#Christmas Cake T-Shirt | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

angelicdanvers · 5 months

Text

BRACELETS | luke castellan.

pairing: luke castellan x fem!reader

summary: y/n finds herself a friend to celebrate her special day with. takes place before the lightning thief. luke & y/n are the same age. wc: 1.9k key: n/n = nickname

taglist: @repostingmyfavs @rinisfruity14 @soobin-chois | pm or comment to be added <3

a/n: merry christmas to those who celebrate!! this goes out to all my loves who just wish for one person to embrace them and spread happiness <3

sixteen.

it was finally y/n’s sixteenth birthday, and once again, not a single person to celebrate with. being a child of demeter was sweet, everyone was kind all around, but y/n simply couldn’t find her people.

she got along with everyone, no one had anything against her. sure, older kids would pick on her from time to time, but that was an automatic agreement she signed when joining camp two years ago.

she just couldn’t develop as strong of a bond with anyone. she’d sometimes fall asleep with silent tears, wondering if she was broken or missing something key. if everyone was nice, why couldn’t she trust? form a relation?

the night wielded a nice breeze, wafting through y/n’s locks as she sat by the strawberry fields, playing with the leaves. a slight glow emitted from her fingertips as she trailed them along the soil, a small smile on her lips.

glancing towards the amphitheater, she could see those her age dancing and singing, having the time of their lives. the younger kids had dispersed due to curfew, she noted.

they all seemed to be in glee.

snapping her eyes shut, she fought back the intrusive thoughts and inhaled a sharp breath. opening her eyes, y/n grabbed some of the soil, stacking it into three layers. grabbing a strawberry, she delicately placed it atop and pulled away to admire her makeshift cake.

“happy birthday, n/n — happy sweet sixteenth,” she said loud enough just for her to hear. looking up at the glimmering stars, y/n decided to make a wish.

all i wish for is belonging. true belonging.

y/n went back to her cake, grabbing the strawberry and picking herself up from the ground. dusting herself off, she took her water bottle and gently rinsed the strawberry. placing it between her teeth and softly biting into it, she savoured the taste as she walked down towards the amphitheater and then the cabins.

she felt stupid for not wearing a proper jacket or shirt, but she did enjoy the fresh air leaving a chill to her skin. y/n was hoping her black tee would blend her into the night, especially as she neared the amphitheater. she wasn’t entirely keen on interacting more at the moment — it was past twelve and she knew she couldn’t match their energy.

“hey, y/n?”

the girl halted in her tracks. turning on her heel, she came face to face with none other than the loveable hermes boy lightly jogging up to her.

“hi luke,” she greeted, passing him a small smile.

luke smiled back immediately. after a silent beat, he spoke again. “i just wanted to say, ha —“

“hey, luke! get over here, man, we need your backup vocals right now!” one of the hermes kids yelled, y/n couldn’t tell who from their distance.

“yeah, give me a sec!” he screamed, turning back to the girl.

“no dude, we need you RIGHT NOW! we’re gonna be mashed potatoes if you don’t!”

luke rolled his eyes, positioning himself back towards the theatre. “can’t you see i’m busy?”

“you can talk to anyone about anything whenever, luke! this is a one time exclusive!”

“stop quoting missy elliot, and no, give me two minutes!” he replied, a slight whine in his voice.

a scoff followed, “we’re gonna be eliminated, castellan!”

exasperated by bickering with his brothers, luke sighed and nodded. “i’ll be right there!”

the boy instantly spun back around, wanting to wish the demeter girl a happy birthday.

she was at least 30 feet ahead of him, speed walking away with a slight slump to her shoulders.

luke’s smile dropped. another day, another day of being unable to fully attend to her. these countless moments have occurred more than he could fathom — he was always pulled away from the one girl he didn’t want to be pulled away from.

and yet here she was, disappearing out of his sight once again. “this karaoke better be worth it,” he grumbled under his breath as he trudged back.

the next morning was calm, not many campers up to anything special. there was a soft pitter patter on the window panes, but y/n didn’t mind. the rain rejuvenated her.

throwing on her raincoat but paying no mind to her shorts or shoes, y/n left the cabin with her stash of bracelet material in her pocket and sprinted through the paths, heading to chiron and mr. d.

luke’s attention immediately perked up at the bolting girl, and he realized this might just be the one time he can say anything.

subtly running after her, he watched as she entered the big house and rather excitedly. he followed inside, keeping a distance when he heard her begin to speak to chiron.

he didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but he did hear it all.

“may i call my dad?”

“of course, y/n. here,” luke could hear the shuffle of a phone, and footsteps coming closer to the edge of chiron’s office.

the dial tone was evident. it went through three times before he heard the young girl speak.

“hey dad. hope you’re doing good. should've known you weren't gonna pick up. i turned sixteen today, fyi. hope your kids are doing fine and same with that blonde bimbo,” she spat, making luke’s eyes widen. “i’m not coming home for christmas. might be early to determine but i’m sure i won’t. bye.”

she walked back to chiron, and luke could hear light sniffles coming from her. his heart sank.

“for all it matters, i’m here, we all are. happy birthday, y/n. you’ve always made us proud, you’ve always been an asset to us, you deserve to know that no matter what,” chiron reassured, and luke could hear the girl softly thank him.

stepping outside of chiron’s office and shutting the door behind her, y/n broke into a sob in the hallway. it was one thing to have others not be around, but when family abandons, nothing feels real anymore.

luke observed as she stopped her tears almost as quick as they started, wiping her eyes as she headed towards him, unbeknownst to her.

“uh,” luke cleared his throat, “hey, y/n.”

y/n’s face warmed up, startled at his presence. hurriedly fixing herself up, she nodded. “hi luke.”

“i’m sorry for last night,” he apologized, scratching the nape of his neck. “i was trying to talk to you but i guess i got carried away with everyone else,” he paused, looking down, “as usual. i’m sorry.”

y/n shook her head. “it’s okay. don’t apologize, life happens.”

“right,” luke acknowledged awkwardly. “speaking of life,” he approached her in a friendly manner, “i wanted to wish you a happy birthday last night. you’re sixteen, one of the biggest milestones in anyone’s life!”

his enthusiasm made the corners of y/n’s lips tug up, and she watched intently as he continued. “you deserve an amazing birthday, and i’m going to give that to you.”

y/n was not expecting that.

“c’mon, let’s go.” luke held his hand out to her, his dark curls practically bouncing in excitement. a sweet grin crept onto her face, making the young boy smile even wider. she accepted his hand, and the second he felt her palm within his, the fragility made him realize he could never be a part of something that’d hurt her ever again.

she was stronger than anyone he knew, enduring all the shit the world put upon her. he just knew he couldn’t be one of them to do the same.

together, the two gracefully left the big house, trampling down to camp and rushing towards god knows where.

somehow, they ended up at the pavilions, and without a second thought, y/n pulled out her bracelet material. luke was confused but watched eagerly as she carefully took the little sacks out.

“wanna make some friendship bracelets?”

“friendship bracelets?” luke asked, unsure of the concept.

y/n nodded. “today’s the day someone willingly decided to hang out with me. i was going to make some alone but if you want, we can create matching ones and mark our friendship.”

luke grinned toothily, “so we’re friends now?”

y/n nodded, “i’d love to be, if you don’t mind.”

his eyes screamed happiness, “i definitely don’t mind.”

the two taped down their threads, choosing colours that work cohesively with one another’s. “now you’re gonna wanna take this thread and do a tuck-knot with it,” y/n explained, showing the boy to her left the steps.

after getting the basics down, the two fell into a comfortable silence, threading away and adding some cute hand-made clay beads here and there. “i’m not too childish for wanting to do this, right?” y/n suddenly asked, a nervous smile on her face.

luke shook his head and gave her a hearty grin. “i don’t think there should ever be such thing as “too childish”, sucks the life out of everyone,” he looked back down at the bracelet, “plus, when you’re a demigod, what else is there to do? play video games? we’d be dead in minutes.”

y/n laughed. luke froze.

he’d never heard her laugh this much. she sounded pretty.

“you’re not wrong,” she slowly caught her breathing and softly chuckled. “are you close to finishing your’s?”

the hermes boy nodded and watched intently as y/n’s delicate fingers tutored him on how to securely tie the ends of the bracelet. watching her move so effortlessly made his heart skip a beat — she was perfect.

even though this was the smallest activity they could ever do, she was perfect at it. it made him wonder why he didn’t seize the opportunity to be her friend beforehand.

“hey, y/n?”

“yes, luke?”

“i just wanted to say,” his breath lightly hitched when she began placing the bracelet on his wrist to make sure it was of right measurement, “that, uh, you’re really pretty.”

now it was y/n’s turn to freeze.

“but, i’m not doing all of this to just be your boyfriend or whatever. hell, we’ve just begun our friendship,” he stifled a small, sweet laugh, “so when i say this i really just mean it from the bottom of my heart. i don’t want it to influence you in any way, i just want you to know how i’ve seen you for the past two years.

“you’re gentle and loving, not to mention stealthy and incredibly intelligent. i love whenever i look over and you’re always doing something that captivates me. i’ve been an idiot to admire you from afar for this long, but you’ve always deserved to know and be appreciated. i’m sorry i couldn’t give that to you sooner.”

y/n looked into luke’s eyes, somber traversing in her’s. “may i hug you?”

luke nodded, and y/n wrapped him up in her arms. the boy held tightly onto her, a sudden thought of losing her intruding his mind of peace. “happy birthday, y/n,” he whispered into her ear as they continued to embrace.

“thank you, luke. this means the world to me.”

luke now knew he had to give her the world, no matter what.

their matching bracelets would only be a reminder of what there was, what there will be and what will be gone.

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan x y/n #charlie bushnell #luke castellan oneshot #percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo #pjotv #percy jackson x reader #pjo x reader #pjo x you #charlie bushnell x reader

2K notes · View notes

yellowharrington · 3 months

Text

sugar sweet -- carmy berzatto x reader

pairing + fandom: carmen "carmy" berzatto x reader, the bear fx

word count: ~2.5k

warnings: brief mention of body image issues (not towards reader) and suicide (mikey's death), eating dessert and a lot of food talk, gn!reader (but mention of wearing heels), use of y/n briefly in texts. reader is mentioned as an accountant or adjacent professional person and smoking is mentioned (reader and carmy). please let me know if i missed anything :)

a/n: hey team !! i hope y'all enjoy this fluffy little blorbo about carmy's birthday bc i needed to write about being soft to him. this is an old wip i finally finished so pls rb and leave feedback and comments ily

summary: it's carmy's birthday and you want to make it special for him again.

-`♡´-

It’s not that Carmy doesn’t like his birthday.

No, it’s not that.

It’s just that he’s never had a good one.

When he was 9, his mom tried to make him a birthday cake. French vanilla, with buttercream icing, multicoloured sprinkles on top. But she had somehow managed to get so frustrated that she had thrown the whisk across the kitchen, the burnt cake thrown in the sink, and taken to the backyard for her millionth cigarette of the day. She was breaking down, as usual, and Carmy was the one that had to go out and rub her back and tell her it was fine. That he was fine, that he didn’t matter, and no, she didn’t ruin his birthday.

When he was 13, he ended up spending the afternoon consoling Natalie in her bedroom, after his mom had again, made a backhanded comment about her body. That yeah, she’d gained weight in her midsection, and yeah, the stress was showing on her hips. She was sobbing into her pillows, clutching her pink sheets and wailing, leaving Carmy with nothing to do but kiss her on the cheek and leave her alone. He assured her, again, that he was fine, that he didn’t matter, and no, she didn’t ruin his birthday.

And when he’s 24 and scrubbing the floors of The Beef at midnight, sweat dripping down his forehead and into the collar of his shirt. Michael had just died, so yeah, it was a little raw. The fluorescent lights were beating down on his back as he dumped hot soapy water on the floor and scrubbed everything away. Scrubbed away his memories, every Christmas with his brother, every screaming match. He let it all go down the drain. He’s assured himself that he’s fine, he didn’t matter, and no, Michael’s fucking suicide would not ruin his birthday.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

He meets you later that year. Sitting in the park, doing a crossword at 7:00am, your BEC and hot coffee cooling off on the bench beside you. You’re obviously a professional of some kind: tight black slacks and a matching blazer, white dress shirt stretched over your torso, hair pristinely styled. Black heels, he notices, that you’ll switch out in the middle of the day because they squeeze your toes.

When he sits beside you, you don’t pay him any mind. He’s disheveled, sandy curls pushed back on his head, a grey crewneck sweater over a white t-shirt, collar peaking through at the neck. He sets his identical breakfast next to yours, taking out a cigarette and slipping it between his lips. You look over when he flicks his lighter, a soft exhale leaving his nose. “Oh, sorry,” he takes the cigarette from his lips and wafts the smoke away. “I forgot not everyone in this city smokes.”

You smiled tightly, nodding, letting yourself relax onto the back of the bench. “I don’t mind.” He nodded back to you, letting his hand rest on his knee as he took another drag. “Anything worth reading in there today?” He gestures to the newspaper balanced on your knee. You look at him again, shrugging your shoulders, only to tap your pen against the side of your leg. “No, there never is. I just do the crosswords. You wouldn’t happen to know a 4 letter word for ‘kitchen second in command’, would you?”

He laughs a little, taking another slow drag. “Sous?” You look down at the newspaper, penning in the small boxes, sitting back to smile at him. “Thank you,” you raise your coffee cup to him. “‘m a chef, over at The Beef in River North,” he has a mouthful of his sandwich now, as he points in the general direction of the restaurant. “Oh, yeah, I think you guys catered one of our events one time. It’s like, sandwiches and stuff, right?” He nods, taking a sip of coffee. You follow after him, letting the hot coffee touch your lips.

“Yeah,” he laughs. “I, uh, just took it over. It’s kind of a shit show right now but we’re tryna fix it.” You unwrap the sandwich and sink your teeth into the soft bagel, covering your mouth before beginning to speak. “What happened to the guy who used to own it? Did you just buy it off of him, or what?”

“He died,” he says, deadpan, letting the cigarette come between his lips again. “He was my brother and uh, yeah - he died.” You nod at your own embarrassment, at the thought of asking a random stranger about his dead brother by accident. “Oh, I didn’t-uh, God - sorry,” you stammer, letting yourself turn towards him. “It’s fine,” he waves the smoke away again. “It’s not a big deal.” You almost laugh at his demeanour, so nonchalant. You pull a cardholder out of your blazer pocket, the small clasp opening. Cream cardstock, black writing - a business card, handing it over to him, but not before scribbling your personal number on the back. “If you need anything, accounting related or otherwise, call me.” He takes it and looks for a second, raising his eyebrow at the pristine card. “I can’t afford you,” he laughs. “No charge. Thanks for the help on the crossword…” you wait expectantly for a name. “Oh, Carmen. Carmy,” he finishes. “Nice to meet you.”

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

It had been a few months since your first meeting. Now, you chose to spend almost every Sunday with him - his one day off. He’d usually make you breakfast, sometimes an omelette with gouda cheese and chives, or fluffy pancakes with a berry compote and homemade whipped cream. For a man that cooked all day, every day, he certainly didn’t mind making any meals for you, especially when you woke up next to him in his old t-shirt and nothing underneath.

You’d known Carmy for long enough now to have pieced together the whole story - a few nights here and there coming around The Beef after closing had granted you the pleasure of meeting Richie, who Carmy affectionately called Cousin. “He’s a little fucked up,” Richie had told you behind the slightly ajar door of the office, as you sat and waited for Carm to finish up. “With Mikey and everything. He won’t let ‘ya know, but he is. I’m happy he’s got somebody,” he looks back at the kitchen, the usual pots and pans clanging behind him. “You didn’t hear it from me, but it’s his birthday on Sunday,” Richie gets closer to you, his hand coming closer. “Back up Richie,” “Sorry. Force of habit. Do not tell him I told you. Take it to your grave. He likes red velvet cupcakes with cream cheese icing like a little bitch boy, they’re his favourite, alright?” You nod, looking to see if he was anywhere near. “Heard.”

You catch Marcus on the way out while Carmy fucks with something else in the kitchen. “Hey, Marcus,” you grab his arm, right before he’s about to put a headphone in and start on his way home. “Hey, what’s good?” “I need a red velvet cake recipe. And a cream cheese icing recipe. And a walk through of how to bake a batch of cupcakes. Please.” He nodded slightly, looking down at his phone. “I’ll text you what I’ve got. Is it a special occasion?” You look over at Carmy, who was wiping the sweat from his forehead. “Yeah, uh, it is.”

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

Marcus had let you borrow a few cupcake pans and a package of liners, as well as his KitchenAid stand mixer for the batter. You’d gathered all of the ingredients from the recipe he’d given you, set everything up in your tiny apartment kitchen on the Saturday before Carmy’s birthday, furiously mixing wets and drys in different bowls, sifting flour and separating egg whites from yolks. The cigarette was taught between your lips, tank top strap falling off your shoulder as you slowly began to mix the batter together.

[Carmen] 11:18pm

Hey

How are you baby?

Just finishing up here

You flicked the cigarette ash onto the fire escape as you nodded your head in rhythm with the song on the speaker, letting the batter mix in the background as you started to sift the powdered sugar into the clean bowl. You weren’t even looking at the time until you heard the familiar chime of your phone, sticky floury hands grabbing your cell phone to see the text from Carmy.

“Shit, fuck,” you turned the mixer off, putting the remnants of your cigarette out in the sink.

[(Y/N) personal] 11:26pm

Hey, just busy right now

Will text in a bit

Love you

When Carmy reads the text he’s a little… surprised to say the least. For you to have plans on a Saturday night was not unheard of by any means, but it wasn’t what he was expecting. Anxiety creeped up a little, because what could you be doing at 11:30pm?

[Carmen] 11:27pm

Love you too

You ok?

[(Y/N) personal] 11:27pm

Of course

Come over when you’re done

A smile tugs on the corner of his lips as he continues to wipe down the stainless steel counter in front of him, nearly spotless already. Most of the other crew has gone home, save for Marcus in his station proofing his donuts for tomorrow and Richie texting someone at the expo line. He slips his phone in the pocket under his apron, undoing the knot on the back and dropping it in the hamper by the back door. “You guys can lock up, yeah?” Carmy calls, seeing Marcus nod at him and bid him goodnight with a small wave. “Heard,” Richie calls. “‘Night, cousin.”

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

Carmy had called a few times, your phone ringing and ringing, but the chaotic kitchen had forced you to miss the calls. It was past midnight now, and you’d spent your whole day in the kitchen, the night getting away from you way quicker than you had intended. You had a small box in your bedside table, a thin gold chain you hadn’t wrapped for him yet, and your apartment was a fucking mess. Pans and bowls strewn across every surface, flour on the floors and walls, and somehow, and you had cream cheese icing under your fingernails. It was a bit of a mess.

When the icing was done, you managed to squeeze some on the tops of the cupcakes just in time to hear the lock on your door click. You stood, silently, as you heard Carmy quietly kick off his boots. He thought you might be sleeping.

Ha, far from it.

“Babe?”

When he rounded the corner, it was a sight to see for sure. Your hands twisted around a makeshift pastry bag, which was really a ZipLoc with a hole cut in the bottom. Apron tied in a bow around your waist, only accentuating the curves of your body. Carmy drinks you in.

“What are you doing?”

You looked at him like a deer in the headlights.

“Baking.”

“Yeah. I see that.”

He stepped forward tentatively, an amused smile on his face. His hand reached to the small of your back, a kiss adorning your cheek.

“Why are you baking?” He takes a finger to the end of the bag, sticking it in his mouth and marvelling at the taste. “Why are you killing it at baking?”

You smiled. “Don’t be mad.”

His eyebrow cocked, noticing the desserts in front of him, really, for the first time since he stepped in the door.

“Fucking Richie,” his hand found his forehead. “Fucker.”

“Happy Birthday, Carm.” You let the bag of icing flop on the stovetop, while your arms wrapped around his neck. You pressed a soft kiss to his lips, slotting them together to quiet the thoughts in his mind. You started to pepper kisses all over his face and neck, giggling between them, before he couldn’t help but burst into laughter himself.

“He told me they were your favourite, and I asked Marcus for a recipe and I haven’t tried one yet, even!” the words tumbled out of your mouth as he pulled you impossibly closer, swaying a little with you in his arms.

“Sorry. Richie told me not to make a dig deal, I just thought,” you shrugged, letting your hands slide down his biceps and tracing the faded tattoos there with your pointer finger. “I thought we could make it special again. If you want.”

The wild look in your eyes was enough to have him push forward again, lips crashing into lips, the amalgamation of all the tastes from his day on your tongue.

“Thank you.” He peers over your shoulder at the cupcakes, still in the tin, suddenly very interested in tasting the fruits of your labour.

“Should we try these?” His hand drops effortlessly to your waist, letting his body push past yours. He picks up a cupcake, handing one to you and ‘cheers’ing them playfully. He unwrapped the foil on the outside, sinking his teeth into the soft, sweet dessert.

“Mmmh,” he moans, letting his eyes roll back into his head slightly. “Wow,” the red colour coats his teeth. “Yeah.”

You nod along with him, your own teeth sinking in. “Oh yeah, I kinda killed it with these.”

“Hm, wait,” you put the cupcake down, pushing past him. You take the opportunity to put your hand on his broad back, feeling the muscles underneath.

When you return, he’s licking the rest of the icing off of his fingers. The way his lips wrap around his fingers makes your breath hitch.

“Before you say anything, it’s just small, if you hate it you can return it, blah blah blah…” you trail off, but you can’t hide the excitement across your features.

He pulls open the clamshell box, the gold chain reflecting against the warm lights of the kitchen and dancing along the walls. His lips part slightly, forming an “o” shape, with surprise.

“You’re…” he seems genuinely speechless. Carmy usually isn’t a man of many words, anyway, but this was noticeably different.

“Do you like it?” Your bottom lip is folded under your teeth in anticipation, eyes flickering up to meet his.

“You’re perfect,” is all he can say, and you swear you can see his eyes get a little glassy.

“Aw, well, don’t get soft on me now,” you let your arms wrap around him once again, pulling him into a hug this time. Your head fits perfectly into his chest, smelling the distinct scent of his signature cologne, long now covered by the smells of the restaurant. Him.

His nose fits perfectly into the crook of your neck as he leans down, deepening the hug to pull you in impossibly close. His lips latch onto the soft spot beneath your ear, enraptured by your presence.

For the first time in his life, Carmy is actually going to have a good birthday.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

#carmen berzatto #the bear #carmy berzatto fanfiction #carmy x reader #carmy berzatto #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto fanfiction #carmy x you #the bear fx fanfic #the bear fx fanfiction #the bear fanfic

486 notes · View notes

supernovafics · 4 months

Text

𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔

"i'll be there for you" universe masterlist

pairing: bestfriend!roommate!steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 2.9k words

warnings: explicit language, (slight) jealous!steve, brief mention of blood/injury (reader has a lil fall)

summary: in which everything has changed for steve after that night at the bar and morning in your bed, but he hasn’t admitted that to you yet. being honest is much harder than he thought it would be and no moment feels completely right, so he continues to pretend that nothing has changed. but, a day at the park playing basketball with you makes it feel a thousand times harder to keep the secret

author's note: the slow burn will end one day (eventually) (i promise) i just love dragging things out for absolutely no reason<3 (i’m sorry!)<333 anyways enjoy this very slight jealous!steve moment! he’s a bit of an asshole in this but also like not really and it’s only kinda for a second

general note: everything in this universe/series can be read as standalone oneshots but to understand the full “lore” it would prob be best to read the other stuff too<333

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Winter 1986

It actually wasn’t all that surprising when Steve asked you to go to the park— that Saturday marked the first slightly warm day in months.

And maybe saying that he “asked you” was a bit of a stretch because this felt more like a hostage situation; one that you technically orchestrated since, as one of his Christmas presents, you promised that you would play basketball with him one time. And today, on one of the first few days of March, he decided to drag you out of the apartment and to the park that was a quick drive away and had semi-nice basketball courts.

You changed out of your typical Saturday attire, which simply consisted of a hoodie and shorts, and into a cream-colored t-shirt that said, “Sports Suck. And you do too” in black lettering, Steve got it for you for your birthday, and it felt almost too fitting for this moment. You also had on a pair of black athletic shorts that had been your usual attire during high school gym class.

“You’re the only person that I would ever subject myself to doing this for,” You said to Steve as you stepped out of his car and grabbed the basketball that had been sitting at your sneaker covered feet during the drive. “So, I hope you understand how huge of a deal this is.”

Steve laughed a bit. “I know, and I feel honored that you’re risking your life by doing this for me right now.”

“You say that jokingly, but I brought a first aid kit just in case this ends badly,” You said and handed the basketball over to him. “So, what’s first? A riveting round of HORSE?”

“Before we play any games, and I beat you at all of them, let’s just shoot around for a bit so you can get used to it. Was the last time you played basketball really at my eleventh birthday party?” He asked, shooting the ball from a little bit in front of the three-point line as he spoke and making it almost too effortlessly.

You grabbed the ball as it bounced on the court and then took a shot. You were standing much closer to the basket than Steve had been but still missed.

“If that didn’t just answer your question, yes, your birthday party was the last time I even thought about playing. I actually think it was that day that made me realize I should stay away from all sports.”

“You hadn’t been that bad back then.”

You gave him a look. “Steve, I hit your grandma with a basketball. I missed a shot so bad that it hit her.”

It was that day that you were banned from using the basketball hoop in Steve’s backyard, rightfully so.

“Okay, yeah, but she was fine and forgave you immediately. And even made sure you got an extra piece of cake when you started crying because of how bad you felt,” He said, tossing the ball to you so that you could try another shot.

“Still doesn’t change the fact that I’m horrible at this,” You said before taking a breath and shooting the ball. You missed again, but it at least hit the rim that time.

“That’s progress,” Steve said and gave you an encouraging smile.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Exactly twenty-three minutes had passed, and the only reason that you were keeping close track of the time was because when Steve had dragged you out of the apartment, you told him that you’d only be playing for an hour; unless you somehow turned into a prodigy.

You had lost count of how many times you shot the basketball, but you knew that the number of times you successfully made a basket was four. It was an embarrassingly low number, and you definitely were not a prodigy, but each time you surprisingly made a shot, you’d gasp in shock and Steve would whoop happily and give you an enthusiastic high five while saying that the pointers he was giving you were working. You weren’t entirely sure that was true— and it wasn’t because he was a bad teacher, you were just a bad student. You were certain that each shot you made was based on pure luck and simple probability; if you kept shooting the ball, you’d eventually end up making something.

And when you told Steve exactly that, he only shook his head at you. “No, you made those four shots because you’re good.”

How happy and positive he was being about this entire thing was the only thing that made it bearable.

You laughed a bit. “I love you and your encouragement, but that is such an overstatement.”

“For someone that hasn’t even touched a basketball in eight years, you are good.”

“Thank you,” You said with an amused smile on your face instead of rebutting his statement. “I’ll make sure to try out for the local rec team when the time comes.”

“That’s a great idea. I’ll coach you to help you prepare,” Steve said jokingly, and you only laughed in response.

You were about to ask him to toss you the ball, but a group of guys walking past you two, probably headed to the empty hoop on the other side of the court, caught your attention for a second instead. There were four of them and one smiled at you as he passed by you and Steve and he was kind of cute so you smiled back.

You were completely unaware, but there was something about that smile you gave the guy that made Steve have to look away from the entire nonverbal interaction and focus on the basketball in his hand instead. All too quickly he wanted to blurt it all out, everything that had hit him so abruptly that morning in your bed barely two weeks ago.

I love you. I’m in love with you.

For the most part, that thought was the only thing that consumed his mind these days, especially when you two were together; which of course was way more often than not.

There had probably been at least a hundred moments where he almost accidentally let it slip. Hours after it all had hit him, you two were sitting on the couch mindlessly watching some random sitcom and you leaned your head on his shoulder and he was so close to simply whispering it to you. And then when you two were in your Film and TV history class that Tuesday and writing unserious notes back and forth to one another in the margins of his notebook, he wanted to just write the five words down and slide the notebook back over to you. And just last night when you two were driving to the movie theater to see something with Robin and Eddie, he felt the urge to say it when a stupid love song that felt as if it cheesily summed up exactly how he was feeling came on the radio.

However, he would always bite his tongue right before he told you because he was waiting for that perfect moment to be honest with you, and nothing felt entirely right just yet. And it especially didn’t feel like a good time in this moment where you were smiling at some guy that wasn’t him and a certain feeling that could only be deemed as jealousy sat in the pit of his stomach.

Steve cleared his throat, bringing your attention back to him and then he tossed the ball to you. “Your turn.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The first round of HORSE was started and finished barely fifteen minutes later, quickly ending with Steve winning. Even though you could tell that he was going very easy on you and trying to let you win, you still somehow managed to lose.

“This loss feels so much more embarrassing knowing that you were trying to let me win,” You had said after you missed your shot and got an “E.”

“I wasn’t,” Steve told you with a shake of his head and you only gave him a look that said you didn’t believe him.

You reached down to grab the ball and stop it from rolling away, but you somehow tripped over nothing but your own feet and landed hard on the ground.

You yelped as you collided with the concrete. Luckily, you thought fast enough to put your hands out so that you didn’t completely faceplant. “Ouch. Shit.”

Steve was by your side in an instant and started helping you up. “Are you okay?”

You could only shrug in response to his question at first as you stood up with the help of his hand on your arm.

“Okay, just kidding, that moment was a lot more embarrassing than losing the game,” You told him. When you looked down and saw the deep scrape on your knee and the blood already starting to rise from the wound, you immediately had to look away from it. “I put the first aid kit in the backseat.”

“What? You actually brought it? I thought you were joking,” Steve said, keeping an arm around you as he helped you walk over to the car and opened the passenger side door so that you could sit down.

“Of course, I wasn’t joking. It felt inevitable that something like this would happen,” You said as you sat sideways in the passenger seat so that your feet were on the ground, and then you grabbed a couple napkins from the glove compartment to place it on your knee and help stop the bleeding. “Honestly, I’m surprised this didn’t happen in the first five minutes.”

Steve grabbed the first aid kit before kneeling down in front of you and you looked at the four guys down at the end of the court. They were playing a two against two game and the one that smiled at you earlier just made a shot at the three-point line.

You stopped looking at him and instead focused on the top of Steve’s head. “Ugh, I can’t believe I just fell in front of that cute guy.”

“Maybe he didn’t even see,” Steve mumbled with a quick shrug.

“I doubt that,” You said and then sighed. “These last few weeks have been very humbling. First, things immediately going downhill with Jamie, and now this.”

Steve didn’t know how things had ended with Jamie, you had yet to tell him the exact reasoning, but selfishly he had been glad that they did. Although he couldn’t find it in him to tell you the truth just yet, the thought of now having to see you with anyone else annoyed him.

You tapped his shoulder so that he would look up at you. “It would be a bad idea if I went up to him and asked for his number, right?”

“Yeah, it would,” Steve answered, pulling his eyes away from yours and focusing on grabbing something from the first aid kit instead. His words were a lie, for the most part— he personally would’ve thought it was cute if a girl did that to him. He immediately felt like shit for lying to you, but not enough to go back on what he said.

You nodded at his response. “Okay.”

You kept your eyes away from what Steve was doing as he cleaned up your knee, looking up at the sky instead until he was done and placing the large band-aid over it.

“Thanks,” You said and smiled at him.

He looked up at you for a brief moment before standing up and simply giving you a small nod. He went over to grab the basketball, which had rolled into the grass, and then put it in the backseat.

The drive back to the apartment was quiet and it felt more like Steve’s doing than yours. He suddenly seemed distant, maybe even mad at you, and the abrupt shift felt so odd.

You looked over at him. “What’s wrong?”

He shook his head. “I’m fine.”

It felt pretty clear that he wasn’t fine, though. You could tell that he was annoyed at you for reasons that you couldn’t decipher and that only made you annoyed as well. You didn’t even play with the radio during the drive back to the apartment, you just sat there with your arms folded across your chest as you stared out the window.

You wondered if the prevailing silence bothered him as much as it bothered you, but then that question didn’t even matter because he was pulling into the parking lot of the apartment building and parking in the usual open spot next to your car, and you were unbuckling your seatbelt.

“What happened with you and Jamie?” Steve asked before you could open the door and step out of his car. “You never really talked about it.”

The abruptness of the question surprised you; and it wasn’t even the question itself that was the surprising part, it was more so the timing of it. Was that why he decided to randomly get mad at you? Because you never told him what happened on that dumb date? And why the hell would it even matter at this point?

You weren’t even entirely sure why you hadn’t told Steve the full extent of what happened. When you came back from the date that night, you only said that things had gone badly.

You turned to look at Steve. “He didn’t like you.”

His eyebrows furrowed at that. “What?”

“Well, not you necessarily, but us; our friendship,” You said, looking down at your band-aid-covered knee. “When me and him went on the date, he asked about what my emergency was and why I had to cancel the date the first time, and I told him about your accidental phone call and you being drunk at the bar and me having to go get you, and he didn’t see that as much of an emergency; especially since you had wanted Eddie to pick you up. He thought it was a little weird how easily I canceled plans to go do something for you, and the whole night kind of shifted awkwardly from there.”

You remembered that entire conversation perfectly, and you honestly couldn’t even get that annoyed with Jamie when he said any of that because you didn’t think that your priorities would ever be able to change. Steve would probably always be at the top of your unwritten list, and you had come to the conclusion that whoever else wanted to be in your life would just have to deal with that.

“Oh.”

You looked at him curiously. “What?”

“Nothing,” Steve shook his head. “I’m sorry.”

Hearing him say that only confused you. “Sorry for what?”

He was quiet for a long moment before sighing. “I don’t know…”

“Is that why you were mad at me just now? Because I didn’t tell you what happened on the date?”

“No, I don’t even know why I brought it up right now, I was just curious,” He said with a shrug before meeting your gaze. “And I’m not mad at you for anything. I promise.”

“Okay…” You said as you found one of his hands and gave it a light squeeze. “So, what’s up with you? Clearly, something’s wrong, right? Is it something with your parents?”

“No, nothing with them,” He responded, which was an answer that only confused you more. It looked like there were a thousand things going through his head right then, and you couldn’t seem to decipher any of it, which felt foreign to you— you were so used to reading him like a book. “It’s just… it’s kind of hard to explain right now.”

If it really had nothing to do with his parents, you were unsure what else it could be and what else would be difficult to talk to you about. In your head, there wasn’t supposed to be anything that you couldn’t talk to each other about; you were best friends for a reason. It was easy to joke around and playfully banter with one another, but it had also always been easy to have the types of deep and honest conversations that neither of you would ever have with anyone else.

You decided not to push him further in this moment, though. Whatever was going on with him, you knew that he’d tell you eventually.

“It’s okay. Tell me whenever you want to,” You said softly and then decided to say your next words jokingly to shift the mood a bit. “But stop being weird about whatever it is, or I will think that you hate me or something.”

Steve only shook his head at your words at first. “I could never hate you.”

Maybe that was when you should’ve seen it, when you should’ve realized how he felt about you. There was something about the way he said his short statement— so certainly, so truthfully— that should’ve made you connect all of the dots. But, that was the last possible thing on your mind. You would’ve thought that he wanted to move out of the apartment for some random reason before you even considered thinking that he had any sort of romantic feelings toward you. You two had been friends for forever so that just didn’t sound like a plausible thought.

Therefore, instead of any sort of “aha!” moment hitting you right then, you smiled playfully at Steve and said, “Good.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know ur thoughts<333

(requests are open for stuff you wanna see in the universe/series!🫶🏾)

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x fem!reader #stranger things fluff #stranger things imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington series

567 notes · View notes

tlou-reid · 5 months

Text

Apple Spice Cake ❆ Aaron Hotchner

☃︎ SUMMARY: you and aaron attend the BAU christmas party and get some alone time after. part three of the baked goodies series.

☃︎WARNINGS: mainly smut MDNI, oral (fem receiving), fingering, piv, dirty talk, mentions of drinking, i think that's it lmk if i missed anything

☃︎NOTE: i was under the influence of prescription flu medicine the whole time i wrote this so if it is bad or there are mistakes i apologize. i also apologize for this being a week late, i was basically dead from the flu.

swiftmas materlist ❅ baked goodies ❅ cheese danishes

.｡❅⋆⍋∞｡∞⍋⋆❅｡.

“Under the mistletoe, watching the fire flow, and telling me, ‘I love you’. Just being in your arms takes me back to that little farm, where every wish comes true.”

“Are you sure?” You questioned, one last time, smoothing your hands over the red fabric that adorned your body. Aaron laughed from behind you, placing his hands on your hips. “Yes, my love, I am sure.”

You weren’t sure if it was the holiday air or if Aaron being off for a whole week was boosting his mood, but you were not complaining. He had been so kind, so loving, recently, and it was turning your heart into mush. He pressed a kiss to your cheek, checking you out in the mirror one last time, before disappearing to find Jack and make sure he was dressed and ready.

You made your way to the kitchen, going to put your finishing touches on the cake you had made to bring with you. You had also baked a few sugar cookies and a small tray of brownies to take to the party. Everything was laid out neatly, each decorated with a Christmas icing and sprinkles.

“Can I have one yet?” Jack groaned as he made his way into the kitchen. He looked absolutely adorable, dressed in an ugly Christmas sweater and with a red beanie on his head. “We both know the answer to that,” You laughed at him. You had spent the last 24 hours telling him he had to wait until you all arrived at Rossi’s house, but he could not take no for an answer.

Aaron joined you and Jack in the kitchen, each of you grabbed a dessert, and you made your way out the door. Jack was in charge of protecting the cookies and the brownies while Aaron drove, and you held onto the prized possession: the gorgeous apple spiced cake. The drive was filled with Christmas music playing on the radio and jokes being thrown around.

You couldn’t be happier with the way life turned out after your and Aaron’s conversation. It had been about a month, cases for Aaron had slowed down, and you and Jack were building a relationship. Aaron had told him you were his girlfriend and he was very accepting of it. You didn’t want to replace his mom, just be another woman he could turn to when he needed. Everything was going well.

The Christmas party will be your first time officially meeting Aaron’s team. He had talked about them a ton, telling you how they are his family, the way they were there for him when Haley passed, how they helped with Jack when he needed someone to, and the pivotal role they had when he returned from witness protection. You had a lot to live up to and you did not want to blow it.

So, safe to say, you were a bit nervous. You knew at the end of the day Aaron loved you and you knew nothing could change that, but you wanted a good first impression. Hence, the massive amount of desserts and the expensive red dress you adorned.

Aaron made his way to the passenger side of the car, grabbing the cake from you so you could step out of the car and not stumble in the boots you wore. You took the cake back from him, wanting to present it yourself. With desserts in hand, you three marched up to David Rossi’s door, allowing Aaron to knock. “You know you don’t have to knock,” An older man, whom you figured was Rossi, said as he opened the door. He had a glass of wine in his hand, with a towel thrown over his shoulder, and flour spots covering his black t-shirt. It was an oddly familiar sight.

Rossi held the door open as you all piled through. You stood confidently behind Aaron, looking around at his ginormous house. “Where can I sit this?” You asked, lifting the cake for emphasis. “Y/N!” Rossi cheered. “Hello, Mr. Rossi,” You blushed, withdrawing farther behind Aaron, not being comfortable with all of the attention. Leading you to the kitchen, Rossi uses his hand to brush you off, “Drop the Mr., too formal for me.” You giggled, “Yes, sir.”

“Y/N!” He scolded, clearing a spot on the counter for your cake, “Stop with the formalities,” You were laughing at him again. You carefully sat the cake down, not wanting to mess it up. Jack and Aaron followed you in, with a blonde lady trailing behind them. “Is she here?” You heard her question from behind Aaron, presuming she was talking about you. “She is,” Aaron laughed, “Don’t scare her away.”

Listening to Aaron laugh was something the team was still getting used to. It had become more frequent in the past month, but there were no complaints coming from them.

“She’s going to love me,” Penelope hushed Aaron, before turning to you. “Hi!” She practically squealed, immediately pulling you in for a hug. “I’m Penelope Garcia, residential tech nerd of the BAU.” She introduced when she pulled away, giving you a silly salute. “You’re scaring her,” Rossi piped in from where he was finishing the food prep. Everyone in the kitchen let out a laugh.

After a few more minutes of playful banter, Penelope was dragging you away, to Rossi’s large dining room. “Look who I found!” She was squealing again, pulling you by your hand to sit down next to her. You’re met with a few more faces, not knowing who was who. The only one you could place from Aaron’s rambling was Dr. Spencer Reid, the genius of the group. He was easily recognizable by his flowing hair, resembling a boyband member, just as Aaron had said.

“Hi, I’m Y/N,” You sheepishly introduce yourself, giving the table a small wave. Your head follows around the table as everyone introduces themselves. JJ, Will, Henry, Michael, Spencer, Luke, Emily, Matt, Kristy, and Krystall. After introductions, you all were sent into a fit of laughter as Jack rushes in to greet Henry. They take off quickly, going to get into something (that you know is definitely your brownies).

It doesn’t take long for Aaron and Rossi to join you at the table, allowing dinner to start. After introductions, the conversation flowed naturally. You passed around different pastas and sauces, which all tasted delicious, and sipped on expensive wines.

Aaron was quite tipsy, having not had alcohol in quite a bit. His hand was comfortably on your thigh as everyone relaxed before dessert. His body weight was leaning into you, but you were not complaining at all. You all sat there for a while, just chatting. It wasn’t until Jack reappeared at your side, whispering, “Can we have dessert now?” With a chuckle you rose from your chair to go cut the cake.

You loaded desserts up, moving them from the trays you’d brought them in to platters Rossi had left out for you. Jack helped you carry them in, with Henry following closely behind with a stack of small dessert plates and a cup of small forks. “Ooooooh!” Luke cooed as you arrived in the dining room. Everyone dipped into their favorites, earning you tons of praise.

“You’re pretty when you blush,” Aaron slurred in your ear as everyone ate. “Thank you,” You replied, sheepishly, not used to him complimenting you in public. “I’m gonna make you blush more later,” He lowered his voice, once again returning his hand to your thigh. He moved it higher up as he continued, “When it’s just you and me.”

“Just us?” You asked, knowing Jack was supposed to be going home with you. As much as you wanted to enjoy his drunken attempts at dirty talk, you were nervous about the people around and focusing on the technicalities. Aaron’s face was practically in your neck as he answered, “Mhm, Jack’s going to JJ’s. Just gonna be us tonight.” He pressed a kiss to your shoulder before he returned to an upright position.

“Everyone full?” Rossi asked after clearing the table of empty plates. Everyone let out an exaggerated sound of agreement, with Matt’s “Yes, Sir,” sticking out amongst the crowd. Rossi moved to light his fireplace, and then reached for a deck of cards.

That’s how the night ended, with different card games and bets made, lit up by Rossi’s fireplace. It was a nice time, and gave Aaron time to sober up quite a bit.

“Night, Hotch,” Emily called as you two walked out the door. You had been dismissed with hugs and promises of a girls night, so Aaron’s goodbyes paled in comparison. Aaron opened the passenger side door for you before claiming his spot in the driver’s seat. “You had a good night?” He asked as he buckled up and returned his hand to your thigh, for probably the thousandth time tonight. “I did, but you better get my brownie pan back from Dave. That’s my nice one,” You teased. Aaron smiled, “I will, I will.”

The drive was peaceful, with Christmas music filling the car and Aaron rubbing soft circles on your thigh. You couldn’t help but wonder if Aaron recalled the promise he’d made to you when he was much drunker than he is now. You could feel your panties getting wetter as you thought about it, his touch doing nothing but fueling the dirty thoughts in your brain.

“You need to run over and grab anything?” With your houses being so close, you didn’t have much stuff at Aaron’s house. You usually opted for his clothes anyways, so you gave him a nod, and marched into his home. Aaron followed closely, resting his hand on your hip as he reached from behind you to insert his key. You held the door for him as you walked in.

You had hardly gotten your shoes off before Aaron’s hands were back on your hips. He pulled you close, holding you up against his torso. “You looked so pretty,” He murmured, moving to press hard kisses into your neck, “In your dress.”

You turned yourself around so you could wrap your arms around his neck, and kiss him on his lips. “And you looked quite handsome,” You gushed, emphasizing the statement with a kiss to his cheek. It wasn’t very often that you were the one who got to love on Aaron, so you took your chances when he let you.

You stepped away, grabbing his hand and guiding him to the bedroom. You sat him down on the edge before moving to straddle him. You could feel his hardened cock against your wet core. His hands wrapped around your waist, once again pulling you close. Aaron kissed you with a fervor, showcasing all of the love he held for you. It was slow, your lips slotting together, his hands continually trying to pull you close. It was all he wanted. You. You. You.

“Come ‘ere,” He mumbled, switching you so that you were laying at the top of the bed. His hands moved to pull down your dress and he helped you lift your midsection so he could get it all the way off. That left you in the red bra and white panties you’d chosen. You weren’t planning on having a night like this, but you opted to keep the Christmas spirit as you’d gotten dressed.

Aaron’s eyes looked over you like you were a priceless piece at the museum. You could feel your cheeks heating up under his stare, knowing he had kept his promise from earlier. “Merry Christmas,” You whispered, wanting to break the ever growing tension in the room. “Merry Christmas, beautiful.” He whispered back as he moved to press kisses to your chest. He sucked and licked across your chest, stopping to toy with each of your nipples, before peppering kisses down your stomach. Aaron laid himself between your legs, then reached up to pull down your panties. He hesitated for just a second to make eye contact with you, waiting for a nod of permission.

After you granted it, his hands more quick to slide your underwear down your legs, discarding it somewhere in the room. Aaron’s large hands rubbed up each leg as his mouth made contact with your center. He laid his tongue flat, licking a broad stripe up you, collecting as much of your wetness as he could. “Always taste so good,” He pulled away for just a second to mumble. You weren’t sure if he was talking to you or himself.

His tongue moved skillfully, tracing through your folds and stopping to circle your clit. Your hands were latched in his hair, pulling him as close as possible. Aaron took this as further encouragement, moving his right hand from your thigh to your pussy, collecting your juices before pushing in just a single finger.

He pumped it in and out at a steady pace as he drew circles on your clit with his tongue. You could feel your body start to tighten, getting closer to your release. “Aaron!” You whined, tugging on his hair again, “Need more!” He complied, inserting another finger and increasing his speed of both his hand and his tongue. You yanked at his hair again, eliciting a groan from him. The vibration felt so good on your pussy, drawing you closer and closer to orgasm.

Aaron inserted one more finger, giving you a slight burn with the stretch of his wide digits. You came on his tongue and around his finger with a loud moan of his name. He didn’t stop, continuing to pump three fingers into you. His mouth pulled away, because he did not want to overstimulate you too much, and he wanted to see your pretty face as you came down from your high.

He was painfully hard, pushing his waist into the bed desperate for some kind of friction as he watched you. He didn’t pull away until you froze, letting out deep breaths from your orgasm. Aaron moved to lay next to you, pressing a kiss just above your ear. It was quiet for a few moments.

That was broken when Aaron slurred a, “Thank you,” against the top of your head. He sounded drunk again, only it wasn’t from alcohol, no, it was from tasting you on his tongue. “For what?” You replied, rolling over to lay on his chest. “Letting me taste you,” He answered. “You can do that whenever you want.”

Aaron rubbed along your naked body, stopping to finally remove the bra he had accidentally left you in. He was waiting for you to initiate the next round, knowing you wanted a moment to come down before he was bringing you to orgasm again. He knew you were ready when you began sucking harsh marks into his collar bones. It was an intentional placement, one that no one could see.

You slid your teeth across his bone, giving him a delicious burning feeling. He moaned at the pain. “Wanna ride you but you made my legs tired,” You pouted, jutting your bottom lip out to defend your point. He laughed, “You can always do that tomorrow.” Your pout was replaced with a smile as you nodded at him.

Aaron stood for just a moment to remove the clothes he had on. As he climbed back in the bed he guided you to lay on your back, before climbing on top. He didn’t make you do any work as he inserted himself into you.

“So wet,” He mumbled. “All for you,” You sweetly replied. His movements started off slow, allowing you to adjust to his thick dick. The burn from earlier was back as he stretched you again, but it hurt in all the right ways. “More,” You whined, again, needing to feel him deeper in you. Aaron sped up his thrusts, and buried his head in your shoulder. He focused on pressing kisses there so he wouldn’t finish so quickly.

He was so riled up. You had him half-hard before you’d even left the house, dressed up in your pretty dress and carrying sweet desserts you’d made for him and his team. All he could think about while he ate dinner was how he wanted to be devouring you instead.

“Fuck,” He moaned as he moved to hold himself up on his elbows. You weren’t sure what he was thinking about, but he was fucking you hard now. The bed shook as he drove himself into you, banging against the wall. “Looked so fucking pretty today,” He whined, drawing out the word ‘pretty’.

Aaron kept a steady rhythm, showering you in compliments and emphasizing each of them with a hard push of his cock. You were a mess of moans under him, puttering out whines of his name. His left hand slid down the expanse of your body to stop on your thigh, hiking it up to his hip. You could feel him so much deeper at this angle. “Gonna come on my cock now, honey?” He ushered, feeling your walls tighten around him.

All you could do was whine out a “mhm”, too preoccupied with the addicting feeling of him dragging his dick in and out of you to string together coherent sentences. He murmured encouragements in your ear, trying to get you there before he found his own release.

His wish was granted as you dug your nails into his back, holding on as you reached your orgasm. You whined his name and squeezed his dick in the perfect way, and he was finishing right after you. Aaron’s thrusts slowed down as he finished.

You held him tight to you, not letting him pull out. His body was basically limp, exhausted after the long day and his wonderful orgasm. You two laid there for a while, basking in each other’s presence and enjoying the afterglow. “You okay, baby?” You whispered in his ear. He just nodded against you, not having the energy to answer.

His dick had completely softened by the time he rolled off of you, allowing you to quickly hop in the shower. It was no surprise that he was asleep when you got out. You threw on one of his shirts before climbing in next to you.

You got comfortable, pulling the blanket up to your chin and wiggling next to Aaron. As if it was muscle memory, he wrapped his arm around you. “I love you.” You said, not expecting him to reply. To your surprise, he pressed a sloppy kiss to the back of your head, “I love you, too.”

849 notes · View notes

russellsppttemplates · 5 months

Text

So... pure and so you (Charles Leclerc)

Going back home means Charles sees how you've been healing, and your parents haven't missed it either

Note: english is not my first language. I know it's past Christmas, but this still counts, right?

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Cw: talks about having kids

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog

"Is your mother making those biscuits I really like? Those fluffy ones, they're like little cakes actually", Charles asked, his hand over the console and resting on your thigh as he turned left for the final cut to your house.

"She said she was planning on making them these afternoon, I can't wait!", you squealed, clapping your hands together at the prospect, seeing your parents left the gate open so you could drive in.

Parking the car, Charles ensured it was safe before coming out of it as well, being greeted by your family dog while you hugged your parents, "hello buddy, how are you? You're very excited to see us, hm? Yes you are!", Charles cooed, rubbing his belly as he wagged his tail at the attention he was receiving.

You hugged your parents before looking for your boyfriend, "Arlo loves Charles more than he loves me", you chuckled, seeing the labrador run back to you as Charles followed him.

"Hi, how are you?", Charles offered as he kissed your mother's cheeks, opting to shake your father's hand as you walked inside, "did you have a good drive back here?", he questioned him, "yes, not too bad actually. It wasn't too busy", your boyfriend replied, seeing you store your coats and get comfortable in your parents' house.

After lunch, your mother asked for help with baking while your father and Charles helped with preparing the table to you could then roll the dough properly.

It was a sight to behold. You were helping your mother with Christmas cookies and the cakes your boyfriend mentioned, your clothes littered with flour stains as you touched your mother's cheek with some of the mixture, containing your laugh as she didn't seem to notice the powder on her skin.

You were happy, giggly and you had a glow that Charles was sure put all of the products you had back home to shame.

"It's good to see her like this", Charles commented when he felt your father's eyes on him, "work has been a lot lately, and she'll only listen to so much of what I say and take the advice even less than I'd like", he chuckled.

Your father shook his head, "She's always been like that. It was worrisome for a little bit, and we always make sure she's not pushing herself too much. And we know we have you in our team, too", the older man touched a Charles' shoulder, rubbing it slightly before he offered him a drink.

After wishing your parents a good night, you and Charles headed to your room upstairs, needing to catch up on some sleep after the busy day. Your old bedroom had slightly changed since you moved out to live with your boyfriend. Your parents swapped your single bed for a double one, for whenever you and Charles visited, and updated the colour of the walls, wanting to keep it on the neutral side in case they needed it for other guests, "are you showering now or after me?", Charles asked, grabbing a towell from himself, "I'll go after you, I need to hang my clothes first", you smiled, kissing his lips as he went to the bathroom.

Looking through your wardrobe, you noticed your mother still kept the family albums in there, remembering something about the downstairs drawers being humid and her worry about loosing the memories. You flickered through the pages, recalling some memories from when you were younger, some of them you probably constructed by other people telling you the moments.

Charles walked in a little while later, ruffling his hair with a towell only in a t-shirt and underwear, "you can go now, amour", he said as he noticed you closing the album, pressing a kiss to your forehead when you walked to take a shower.

You were already in bed when you noticed Charles looking at the books, "you want to look at what's inside them, don't you?", you chuckled as his eyes lit up, "I'm not too tired to look at them, and I bet there are some good memories in there", he confessed.

Opening the book while your boyfriend pulled you to rest against his chest, "this is so pretty", you appreciated all the details on the pages, either doodles or descriptions from the moment when the picture was taken.

"Look at these cheeks!", Charles groaned as he pointed at a picture of you. From the date on the page, you were around four, two pigtails on your curly hair and a toothy smile, "if our kids have your cheeks, which I hope they do, I won't be able to stop kissing them, I know I just won't", he breathed out.

"Do you think about that a lot?", you wondered, looking at his face as you adjusted your position slightly, genuinely curious about the subject. It had been something you had talked about before and it seemed to come to again.

"Yes, I do. I still think we should wait a little bit longer, get married first, enjoy married life just you and me and then we can think about little ones, but everytime I see a child or someone asks, it's you I see. With a baby bump, then a little baby in your arms, and we play with them and love in them like they deserve", he cooed, rubbing the tip of his nose on your cheek, kissing it softly.

"Me too", you smiled, "I mean, its always you I see whenever I think about the future. And it looks so good. Sometimes it looks scary, because I don't know how it will play out, but I'll have you with me, so all will be well", you admitted, kissing his lips properly.

You had been friends before you dated, and it has been a whole process to get you to be this open to him when you started dating, never wanting to put too much on his plate as he had his own things to deal with, not wanting to burden him and not wanting to lose him from your life.

"We're a team, amour, there's no need to fear", he said, closing the book and setting it down on the floor, cuddling you to him.

The next morning was slow. Charles' lips littered kisses on your neck and cheeks, seeing the smile as you slowly woke up, "it's Christmas, ma belle", you heard his whisper, his eyes looking for yours, "Merry Christmas, handsome, I love you", you muttered, pulling your hands out from under the covers and cupping your boyfriend's' cheeks, rubbing the stubbly skin before kissing him.

"I love how smiley you are", Charles complimented, big coats and scarf on as you walked on the trail after having breakfast, occasionally pestering your mother with a fallen tree branch or twigs as she thought some animal was crawling up her skin.

"Am I not smiley regularly?", you wondered, knowing what he meant. Coming home meant, after a lot of work on yourself over the years, you would enjoy yourself without any outside pressures. You were amongst family and in the safe place you grew up. No prying eyes, no one commenting or second guessing what you said, wore or looked like.

"You are, but you're carefree, I think. You're not so stressed, your inner child is showing so much more, and it's so... pure. So you", he smiled, kissing the side of your head as he pulled you to walk closer to him.

They had both become adults way faster than the rest of the people their age. Charles' career forced him to grow up earlier and grow thicker skin very early on, and because you were there with him, too, you were also taken with the wave. You started working as soon as you finished your degree, and while you wouldn't complain about it, it did come with a lot of work and investment of yourself that you lost some of your younger years.

"Whenever we are not doing well, when it gets too much, we will do this. Visit your parents, do all the childish things we want to do, no matter how silly they may be", Charles stated as he rubbed your palm with his thumb, "I never want you to give up this side of you, and I'm willing to do anything to see you smile like that again and again".

Smiling at his words at chuckling slightly at the fact that there was no way this man was ever getting away from you, you held out your pinky, "I promise", you smiled as you two laced fingers, sealing it with a kiss.

#charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic

438 notes · View notes

nightgoodomens · 7 months

Text

So what if

Jesus decides he’d rather drink in the pub with Crowley instead of judging anyone.

Zombies get too busy dancing in Michael Jackson’s thriller and so find their new purpose that makes them happy.

God doesn’t even know what’s going on, too busy having dumbass fights with Satan.

Aziraphale comes back to Earth because he gets fired, Crowley wants to know why, and Aziraphale pretends it’s because he tried to thwart the big plan, but actually, it’s because he spent all his time drawing Crowley instead of doing boring paperwork. They also found him with his mouth full of cake.

Crowley knows. He laughs inside.

Metatron tries to start Armageddon but literally nobody is interested because they were invited to Beelzebub&Gabriel wedding and the preparations make Angels and Demons busy.

Aziraphale and Crowley are too busy bidding on a cottage. They don’t tell each other. So they’re bidding on the same one. So when Aziraphale wins he has to sell all the buildings he owns in Soho because Crowley bid so high, and Aziraphale failed to give up, that the cottage was sold for 10 times what it was worth.

Crowley bursts out laughing when Aziraphale takes him to see the surprise. When he explains he was the other bidder, they finally promise each other to not hide things from each other again.

They go to Beelzebub&Gabriel wedding. Angels and Demons dance together. Nobody cares. Everyone is happy. Metatron sits in the corner.

Crowley is there for alcohol. Aziraphale is there for cake. They finally recreate their dance.

Aziraphale watches Crowley who’s tipsy enough to start dancing with Beelzebub. Demons can dance. Crowley is really hot.

They take a walk outside to cool down, for different reasons, and when they sit by the lake, stars shining above them, Aziraphale pops the question.

Crowley grins. He says of course. Not in a bloody church though.

Not in a church, they agree.

God and Satan and Jesus are invited to their wedding. They get absolutely shitfaced. It’s the funniest and most loveable wedding the world has ever seen.

Honeymoon in Alpha Centauri. Also Maldives. Also everywhere where they’ve met over the 6 thousand years. This time not needing to hide or worry or pretend.

They celebrate everything.

They renovate their cottage and Aziraphale discovers Crowley is very DIY and he doesn’t mind at all seeing him dirty and sweaty without a T-shirt. Sometimes he breaks things on purpose.

Crowley knows.

Bentley has her garage. She’s very happy.

The cottage is yellow. Of course.

Christmas Tree has a star on top of it.

Their garden wins all the village awards.

Their baking is talked about by everyone.

Aziraphale has a huge library at home and he doesn’t need to worry about anyone taking his books anymore.

Crowley has plants all over the house and he doesn’t need to scream at them anymore because they’re growing beautifully from the pure love and happiness at home.

He takes care of the garden and Bentley. He buys another car and works on it as his hobby.

They join car shows.

They know all little cafes and restaurants everywhere.

Aziraphale writes his own novel. It’s really good. Crowley just ensures it definitely is talked about everywhere.

They visit Soho whenever they feel like shopping.

They always build a snowman when it snows.

And they spend evenings either on a date, on holiday, or in front of the cracking fire, within comfortable blankets and pillows, drinking, snacking, reading, watching movies and their favourite tv shows.

Everything is perfect.

#good omens #crowley #ineffable fandom #good ineffable omens #ineffable husbands #ineffable boyfriends #ineffable dumbasses #ineffable idiots #ineffable lovers #aziraphale #aziracrow

446 notes · View notes

nvrsaidiwasinurcloset · 4 months

Note

ok, sorry abt my last request i’ll be more specific

can you do ethan landry is best friends with readers brother? and they annoy eachother a lot?

and it ends it a smut pls :3

love your work sm!!

Hiiii! I hope you like it :)

Bad Idea Right? - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

This contains SMUT- Minors DNI

Part 2

Summary: You hook up with your brother's irritating best friend.

A/N: If y'all want a part 2, let me know:)

You and your brother have a good sibling relationship, which you’re thankful for. The only issue you have is that his best friend, Ethan, is so incredibly annoying. They’ve been friends for the longest time, and they do everything together. When they both got into the same school, you weren’t surprised.

Ethan’s sort of became a part of the family. Your parents buy him Christmas presents; he comes on all the family vacations. It wasn’t a shocker when your brother wanted to come home to visit you for your birthday, that Ethan would be coming with him.

You’re the only one in your family that isn’t really close to him, which does feel weird from time to time. You’ll never forget the beach vacation when he chased you along the sand with a washed-up jellyfish, or when he was teasing you when you got your first crush, or when he went through a prank phase, and you were his target every single time.

As both boys arrived home to celebrate your birthday, you were excited to see them. Even though Ethan does annoy you, it’s been months since you’d seen them.

Your brother pulled you into a big hug as Ethan walked past you to say hello to your parents.

“Happy Birthday!” your brother said, you rolled your eyes.

“It was a month ago, dork,” you said, a playful tone in your voice.

“Sorry I couldn’t come home sooner. One of my classes this year has been brutal,” he said, as you nodded.

“Hi, Ethan!” you said sarcastically, as the curly-haired boy rolled his eyes when he faced you.

He looked like he was about to say something back, but he paused as he took in your appearance. You started to feel a little self-conscious, thinking you must’ve had a stain on your shirt or something, because he’s never looked at you like that. He’s usually just as annoyed with you as you are with him.

The next day, your brother told you he was throwing you a surprise birthday party.

“It’s not a surprise if you tell me, you know?” you said, “Plus it’s been a month. Why have a party now?”

“Because you only turn eighteen once,” he said, “And we always celebrate your birthday.”

“Okay, when is this surprise party for me, that I already know about?” you said with a giggle.

“That’s the part that’s surprising. It’s in 2 hours, you might want to get ready,” He laughed a little, looking at the sweatpants and big t-shirt you were wearing.

“Fuuuuck,” you whined, walking to the bathroom to jump in the shower.

After you got out of the shower, you stood on the mat reaching for your towel when the door opened.

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry,” Ethan said, closing the door.

“Fuck,” you whispered, wrapping the towel around your body.

You’d gotten used to having your own bathroom while your brother was away, so you didn’t even think to lock the door. You started to get a little embarrassed, now that your brother’s best friend has seen you naked.

Once you dried off and put your robe on, you walked to your room to change.

As Ethan watched you walk out of the bathroom from your brother’s room across the hall, he couldn’t get the image of your naked, wet body out of his mind. ‘Why the fuck am I thinking about her like this?’ he thought to himself, his cock half-hard in his pants.

“I’m going to go get the cake. You want to set out the drinks and stuff?” your brother asked Ethan.

“Uh, yeah. I guess I can do that,” he said, even though the idea of him being left alone with you made him a little nervous.

“Cool, I’ll be back soon,” he said, grabbing his keys.

After you got dressed, you walked to the kitchen to get something to drink. Ethan was putting chips in bowls at the counter as you struggled to reach around him to get a glass. You brushed up against him, and he felt his breath hitch in his throat.

You got some water before sitting down at the kitchen table. You wanted to say something to him about the bathroom incident, but you were scared to make the situation even more awkward. As you sat there, you just had to say something.

“Hey, Ethan?” you said. He turned his head to look at you. “I’m sorry I forgot to lock the door. I know seeing me naked was probably the last thing you wanted.”

You watched him, waiting for a response. His face started to turn red, as you giggled to yourself.

“It’s..uh…it’s okay,” he said, directing his attention back to the chips.

While he was turning back around and you saw him from the side for a split second, you could see that he was hard in the sweatpants he was wearing. Your eyes went wide and you started to blush as you realized the effect you had on him.

“I’m going to go change,” he said, before walking out of the kitchen and to your brother’s room.

After your brother got back and all your friends started to arrive, Ethan was struggling to take his eyes off you. You noticed his gaze as you danced with your friends to the music, a smirk playing on your lips when he quickly looked away. You thought he was hot, but he annoyed you so much that you never realized it until recently.

You kept noticing his stares as the party went on, so when it was time for the cake, you decided to tease him a little bit. You swiped your finger through the icing, before putting the icing in your mouth. Your eyes connected with Ethan as you sucked it off, his bottom lip going in between his teeth at your actions.

After the cake, you went to the kitchen to get another drink. Ethan was leaning against the counter by himself as your brother shamelessly flirted with one of your friends in the living room.

“Hey, you might piss me off, but thank you for being here,” your voice was sweet as you spoke to him.

“Can I ask you a question?” he asked, watching you sip your drink.

“What’s up?” you asked. He leaned closer to your ear so no one else could hear what he was saying to you.

“Are you intentionally trying to make me hard out there in front of everybody?” he asked, as his eyes scanned over your face. “I know you like to do things that embarrass me, so if you aren’t interested, please stop.”

You smiled at him, thinking back to all the things you’d done that were probably just as annoying as the stuff he’s done to you. But this was intentional. You wanted him to want you, and it’s obvious now that he does.

“Meet me in my room in five minutes,” you said, before walking away.

You scanned the living room to find your brother, still distracted from everything going on around him. You found your best friend, pulling her to the side.

“Hey, I’m going to disappear for a little bit. If anyone’s looking for me, tell them I’ll be right back, and text me immediately, okay?” you asked. The confused look on her face said you needed to explain more. “I’m about to hook up with Ethan. My brother can’t know, cover for me.”

She nodded, still confused at the situation.

You went up the stairs to your room to wait for Ethan. Your friend smirked to herself as she watched him scan the party for your brother, before heading upstairs not long after you.

“Lock it,” you said, as he walked in and shut the door.

“So demanding,” he laughed, as he locked the door.

You walked over to him and laced his fingers with yours as you led him back to your bed, pulling him down with you as you laid back. He looked in your eyes for a few seconds as he hovered over you, the sexual tension getting even stronger before he finally leaned down to kiss you. The second your lips touched, everything just felt right. Like this was what the two of you were supposed to be doing the whole time.

His hands started to roam under the fabric of your shirt, his fingertips grazed your stomach as you whimpered under his touch. As good as his teasing felt, you remembered that you didn’t have a lot of time to do what you came to your room to do.

“We need to be quick,” you gasped out, once his hand reached your breast.

"Right," he chucked to himself, before he slid your shirt up your body. You sat up a little so he could pull it over your head, and you reached behind yourself to unhook your bra to have one less thing in the way. “Fuck,” he whispered, taking in the sight in front of him.

He leaned forward to take one of your nipples in his mouth, swirling his tongue around it as he sucked before moving to the other side. Your breathing was getting heavier by the second, and feeling the way his tongue moved had you craving his mouth on you in other places.

He trailed kisses down your stomach, before he stopped at the top of your jeans. He looked up at you, silently asking for your consent before he went any further. You nodded at him before he smirked and unbuttoned your jeans, and slid those, along with your panties, down your legs in one motion. You took a deep breath once you were fully exposed to him, before he leaned in and started to place gentle licks to your clit.

"Fuck," you whispered, as you looked down to see Ethan's eyes on yours.

He started to swirl his tongue as he slid two fingers inside your soaked entrance with ease, your hips lifting off the bed as he rolled them against that spongy spot inside of you. You were trying so hard to be quiet, and even with the music downstairs, you were sure that if someone came upstairs, they'd know exactly what was going on. Strained whimpers were flooding out of your mouth as you struggled to hold them in, but Ethan was making you feel so good that it was impossible.

"Shit, Ethan," you rushed out, "This feels so good, but I need you to fuck me."

He pulled his mouth away from your clit before he mumbled "I wish I had more time to do this with you." He slid his fingers out, a whine slipping past your lips at the lost feeling as he unbuttoned his jeans and slid those, along with his boxers, down his hips.

"We need to be quick," you reminded him, once you felt the tip of his cock teasingly circling your clit.

"I know," he said, as he lined up with your entrance.

As he slid into you, a low moan flew out of your mouth.

“Shhh,” he said, his hips starting to move. “You need to be quiet, baby.”

You found it hard to do, the feeling of his cock stretching out your pussy feeling so good that you wanted him to know how much you loved it.

“Fuck,” you said, once you heard your phone vibrate on the bed beside you. Ethan kept going as you reached over to check it. “We need to hurry up. My brother was asking where I am.”

His thrusts sped up, until he started to pound into you. He angled your hips just right so your g-spot was getting the attention that it needed, and you couldn't hold in your moans. Once he reached down to circle your clit with his fingers, you cried out as that feeling built up so fast that your impending orgasm had your hands shaking as you gripped the sheets.

"That's it, baby. Cum for me."

Your legs were shaking on either side of his hips as that feeling washed over you, your bottom lip held in between your teeth so hard to attempt to not make the loud sounds that were threatening to escape. He was trying so hard to fuck you through it, but after he felt your pussy start to squeeze him, he knew he couldn't hold on any longer.

“Fuck,” he gasped, as he pulled out, releasing his hot cum on your stomach.

He took a minute to catch his breath as he tried to compose himself, but he couldn't stop looking at you. The way your blissed out eyes looked at him, the sweet smile on your lips, and seeing his cum on you was starting to make him hard again.

He finally tore his eyes away from you to grab some tissues out of the box on your nightstand, and cleaned you up before you both got up to quickly put your clothes back on. You could tell that he wanted to talk about what'd just happened, you did, too. But with the lack of time, you knew it would have to wait.

“I wish I could’ve taken my time with you,” he said, before you walked over to the door.

“There’s always next time,” you said, planting a kiss to his cheek.

You left your room first to join the party again. Your best friend came up to you once she saw you.

“So, how was it?” she asked.

“For a nerd, he sure knows what he’s doing,” you quietly joked, as he walked down the stairs.

“Dude, where were you?” your brother asked him, a blush rising to his cheeks at the question.

“Uh..I had to call my dad,” he lied, as your brother nodded at his response.

“Cool. I couldn’t find my sister either. I thought you two killed each other.”

#scream smut #scream #ethan landry #ethan landry smut #ethan landry x reader

294 notes · View notes

angelkhi · 1 year

Text

santa's little helper - j.m

pairing: joel miller x reader

summary: you get more than you bargained for being santa’s little helper.

warnings: SMUT 18+ (minors DNI), thigh riding, fingering, dirty talk, some cursing, unprotected sex in an apocalypse (big dumb bitches), creampie (even bigger dumber bitches), pet names, age gap, low-key feral joel, a little bit of pining if you take off your glasses and squint. idk i’m writing this post crimbo dinner prep i’m tired.

word count: 2k

a little note: the logistics of when the breakout started and when the reader was born do not make sense but that is not my fault i'm not a scientist and i'm bad at math. anyways here's my singular christmas fic. to anyone that celebrates merry christmas, and to those who don't, have a lovely december 🫶🏾 (also not proofread i’m tired and it’s christmas)

Christmas is one of the few traditions kept alive in Jackson, with handmade paper decorations about the houses, small Christmas trees nursed to health with the help of Joel, children running around singing festive songs you'd missed for so many years. You felt truly alive for the first time in a long time.

Joel's smile is light, barely visible behind the beard curated from yarn, but you’re close enough to see his upturned lips. His eyes flick over your outfit, a green t-shirt turned dress, some striped tights and a stroke of damn near magic with long expired makeup transforming you into Santa’s little helper.

"Cute as a button." He mumbles. A steady stream of children enter the makeshift grotto and you don't get to enquire. Not that you would. Your whole body is ablaze with nervousness, Joel's comment striking deep, so deep in fact you probably could've foreign caking deep pink out of date blush to your cheeks. He’s one of the few good men left in this world, and his rugged looks are an added bonus, so it’s no wonder you keen for his approval.

The day goes off without a hitch, the smiles on the children's faces when they got to meet the Father Christmas, the endless amounts of crayon covered decorations each kid got to design, the supply of sugar cookies that dwindled far too quickly. You almost felt bad for the sugar rush their parents would have to deal with later on in the evening. But they wouldn’t care. It’s Christmas.

By the end of the night you’re beyond tired. A few stranglers help with some off he menial tidying, but you send them on their way, your morning plans of self indulgent cleaning spree at risk of being disrupted.

The town is quiet, but brightly lit when you lock the double doors, and you use the rare moment of peace and quiet to appreciate all that you’ve endured.

"Let me walk you home." You yelp quietly, the voice from the darkness unexpected. Though not unwelcome when you spy Joel's broad shoulder leaning against the old barn.

"You scared the shot out of me" You pause to catch your beating. He looks apologetic and for a moment you're worried you upset him "You don't have to do that."

"Walk you home or scare the shit out of you?" You chuckle.

"Not scaring the shit out of me would be nice, but you don’t have to walk me home Joel." In fact you can see your home from where you’re standing it’s so close.

"I know. I want to."

Joel fears that's about as close as hell get to a confession. He admired your normalcy in a world far beyond it. He admired you, albeit secretly.

The two of you walk in silence, until he’s walking up your porch stairs and you’re panicking about the once welcomed silence, filling it with an invitation into your home. He accepts with a quiet smile, taking in the festive lights and handcrafted decor.

You guide him through the small hallway into a tiny living room, filled with random trinkets and furniture that’s worse for wear. Its more homely than his humble abode, and it screams you, warm and inviting.

He leans back into the worn sofa, his legs spread. Even in the Santa Clause get up you're not sure how to place yourself. It's Joel Miller for heavens sakes. A part of him secretly enjoys your nervous energy as you hover in front of him, not sure what exactly to do with yourself.

"Here come sit." Joel pats the faded velour, "tell me what you want."

He suggested it without thinking, and of course you comply. You’d walk into a building full of infected if he asked. Something shifts when you find yourself in his lap, you wonder if he notices it too, the way the air in the room suddenly grew thicker filled with something you’re not sure you’d ever be brave enough to act on. Your palms grow clammy. Breathe.

Joel is dumbfounded at just how perfect you look in his lap. He’d keep you there forever if he could. His hands rest on your thighs, thumbs guiding a small driving small patterns into the striped tights. He dips his head low, trying to meet your downcast eyes.

“I want you Joel.” The admission has your cheeks tingling in slight embarrassment and an underlying fear of rejection.

"That's it sweet girl. Use your words and i'll give you anything you want."

Those hands slip beneath your dress, a wide palm cupping your warm cunt. He holds your gaze, watching and waiting.

“I want you to fuck me.”

“That so?” He hums, eyes raking over your almost innocent face, then down to where your hips meet his. Two fingers tap your thigh and a commanding ‘up’ is spoken. You raise your hips as he asks, you’d do anything he asked in that moment. Joel’s hands snake around the back of your thighs, pausing for a brief moment before gripping the scratchy tights and pulling with vigor. They split easily under the force, exposing you to him. He thumbs the edge of your panties for a moment, the small creases in his forehead deepening when he takes you in.

"Red lace? Where on earth did you get these?" His tone is light, punching through the heavy thickness in his throat and he tries to collect himself, just for a moment.

"I don't scavenge and tell Mr Miller." You chide playfully.

“Don't care where you got em from as long as I get to keep em."

"Then earn them." Joel smiles, not one to back down from a challenge, giving you a small and simple nod.

He’s so gentle when he places you on the sofa you’re lost for a moment, then he’s on his knees in front of you, hands on your thighs spreading you open. His thumb traces over the wet gusset of the almost transparent lace, a perfectly harsh pressure building when he rests on your clit. He doesn’t bother wasting time taking off the pretty underwear opting to pull them aside instead.

All of that sweetness, all of the hesitation flies out of the window when he finally catches a glimpse of you, so ready for him. Joel’s sharp tongue is sweeping against you in a bruising rhythm, nipping and sucking on your exposed clit. He’s impatient and determined, losing himself in how good you taste, showing no mercy when you grind yourself against him, gasping when your clit swipes against the soft bump of his nose. Your hands swipe through his salt and pepper waves, pulling him closer and he decides then that he’d happily die between your thighs. Your soft whimpers grow louder until they’re high pitched whines whilst you chase the orgasm he’s so desperate to give you.

“Fuck Joel.” Your fingers tighten around his soft hair, his rough fingers curling your weeping hole. All it takes is on hooked finger pressing up against that spot, one more soft drag of his tongue and you’re finished. Joel’s hips buck up at nothing when you cum on his face, making those pretty noises, hips clean off the couch cushions as you ride out your orgasm. But he doesn’t let up, fingers moving at a languid pace.

"Gimme one more. One more and i'll fuck your pretty cunt so good you'll feel me for days." Cocky bastard.

You’ve clearly lost all sense, because you nod like you have anything left to give.

He doesn’t stop, not until you’re thighs are practically shaking around his head, and you can barely keep your head on your shoulders. He looks so proud of himself when you find the energy to open your eyes. Like he could walk away untouched, your release giving him all the pleasure he needs.

He manoeuvres your pliant body back into his lap, hands cupping your jaw, thumb stroking your cheek.

"I ain't gonna be sweet on ya." Lies. He's already more than sweet on you, half way to smitten and too much of a coward to confess. If he were one for making rash decisions he'd be on one knee begging you to marry him and making you cum on his face. Though he wouldn't need a rash decision for the latter.

"Don't want you to be soft on me Joel. Please." You grind your hips into his growing bulge, shuddering breaths drowning out your weak plea. You make quick work of pulling down the handmade red trousers, hesitating only for a moment when your fingers rest on the waistband of his boxer shorts.

Joel’s chest heaves a little when your soft hands grip him, dragging the shiny pink head of his cock against your wet cunt, slipping him into your sopping hole with ease.

“That’s it. Take what you need.” He rests a guiding hand on your hip, until your flush against him, taking him to the hilt.

“So good for me.” This man and his fucking mouth.

He presses his mouth against yours, kissing you and claiming you all at once. His lips are surprisingly soft, a heavy contrast to the way he’s gripping your hips, pulling you flush against him. It’s not lost on you that he’s doing all the work but there’s not a single thought left in your head, just Joel and how he feels and sounds.

"Got you nice and full don't I?" You try to speak, honestly you do, but all that comes out is a pathetic whine. "Too fucked out to speak. Look at ya', so perfect all for me."

There is nothing that could pry you away from each other in that moment, your panting breaths, the slight tinge of sweat, burnt sugar and pine in the air. Joel's illicit grunts and your soft screams.

He finds some restraint and pauses, somehow placing you flat on your back, the soft couch cushions moulding around your body, worn out springs creaking beneath the weight of you both.

He cages you in, relishing as you practically melt into the worn leather sofa. His fingers hook under your knee, lifting your thigh higher, the small amount of strain forgotten when he sinks back into you hard and deep.

He takes almost as much as he gives, driving his hips in a harsh rhythm chasing his release, watching the way your body responds to him. Pretty lips parted, eyes closed so tight, pussy clenching around him. Nothing will ever feel this good. Joel thumbs at your clit once again, and he completely surrounds you. He’s so deep you can just about breathe, his deep grunts and guttural moans floating about your once boring living room.

He gives you your third orgasm of the evening, and you feel everything but nothing all at once. There’s nothing but him and you and the knowing that you’d never felt this good before and nothing would ever come close again. His thrusts are relentless, your wet cunt clenching around him sending him over that perfect ledge. Your name is the only thing on his lips when he cums so deep, you’re not sure where he ends and you begin. He’s completely still, muscles taught goading himself through his orgasm, the feeling nothing short of euphoric.

Joel’s hands find your face again, that softness ever present and he melts into your body, your lips.

“Honey you with me?" He asks after a short moment, his voice hoarse. You nod at first, but he’s looking for words, words you’re struggling to find with what little bit of energy you have left.

"I'm with you. Seeing fucking stars but i'm with you." Joel's shoulders grow less tense at your reassurance. He nods, calloused fingers exploring your cool skin all over again. You gasp in unison when he slips out of you, tucking himself into his boxers and pulling your panties back into place.

"So. Did I earn my keep?" The elastic twangs against your skin and the pair of you share a breathy laugh.

"Sure did. I'm all about giving, in the spirit of christmas of course." He smiles, more triumphant than cocky, though it morphs into a look of pure determination when you speak again.

"Did I mention I have them in black too?"

#smut #tlou smut #tlou #tlou hbo #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal joel miller #pedro pascal smut #the last of us smut #the last of us hbo #joel miller x reader smut #christmas fic

2K notes · View notes

customizedstore · 10 months

Text

Christmas Cake T-Shirt, Tis the season Christmas T-Shirt, Christmas Shirt, Christmas Holiday T-Shirt

#ChristmasShirt Christmas Shirts #Christmas Shirt #Family Christmas #Happy Christmas #Merry Christmas #Most Wonderful Time #Christmas Gift #Christmas Tree #New Year Shirt #Farm Fresh Truck #Family Christmas Tee #Christmas Squad #dead inside shirt #skeleton Christmas #Christmas Cake T-Shirt #Tis the season Christmas T-Shirt #Christmas Holiday T-Shirt

0 notes

magnoliaspringdesign · 6 months

Text

#secret santa #christmas gift #funny #dirty santa #christmas #christmas presents #festive #holidays #christmas t-shirt #humor #christmas tree cake #treat #dessert #stocking stuffers #birthday gift #gift ideas

0 notes

bookshelf-dust · 1 year

Text

who’s pretty?

eddie munson x fem!reader

word count: 2,527

warnings: swearing, kissing, smoking (DON’T YOU EVEN THINK ABOUT IT), slight seasonal depression, innuendos/suggestive tone towards the end, allusions to nudity, fluff

a/n: hi!! i’ve been super excited to work on some christmas related fics, so here we are. i think it turned out super sweet and i think i might even like it! i really hope you guys like it too!! thanks for putting up with my shit. <333

————

Eddie spit out the plastic wrapper stuck between his teeth, setting the christmas tree cake in his mouth while he readjusted, tossing the film beside him on the porch and holding on to his cigarette more firmly.

Situated, the boy took an aggressive bite of the cake, red and green sprinkles crunching as he chewed. He swallowed, and took a slow drag, letting the smoke fill his lungs. He looked down, assessing the white icing covering his fingertips.

Eddie scarfed down the rest of his cake, licking the residue from his skin. Little Debbie wasn’t doing anything to soothe the ache in his chest. Neither was his cigarette.

Eddie watched the neighbors across the dirt road—it could hardly be called a street—wrap lights around their porch beams. Once up, they plugged them in, warm white lights illuminating the dingy gray of their trailer.

He tapped the ash off into the tray next to his thigh and scoffed a little. He always preferred the multi-colored lights to those.

He perked up, though, as the cat belonging to those very same neighbors leapt from the cat door and out into the sand, presumably in search of a mole or a cricket to snack on.

Eddie scratched his nails against the porch, watching for the cat’s head to snap up and notice that attention was waiting for him across the way.

He bounded over to Eddie, a black streak in the cool and foggy blue of the afternoon, starting to rub over his shoes and calves. “Hey, buddy.”

Eddie scratched behind the cats ears, rubbed his belly when he flipped over. But his visit was cut short as something moved in the overgrown grass and the cat shot away, back to business.

Eddie sighed, pushing off of the worn in wood, moving back inside.

The holiday season used to be Eddie Munson’s favorite time of the year. His uncle Wayne usually got two weeks off of work, and he’d spend them with his nephew, watching cheesy Christmas movies and eating themselves out of house and home.

He never got much in terms of gifts, nothing big or grand. But every band t-shirt Wayne brought home from the thrift store made Eddie’s heart grow two sizes. Every couple guitar picks or album that had a poster in the sleeve that Wayne would watch Eddie giddily tack up in his room.

As for Wayne, Eddie found that mugs were a very good gift, and could mean a lot. They did mean a lot.

Wayne didn’t love anything more than a nine-year-old, doe eyed Eddie running up to him with the present he’d hid in his room all December. He felt the same way when Eddie was twenty.

But it hadn’t been the same in recent years. It hurt, but Eddie knew that’s how it worked. Things changed, and the things you loved as a kid don’t feel the same as you get older. They aren’t the same.

Wayne didn’t get two weeks off for the holidays anymore. The plant wasn’t as abundantly employed as it used to be. He was lucky if he got Christmas Eve off and not just the day of. When Wayne was home, he was tired, and it wasn’t the occasion that it once was, full of hyper Eddie shenanigans.

But Eddie missed it. He missed going on walks to the rich neighborhoods to look at their elaborately set up light displays. He missed laying in bed at night, even long after he knew that Santa was actually Wayne and everything else was capitalist bullshit, trying to go to sleep so that his presents would be delivered.

Fuck, he missed being a kid.

He was lost in this mental turmoil spiral when the door slammed and Wayne returned from picking up dinner. Eddie hopped up, ready to help get plates out and make sure the restaurant hadn't forgotten anything.

"Hey, kiddo?" Wayne asked once they'd settled down to eat. Eddie looked up at his uncle from his place on the floor. With his legs crossed and hands bare of any jewelry, Wayne thought his nephew looked lightyears younger. Like his little boy. Eddie hummed in response.

"Merill's has a good bit of trees left. You wanna go pick one out in the next couple days?" Eddie's eyes lit up and he moved to sit on his knees, stuffing pizza crust in his mouth.

He finished swallowing, "Yeah, of course. You sure you won't be too tired or anything?"

Wayne watched as Eddie scanned for his next breadstick. He'd had that nervous habit since he was little: occupying himself while waiting for a response in fear that something would go wrong.

"No, bud. I'll be just fine."

And so they drove up to the farm and brought home one of the smallest and scraggliest trees--just like they always did. Wayne said those had the most character.

Later when it was getting dark outside and both parties were resting from getting the thing inside and in its stand, Eddie realized it was past time for Wayne to be at work, and he wondered if he'd possibly zoned out enough to entirely miss his uncle's goodbye.

He slipped down the hall, only to see Wayne sorting through various holiday lights. "Uh, Wayne?"

"Yeah, bud?"

"Aren't you late for work?"

"No, bud. I've got time off. Suppose I should've mentioned that, huh?" Wayne hadn't forgotten to tell Eddie. How could one forget that they had time off from work? He'd simply wanted it to be a surprise.

Eddie might've been very good at concealing his feelings in general, but Wayne knew he was bummed that Christmas had changed for the both of them. Wayne looked up at Eddie, who was practically beaming.

"Really? How long?"

"Two and a half weeks."

"Shit." Eddie was grinning hard, cheeks pinked and knees bopping slightly. He was excited.

"Guess that means your happy?" Wayne handed the boy one end of the lights to plug in and check they still worked.

"Well, yeah, duh."

"What would you think about asking Y/N over? She could spend the night on Christmas Eve and then the day if she's up for it. Thought maybe you'd like that. I could cook or somethin'."

"I think she'd love that. And you don't have to cook. She'd gladly eat take out, I know."

That night, Wayne stepped out of the bathroom to see Eddie lying on the floor in front of the tree reading, but also staring up at the colored lights in awe. Wayne felt his eyes get glassy and blinking the oncoming tears away. His boy.

He walked over, crouching to plant a prickly kiss in Eddie's curls, only to ruffle them afterwards. "Night, Eds."

Eds. His uncle was the only person that had ever called him that before you. He didn't say it often, but it was one of his favorite things to hear. "Night, Wayne."

————

"Hey, precious." Eddie swung the door open for you, simultaneously shoving a cookie in his mouth.

"Afternoon, Edward." Eddie wrinkled his nose at the use of his birthname, which you kissed in greeting.

"Want a cookie? They've got sprinkles."

"In a second. I've brought a gift for your pretty tree." You set your bag on the coffee table.

"Who's pretty?" Wayne asked, emerging from the back of the trailer.

"You Waynie," Eddie quipped, earning himself a playful smack on the back of the head.

"The tree is pretty, Wayne," you supplied. "I brought it presents. Sorta."

Eddie watched as you dug around, pulling free two ornaments, though he couldn't quite make out what they were.

"Here, Wayne, this one's yours." He held out his hand, and you set the object in his palm. His was a little Garfield ornament. The cat was wearing blue pajamas and was holding a little teeny coffee mug.

Wayne laughed appreciatively. "That's a good one, sweetie. Thank you. Will you find it a good spot on the tree for me?"

"Sure!" He squeezed your shoulder and watched as you put it front and center, towards the middle of the tree, that way Garfield could keep watch.

Wayne walked off into the kitchen, giving you space to give Eddie his prize.

Eddie waited patiently, though that was often a struggle for him. "Okay, I might've gotten you two. But I couldn't not get one of them." Eddie held out both hands, grinning expectantly. It was simple, really, the more you looked at it. A black sphere with purple lettering. One side said Master of Reality, the other Black Sabbath.

"Holy shit," Eddie said, turning the ball over in his hands. "Where'd you find this?"

"The record store in town had a whole bunch of old ornaments on sale, like they'd been cleaning out the back, and I thought you'd like it. Do you?"

Eddie smacked a dramatic kiss on your forehead. "Are you fuckin' kidding me? Of course I like it." He couldn't take his eyes off of it, mainly because it was so sweet of you to have gotten for him, but also because he thought it was funny that the store still had one considering how long the album had been out.

Eddie was lost in thought when you approached him with the next one. "When I went to get a book last week they had this little tree covered in book-related ornaments, and I saw this and I gasped so hard the lady behind me asked me if I was alright."

Eddie laughed, throwing his head back, and you took the opportunity to hang the ornament off of the tip of your finger to show him. He looked down, only to see a small painted ornament that looked like a book. It was The Hobbit.

"Baby." You were the one grinning like an idiot now. That one earned you a sweet kiss on the lips.

“Isn’t it cool?” You asked, pointing out that the text was raised and everything, that the spine even had ridges.

“It’s so cool.” He spun around to walk the few feet into the kitchen. “Wayne, would you look at this?”

Eddie’s uncle did as requested, smiling at your gesture. “That is very cool, Eds. Looks better than the copy you’ve got.”

“It totally does!” The boy wasn’t even slightly offended.

Eddie marched over to the tree, nestling the ornament amongst the others, along with his Black Sabbath one.

He turned to you, taking your face in his hands.“Thank you, sweetheart. I’m gonna be so annoying about those now.”

“I know. I prepared myself on the way here.” The smile he gave you was brilliant, and there was no other way to describe it.

————

The three of you spent a good portion of Christmas Eve making cookies: gingerbread, snickerdoodles, shitty sugar ones with sad icing jobs. Though, you did make sure to get most of it done early so there was time to chill.

You watched loads of movies. How the Grinch Stole Christmas had been on that morning, and Eddie extravagantly performed “You’re a mean one, Mr. Grinch” for you, poking at your sides to get you to smile.

Eddie rented Die Hard for you, just because he knew you had the hots for Alan Rickman. He slipped it in the VHS slot, only for Wayne to say, “This the one with her pretty boy in it?”

Eddie practically cackled as you sunk into the couch more than he thought possible.

“He’s not a boy,” you argued. “He’s a total man, thank you very much.”

You watched Gremlins, and Eddie laid his head in your lap. You missed the way Wayne looked over at the two of you, in awe of how lucky he was that his boy had found someone so good. He thought about how happy he was to have this little family.

Wayne picked up food from Benny’s, not wanting to have to cook two nights in a row.

At the end of the night, Eddie finished off his first pile of rentals with Silent Night, Deadly Night. You didn’t mind, not with how excited he was about it. You loved a good slasher anyhow.

It was well past midnight when the film was over, and you cleaned up the popcorn mess while Eddie rinsed cans out for the recycling before the both of you slipped away to allow Wayne some rest before the big day.

Eddie had been in the bathroom while you went into his room to get changed. You slipped out of your pajama bottoms, opting for no pants at all considering Eddie was like a human furnace.

You heard the door click shut behind you as you pulled your shirt over your head, leaving your back bare to him. Eddie wolf-whistled.

You through the shirt at him, aiming for his face, only for him to catch it instead. “Usually it’s dinner and a show, not bedtime and a show, but I’ll take it, hot stuff.”

“Shut the fuck up, Munson.” Eddie giggled to himself as he stopped you from putting on your own shirt, reaching for one of his own. He pulled out his worn in Master of Reality t-shirt.

“Seems appropriate, don’t you think?” He slipped the fabric over your head. “Stick your arm through—there you go.” Once settled, he kissed you sweetly before giving you a light slap on the ass as you climbed into bed.

“C’mon now pretty boy, let’s see my bedtime show.”

Eddie shimmed out of his sweats for you, stepping out of them with a flourish. You giggled at his underwear, which had little Santa hats on them.

“Don’t laugh, they’re comfortable!” He took off his shirt and you made grabby hands at him.

You sat up on your knees to kiss his spider tattoo and then the demon, making sure to hit them all. You made him spin to get the newer one on the small of his back: very sexy bat wings.

Eddie crawled into bed with you, switching his lamp off. “Now, look, I know I’m insatiable, and you’d probably love to stay up all night kissing me, and sweet-talking me, but we gotta get to sleep if we want Santa to come.”

He tickled his fingers up your arm when you stared to laugh, burying your face in his chest.

“Eddie, my love, you haven’t got a chimney.”

He scoffed, fighting a laugh. “You doubt Santa’s abilities to get me my presents though I lack the typical vessel? He has his ways, baby. Damn.”

Eddie reached for your thigh, grabbing hold and swinging it over both of his before kneading at the squish of it. He patted it fondly before he kissed your forehead.

“Merry Christmas, you little shit,” you said. “I love you.”

Eddie snickered. “Goodnight, pain in my ass. I love you more.”

The holiday season had officially climbed right back up to being one of Eddie Munson’s favorite things. He thought, laying there beside you that night, that you and Wayne were the best people in the world.

It felt like all the shitty Christmases had been leading up to this fucking excellent one, and he was over the moon.

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson christmas fic #eddie munson comfort #eddie munson x you #eddie munson oneshot #eddie the banished #eddie munson x female reader #savannah’s fics

943 notes · View notes

blingblong55 · 7 months

Text

Ghost of the past -Alex Keller

Based on a request:

Alex Keller angst with f reader? 👀 Do your worst, break my heart --- F!Reader, angst, death of character, cheating, established!relationship ---

It's perfect, a relationship between a soldier and his civilian girlfriend, nothing more than happiness and great talks. That is what the plan was meant to be like. The day he met her, something you wish to know how it went. Platonic, is all he explained, but she was not meant for that and neither were you. Farah, the girl he worked with, was so sweet you too swore she was just a friend, clung to that. Just a friend. His gaze, was not on yours but on her as she wore a gown to the military ball. Oh sweet sight he held dear to him. He never called your relationship love, something you did behind his back. The chilly autumn wind, the scarf that he kept in his home even to this day. Last reminder of what once was.

Singing in cars, dancing in bars and kissing at American football games when his favourite team won. Getting lost in the woods so he can have just five more minutes of you. Family album his mum swore you and he would create the minute he married you. "Come on sweet pea," something he always said to you, now said to his oh-so-sweet love. The love he had for you is long gone, something he wished to hold for just five more minutes, get lost in the woods with you for that time. Just him and you.

Dancing in the kitchen's dim light, the fireplace keeping you warm as the winter winds came by. Your scarf on the sofa as he made love to you that night. His clothes and boots were under your bed as he claimed your body over and over again.

"Alex Keller will be your teammate for this, Farah," what a way to meet the jewel of his glimmery eyes. The family home you swore he'd grown old in with you, now left abandoned at that mossy end of the road. No more drives to the airport for him, no more keeping up with American football teams for when he came back home to ask who would be going to the Superbowl. He lost the one cheerleader that kept her chant even at the worst of times. Hand in hand, hospital rooms, sick days and now...tombstone he cleans.

"Alex!" you giggle as he carries you through the field. His brothers chasing you both. Flag football, trying to win the heart of his dear sweet pea and the carrot cake his lovely mother made. Did she know you were the first girl he took home? Did she know you were the one who held his hand when she failed to cover for him on the battlefield? Maybe not but could she care he lost it all after you?

Now, he walks through that empty football stadium alone, the January wind making his nose red. The same one you kissed with his rosy cheeks. "And this was him at 5, Halloween at the old house," his mum shared the picture of the young Alex.

"One day, you and I will walk that same street, trick or treating with our children," he kisses your temple on that November night.

"Wait, what does that mean?" you ask him, he chuckles and cups your face. "They are going to the Super Bowl, sweet pea," the Eagles t-shirt hung from his shoulder.

"WE WON!" He raises his arms and then turns to you, a smile on your face. Eagles shirt, worn by you.

Springtime came by last spring morning with you. The night time came quickly and so did the end. You drove to the local shop for some medicine and then you saw it. Her hand, greeting his mothers. Your heart ached. Was this the reason why for Christmas, Thanksgiving and New Year's he told you, he would be away and not contact his family? Was he creating those memories with her? Deception, betrayal and solitude. All given in the blink of an eye by the man who fathered your unborn child.

Flashbacks swarm you. August, when he kissed your forehead and drove you to the first of many lectures you gave as a professor. September, the way he made love to you, how by morning he made breakfast, how in that night of love, you made the child that would hold his last name. October, the sweet nothing he whispered before he went on deployment. November, December and January of that time, how you didn't hear from him or anyone of his family. Betrayal began on the second of October. March only brought blues and grey skies.

April brought black gowns.

"R/N, please let me explain. I got carried away, I forgot-"

"You forgot me, Alex! You forgot me!" you cry, the resentment felt by the child growing in you. "It's not that, I swear it's just-"

"Was it not enough? To give you all of me? I never asked for much. Respect and honesty? Was it so hard for you to even give me the decency to not run around town with her?"

"It's not good for the baby-"

"Don't you pretend to know between right and wrong!"

That night, it is said that a soldier so fierce and strong like him became the weakest of them all. He lost the battle between you and life. He became a man...no...he became the ghost of a man. A ghost that haunts the home he made with you. The empty cradle, the empty side of the bed that belonged to you. The two tombstones he visits every day. The picnics and conversations he has with two souls who wanted him home, all as he created another home with a woman who fell in love with someone else.

Wise men say, don't chase two lovers, not when the right one is there, playing the fool as you chase the one who can't give you more than a glance or a word. Stay with the one who made you feel safe in a danger zone. Stay with the one who even after all, made you soup, tucked you in bed and reminded you of how strong you are, all whilst she carried your child. A child he never met, a child that went with you to the great big sky.

"I'm sorry, sweet pea," the drunken man cried to the tombstone of what was his beloved. Spring, Summer, Autumn and Winter, all watched him beg to the skies for a second chance at this. To press replay on that time of his life, when he had it all. The girl of his dreams, the woman set to carry his blood, the woman who cheered him on during war. Now, all that is left of you, is all you left at home. The way you set the portraits, the furniture and the nursery, to only be watched by the ghost of him. Fool, the man he became.

A/N: I love Farah, okay, so this is no hate for my baby Farah, I just needed to make this interesting

Tags: @liyanahelena @sadisticfiremelon @aquavenus58 @iamashadows-blog

137 notes · View notes

hetalianskywalker · 5 months

Text

Wedding Cake Cookies

Summary: Captain Rex makes it to Coruscant in time for your favorite Life Day tradition.

Author’s Note: Captain Rex x reader Life Day fic. Purely self indulgent and making Mexican Wedding Cake Cookies, my favorite Christmas Cookie.

Warnings: Fluff with an implication of something more at the end. Baking cookies.

Word Count: 1227

Thank you for reading!

“What are you making, senaar?” You jump a little, having been far too focused rolling the dough in your hands. You could hear the sound of a half-suppressed chuckle as you turned to face him. The scared surprise melts away into pure joy.

“Well hello to you too.” You tease gently, setting down the chilled dough. He meets you halfway and pulls you into a warm hug. Well, warm as it could be with the plastoid still on.

“I thought you had another week.” You mutter as you close your eyes, basking in his presence. Your arms hold firm around him and he kisses the top of your head.

“The general found a way to get back early.” You can’t help but laugh at that one; your face still hidden in his chest. They had made it home just before Life Day; there was no way Skywalker didn’t have secret plans. However, you weren’t going to look a gift Orbak in the mouth.

“Of course he did.” You huff good naturedly. You look up at him and Rex arches an eyebrow. Your grin only grows.

“Don’t go starting any rumors, cyare.” You get on your tiptoes and give him a quick peck.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Your captain rolls his eyes before they wander back to your cookies-to-be. You blink as your mind comes back online. He had probably never had them before, especially since they weren’t an extremely popular Life Day cookie.

“Their called Ferrix Wedding Cake Cookies, but I’ve heard pantorans have them too and call them Pantoran Tea Cookies.” You reluctantly let go of his waist before grabbing his hand. He lets you bring him to your kitchen counter where the still cool dough sits waiting. You had rolled it out before it chilled and were slowly tearing pieces off to roll into balls; your hands’ heat making the hard dough more malleable.

“The dough smells really nice.” You giggle at the genuine remark. You turn and catch his brown eyes for a split second before quickly looking away at the dough again. You press your lips together to hide the smile at his slightly flustered expression.

“That would be the vanilla extract and butter.” You respond, taking in the nostalgic smell for a moment. He watches you quietly set the finished ball on the tray. Rex’s shoulders relax as he watches you, enjoying the peace, your presence, and that softly sweet smell. He’s home.

“Would you like me to roll or put them on the tray?” You beam at the offer, but shake your head.

“Go take your armor off, Rex. Get comfortable first.” You gently respond, wanting to make sure he didn’t misunderstand your rejection, as you tear off another piece of dough. He kisses your temple in response as you begin rolling the dough. You listen to his boots head toward the bedroom and then the door sliding open and closing.

You pause a moment, feeling your eyes well up with unshed tears. You rest the ball on the counter as you blink them away. You hadn’t realized how lonely you were this Life Day, adding on to the stress of the war in general and worrying about him.

But he was here. Really here. Maker, he came home during your favorite holiday tradition; you got to share it with him. And now you didn’t have to spend the holiday alone, but more than that, you have your Rex to spend it with.

You smile, taking a deep breath. No time for tears. You quickly get back to work; maybe you can have them in the oven and start a pot of caf before he gets back.

***

You flop down on the couch as you hear the bedroom door open. Rex pauses upon seeing you on the couch; you grin, waving him over. He looks much more comfortable in the black sweatpants and blue t-shirt, but the exhaustion is way more obvious.

He sits beside you and you immediately cuddle into his side for warmth. His body only relaxes more and lets himself sink into the couch.

“Your highness,” your sing-songy tone makes him turn to you with amused curiosity. The teasing about the translation of his name to basic only meant trouble.

He gave an inquisitive humm in response. You giggle as you feel the vibrations just as much as hear them.

“You’re tired.” You state.

“Am I that easy to read?” He leans his forehead against your own and you feel your face grow warm at the gesture.

“Yes.” He gives a slightly sour look and you laugh. The look he gives you melts away into a content one as you both drift into a comfortable silence. Coruscant rain hitting your window and traffic become the main sounds in your apartment. One of the best parts of your relationship was how you could both be content with just the other’s presence.

“When will the cookies be done?” He inquires as he plays with your hair.

“About 5 minutes now, but the caf should be done already.” The thankful smile that graces his face makes starting the pot beyond worth it. “I don’t want you falling asleep on me.”

“No, I’ll try a cookie first, senaar.” It’s your turn to become flushed. It turns to laughter as you watch him fight a yawn.

You slowly get up. His hand lingers until you are out of reach and you are hit with the reminder that he missed you as much as you missed him. You reach back for his hand and give it a gentle tug. He laughs at your futile attempt to get him on his feet before slowly getting up.

Once back in the kitchen, you begin to pour two cups of caf. He stands behind you with his arms gently wrapped around your waist. You can’t help but smile as you hand him his cup as the timer goes off. Grabbing the mits, you take the tray out of the oven.

“They don’t expand?” Rex asked, sounding a little confused.

“Not really. They still taste good though.” You gently set the tray down as you hear him sip his caf. “They just have to cool and then they get covered in powdered sugar.”

He moves out of the way as you go to grab the bag. Once you have a bowl of powdered sugar ready, you ask about the recent battles. You listen to what he wishes to speak of, but respect what is too hard for him to talk about.

“It’s hard to wait.” He says after you both were lost in conversation for a while. You laughed, being caught off guard, and almost choke on your caf. He presses his lips together as the contained laughter makes his shoulders shake. “What? They smell good.”

“Alright. Alright.” You laugh and dunk two of the cookies in the sugar and hand one to Rex. You watch him take a bite and you blush as he closes his eyes, enjoying the taste.

“Good huh?” He gives you a bright smile in response. He sets down the rest of the cookie and pulls you close.

“Yes, ma’am.” The way Rex says it brings a chill up your spine as you meet him halfway for a kiss. Maybe the rest of the cookies could wait for sugar till Life Day Morning.

#star wars #captain rex #rex x reader #star wars: the clone wars #fluff #captain rex x reader #life day #christmas cookies

53 notes · View notes