pairing: Chevalier Michel x Reader

Prompt: heart shaped birthmark

Word Count: 601

Tags: fluff

Your eyes drifted closed the moment your head touched the pillow, his hands cradling you gently as he laid your body down onto the bed. Stroking your forehead with the pad of his thumb, he swept any stray hairs to the side. His touch, unusually gentle, coaxed you to hum, soft like a kitten’s purr.

He didn’t crawl into bed with you. Not just yet. You heard his footsteps carry him away; lifting your head, you opened your eyes to find him standing before his desk, his back facing you.

The pale light from the moon bathed his body in an ethereal glow; standing still, he was the human ideal, a statue carved from marble. Your eyes were glued to his beautiful body, taking in every inch of his figure.

You could gaze upon his body for hours and still find something new to admire. Sometimes it was discovering an old, faded scar; other times it was how his muscles flexed and his skin curved around those muscles.

Today, it was a birthmark on his backside.

You weren’t surprised you hadn’t noticed it before – it was small and it hadn’t been terribly long that you had been intimate with one another. But the discovery of it brought a smile to your face as you added this mark to your list of things you loved about Chevalier.

Too busy fawning over his body, you were taken by surprise when he finally turned around, holding two glasses of water in his hands. He huffed a small laugh, having noticed your expression as he turned around, but made no comment as he extended his arm to you, offering the much needed water.

He placed his glass on the nightstand, and climbed into the bed next to you. After taking a few sips, the water refreshing as it flowed past your lips, you, too, placed your glass on your nightstand.

You nudged his shoulder, your silent way of offering a backrub. His eyes narrowed, ice blue darkening to a deep pacific blue, and a familiar smirk crept on his lips before he rolled over on his side, exposing his back to you.

Starting with his shoulders, you dragged your hands down his back, your touch just teasing his skin. Resting your palms on his hips, your thumbs gently stroked his skin as you found what you were looking for. There, on his left side, just below his waistband, was a small mark. Being this close to his body, you were able to really look at the mark. Touch it. Feel it.

Your body filled with a childlike joy when you noticed the mark was in the shape of a heart. Imagine that. Chevalier was imprinted with the very thing he claimed for so long to not possess – a heart.

Your hand wandered, allowing you to touch it with your fingertip, to make sure that it was real. And it was. It was so real.

And then his body shifted, and he made a strangled noise.

“Are you ok?” you asked, your hand still on his mark.

He let out a soft sigh before speaking. “It tickles.”

Oh…

You tried your best, but a small bubble of laughter escaped, gently piercing the air. Shifting your body, you pressed your palm on his shoulder, guiding his body to lie down. Lifting his arm, you squirreled your body under, your arm wrapping around his chest.

“Is this better?” you asked, your head hovering over his heart.

“Indeed,” he replied. Tightening his arm around your shoulders, he pressed your body closer to his, bringing a smile to your lips.

Tagging: @redheadkittys @alixennial @rhodolitesroseforclavis @kissmetwicekissmedeadly @chaosangel767 @queengiuliettafirstlady @queen-dahlia @ikehoe @ikemen-writer @talfollowingstuff @kpop-and-otome @kisara-16 @altairring @lucyw260 @lordsisterxotome @umi-adxhira @yarnnerdally @crypticbibliophile @lancelotscloak @scorchieart @tele86 @nightfoxqueen @melodiousramblings @wendolrea @aceuuuu @randonauticrap @aria-chikage @nightghoul381 @itsjudesfault @maries-gallery @xbalayage @xenokiryu

#ikemen series #ikemen prince #ikepri #chevalier michel #ikepri chevalier #ikemen chevalier #ikepri fanfic #ikemen fanfic #otome #otome game #otome fanfic

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elliewiltarwyn · 2 months

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A Specialized Problem (OC Swap Gift for @mythandral)

for the FFXIV OC Swap discord's current swap, my giftee is the incomparable @mythandral! Coming in a little under the wire here cause the deadline is on Sunday ghasldkfjkasd BUT I'm really glad I finally sat myself down and devoted the energy to exploring Myth's whole deal because it's all so cool and fascinating and he's a wonderful character, and I hope this gift lives up to those standards!!

I present a 2,321-word fluffy MythXStephanivien fic illustrated with gposes from Steph's POV centered around Myth. I offered either gposes or fic writing, and then hubristically decided I could do both. >.> also there was technically a theme for the swap but thankfully they were optional because I completely forgot sdghalshgf however I suppose you could say this is adjacent to the Valentione's/Love option?? it is goddamn cotton-candy levels of fluff at least lol

ANYWAY WITHOUT FURTHER ADO hope you all and Myth in particular enjoy!!

It was well after the end of the workday, with the gray Coerthan clouds beginning to tint orange and the sun beginning to aim its reach through the still-open doors of the manufactory, and Myth had yet to move an ilm from his spot.

This in and of itself wasn’t terribly surprising; Stephanivien was used to his husband’s tendency to focus on his projects to the exclusion of most else. It was a method of increasing his productivity and a process of healing both for him, allowing him to turn his anxieties into progress on any number of little projects that had fallen by the wayside in the manufactory’s assembly line, but ones that would be of immense benefit to unfortunate folk from the slowly-ascending peasants of the Brume to the steadily-recovering citizens of Garlemald. Even if it were for no benefit but his own, Stephanivien would never begrudge him these times to himself; Fury knows he could use some of those moments, butting heads with his lord father and Tedalgrinche and other such doubters all day as he does. Albeit less so these days.

No, Stephanivien’s concern was more prosaic: typically, Myth’s personal space in these times was active and bright, delighting in the sounds of his tools tinkering with his project, examining it from every angle and frequently ducking his head and craning his neck into unusual positions to do so, not to mention how he would gladly explicate upon his process to any who asked, especially if they were new hires of the manufactory who were like to stand there in awe of the Warrior of Light more than actually listen to a word he was saying. Quite frankly, Myth was a delight when he was in these moods.

Today, it had been anything but: Mythandral Raas, beloved senior engineer of Skysteel Manufactory, husband of its proprietor, and Warrior of Light, had spent near the full afternoon gazing blankly at the device in pieces before him on the table — his own aetherometer. His elbows had rested on the table for what seemed to be several bells, his hands clasped across the bridge of his nose as his burnished golden eyes, the color of the sun hiding behind the overcast sky, traced the span of gears, nuts, bolts and wires sprawled across his workspace. Most disturbingly, he had paid no heed to any who tried to draw his attention — not that anyone pressed particularly far, fearful as they were of disturbing such a notable figure of renown, no matter how open-minded and approachable Myth presented himself.

‘Twas quite strange for Myth, but Stephanivien had some ideas percolating in his overactive mind — both as to the cause and as to possible solutions.

And so as the day wound down and countless employees and guild trainees trickled out the door, each bidding both proprietor and Warrior of Light good night, Stephanivien pretended to busy himself with a pile of messy letters that a Haillenarte manservant had delivered earlier that day, flipping and reading through the same three or four until activity in the manufactory died down, until all that could be heard was the sound of steam rushing through pipes and small hisses of exhaust — the murmurs, chatter, and laughter of his employees finally absent. Even now, Myth continued to regard his aetherometer sternly, attempting to solve a puzzle that, Stephanivien admitted, could stump even himself.

Once he had judged it to be likely they truly were the last in the manufactory, Stephanivien raised his voice slightly to note, “Stare any harder, my dear, and you’re like to burn a hole straight through the thing.”

Finally, for the first time in several hours, Myth’s head rose from its downturned angle. Smirking to himself, Stephanivien balled up the letters in his hand, tossed them over his shoulder into the wastebasket, and slipped out from behind the desk to make for his partner’s side. As his boots clacked across the wooden floor, Myth’s head slowly craned around to gaze up at him over his shoulder, blinking fairly irregularly and furrowing his brow as if he had just awoken from deep slumber. “Of course, if doing so would solve your seemingly impenetrable dilemma, then I wholeheartedly encourage it by all means.” Stephanivien winked. “As I always encourage exploring such unorthodox methods.”

“Unfortunately, this is a matter that requires a delicate approach,” Myth demurred as the corner of his lips tugged upwards slightly. “I won’t deny I’ve been quite tempted to incinerate the blasted thing a number of times, though.”

“’Twould certainly eradicate the problem in one sense.” Now by his side, Stephanivien reached over and laid a gentle hand on his partner’s shoulder while extending the other around in front; Myth took the hint and reached up to clasp it, each machinist curling their fingers around each other’s thick padded gloves. “Shall I take a look? Fresh perspectives oft bear unforeseen solutions, as you well know.”

Myth sighed. “You’re welcome to, I suppose, but I fear this is a particularly specialized problem. It involves…well.” He chuckled, sat up a little, and wryly rapped his knuckles against his own chest; Stephanivien knew very well the “problem” laying beneath Myth’s perfectly-tailored, shockingly-clean-for-a-Skysteel-engineer shirt. “My stint with the Light is largely resolved, but I am still particularly susceptible to fluctuations in my aether, particularly when I’m doing something aether-intensive; when I accrue a surfeit, the probability that the aetherometer will jam rises — the lightning-aspected aether it is supposed to draw becomes imbalanced toward the umbral.” With his free hand, he reached for a small wrench that laid on the table next to the meter, flipped it into his fingers with all the dexterity of a Lominsan rogue with their knives, and drummed it along the length of an internal piece of the meter’s machinery. “I am trying to figure out how to filter Light aether and restore the lightning’s astral balance, in essence.”

Stephanivien frowned. “That is quite the conundrum — after all, if it were possible before…”

“…I would likely have had a much easier time in the First, yes,” Myth mused with a grim chuckle.

“That aether fluctuations could cause errors with the extraction is a possibility I ought to have considered. It pains me to know my oversight has been causing you grief.”

“Come now, there’s no way you could have possibly known ‘twould be an issue when you invented this,” Myth immediately interjected, shaking his head up at his husband with a mischievous grin. “Frankly, had you, it would have raised serious questions about your choice of occupation. You could make a killing with that sort of precognition.”

Stephanivien submitted to a chuckle himself as he squeezed his husband’s hand and shoulder both. “You say that, and yet I am not unaware of the skeptical glares everyone still gives my prospectometer.” Myth stifled a laugh with his other hand, a sound Stephanivien had not heard all day and had sorely missed. “At any rate, mayhap we should step away from the problem for a time? Even your genius mind cannot carry on forever without rest and recuperation.” That being said, Stephanivien’s insides churned, as he knew quite well why Myth had been focusing so intently on solving this particular puzzle. From the tales he had heard, from what he had seen cross his husband’s torso, the Light had done quite a number on him, to put it far too lightly…

Thankfully, Myth’s response to the proposition was to sigh, lean his head against Stephanivien’s hand, and murmur, “Perhaps you have a point.” He groaned and stretched his other arm and both legs outward, rotating his wrist and feet as he stretched his neck to one side, then the other. There was a grimace on his face when he muttered, “I definitely should not have sat here all day. Have you aught in mind for an alternate activity?”

“‘Activity’ should not be a factor in the equation, my dear…” Stephanivien trailed off as his gaze tracked towards the chronometer sitting on the manufactory’s front desk. The specific time that it was currently displaying suddenly ignited the spark of an idea in his mind, and he grinned. “Though I do believe I’ve thought of something. Here — follow me.”

Myth’s brow furrowed in confusion, but he allowed Stephanivien to pull him to his feet and start to make for the stairs hand-in-hand. Stephanivien’s heart beat faster and faster in his breast as they climbed those stairs to the manufactory’s upper story, crossing the landing until they reached one of the doors on the far side with a ‘No Entry’ placard hanging off the handles; Stephanivien carelessly yanked it off and pulled Myth through, crossing into a poorly-lit corridor.

“Hm.” Even in the darkness, Stephanivien was well aware of the arched eyebrow upon his husband’s face. “I can’t say I’ve ever been down this way.”

“You did not think the ‘No Entry’ was a physical barrier, surely?”

“You never know.”

Stephanivien laughed gaily as they began to climb another set of stairs. After all his worrying, all Myth’s trials, he could not well describe the extent to which he was walking on clouds hearing his partner’s sense of humor return to prominence.

There wasn’t much further banter as the two ascended the stairs to an extent much further than Stephanivien was sure Myth expected, distracted as they were with the effort and the numbered floors counting off in Stephanivien’s mind. Once they reached the fifth landing, he diverted off the steps onto it and led Myth down another few dark corridors, eventually reaching one sitting unremarkedly at the far end.

“You may want to cover your eyes for a moment,” Stephanivien warned with a cheeky grin; Myth looked confused still, but obliged, lowering his goggles and shading them with his hand. Holding his breath in anticipation, Stephanivien yanked the door open and pulled Myth through.

The moment the sun fell across Myth’s face, it rose in shock, his lips slightly parted as it literally dawned on him what was happening. “Wait, but…”

Stephanivien couldn’t help a satisfied smirk as he gently coaxed his partner forward, stepping onto a surprisingly wide stone landing and making for its edge. “Ishgard has a reputation for dreariness that is not wholly unearned,” he said matter-of-factly, “but there are certain places that are adept at reminding me ‘twas not always a cold and biting clime.”

“Right here at the manufactory?” Myth replied in awe; having apparently gotten used to it now, he pushes his goggles back up onto his forehead and lowers his hand, his golden eyes sweeping back and forth, taking in the vista before them.

“‘Tis not particularly known, and I am ill-inclined to reveal it to most. But of course, I will make certain exceptions.” Stephanivien beams at Myth as they reach the edge and draw to a standstill, relishing the way the widening of his partner’s eyes gave him premium access to the view of their golden pupils, now soaking in not just the scenic view of the ridges of Abalathia’s Spine but the way the sun perfectly sat at the apex of one of the gaps between the Pillars for which the district was so named.

A hesitance struck Stephanivien at that moment, the potential pitfalls of his devious plan now catching up with his overactive mind. After all, if Light was the source of such woe for him… But he remained resolute as he gestured at the vista, lingering in particular on the rays of the sun, so strong with such defined shapes that he swore he could reach out and pluck them from the frigid air. “The sun travels over Coerthas as normal, of course — but it never nestles into what I would declare its proper spot aside from this particular time of day, in this particular season.”

He exhaled a visible puff of air and put his hand on his hip, the other now tightly beginning to curl into Myth’s. “From this spot,” he began quietly, “I can remember easier that we are not so isolated here in Ishgard — that the warm touch of the sun can reach even us.” His gaze flicked up to Myth’s eyes again, meeting them as Myth turned to stare at him. “Both that we need not suffer our trials alone… and that ‘tis still possible to partake of that which is comforting about the light.”

Myth’s other hand, on apparent instinct, rose up and placed itself directly upon his chest, over the precise centerpoint where Stephanivien knew the scars laid. “Steph,” he breathed, “you…”

Stephanivien chewed his lip anxiously, the nerves beginning to rise to a fever pitch as he suddenly found himself unable to read his husband’s expression. “I apologize profusely if I’ve given any offense,” he murmurs, averting his gaze, “I merely thought—”

A leather glove wraps around his hip and pulls him in to share a deep kiss with Myth, one which he enthusiastically reciprocates, reaching up to cup his partner’s cheek and move in for a more comfortable position, a warm position, here in the arms of Mythandral Raas.

“You are,” Myth breathed between kisses, “as always, a genius, and have the answer to everything.” They pulled apart slightly, just enough to rest their foreheads against each other; Stephanivien stifled a chuckle as their goggles clacked awkwardly against each other. “Thank you, my love.”

Stephanivien grinned. “I’m overjoyed to have helped.” They kissed again, and Stephanivien began to tangle his fingers in the lengths of Myth’s luxurious hair. “If you like,” he whispered somewhat mischievously, “I can steal down briefly for some of the ale stores? I’ve found it goes quite well with the view.”

“Oh, on any other day, I would gladly,” Myth replied, pulling back and grinning at his husband. “But tonight, I think I would keep my mind clear. I’ve just had a flash of inspiration about my problem, after all.”

#ffxiv #final fantasy xiv #ffxiv screenshots #ffxiv gpose #my fanfiction #ffxiv fanfiction #ffxiv swap #elezen #stephanivien de haillenarte #stephanivien x wol #other's ocs: Mythandral Raas #thank you sm for trusting me with Myth he's fantastic!!#also this is actually the first time i've ever posed elezen!!#and for some reason i found their heights so much more difficult to wrangle than femroes?? i dont get it??#also also i apologize if any or all of this doesn't line up with Official Myth Lore™️but i tried my best! 🙂

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atlascripts · 7 months

Text

Warnings: angst, no comfort..okay maybe a little if you squint, minor smut

punkgulaab

Twas a particularly humid evening when you came home, dropping your bag on the bed and kicking your shoes off you only had one thing in mind, a shower and dinner to wrap up the day. You didn't quite expect a visitor until he came over. Helping himself in through the balcony and straight into the kitchen as you leaned by the water cooler, "Hi, you could have used the door, no one's home." You spoke and chugged down some water smiling at your friend. The masked man before you just shrugged, his accent thick as he replied, "Not as fun is it then?"

He sat down at the little table in the kitchen, he ...never really unveiled himself, though you two had been friends for a while now. You met Spider Punk and the gang when anomalies became too frequent in your universe, your universe didn't have a spiderperson...or at least not yet. Pav mentioned something about your world bleeding into his hence the anomalies but that was also the way you met the spider folk. A band of superheroes that fascinated you, and though as much as you and Pav may have bonded over similarities in your worlds it was Hobie who you were intrigued by. He had popped in one day by himself to say hi after a mission and ever since then he’d have chai at your place.

"Oi where'd you go?" He asked bringing you back to reality from your thoughts about how weird it was to encounter interdimensional friends. The night was young, the neon lights of the nearby buildings shone through, the scent of roses and the seaside air was a gentle breeze as Hobie; a name you didn't know yet, followed your gaze out the balcony at the dystopian city with eco brutalism for architecture.

"Something on your mind luv?" He asked seeing as you were oddly very quiet. "Just tired I think, I'll make us some tea." You spoke and got two cups out almost like a routine you loved. You heard as Hobie went on about his day and if something fun happened he was sure to tell you the tea, but of all days today a soft sadness had seeped into your soul. You had only just found out about how the universes worked and about the 'arachno humanoid poly multi verse' or something Gwen had mentioned. The sadness settled in knowing one day they all would disappear from your life.....Hobie would disappear and though you tried not to think about it, it settled in like a slow grief ebbing into your veins.

"Hey.." You asked cutting him off from a random story he was mentioning about that Miguel guy, "Yeah?" he asked, "Is my universe really under threat....would it disappear?" You asked hesitantly watching the tea leaves in the water waiting for them to boil. "Not if we can help it, no...besides it's been off the danger zone for a while now so don't worry you’re good." His voice was chirpy as always but it was a little more grounded as he observed her from behind his mask. "Is that what's bothering you?" He asked as he joined you leaning by the counter with his arms folded, "Sort of it's a weird feeling ya know.." You looked like you had more to say but didn't and he picked up on it watching as you poured hot tea over the sieve into your cups. Hobie as always would only lift half of his mask to enjoy any snacks you served him with the chai. However you noticed a bruise over his bottom lip, and you were aware he had a lip ring, it always made you wonder what kind of a person he was visually. "Spidey...yer wounded." You spoke and he took a sip of the tea and winced, "Ow that was hot and yeah it's just a little cut nothin’ much, don't worry about it." He waved it off as always but you wanted to get the aid kit and help him but realized reality isn't always like the movies you see, you couldn't bring yourself to pull such a stunt, you tried though. "I have an aid kit with gauze and everything you can use my bathroom if you need to." You offered. "That won't be needed but you are a sweetheart to ask that, I promise to let you know if I ever need it alright?" He assured you and couldn't help but smile seeing you smile at his words, the blush on your cheeks was evident every time he used a pet name, he did it on purpose but played it off like it was a habit.

Hobie noticed as you opened your mouth to speak and stopped but then spoke eventually, "Once this is all over...will you all go back to your homes and like we’ll never see each other again?" There was hesitance when you asked but this time you looked at him as if really wanting answers, "Well that's the plan to eventually settle back in our own worlds, though truthfully I don't think the spide society is ending anytime soon."

Hobie's response made her eyes hopeful as she asked, "Does it mean you can still visit or that isn't allowed?" He took a sip of his tea as you looked away down at your own cup, sadness seeping into your words, "It's just I thought you weren't gonna show up, it had been a while and I didn't expect a goodbye to be so abrupt.., but it made me wonder that its inevitable right?"

"Is that what's buggin’ you, why you been so quiet?" He asked leaning over the round kitchen table you two were sat at, "I wouldn't leave without a proper goodbye luv, none of us would trust me." You smiled pursing your lips and took the last few sips of your tea now gone cold, "It's weird because here if someone leaves I can still know they are alive and doing well but with you guys.... I'll never know it's like you never existed and I am struggling to come to terms with it..." Your words choked up at the last bit, tears threatening to spill as you looked away and Hobie realized then just how much it had been affecting you, "M'sorry I didn't mean to worry you." You spoke and wiped your tears away but sat in that awkward silence as the sounds from outside wandered in, someone's radio was playing old songs with broken audio, twas some old folk tale love song, how fitting.

Hobie observed you in that moment, he didn't speak either, the reality of it wasn't far from his thoughts in fact he knew it the moment the spider kids wanted to stay over a while at your place, he knew since that day...this would happen and he couldn't lie that it wasn’t hurting him. Maybe because he was confused about his growing fondness for you, he was damn sure you felt the same way your vulnerability right now was proof for him, he trusted his gut and that’s what it was saying right now.

The hanging silence of grief was disrupted by the beeping of the watch on his wrist, there was so much he wanted to say, he was gathering courage or better yet trying to form words but before he could the messages on the watch rolled in and he sighed dramatically throwing his head back on the chair, "M' so sorry about this, I need to go." You quickly wiped your drying tears away and and straightened up, "Right right sorry about this." The dread was seeping in slowly of the awkwardness but Hobie being Hobie played it off so casually and so well, "They can't resist my charms y'know." He pulled down the half tucked mask and walked towards the balcony, "Uhh hey I just wanted to say tha-" he was cut off once again by the beeping watch "Oh for fucks sake, I'm so sorry luv I promise I'll come back around and we’ll continue but for now g’night darlin’." He swung off as he wished her good night as his watch kept beeping and then for a split second you could feel the air get still and you knew that was the dimension opening and he was gone just like that, leaving you with this weird sensation you weren't happy about and also cursing yourself for being so sappy but really was it unjust to feel this way? You found yourself asking that and gosh you hadn't even seen his face but you were falling....slowly and very deeply like death by quicksand drowning you away.

It was a long time after that, till he showed up again, you met the spider kids in between whose faces you also didn't know until now and they just mentioned how Spider Punk was busy these days. But with each passing day, you knew you had scared him off, it hurt thinking he may be the type to avoid feelings so hurray for you to fall for the cliche emotionally not available dude, but then other times you blamed yourself saying things like he's probably just making boundaries as one should. None of them was a solace, it hurt for a while before it started growing numb, to the point where you were starting to come to terms with never seeing him again..or them...even the kids stopped showing up, that too without a goodbye.

But then one golden sunset with the autumn breeze in the air, you had stepped up to your rooftop to redecorate it for the winter, a place for friends and bbq hangouts and such. You were oddly feeling content that day, work had been good and you had made plans for the weekend with friends, it was you know that brief flittering moment on a windy day when everything seemed fine, like you’re going to be okay. Except you couldn't help but suddenly miss Hobie, heck you didn't even know his real name, he was Punk Spidey to you. The universe worked in mysterious ways when you felt it almost like a miracle that you had thought of him after so long and..there he was, that voice unmistakably his.

"Hey there mate, missed me?" You whipped your head around to see him jump over the ledge and onto the roof. You were speechless eyes brimming immediately, you lost your voice for a moment but smiled so wide just happy to see him, "I..thought you all would never come back...I was sure of it." Hobie could see the hurt in your eyes the feeling of betrayal almost. But first, he wanted to come clean, he took off his mask in one swift motion and you were left gobsmacked. He was beautiful, with dark brown eyes, an awesome hairdo which made you wonder how'd it even fit but most importantly, that smile, you could finally see it spread to his eyes and lord knows you felt your knees give out for a moment. He had a few scars over his sharp bone structured face but really he belonged on a vogue magazine cover that's for sure. "Cat got your tongue?" he teased sauntering forward but his smile was genuine as you snapped back to reality making a mental note of, yeah he's out of your league. "Hi," you managed to say as if seeing him anew, "Hey, the name’s Hobie, Hobie Brown." he introduced himself in that thick cockney accent that gave a nice ring to it. He reached out a hand to shake as if being playful, "Lovely to meet you Hobie I am umm me, just me." You giggled at the silliness of the moment but never noticed how he was stepping closer, he didn't have all of his spider suit on like the gloves..weren't present. You realized that when he reached up to wipe the stray tears away feeling his skin against yours for the first time, "I promised not to leave without saying a goodbye remember?" Those words hit like a ton of bricks, "Is this goodbye?" You asked feeling like a lump was stuck in your chest, you so very much wanted to hold his hand as you struggled not to cry. He was silent, eyes solemn, and he was closer as tears blurred your vision and you stared down at your feet, all reason went out the window and soft sobs erupted, your throat hurt so bad from trying to hold back but you just couldn't. And you felt him wrap his arms around you, it wasn't a simple sort of a hug, no, he slowly took his time to hold you close, closer, firmly and you sniffled into his chest, hiccuping as well. Only Hobie knew how he managed to hold in his emotions for your sake, it took everything in him to not cry at this sad state of affairs, divided by universes, star crossed lovers be damned, you two weren't even supposed to meet or be at all....it hurt more knowing you both would disappear out of each other’s lives like you never ever existed.

"Hey look at me luv," he coaxed you to look up and you tried to steady your breathing as you looked up, his pet name almost sounding less flirty and more like an established relationship thing. "Hobie I, before I forget I need you to know, I really like you, like a lot, I've never felt this way about anyone before and I am scared you'll disappear any moment now so I had to tell you-" You rambled out immediately as if there was some clock ticking by and Hobie was both surprised and pained at the way you confessed, it wasn't romantic, it was rushed and he could tell why. "Hey hey, breathe, I am right here, look at me." He tried to find your eyes but frankly speaking this all was starting to feel like a nightmare to you, you held his hand that reached to wipe your tears again and gently squeezed it as if wanting to know he was real. Hobie knew no words could fix this torment, his eyes were glassy from holding back his own tears and his breathing was heavy. You two just were in that moment, under the sunset’s glow and like moths to a flame, Hobie closed the gap between you two pressing his lips to yours in a longing kiss. He tried to be gentle, he really did but the way you gripped his vest pulling him closer, had him going in with such fervor it left you breathless in a matter of moments and even then when you'd break away catching your breath he'd pull you right back in, closer in his arms, never wanting to part.

The sun was slowly going down but Hobie stayed, longer than any stay, he stayed with you for such a long time wanting to commit you to his memory. You knew this would hurt and yet still you lay yourself bare for him to take, making love like it was the last day on earth. Guiding your leg up a little and around his waist, he moved slow and sensual for this last round, lips not leaving yours. Tears pricked your eyes from both pleasure and sorrow and you held his face mumbling a soft, "..I love you." It felt too soon yes, but also felt like it was now or never. "I love you too.." his words were practically muffled into the kiss. Still, you heard it, you felt it and his thrusts became deep leaving you gasping and whining, clinging to him as he trailed wet kisses down to the sensitive spot on your neck. You wordlessly felt yourself clamp around his length climaxing while he rode you into overstimulation, whispering praises and sweet words. He grunted and buried his face in your hair gripping onto your waist so tight as he chased his own high and he groaned when you felt him finish and you held him as if to steady him. No words were exchanged then, just gentle touches and an embrace to lull you to sleep when he lay beside you.

You were asleep when he'd wake in between his restless slumber from nightmares, he'd curl up closer to you face buried into your neck. "I promise I'll find a way.." He whispered to your sleeping form a promise to you and to himself...he wasn't going to let this god forsaken issue be the reason for you two being torn apart. Rules be damned, there are always exceptions, he knew of it, he was sure of it...or at least he'd die trying.

That dawn he was gone, kissed you goodbye before the sunrise and disappeared. When you awoke the wind was knocked out of you as if it dawned on you all over again, this was it you thought to yourself...you just stared out the window with blank eyes and endless tears, still in bed, bare and covered in last night's pleasure. A part of you might as well have been buried alive that day, eyes hollow and longing, waiting each day then for time to move faster to heal the void.

Hobie was gone..

‘Hobie, my beloved..~’

mood song: mehram from coke studio s14

(don't forget to click the cc on the video!)

#hobie brown #spider punk #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown angst #anarchic spider man #spiderman across the spiderverse #mood song #desi coded reader #desi reader #punkgulaab

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aritamargarita · 4 months

Text

ATTITUDE (… CHRISTMAS SPECIAL!!)

I feel very motivated. Yes it’s 5 am

It’s December now……..originally wasn’t gonna consider this canon but it is. We’re cooking again. WE DRAW CLOSER TO 2002!!!!!!! its december 24th 2001 in story!!!

this one’s a quick one since it’s just a one off chrystler chapter.

hopefully it’ll hold u guys for just a LIITTLEEE longer while i work on other things too. by the way when i rewatched the eggnog match, it was so fast it actually made me mad LMAO, well not much you can do there anyway so i tried improvising..?

‘TWAS THE RAW before Christmas and you’re sure there’s a lot of holiday cheer. You’re excited. What’s the night got in store?

You received a blue and red envelope in your locker today.

It’s painfully obvious they were invited to Smackdown and Raw’s Christmas parties, but you think it’s only because they want you to see what each brand had in store. They hadn’t started the draft yet, but you’re sure both General Managers had their eyes on a few picks…including you.

All you can hope is that the fans don’t get tired of you. It’s probably the only way you’d be allowed to be a free agent.

Before you can leave, your phone rings. You’re a little concerned, given that you’re at work and have never ever gotten a call. You’re about to enter the room, but you take a step back to quickly answer. “Hello?”

‘Hello, sweetie! How are you? Are you working?’

It’s your mother, and when hearing her voice, you sigh. “Hey, yes. I’m working. Is something wrong?”

‘No, no at all.’ It makes you sigh again, but this time in relief. ‘I watched one of your shows. That Jeff boy seems very nice. I’d like if you bring him home for Christmas!’

Oh, that’s not…

It takes you a moment to respond. “What? Why?”

‘He just seems sweet! That is a pure-hearted boy, and you seem to care for him enough. I’ll be expecting you two love birds.’ She says. ‘That is if you’re able to come home.’

“I’m not sure. I think I might, but only for a day. The next Raw doesn’t get taped until…well, next year. In January. I forgot when Smackdown was.”

‘I hope you do. We miss you very much. Give what I said some thought! I won’t bother you anymore. I love you!’

“Love you too. Bye bye.” And you hang up. You don’t think you’ll ever tell anyone what she said. You probably wouldn’t hear the end of it!

You take a deep breath and shake it off. As you walk through the door, you’re greeted by a camera and…Pat Patterson and Gerald Brisco in elf outfits.

Wow, what a party Mr. McMahon has hosted…

Speaking of him, he was already at the door once he opened it. “I totally wasn’t listening to your conversation,” He clarified. You roll your eyes. But your boss is thrilled to see you, outstretching his arms.

“You’re the star of the night! I assure you, you’ve chosen the right party. You’re going to love it here.”

He tries going in for a hug, but you don’t react. Instead, he awkwardly reaches his hand out, and you shake it hesitantly. This is still your boss, after all.

“Everybody give a warm welcome to [Name]!” Vince announced. Great, now everyone’s staring.

You give a small wave as everyone in the room soundly greets you. Some of these people look familiar. Billy and Chuck, Terri, Christian, The Dudley Boyz….

And then there’s Stacy. Your eyes brighten once you see her in the room. She’s the only one you know well. She’s also excited to see you, hopping off of (who you can assume is) Bubba’s lap.

“[Name]! You came!”

“Hi.” You wave. “You look nice.”

Your voice is dry, which makes Stacy pout in return. However, your compliment puts her at ease. “Thanks!”

She then takes her hand and pulls on your shirt. “What’s with this? I thought you’d be all dressed up! It’s about to be Christmas! You dressed up when we were in WCW, remember?”

You do. It’s not because you wanted to, either. You didn’t really have a choice. Management wanted all the girls to come out in their little cute Santa’s helper costumes, and the moment you complained about it, you were told that you could just go for the day…and not be on TV.

You shake your head. “I’d rather just wear my regular clothes. Now, you may ask why again. The answer…is because I can. “To you, that reason was as good as any.

“Ugh, come on.” She whines. “I wanted to see you in something nice. I think the crowd would love it, too!”

There lies the problem. You scoff. “As if I’m showing any kind of skin in this landfill of a place called Miami. Of all the states we have to be in, it’s Florida?! Gross..” Your words incite booing from the crowd, but it’s not like you can hear them anyway. “This place sucks. I saw a man wrestling an alligator outside.”

“You’re silly. You should take a load off.” Stacy grins. Little did she know, you were dead serious. And the man was WINNING! Incredible.

You figured there was no convincing Stacy. She must’ve thought you were crazy.....if she doesn’t already.

She takes her hand and pats your shoulder. “It’s okay, [Name]. Maybe you’re just a little hazy from excitement. You should have some fun with us!”

“I don’t think I can.” You decline. “I’ve got a segment soon. So, not for long. Whatever’s going on here, I’m happy to see we’re all getting along.”

“I’m taking that you like it here?” Vince cuts in, then motions towards the other wrestlers. “See all the star power in here. That could be you. You can be involved. You sign with SmackDown, I promise you you’ll see that and more.”

You will consider. You’re not entirely sure whether or not you want to be with either brand because they have pros and cons. The problem is, which one would you rather deal with?

“Right, um..” You hesitate for a second, and Vince immediately jumps on his chance.

“Well, why don’t you come over and drink some punch? If that’s not your thing, we’ve got a lot of options.” He holds up a bottle of sparkling cider.

Man, he’s really trying hard, huh?

The arrival of Booker T grabs his attention, and you slink away to Christian instead. “Hey! Been a while.”

Christian looks around before looking at you with a grin. (Something you know he did on purpose) “If it isn’t my favorite fan! How’s it going, tiny?”

It’s been a while since he’s even called you that nickname, and it still does NOT hold true. You swear to god it’s not true. “I have definitely been fine! Just hanging in there.”

“I dunno, what you did at Vengeance was completely nuts. Are you sure you’re just hanging in there? Not gonna do the same to me, are you?” He asks.

“No. I just want to relax today! I really do.” You admit. You’re tired, and you want some time to think. This party does nothing for your racing thoughts, but the least you could do was try and enjoy it before leaving.

Which was probably soon.

“I don’t mean to butt in at all,” Terri comes over to you and rubs your shoulder. “But are you doing alright? The last time I saw you was when you mistook me for Torrie. And you had a bit of a meltdown during Vengeance.”

Wow, you really did leave a mark. Everyone must know about your little stunt. You fight a smile. “I’m just fine. I got my anger out and everything. I’m totally not mad.”

That was a lie. You are still mad and are unsure how long it’ll last, but you are still upset at Torrie. You’re still upset at Jeff and Raven as well, but the difference is that you don’t think you’ll ever forgive her for what she’s done so far.

Terri was going to speak again, but Vince loudly called everyone to attention. “You guys! Listen up, I got a surprise.” The door opens, and you don’t believe your eyes. “Courtesy of Santa himself, Santa’s little helpers!”

….Wait a second, these aren’t elves. They’re women! Did he seriously invite strippers?

They’re fully clothed, but their dresses were so short you might as well consider it next to nothing. It’s not like you’re complaining per se, but jeez. Wasn’t this supposed to be a kid-friendly show?

Haha, as if. You chuckle to yourself a bit.

Vince is introducing them as Santa’s helpers indeed. He takes “Vixen’s” hand to lead her onto a table.

“Alright,” You don’t want to stay around for this. “You guys have a good night, okay? I think I’m cutting it close. I need to get out in the ring.”

“But I’ve got a lot to show you, [Name]. You can’t just leave yet!” Vince tried to convince you, but you shook your head.

“Really can’t. But I promise I’ll consider Smackdown.”

You have to quickly exit before he can say anymore, but you can’t deny that you’re excited to talk in the ring.

Did you expect anything less from Vince McMahon? No. Hopefully, Raw would fare better.

Well, you’ll see soon enough.

It’s your turn to go out there, and you were pretty amped up about it. Sure, it’s another show of Raw, but it’s Christmas Eve, and Santa should be out and about now!

You want to show the crowd and everyone at home how excited you are for Christmas. Today’s another episode of Time Out with [Name]!

Once your entrance music plays, you push back the curtains and head down the ramp. Thanks to your stunt at Vengeance, you got a lot of mixed reactions from the crowd.

Jerry is the first to point it out. ‘Well, she seems to be in a good mood, JR!’

‘She sure is. I’m not sure if we should be on guard or not. That woman is a ticking time bomb just waiting to explode.’

Thankfully, they had given you a mic before going out there. The moment you slid into the ring and were faced to face with thousands of people, you couldn’t help but fall into a laugh.

“Okay, I know what you guys are thinking,” You begin. “Vengeance may have gotten a little out of hand! I get it. But if you were in my shoes, you’d understand! Anyway, that’s not why I came here tonight.”

JR can only shake his head. ‘Well, I’m sure we’d all like to hear what’s going on in that mind of hers.’

“I have an extraordinary guest today..” You trail off. “In fact, you all know him very well! He sees you when you’re sleeping, he knows when you’re awake! It’s Santa—“

The Rock’s music plays instead. He quickly storms down to the ring, and you’re actually shocked that he interrupted you like that. The crowd cheers so loudly that you can’t even hear your thoughts. You figured it was a given. You’re in Miami, after all.

You start to talk as soon as he starts climbing into the ring. “Um, excuse me? Rocky?” The little pet name you call him makes him raise that iconic eyebrow toward you. “I-I didn’t call for you. I was waiting for Santa. But you’re more than welcome to wait for him with me.”

He stares at you momentarily, then reaches over the ring for a mic. There’s still more silence, and as you await your response, you look at him expectantly.

“..No.” He finally says. “The Rock came here to share a very important message with the MILLIONS—and MILLIONS—of Rock’s fans.”

“I get that.” You say. “I’m all for it, but this is my show. Like, jeez, if you’re gonna interrupt Santa, at least let me ask you some questions.”

“You think Santa’s coming here?! Miami is hot as hell, the guy’s gonna melt!” He’s got a fair point. But it’s Christmas! Santa would make a way to get here one way or another. “[Name], The Rock came out here because he has a few questions for you. You’re going to want to hear this, sweetheart.”

You’d be almost flattered at the pet name if it wasn’t for the slight derisive tone behind it. You can’t deny your curiosity, though. “Oh, pray tell!”

“You and The Rock both hate Chris Jericho. You and The Rock also hate….Stephanie McMahon.” He says. It’s true. Very true! You hate both of them. “And because we share the same hatred, The Rock has gotten you a gift. Consider it a peace offering.”

How sweet! Can’t refuse presents. Maybe Santa could wait for a minute. Hopefully, Austin won’t get too angry that you’ve accepted this.

He reaches over the ropes to one of the stagehands, and he’s handed a neatly wrapped gift. It is handed off to you, and you’re already excited, ripping it open as fast as possible.

The camera zooms in on your gift, and it’s…

…a book with a red bull on the cover. You look at him in confusion before repeating the title for the crowd. “The Rock’s night before Christmas? Did you really just give me a book??”

The Rock ignores your comment, and the crowd laughs as he takes the book away from you.

“You sure are. Here, let The Rock help you,” He flips open the book to one of the pages. “Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even….a mouse.” He pauses for a moment. “The weather was warm, not a trace of snow, just as The Rock got ready to whoop Chris Jericho.”

You nod your head. The only reason why you’re playing along is because of the Jericho line.

But he teases you anyway. “…See, there you go. That’s how you read a book. Go on, try it.” He hands it back to you.

You clear your throat. Guess that’ll be a way to pass the time waiting for Santa. “Jericho claims to be the best. The Rock has found this quite brutal. Clearly, Chris Jericho is a man who has no strudel.”

Whatever that means. The crowd goes crazy, though.

You look over to The Rock, and he nods in approval. He makes a motion with his hands for you to keep going. “I am a living legend! Y2J would sing, trembling with fear as he heads into the peoples ring…and faster, faster than Scrooge, saw the ghost of Christmas past—“

The Rock cuts you off, finishing the rhyme once and for all. “The Rock hit the people’s ring and WHOOPED Y2J’S ASS!”

Wow! What a wonderful Christmas gift. Not.

You thought it was something useful. For all you care, he could’ve gifted you a chair. A brand new kendo stick. Maybe even a steel pole. Hell, you’d even take a pair of socks over this book.

“Not to sound ungrateful, but this is my gift? No joke?”

The Rock nodded. “Well?? Do you like it?”

Your silence told a million words. The moment you’re about to speak, you can’t help but laugh once more. It takes you a minute to pull it together.

“As much as I would love to rag on Jericho, and believe me, I would LOVE to rag on him, that’s not what I expected. It’s Santa. And in the spirit of Christmas, it just so happens I have a gift for the crowd, too.”

The crowd cheers, but you already know what they’re thinking. You point a finger upward. “No, it has nothing to do with me taking my clothes off!”

And just like that, the crowd begins to boo. Aw.

Just as you’re about to spill the deets about your Christmas gift, the familiar tune of Kurt Angle’s music plays. For the love of god, you just want Santa Claus!!

“Sorry, guys..” Kurt insincerely apologizes from the top of the ramp. “All this talk about Christmas makes me think about something. What is it that you said about Santa Claus? He sees you when you’re sleeping..he knows when you’re awake?”

You scoff at the mimicking of what you said earlier, but he continues. “Well, if you ask me, Saint Nick is a pervert! I’ll tell ya what, I hope Santa isn’t watching tonight because I plan on being very naughty.”

How dare he drag Santa’s name through the dirt like that? “You can’t say those things about Santa. Most importantly, you can’t just say you’ll be naughty! You’re the pervert!” You accuse.

“You’re the only one thinking that way, [Name]!” Kurt accused back. “And boy, I am glad you’re not stripping out here tonight. Now that’s a relief. This is supposed to be a kid-friendly show!” Yeah right.

“Are you sure about that?” You question. “Earlier, there was—“

He quickly cuts you off. “As a matter of fact, you or anyone else shouldn’t be idolizing Santa. There is someone far more powerful than he is, and it’s Vince McMahon. In fact, he got your Olympic hero a very special Christmas present.”

“Vince makes little kids cry at that sight of him!” You accuse. “You think they’d idolize him??”

You’re unsure if it is true, but he’s scary. You remember when he ran towards you and Trish during that one match. A literal nightmare. “What did you get? I bet it’s not better than mine!”

“Don’t you know?” As Kurt is speaking, you can hear the crowd chanting ‘asshole’ around you. It makes you giggle. “It’s—“

“Woah, woah, woah!” The Rock interrupts. “Please let them finish calling you an asshole!”

You seem exasperated that your show has been hijacked yet again, on Christmas Eve nonetheless. “Guys, there’s gotta be a way we can settle this. You know, somewhere else?”

“No, no, you’re gonna wanna hear this,” Kurt says. Both of them have said that, so that means that you won’t like it as much..

“That present is a shot at the undisputed title. That’s right, tonight is going to be a triple-threat match. The Rock versus Chris Jericho versus Kurt Angle. Ho, ho, ho, it’s true!”

You had brushed it off when she said it in passing, but Trish really had a point when she said that the men ruin everything. This was already cutting into your time.

Kurt seems to be confident, though. “And I tell you what, Rock, your chances at winning the title in front of these sleazy hometown losers just went slim to none!”

“Let me just say,” You decide to add. “That Stone Cold Steve Austin would wipe you two off the map! Uh, no offense, Rocky.” You say, gently setting a hand onto his bicep. “If Vince McMahon had any good in him, which I doubt, he would let Austin into that triple threat and make it a fatal four-way!”

The jeering quickly turns into cheers, and you bow to your fantastic suggestion.

“Oh, absolutely not!” Kurt yells. He decides to make his way down the ramp, and you start to feel like this isn’t ending well. “I got this fair and square. Stone Cold doesn’t deserve this as much as I do. There’s a reason why Vince put the Olympic Gold Medalist into action and not some trailer park trash.”

Ouch. You wince.

“Seeing as you came out here and interrupted [Name] ’s little show..” Finally, the recognition you deserve. “Just let The Rock finish his Christmas message and he’ll tell you exactly how he feels about this whole thing—“

The sound of holiday bells fills the arena, and you immediately shush The Rock, albeit ruder than you intended to be. “SHUT UP, SHUT UP!” You yell. “IT’S SANTA!”

Lo and behold, it’s Jolly Old Saint Nick himself. Santa’s holding a red sack, which is likely full of presents.

More than likely, it was merchandise, and Santa reached in and began tossing things into the crowd. You’re giving him a standing ovation.

The Rock looks at you as if you’re insane. Even Kurt, who had just begun climbing the ropes into the ring, shoots you a look as well.

“Look! It’s Santa!” You exclaim, pointing right at him. “He’s right there! I told you guys he was coming!”

After a minute of throwing things out into the crowd, Santa chucks his bag into the ring and clambers in. You immediately hold out your mic for him to take. You’ll grab another one, you don’t even care.

“Ho, ho, ho!” Santa bellowed. This is really happening in real time. You skip over to the ropes and reach for a new mic as he continues talking. “Have you wrestlers been good this year?!”

You make haste to grab a new microphone. “I have!” There’s a giggle in your voice. “I don’t know about them, but I’ve been the nicest!”

Kurt shakes his head. “I don’t think so! You beat up poor Stephanie McMahon just a few weeks ago!” He calls back to your handicap match, but in your defense, she started it.

“That wasn’t my fault. Stephanie was trying to interfere! She even interrupted my show!” You shoot back. “You know, like you two interrupted mine?!”

He’s still not swayed. “She’s a potential business partner! You can’t just do that to a potential business partner!” Kurt then gives you a sardonic grin. “Personally, I’m just making it better.”

“A potential business partner? HA! Maybe on the street!” You laugh. “I swear to god, I will—“

Santa immediately puts a stop to your petty bickering. “Friends! There’s no need to argue. I can see how good you are in your hearts!”

That was so real. You smile, but The Rock is shaking his head. He points a finger toward him. “So, Santa, you came to The Rock’s hometown of Miami…..all the way from the North Pole? The Rock isn’t sure if he believes that.”

“What do you mean you don’t believe it?! He’s Santa!” You motion towards him.

Kurt doesn’t believe it either. “Yeah, right. I hate to agree with him, but look at him!”

All three of you turn to look at Santa at the same time. You personally see nothing wrong with him. “What’s the deal? This is definitely Santa.”

“…Well, [Name], whatd’ya want for Christmas?” Santa asks.

“See! How else would he know my name if he wasn’t Santa?” You question. You take a second to think about what you want, then bring the mic up so you can talk.

As soon as you’re about to speak, Santa Claus stands up and cuts you off. “Aht, aht, aht!” He waves a finger. “That was a test. Never tell your wish! Fret not, Santa knows all. Perhaps you’ll get what you want this year!”

You’re convinced and happy. That’s all that matters.

“Listen, ‘SANTA,’ Kurt sarcastically begins. “If you’re the real deal, I want to win the Undisputed Championship tonight. Can ya’ do that for me?!”

“I apologize, Kurt, but…. you’ve told me your wish; I don’t believe I can grant it.”

“HA!” You laugh. He’s not getting the Undisputed title for sure now. That’s one less thing for you to worry about.

“You can’t grant my wish...” Kurt repeats, nodding his head a bit. “Okay.” He shrugs it off momentarily, giving the impression that he’s about to leave, but he swoops Santa off his feet and into an Olympic Slam. As soon as Poor Santa hits the ground, Kurt angrily yells at him. “YOU’RE GONNA GIVE ME MY WISH, SANTA!”

“Wait!!” You yell. But it’s too late. “NOO! What’re you doing?! I can’t believe you!!!” You’re so distraught that your words are coming out way too fast. Kurt Angle just gave Santa an Olympic Slam!

To make things worse, Kurt pulls him right into the Ankle Lock. You’re yelling, but The Rock just stands there. That is until he decides to yank Kurt back and exchange blows with him instead.

As of right now, pain is all you feel. You kneel down to the fallen Santa, trying your best to help him up.

There’s one thing for sure. This Raw would be memorable…for all the wrong reasons.

Today’s matches are as follows…

RIKISHI VS. TEST

APA VS. BILLY AND CHUCK

TORRIE WILSON VS. STACY KEIBLER VS. [NAME] (EGGNOG MATCH)

RVD VS. LANCE STORM

CHRISTIAN VS. THE HURRICANE (EUROPEAN TITLE)

BOOKER T VS. MAVEN

BUBBA CLAUS VS. TAJIRI CLAUS

CHRIS JERICHO VS. KURT ANGLE VS. THE ROCK

You double take once you see your name alongside Stacy and Torrie.

Who put you in the eggnog match? You’re going to kill someone. This is probably one of the first gimmick matches you’ve had here, and it makes you reconsider shunning a bra and panties match…

….Nah, nothing would ever make you reconsider that. By some stroke of luck, you haven’t been signed up for one. However, you’d much rather have an actual match tonight!

Now you’ve got a bone to pick with Raw’s new owner. More than likely, he had something to do with this, so you can’t blame Vince THIS TIME. You may just start blaming him for shits and giggles, though.

“[Name]!”

You look behind you to see RVD storming down the hall. He doesn’t seem in the greatest of moods, but you still try and be friendly. “Hey there! What’s up?”

It’s a bit off-putting to see him so irritated. He seems so laid back. The moment he grabs your shoulders is when you realize that it may be serious. “Have you seen Chris Jericho? This is important.”

Seems like everyone’s looking for him. He is always causing trouble. You think it’ll only get worse now that he’s the Undisputed champion, but you can only hope someone else can beat him.

If that doesn’t happen, perhaps you’ll have to intervene.

He rubs his temple. “He attacked me on Heat before Vengeance. I know he’s performing tonight, but I don’t care. Lance Storm had a lot to say about it, so now I’ve gotta kick his ass.”

“I’m sure you’ll get it. My advice is to try the locker room. He’s vain enough to stay in there for days if he could. I’m sure he loves checking himself out.” You recommend.

RVD seems to relax a bit. He doesn’t think he can be mad around you, at least not for long. He lets go of your shoulders. “Alright, Miss Nitro. I’ll try.”

That’s like the second nickname someone’s given you. Can’t complain about it, though. It’s kinda cute!

Though you feel bad that you can only catch him in the halls, you smile anyway. “I’ll catch up with you later. I’ve gotta hit up the party. We’ve gotta hang out sometime. I really enjoyed it when we were a team.”

“Ditto.” He agrees. “Well, when you need a partner, come find me.”

You wave at him, he returns it, and you two go your separate ways. The main objective was to get to Raw’s party. Talking to Ric Flair was really important.

You could hear a distant “woo!!” from down the hallway. Yeah, he’s definitely in there.

You pick up the pace a bit to reach the door, and you quickly open it. Upon entry, you can see more people that you know. Trish, Jacqueline, Big Show, Hurricane, Tajiri, Torrie…

Seeing her sitting in Santa Tajiri’s lap, you can’t help but stare in awe. She seems surprised, too, not expecting you to be at the party. There’s a camera here, so it follows you to where you stand. You cross your arms.

They did an awful job of telling you these things.

You glance around again and notice that Edge is here, too. God damn it.

Once you and Torrie locked eyes, the room fell silent. Some of your coworkers are starting to get an idea of how unstable you are.

They just hoped you wouldn’t go ballistic on her right now. It’s a party! You’re supposed to be having fun! You get the gist, so you decide to clear the air. “I just want to talk to Ric Flair. I'm not here to fight or anything.”

Nevermind the fact you got an invitation..

Everyone seems to let out a sigh of relief, continuing their miscellaneous conversations. Were they really that concerned..?

The Nature Boy makes his way over to you. “You called for me?!” You flinch at his tone of voice. He’s so loud.

“Yeah, why’d you schedule me in that eggnog match?” You question. “I don’t want to be in it. In fact, there’s no reason for me to be in it.”

He grabs a drink from the table and raises it up toward you in offering. “I thought it would be a good opportunity, I wanna see you wrestle!”

You wave your hand at him. “You did! Remember that one match with The Rock? You fixed the match!”

“Not good enough! I wanna see some hair pullin’, eye scratchin’, clothes rippin’! Woo!” Ric chants. “You’re the only person that can deliver it! I've seen you go at it when you were in WCW!”

You can’t even get a word out before he’s yelling even more. “MERRY CHRISTMAS, FROM THE NATURE BOY!! WE ARE PARTYING DOWN TONIGHT, WE ARE LOOKIN’ GOOD!”

You really fight the urge to say: “Take your pills, old man,” but you instead decide to zip it for now. Guess you’ll have to participate.

Meanwhile, Edge makes his way over to you. He’s got garland wrapped around his neck like a scarf, and you know he’s still goofy as ever.

“Hey there, you.” He greets.

You wave. “Hi.” This is too awkward for you, so you cut to the chase. “We’re fine now, right? I saw you catch my kiss. I blew you.”

“Hah, blew me.” Edge chuckled. Ha, ha. You almost laughed, he’s sooo hilarious. “I don’t know why you came out there, but I kind of liked it.”

You’re happy. At least he didn’t seem to be mad at you anymore. He totally took things out of context. You wanted to map out a few things to say to him in your head, but it’s tough when Torrie talks so loudly in her squeaky voice.

It’s like she was doing it on purpose. Like she’s raising her voice so that you could hear. If that’s what she wants, so be it. You turn around to look.

“Wooow!!” She chirps, unwrapping a lingerie set from the box. “You want me to be naughty, don’t you?! It’s beautiful, I love it!”

God, you hate her. You swiftly turn around to leave but are stopped by Debra coming in with a tray of neatly placed cookies.

“Hey, sweetie!” She greets you with a big smile. “I’m glad you could make it! It’s not a party without my famous cookies!”

You’re gonna be honest. Those look like the sugar cookies from the store, but you’ll still eat them.

She hands over the tray to Ric. “Oh! Steve will be here any minute!” He’s coming too?! Cool! It is a little surprising to hear he’s actually gonna show up. Everyone in the room starts to cheer, including the crowd.

Alright, perhaps the night can turn itself around after all.

Eggnog shouldn’t be that bad. It's not your favorite drink, but it’s better than gravy. You bet poor Trish had to take so many showers.

It honestly reminds you of when Kurt hosed the Alliance down with milk. You won’t ever forget that night. You shiver just thinking about it.

The ladies of the night have already made their entrance. You’re the last one to come out. You don’t even bother dressing up all festive, as your gear will probably be drenched anyway.

Your music hits. Now’s the time to go out there and get this match done as quick as you can.

“And finally, introducing [Name]!”

For a moment, you stop midway on the ramp to look at the girls and the pool of eggnog.

If they said this was for a WCW taping, you would’ve believed them.

You finally reach the end of the ramp, looking over and shaking your head. You can’t believe you’re doing this. All the while, Torrie’s tossing candy canes into the crowd while you walk over toward the side. At least someone’s enjoying this.

As soon as you get down there, she turns toward you and coyly passes you a candy cane, but you slap it out of her hand. You don’t want that shit.

Stacy quickly takes advantage, yanking her over by the shoulder and slapping her. Stacy yells over to you, “Let’s throw her in!”

Absolutely. You give her a nod, and the two of you back over to Torrie. The both of you pick her up, adjusting so she doesn’t get hurt too bad when you toss her.

“One, two….” You begin to count, the two of you rocking back and forth. “Three!” And there she goes, right into the pool of eggnog. Some of it splashes on you, but you don’t care.

Cameras around you flashed and it almost blinded you for a moment, causing you to squint for a moment before rubbing your eyes.

Once you come to, you see Stacy raising her hand for a high five. You smile and give her one, but as soon as she turns her back on you to laugh at Torrie, you shove her into the pool.

What an idiot! It’s every woman for themselves tonight. While you actually start to find this fun, you foresee a messy shower in the future. Carefully, you step right into the pool. You didn’t want to slip and hurt yourself.

Of course, the first thing you do is to try and drown Torrie. Just to shut her up for a bit. You grab her hair, submerge her under the eggnog for a minute or two, and then pull her back up. She’s coughing and sputtering.

Stacy’s doing her best to regain some balance, even trying to grab on the referee for some leverage. You’re too focused on Torrie, though.

The smell of eggnog was starting to make you sick. You don’t think you ever want to see eggnog ever again.

You try to adjust to pull Torrie onto a very slippery STF, but you keep losing your grip every few seconds. You did your best to keep it on, though.

Torrie reaches her hand out, but there’s no rope to save her now. You think she’s just about to tap!….until Stacy got her head back in the game and broke up the submission.

Now, you’ll have to focus on her for a minute. There’s not much you can do in the pool, which is one of the reasons why you hated this match so much.

She drags you off of Torrie and starts slapping you around a bit. Seems like she doesn’t know what to do either.

That damn Ric Flair. What did you even get out of this? Definitely not a title match that’s for sure.

Either you do a roll up pin or you force them to tap. You’re leaning on the latter. You don’t know your time limit, so you’re gonna have to make do. You scoop Stacy up and slam her back into the pool, eggnog splashing everywhere.

Poor Torrie’s little Santa outfit was almost halfway off of her. Stacy was in the same state. You were smart enough NOT to dress in anything like that. The crowd can have them, but not you!

“You girls have five more minutes!” The referee whisper-shouted.

Five minutes, okay. That’s not bad. Five minutes…

Wait, FIVE MINUTES?! Not good. You start to panic inwardly, and Torrie is the first to catch on.

She comes out of character to check in on you for a second. That is, after she coughs out more eggnog.

“Are you okay?”

“Fine, but five minutes!” You exclaim, nearly losing your own footing, trying to adjust yourself.

You all need to start wrapping it up then. You’re almost disappointed it’s already almost over. Almost.

“Stacy!” You whisper-shout. “You’re gonna have to tap!” When you finish your sentence, you’re already moving to sweep her off her feet.

You really wish it was Torrie, but she’s too busy trying to get herself together. Man, if she threw up, there’s gonna be a problem.

Stacy desperately tries to claw at your arm to escape, to no avail. The referee circles around you two, and before you know it, she is tapping, causing eggnog to splash everywhere.

You let her go and shove her away, and the referee helps you up to raise your arm. You’re just ready to get the fuck out of dodge. You actually think that was the most embarrassing match you’ve been in.

“The winner of the eggnog match, [Name]!”

You snatch your arm from the referee and turn away to walk begrudgingly up the ramp, but don’t forget to bat your hand at the girls and the pool.

Your music blares in your ears, but it all sounds dull. All you care about is hitting the showers.

You’ve won, but at what cost? Sometimes, you really can’t help but hate your job.

As soon as you hit that curtain, Ric Flair gives you a round of applause with a smile. “Bravo!” Shockingly enough, he’s not being annoyingly loud. “Woooo! That was a show!”

“Good enough for you?” You ask sardonically. One of the stagehands passes you a towel, and you thank them. You use it to dry your face and hair. It’s gonna have to do for now.

God, you think you may have gotten eggnog in your ear…

“Hope you’re satisfied.” You have to hit your palm against your ear.

He just laughs, making you narrow your eyes.

“Listen, listen, I just have a deal for you. Because you did the favor of participating in this match, I’ve thought…how would you like to participate in the Royal Rumble?”

“What?!” You exclaim, nearly dropping your towel. “Are you serious?”

“Sure am. You see, I would like to surprise Vince. To keep him on his toes, I’m a bigger threat than he’ll ever know.” Ric explains. “There’s only 30 spots; I’m sure he will fill them quickly. So, you may want to talk to your fellow wrestlers. Maybe they’ll give up a spot.”

That’ll be hard to do. You know for a fact no man is willing to give up a spot like that. You’ll have to drive a hard bargain…

It takes a moment for you to respond. “..Well, I would love to, really! But I wouldn’t know how to get anyone to give up their spot. And I would have to just. I don’t know. I’m not sure.”

It was sprung onto you so suddenly that you weren’t sure what to do. Ric understands, luckily.

“Well, how about this? You take the rest of the night off. Go get cleaned up and think about it. Trust me, both of us are the winners.”

Now, that is an offer you cannot refuse. You’ll have to join the party next time.

For now, you just need to think.

#SCREAM IF YOU WANT IT!#DONT THROW THE TOMATOES DONT DO IT #wwe imagine #wwe x reader #wwf imagine #wwf x reader #wwe attitude series #RVD MY BELOVED #eh no tags for this one too lazyyy

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autisticaradiamegido · 4 months

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day 357

twas the night before deadline, and all thru the house,

i was being hit by the consequences of being a chronic procrastinator, and needing to get my secret santa exchange piece done in time to post tomorrow, and having to render a fucking Background of all things, and thus i didnt remember to do OTHER art today. oops

#day 357 #year 4 #it me #well well well. if it isnt the consequences of my own actions

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sitp-recs · 10 months

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🎶 HD Wireless 2023 - Sitp Recs

After a short hiatus I come bearing Wireless gifts! I was hoping to get started today but a power outage gave me some free hours (and a charged phone) on Thursday night so here we are. The fest has been posting for the past two weeks and these are my favorites so far. I was thinking I might just update this list as I go on through the second half (instead of creating a new one) so pls expect a few reblogs. The idea is to celebrate these amazing works and invite folks to check them out before reveals! Keep in mind that as usual, my picks are 100% personal and based on my own preferences. I strongly recommend checking the full collection. Enjoy!

Fic:

🚬 Don’t hate him when he gets up to leave by @deliciousblizzardshark (M, 2k)

The linens are white and empty, sunlight slanting through the window illuminating a bed that has been deserted. Draco knew Potter would leave; he’s always gone by morning. Draco doesn’t even remember what he looks like in daylight.

🦵Wrong in all the Right Ways by @phdmama (E, 4k)

Draco is pretty sure that Potter is trying to kill him. Not in, like a murdery sort of way. There’s been too much atonement and forgiveness and redemption for that. Too many difficult conversations that ended, more than once, with awkward hugs. Maybe even some tears. They’re not friends obviously, but at the very least, they’ve moved past the past. (Mostly.) So no, Potter’s definitely not trying to kill him in a permanent death sort of way, but more like… In a horny sort of way.

🌃 All I Think About by @skeptiquewrites (T, 4.4k)

Sometimes all it takes is one perfect late summer night in June.

📱 Mirrors inside me by @cavendishbutterfly (E, 6k)

Draco’s been in love with Potter forever. And just because they work together, and they fuck, and they text and break up and get back together regularly doesn’t mean Potter needs to know. In fact, it’s a pretty good reason why he shouldn’t.

🎹 About This Place by @academicdisasterfic (E, 10k)

Harry left everything, including Draco. Harry’s returned to everything, including Draco. Things are never quite so simple, though perhaps they could be. Based on ‘You and I’ by Lady Gaga for Wireless 2023.

🌈 I only want the ones I envy (I envy) by porcelainheart3 (E, 13k)

Despite this arrangement he has with Draco, conducted entirely in the privacy of a dusty stationery cabinet, Harry is definitely not gay. But to appease his friends, he agrees to go on one (1) date with a man. Just to be sure.

🥃 if i could never give you peace by poisonivy206 (E, 17k)

Eleven years after the Battle of Hogwarts, Aurors Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy are forcibly brought together by a new case that's bound to reopen old wounds. Enter a Firewhisky problem, prejudices that never really go away, and an obsession as old as time.

🚙 Rich Friend by @sorrybutblog (E, 18k)

As far as Harry can tell, Draco Malfoy is still rich as hell. He’s just not a wizard anymore. Featuring: Draco Malfoy trying to make it as a Muggle pop star, Harry Potter as our confused and horny hero, bad driving, good music, and the mysterious magic of falling for someone.

🍫 Waking Up Slow by @sweet-s0rr0w, art by @ihopeyoubothstaysafefromharm (E, 22k)

'Twas the night before Christmas, although it’s July / Draco’s a shopkeeper, no-one knows why / There’s hiking and witch caves, freak snowfalls and more / Bad Christmas jumpers, nosy neighbours galore / Narcissa’s here too, but… something’s amiss / And what’s in those chocolates that’s making them kiss?

🪩 Take You Home by @lqtraintracks (E, 26k)

Everybody’s a little fucked up after the war, Draco especially. What starts as hate sex after a night out, eventually turns into something else, something more like comfort. And even though his friends all tell Harry he’s just being used, all Harry’s doing is making sure Draco gets home in one piece. He’s not falling helplessly in love.

🐍 Sun Thief by @floydig, art by BlackRose532 (E, 28k)

It’s 2005, and Draco Malfoy says, “Fuck the Ministry,” Harry works as a handyman in muggle London, and Draco should really stop pissing off the Squib gangs. Or: Harry beats up a pimp and isn’t sorry about it, Draco deals black market potions, and they’re shagging. Again.

🍊 Nothing But You On My Mind by @moonflower-rose (M, 29k)

Potter has been in Australia on an internship for almost a year, and Draco cannot wait for him to get back home. They'll finally have a chance to talk about their feelings for each other. What could possibly go wrong? Loads, as it turns out.

🌊 What We Left Behind by peachydreamxx (E, 33k)

Harry's recovering from an injury. Malfoy's recovering from heartbreak. Beaten down and bruised, Harry takes up Malfoy's offer to stay at his secluded seaside cottage in Dorset. It'll be good to get away from it all. It's only for a few days, and it's only so he can heal. Nothing else. Digging up past feelings will only make matters worse, and besides, Malfoy doesn't feel the same way. Does he?

🏝️ LA, Who Am I To Love You? by @epitomereally (E, 42k) ♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️

Harry’s summer in LA is not going as expected. Pansy Parkinson keeps inviting him to parties in the Hollywood Hills and harassing him to finally go to the physical therapist, Blaise Zabini keeps slipping new strains of his company’s magical weed into Harry’s pockets in hopes of an endorsement, and Draco Malfoy keeps having sex with everyone but Harry.

🧩 The Waiting by @oknowkiss (E, 43.5k)

It’s been almost ten years since Draco Malfoy disappeared during a routine Curse Breaker training exercise. Harry, his partner in more ways than one, is determined to figure out why. As the past resurfaces and the present fades into confusion, Harry discovers the only thing more unreliable than memory is love.

🐶 Everybody Hates a Tourist by @wolfpants (E, 51k)

On a stag do in sunny Brighton with the Gryffindor lads, the last person Harry expects to run into is Draco Malfoy. After a glimpse of Malfoy’s Muggle life in Britain’s gay capital, Harry’s curiosity gets the better of him and he finds himself returning to the seaside again and again, drawn to the city, drawn to this new version of Malfoy that Harry barely recognises from school.

Art:

📸 Alive by @itsphantasmagoria (E)

Harry is lost after the final battle, but he finds comfort from an unexpected source.

🎙️ Why don't you like me? by @caroll-in (T)

Failing to ask Harry out, Draco deals with his feelings in a very dramatic fashion.

🥂 Shivers and Cold Champagne by @maesterchill (T)

Sometimes, you meet someone in the club, and you just know...they’re all in.

🕶️ keep driving by @babooshkart (M)

cocaine, side boob, choke her with a sea view

#hd wireless 2023 #sitp recs

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byima · 5 months

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December Prompt 6: eyes

hi, I'm sick of playing with my post-canon timeline, so today I wrote a TVEL oneshot. :)

Husband,

I woke up in your arms with thoughts of space. Not only because of the way you hold me, no matter how hot or cold, no matter the bed’s width. But I wonder how I can wake up loving you more when I already love you so. Can a heart have the space for an affection like this? Daily, I breathe you in and my heart, my poor heart, grows to accommodate a multiplying, ever-abiding love for you, my husband. For our family. Surely it has doubled in size in these last five years. And it will triple in ten, and so on, and so on.

Come find me, my love. My heart is without limit, it seems, when you are with me.

He found her, though she didn’t make it easy. When, at last, he spotted her by the old mill house, a scene fit to be painted–bonnetless, relaxed in the grass, the laughing stream, the turning wheel–he said nothing, just held up her love note with a raised brow.

“Took you long enough,” she said in greeting.

“What are ye doing here, mo ghraidh?”

She didn’t move, remaining prone, one hand out to the side, fingering the ribbons of her discarded bonnet, the other on her abdomen, rising and falling with her steady breaths.

“Recalling you, wet as a selkie, rising up from the mill water, looking like a myth in your own right,” she explained.

“Wet as a selkie, was I?” He came to a stop before her, hands on his hips. “Yer full of whimsy and hyperbole this morning.”

“I wanted to stretch my legs a bit.”

“A ride wouldnae suffice?” He countered.

She ignored him, continuing, “I thought to make it to the wheat fields, but I couldn’t manage any further than this.”

His face changed, brows drawn tight with concern. “Annabeth…”

“Are you going to keep standing there or are you going to lie with me?”

He immediately lowered to one knee, repeating again as he found his place alongside her, “Annabeth…”

“It’s written all over your face, my love,” her smile was soft, her hand subconsciously gentle on the soft curve of her belly. “But I still want to tell you, properly.”

He shifted until he was on his side, braced on his elbow so he could study her face.

“'Twas no a sour stomach plaguing ye fer those months, wasnae it?” His Scots accent thickened with the rise of emotion.

“No,” she said succinctly.

“Are ye…?” His hand, so large, but tentative, settled on her abdomen.

“I felt a quickening days ago but– I was unsure,” her eyes shimmered, beauty and sadness tearing his heart out. “I was so afraid–”

He made a pained noise, no doubt remembering their loss, but also forever weakened at the sight of her tears. “Those greeting eyes,” he gathered her close, pressing his mouth to her hairline. “I cannae bear it.”

Her eyes closed as he held her, brushing words of comfort, confidence and assurance, on every part of her face his lips touched.

“And now? Tell me, are ye still afraid?”

“No, no…” she laughed, watery but a true laugh, sure as a bell. “I am so full. My heart is so full.”

“So we’ll be telling our daughter another wee one will soon be underfoot.”

Annabeth nodded, sighing when his thumb brushed the remaining tears from her temples.

“She’s wanting a sister,” he warned.

“I know. She’s been whispering to my belly for a month now, ever since she saw Clarisse with her new baby sister.”

“I cannae blame the wee lass. Her da’s been a-whispering as well.”

Her eyes widened, searching his face for honesty. “Have you been?”

“Aye. At night, when ye’ve gone to Morpheus. Or during the day, whenever I find ye laying about.” He stroked a finger down her cheek. “Ye’ve been so tired.”

“Well,” she smiled, “It’s never easy work, growing your heavy-headed babies.”

“But ye’ve done it before. And by God’s grace ye’ll do it again.”

She nodded, closing her eyes as a peace settled over the both of them.

#mypjofic #ima's annual december prompt fail #tvel #am i allowed to write oneshots in the TVEL universe if I haven't finished the main fic?#percabeth #p&p x pjo au #percy jackon and the olympians #also to Scots “greeting” can mean to welcome somebody #but it can also describe the action of somebody crying

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twostepstyless · 1 year

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Just Us

Fic Advent Calendar Day 22

Advent Calendar Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Authors Note: Everyones arriving to spend Christmas at Y/N and Harry's tomorrow and they have so much to do. Vince gets sent to doggy day care and Harry thinks they need to get something out their system because it'll no longer be just the two of them.

As always, reblogs, likes and feedback of any and all types is loved and appreciated!! - G xo

Word Count: 4.7k

NSFW - 18+ only

———

‘Twas the night before, the night before, the night before Christmas and all through the house, all the creatures were stirring even a… golden retriever named Vinnie. Well, that doesn’t quite have the same ring to it as the original story, but you get the idea. The house was busy. Today was the last day of peace as they had so-called it this morning when they woke up. Tomorrow, they would be awaiting the arrival of their families who were spending Christmas with them at their home this year, so it was all hands and paws on deck today to get organised for everyone coming. Well paws were not so much helpful, but more a fluffy distraction who had taken to hop up onto the just-made beds for a roll around as soon as Harry or Y/N looked away. On a normal day, they would think their dogs’ antics were cute and that he was just playing a fun game and in his furry head that is what it still was, but Y/N and Harry had so much to do today, they went for the next best option and Harry was sent off to make a phone call.

Vinnie’s favourite place on the planet, second only to being with his parents at home, was at doggy day care. He didn’t go often but when he did, he had the best time ever, he was well cared for there and always came home exhausted after a full-on day of play. They should have thought ahead and had him booked in for today, but Harry put his best pouty voice on and called up ‘Barkingham Palace’ where he goes for day care and went begging if they could squeeze him in today. They loved Vince at day care so jumped at the chance to have him in for the day and said they would swing by and pick him up.

“Har, d’you think you could make Vin’s bag up for day care?” Y/N asked him as she passed him in the kitchen, off to launder another set of bedding for one of the guest rooms where Y/N’s parents would be staying.

“C’mon pup,” Harry called and whistled for Vinnie who came in carrying one of the throw cushions from the guest room bed Y/N was currently cleaning in his mouth, “Jesus Christ, Vincent.” Harry grabbed the cushion from Vinnie’s mouth and left it on the countertop out of their playful dog’s immediate reach. “You’re on one today, aren’t you? Good thing your Mum didn’t catch y’with that cushion, I reckon she would’ve returned one of your Christmas presents, Vin,” Harry gave Vince the scratches behind his ears that he so desperately crave as his golden fur covered head nudged into Harry’s hand as his fluffly bum wiggled in excitement. Harry smiled before he reached into one of the cupboards for the childrens packed lunch box they had, that had ‘Vincent’ stitched on the front in a loopy font with a paw print next to it. “Y’gonna have such a good day, Alice and Timmy are coming t’pick you up,” Harry narrated Vince’s schedule to him as he got the Tupperware out that they had set aside for day care trips. “Then you’re going to day care, and you’ll have loadsa fun, running round with all y’mates, and eating all the snacks m’sure and sniffing all the arseholes you want,” Harry smiled down at their happy dog, who’s tailed wagged even more enthusiastically as Harry told him about the dog’s day ahead. Harry scooped out some of Vince’s food into the container, enough for his day away and then packed into his little lunch bag, popping in a packet of his favourite treats on top of the Tupperware before wandering round to his bed to pick up one of his favourite tennis balls and the tiny little stuffed bunny that Vince went to bed with every night and always had with him for every nap he’s taken since he was a puppy. The bunny was now so discoloured, they couldn’t even hazard a guess at what colour the bunny’s fur was when they first purchased it, it was also comically small in comparison to the dog that toted it round. Harry packed them both into his little bag just in case he wanted to play with his ball or needed his bunny to take a nap while at day care. As Harry finished getting Vince ready, by clipping him in his collar and leash for Alice and Timmy to take him out to the van that would take him to day care, the doorbell rang, alerting them to the day care workers’ presence. Vinnie took off running to the front door, yanking Harry with him as he held the dogs lead and lunch box. Harry opened the front door and Vince knew better than to take off running when the door was opened, so stood on the threshold tapping his paws in excitement at seeing his favourite caretakers other than his parents in front of him.

“Vincent, y’gonna take y’lunch for me?” Harry asked as Vinnie looked up at him, before Harry held the lunch bag down to the dog who took the handle in his mouth to carry it to day care with him. Harry passed the leash over to Timmy as Y/N appeared in the hallway behind him as they both told Vince to have fun, with a few farewell pats from them and licks from Vinnie before Harry closed the door.

“I love him more than I can comprehend,” Y/N began, “but I have never been so thankful for doggy day care in my life,” she sighed as they moved back up the hallway.

***

They were back in the guest room that Y/N’s parents would be staying in, this time without the dog rolling round in the bed, making up the bed with the freshly washed and dried bedding set.

“I don’t know how I ever did this when I lived alone,” Y/N panted as they wrestled the duvet cover on between the pair of them, surely there’s an easier way of doing this.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Harry groaned in agreement as they laid it flat thinking, they had managed to corral the bundles of duvet into the cover only to see it was folded over on itself, inside the cover. Y/N fake cried as she stamped her bare feet against the floor as if she was having a tantrum at the sight before she unfastened the bottom over the duvet cover and all but crawled inside it to try and fix their error. She flopped out onto the floor of the spare room as they finally closed the duvet cover and Harry shook it up to settle it and smooth it down on the bed. As Y/N lay on the floor, Harry worked around her to finish making up the bed, fluffing the pillows and placing the throw cushions, including the one Vinnie had in his mouth a little while ago that Harry managed to sneak back into the bedroom without Y/N noticing. Finishing the job, Harry stood with his hands on his hips as he looked at Y/N sprawled out on her back in a pair of joggers and a tank top that she had stripped her jumper off from over when she got too hot, her hair was piled in something resembling a bird’s nest on top of her head, and she was so beautiful. Harry watched her in wonder as she stretched from her place on the floor, all her joints popping and clicking as they stretched then relaxed. He saw as her hand came up to rub at her tired eyes, wiping away remnants of sleep and a stray eyelash that got caught in her eye and caused it to water profusely causing a tear to run into her hair.

“Alright, pretty, what’s left on the list?” he asked as he broke himself away from his silent admiration.

Y/N fished around in her pocket for her phone to pull up her notes app, “mum an’ dads’s room done, y’mum’s room is done, just waiting on the sheets drying for the other spare room for Gem, we need to sort out the pull outs in both our offices. Y’did clean up your office?” she asked, looking over the top of her phone from her place on the ground.

“I did,” Harry said. He had, mostly. He’s got a couple bits left to tidy up but she doesn’t need to know that.

“Okay, so the pull-out beds, hoover the downstairs and our room is probably needing a look at for my own sanity because it looks a shit-tip jus’ now,” she sighed, putting her phone back in her pocket before reaching both hands up in the air, silently asking Harry to help her up. He gripped her arms and helped pull her to feet with a loud groan from her.

“Right, well, I’ll get up and hoover tomorrow morning, y’know Vince is just going to get hair everywhere when he comes back tonight, so may as well do it fresh tomorrow before everyone arrives,” he watched her fluff up the pillows once more on the bed before checking up on the little basket she had left in all the rooms with little necessities their families might need or want over their stay.

“Y’sure?” Y/N asked as they exited the bedroom, closing the door tight behind them so when Vinnie arrived home later, he wouldn’t go in and mess up their hard work.

“Mhm, you can take the dog out for his walk in the morning, and I’ll do the hoover and last clean round before y’come back,” Harry confirmed, “the pull-outs won’t take long to sort so let’s shuffle that down the list, can’t do the other bed til the sheets are dry, so our room?” he asked. Harry had other reasons for wanting the couple to head toward their own bedroom right now. Today was their last day of having the house to themselves for nearly a week and he’d be damned if he didn’t plan on making the utmost use out of that. Plus, have you seen Y/N, how could he resist.

They entered their bedroom as Y/N took a seat on the edge of their unmade bed and looked around, it wasn’t as untidy as she had in her head. “It’s mostly your shit that’s lying around anyway,” she smirked at him.

“Oi, I resent that,” he replied.

“H, sweetheart, look around,” Y/N laughed.

“Okay, so you’re not wrong, jus’ you take a break then, I’ll sort this out, y’can watch me be a domestic goddess,” Harry threw a wink over his shoulder at her as she kicked her legs up onto the bed as she watched Harry begin to clean up his mess.

“Try not to chuck it all back in your junk drawers, y’just cleaned them out,” Y/N pleaded.

***

Harry was ready to put his plan into action, he had tidied up most of his things as Y/N relaxed on their bed as they made idle conversation, but the more Harry looked at her in her casual state, the further it was riling him up.

“Is it warm in here, or is it jus’ me?” he asked, looking over at her as her eyes flickered over him.

“No, s’quite warm, I probably need to adjust the heat actually, let me add it to the list,” she went to grab her phone but got distracted as Harry’s hands ventured to the hem of his t-shirt and began tugging it up his sculpted body.

“M’bloody roasting,” he said, innocently, letting his t-shirt fall into the hamper of laundry he must take to wash when they’re done.

“Y-yeah, y’look hot,” Y/N stammered out a little, he always rendered her breathless when he peeled off his shirt, his skin had a sheen to it that made the ink imbedded into his skin appear darker as his tattoos moved with his body.

“Mm,” Harry hummed, fanning himself with his hand for a second to add to the effect, “y’look hot too, baby, positively scorching,” Harry took careful steps towards where she lay on their bed, “do you maybe want to lose a layer, don’t want you overheating, my love,” Harry kneed up onto the bed so he was beside her, letting his fingers trail with a featherlight touch over her sweat pant covered leg before finding the drawstring waist and letting his finger twirl through the bow that was tied there.

Y/N nodded shyly, and Harry’s finger twitched, pulling the bow out of its knot, and letting his hands run under the waistband, the pads of his fingertips felt wintery against her heated skin. He pulled his hands wide as the fabric of her sweatpants pulled taught over his hands as he peeled them down her legs and off, tossing them into the hamper alongside his shirt.

“Better?” he asked, his eyes trailing up her legs, seeing where her underwear that was cut high on her hips dug into the plush skin, leaving marks, that Harry would like to trace with his tongue, in its wake.

“Yeah, loads,” Y/N breathed, watching closely as Harry’s hand met the skin of her thigh as he started to trace mindless patterns on the surface, goosebumps popping over her skin although they certainly weren’t from the cold, as she shivered under his gaze and whisper like touch.

“So, I was thinking…” Harry trailed off, his own gaze locked to the finger he was using as a drawing tool as it climbed higher on her leg until it began to trace the line left by her knickers before he snapped the elastic of her underwear against her skin as she jumped, not from pain but from the surprise, as a mischievous smirk graced his lips. “This is our last day of just us, and as much as I’m looking forward to having our family here to celebrate, m’going to miss it being just us,” his eyes flickered up to hers, she’d bet her pupils are blown as Harry eased her into the fun, he wanted them to have.

“Are you?” she whispered as Harry nodded, “what are y’going to miss?” Y/N asked, finally coherent enough to lean into whatever game he was playing.

“I’m going t’miss us being able to do nothing and not having to play host, I’m going t’miss see you walk around in next to nothing,” he laid down next to her on his side, his hand trailed further, playing with the edge of her tank top, fingers brushing the skin of her abdomen as he fidgeted. “I’m especially going t’miss being able to have you wherever, however, whenever we want,” he whispered as his head got close to hers before he placed a chaste kiss to the corner of her lips. “Don’t get me wrong,” he continued, with a shrug, “I’ll still have you, but maybe just in here, with the door closed, in the middle of the night while y’promise me you’ll be quiet,” he nudged her nose with his own. “You can do that, can’t you? Be quiet when I ask you too?” Harry’s eyes searched hers. Y/N’s hands had joined his in their exploration, shy touches and brushes to his exposed torso, dipping down over the front of his joggers where she could feel him hardening under the fabric. Y/N nodded at his question. “Good, m’glad you’ll be quiet for me, but I think, since it’s our last day of just us, do you think y’can be loud for me instead?” his hand landed on her hip as he massaged the full of her hip and thigh under his touch, “because I’ll really miss that, not being able to hear you,” he placed a kiss to her cheek, “cry,” another kiss peppered on her face, “and wail,” kiss, “and scream,” kiss, “and plead,” kiss, “and whine,” kiss, “and moan all for me,” his kisses ended on her neck, before he whispered against the skin, “so will y’do that for me right now? I’ll make you feel so good as long as you’re nice and loud for me, d’you want that?”

Y/N could only nod in response. “Nuh-uh, remember what I said, I want to hear you, I need words, my love,” he teased.

“Yes, yes,” she panted, “I’ll be loud, please Harry, want it so bad,” she whined.

“There’s my good girl,” he smiled at her in pride before his lips finally sealed hers in a kiss, rolling her onto her back as he came to hover over the top of her as he deepened their kiss. Her lips were full and soft from where she had been chewing her lower lip as Harry teased as he spoke, he needed to taste her, his tongue split his lips and traced the seam of her mouth as his wandering hand snapped the elastic of her underwear against her waist again, hard, causing her to gasp into the kiss, letting Harry’s tongue brush into her mouth as he lost himself in the feel of their melding tongues and shared breath. He was hard under the layers of fabric, and he just needed a little bit of relief, so he let his pelvis drop down towards hers as he ground against her panty-covered core lightly. Even through the fabric, he could feel the head radiating from her centre. He broke their kiss as he lifted his head to look at her, her neck strained as she tried to reach his lips with her own, not happy about ending their kiss. Both of lips were spit-slicked from the kiss and it set something off in both of them as Y/N let her mouth fall open and stuck her tongue out as Harry’s hand came up to grip her jaw.

“Is that what you want?” he grinned, “m’good girl wants me to spit in her mouth?”

“Uh-huh” she managed to get out from her opened mouth as she watched Harry let his saliva pool in his mouth before seeing a glob fall from his mouth, her eyes fluttering closed as it landed on her outstretched tongue as Harry moaned at the sight of her mouth closing and her swallowing it down.

“Fuck, y’fucking filthy, baby,” Harry moaned, his hands reaching for the hem of her tank top and began to shuck it up and over her breasts letting it catch around her neck as Y/N moaned at the taste of his saliva as Harry’s tongue found her pert nipples. Harry licked, sucked and bit at her nipples as Y/N whined and let her hips tick forward against his, not happy at feeling him still in his sweatpants so she let her hand find the waist of them and began pushing as best she could with one hand, before she gripped Harry’s hair and tugged harshly with her other hand pulling him away from the home he’d made in her cleavage as he sucked as many marks as he could litter across her skin. He moaned loudly at the pleasurable burn she applied when pulling at his hair.

“Off,” she demanded, pushing at the jogging bottoms.

“Ask nicely,” he quirked an eyebrow at her.

“No,” she said defiantly, “off,” and before Harry had the chance to retaliate, she moved them, flipping them over as she straddled his waist, he could feel her heat and the pooled wetness seep through the cotton of her underwear and leave a sticky glaze under his belly button, sticking the trail of hairs, that led under his sweatpants, to his flushed skin, before she wriggled back and took his trousers with her, leaving him straining against the heather grey of his briefs as she sat atop him, grinding herself down against his hardened cock in his underwear as they both moaned at the friction. She quickly ripped the bunched-up tank top the rest of the way off her body as her own hands found her tits and began toying with her nipples as Harry watched her moan at the sensation as his hands found her hips and continued her rocking against him. Her mouth was watering, she wanted to taste him all of him. She stood to her knees as Harry looked down at where she had been sat.

“Look at that, made a mess on me, soaked all the way through y’knickers and everything,” Harry looked, admiring the damp patch she had left on him. She smirked, enjoying the sight herself, but wanted to reveal what was under the wet fabric even more, as she began to shuffle down his body. “What’re you doing?” he asked.

“Nice an’ loud for me, okay, gorgeous?” Y/N turned Harry’s earlier request of her on him before she gripped the elastic of his briefs and tugged them down his legs, not waiting long as his cock bobbed free from the fabric constraints as she licked a stripe on the underside of his length, wetting his shaft before swirling her tongue around his sensitive tip as Harry moaned, loudly, into the room, his hand finding the back of her head as she took him into her mouth, letting her saliva drip down him to help her hand that had come to work his shaft that she hadn’t taken in her mouth.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck! Y/N, oh my god,” Harry whimpered as she released him from her mouth, letting her tongue lick his slit where he spilled pre-cum for her, tasting him as much as she could. She huffed a laugh through her nose before her mouth went back to work, bobbing and suctioning as she reached his tip and back down again, taking a little more of him each time until just her thumb and index were gripping his base as he touched the back of her throat causing him to groan and spew profanities as well as every pet name he’d ever called her. She came off of him to give herself a break as her hand went back to work, keeping her grip tight on him just how he liked as her wrist twisted and tugged at him, thumb brushing his slit every time she reached the top as Harry’s hands pushed the hair that escaped her birds nest style away from her face so he could see her lost in the act of pleasuring him. Her tongue migrated, painting over his balls before dipping lower and finding the patch of skin between his balls and his tightest entrance as she lapped at it happily as Harry’s thighs began to quiver.

“No, no more,” Harry panted, pulling her away with the fist he had on top of her head, he both wanted her to continue and for him to try and put off his orgasm as long as possible until he made her come, but she was playing a dangerous game with him. He caught his breath as Y/N giggled at his reaction. “Oh, is that funny?” he asked once he’d mostly recovered as Y/N nodded, “hands and knees, arse up,” Harry demanded, getting to his knees on their bed as Y/N moved into position, looking back over her shoulder at him, wiggling her bum as Harry ripped her underwear down so they were caught in the crooks of her knees. “I’ll show you funny,” he taunted, coming up behind her before landing a loud smack across the full of her cheek, her ass jiggling from the spank as Harry squeeled at the sensation before pushing back against his hand.

“Please Harry, please,” she cried.

“Please what?” he massaged the reddening skin, “tell me what you want and y’can have it.”

“I want, I need y’to fuck me, hard please, need it so bad, baby, I’ll be so good for you,” Y/N pleaded, grateful that they were alone.

“Good girl,” Harry gripped his length and painted it through her wet folds before finding her entrance where she wept for him and pushed his profusely leaking tip in. “This enough baby, jus’ like this yeah?” he mocked as he rocked just his tip into her.

“Fuck Harry, no, all of you, want it all, I can take it, please,” she wailed and tried pushing back, but his grip on her hips rendered her motionless and in one swift push of his hips, he thrust his entire length inside of her, her walls clamping around him as his head tipped back between his shoulder blades at the tight sensation she had him gripped in as she screamed at the pleasurable burn and stretch, her arms nearly buckling from under her. “Hard please,” she whimpered out her request again as Harry lost any sense of where they were as his powerful thrusts knocked them both breathless. The slap of skin echoing across the bedroom and travelling out into the hall as their bedroom door was left open. He spanked her across her bum again, finally releasing the grip he had on her hips so she could work back against him.

“That’s it, good girl, look at you, working for it,” Harry purred in her ear as he slumped over her back, his hips going at a rapid pace. “I want you to rub y’little clit for me, okay? I want you to get yourself right to the edge,” he moaned as he kissed the back of her neck before he sat back on his hips pulling her so his chest was flush with her back as she was sat on his lap near enough as Harry began to thrust up into her as Y/N’s hand trailed to her front and began rubbing tight little circles on her clit, her cries of pleasure like music to Harry’s ear as he sunk his teeth into her shoulder.

“M'close,” she purred as Harry slapped her hand away from her clit quickly.

“Let me taste,” he gripped her wrist and brought her hand up so he could lean over her shoulder to suck on her fingers that had been pleasuring her. He moaned around the digits, it wasn’t the same as drinking her straight from the source, but he can’t deny this was a pretty good way to get his fix. “Y’gonna cum all over m’cock aren’t you? You’re going to scream my name as you burst all over me,” the latter was a statement rather than a question as Y/N frantically nodded her head adding in squeaks of ‘yes’ after remembering he wanted to hear her.

Harry’s hand found her clit and began working it, pinching, and rolling and rubbing at flicking as if he was being paid to do so, his thrusts slowed ever so slightly but were as deep and hard as he could possibly manage as both were knocked silly, only able to get out the others name.

With one last hard thrust, Y/N collapsed forward as her orgasm rocked through her body, screaming his name as her body shook as she drenched him, the fluttering and pulsing and immediate gush of fluid sent Harry over as he came, hard. Loud groans emitting from the base of his throat as shivers wracked his body.

It could have been 10 seconds, minutes, or hours. As feeling began to return to their bodies, as they lay on their sides facing each other, starting in their fingertips and rushing through their nerve endings in a comforting warmth, like stepping into a bath on a cold day as they blinked wearily at each other before huffing a breath.

“Glad we got that out the system before everyone arrived,” Harry laughed, kissing the corner of her lips briefly before sticking another on the full of her bottom lip.

“I wonder if the other sheets are done in the dryer because I think I might need to put ours through a spin cycle before everyone arrives now,” Y/N replied before falling into a giggly kiss with her loud love.

———

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