#a reblog without a comment would be nice or just like a heart or a this was great would be so fucking wonderful but I guess that’s too much

[thegoldencontracts]

(Overlooked Aspects Of) Cater Diamond

Okay, so to start off, this post is not intended to judge anyone. All headcannons of Cater are completely valid, and I would not only not mind - but also actively appreciate - if someone wanted to make corrections or arguments in reblogs or comments. This is just an analysis of parts of Cater that I believe are not given much focus, and would therefore like to highlight. With that being said:

Cater Diamond is a very complex character beneath the surface of a friendly, Magicam-obsessed senior. Definitely more to him than meets the eye. There's obviously the fact that he's certainly not as happy as he claims to be, but less frequently mentioned is the reason why.

Cater's Lab Vignette introduces this aspect of Cater's character, with the storyline of him making mandrakes with Lilia and Vil. The mandrakes are said to reflect the traits of the person infusing magic into it, and Cater's-

Vil: Oh, dear... This mandrake's hugging its knees and huddling in place.

Cater's also mentioned to make a bunch of mandrakes and hide the ones that don't fit the happy 'Cay-Cay' image. In a way, this is also an analogy for himself, hiding the parts of himself that don't seem perfectly upbeat from others.

Now, why exactly does he behave this way? The most common answer is usually that his sisters forced him to conform to their standards of cuteness, and that in pleasing them, he developed his current facades of a perfectly cute and happy senior. And although his sisters likely did play a part in it, there's also another reason for the distance he puts between himself and others.

In Cater's Halloween Vignette, he mentions the following:

Cater: I guess I have a wide circle of contacts, sure. My dad works at a bank that has branches all around the world, so every time he was transferred to a new office, the whole family went with him. We moved about once every two years. I'm a real pro at packing by now, lemme tell you. ... Cater: But for all the people I met, one thing never changed( ...) I would always leave, and they would always stay. That's why I always tried to be on good terms with everyone, rather than forge strong bonds with a chosen few. Like a circus performer who has a grand old time with people from around the world, and then packs up and moves on. In that sense, Magicam's been seriously great because I can get messages from people I knew at school three years ago. I can have all the casual connections I can handle. And that's just my speed, right?

Essentially: Cater's moved so often that he's adapted to forming shallow connections with everyone he can rather than actually trying to bond with him. He wants casual connections, because that's what he can handle. He views people rather impersonally, because he knows that he'll have to leave them eventually.

And that's likely a major reason for the facade he puts up. He's afraid of being vulnerable. Of forming a bond with someone and getting attached, only to have to leave them behind eventually. "Cay-Cay" the agreeable senior is a tool to form these casual little connections and play nice without getting attached, so that, when he inevitably has to leave, he doesn't get his heart broken.

This also leads to and explains another aspect of Cater's character: His occasionally questionable morality.

Cater had frequently displayed a willingness to trick people into doing his bidding. Not evil, by any means, but still questionable. There's obviously his introduction in Book 1, where he straight-up tricks Ace and Deuce into doing his work for him, and there's also scenes like Jade mentioning he'd like to have Cater as an older brother, one of the reasons being-

Jade: ...His ability to collect and disseminate information on Magicam is mind-boggling.

Basically, Cater is willing to use other people to do his bidding, and part of this stems from the fact that he's always keeping them at an arms' distance. You know, nothing personal, bud, just how the world works.

Anyways, in short, a large part of Cater's facade is caused by a fear of vulnerability stemming from the lack of permanence in his life, and that also affects his willingness to use other people.

With that being said, one final thing. The fic that inspired me to put all these thoughts about Cater together into one post. Its take on Cater's family is super refreshing!

The Company's Quite Nice (On Crimson Nights Like These)

#twst analysis #cater diamond #twst cater #twisted wonderland

[alwritey-aphrodite]

So excited that having almost 1000 followers means I get notes on my fics…

#like what the actual fuck #I feel like having over 900 followers means I should get at least 100 notes per fic on the low end… and here I am fucking begging for 20 #I spend hours and hours writing and editing and making moodboards like I have other responsibilities I’m a full time student but I love #writing and I love sharing my writing but it’s so fucking draining like I’m screaming into the void every time I post #I should need to beg for notes or interaction why is it so hard for people like… I’d rather you not follow me if you’re never going to #interact and I don’t write for the notes but I do post for notes… would an author publish a book just for no one to buy it??? like even #a reblog without a comment would be nice or just like a heart or a this was great would be so fucking wonderful but I guess that’s too much #ask for #anyway… idk how to feel rn

[navybrat817]

Why isn't Bucky waking me up to have his way with me?

I wish I had the answer, nonnie!

Slip Inside

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky can't resist having you when he comes home.

Word Count: Over 1.5k

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, unprotected vaginal sex, somnophilia (at first), established relationship, pet names, possessive behavior, slight feels (it's me, okay?), lovesick and needy Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: I can't send Bucky, but here you lovelies go! ❤️Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky wasn't meant to be home until tomorrow. He almost called to let you know he’d be back a day early, but it was late and he didn't want to disturb your slumber. Imagining the happy look in your eyes when you woke up beside him brought a smile to his face. Being loved by you was something he still couldn't believe was real some days, but he knew in the depths of his soul that you would always be his girl.

“Welcome home,” he whispered to himself when he saw you in bed, a sight for sore eyes.

He kept his gaze on you as he undressed, careful not to make any noise. You had an arm draped over the pillow next to you, the one he usually rested his head on. His heart raced as he took a step closer and gently pulled the blanket away, your body barely covered by the shirt he recently bought for you. Shivering slightly, you tried to curl in on yourself, but stilled quickly.

Like you knew he was watching you.

“I love you,” he breathed into the room.

You replied with a moan and rubbed your hand against the pillow.

You were beautiful when you slept. If you asked him, you were gorgeous all the time. A breathless kind of vision that he grew to appreciate more and more each day. But you weren't like a piece of art for him to just admire. You were the type of beauty meant to be appreciated.

And he gladly did so with his hands, mouth, and cock.

Oh, he loved you. Fuck, he needed you, too. It was an ache. A hunger. Awake, asleep, it didn't matter as long as he had you. And you were understanding enough to let him take what he needed.

“Mine,” he whispered.

Bucky quickly took the opportunity to slip into the bed and spoon you from behind. Your steady breathing grounded him in a sense while awakening the beast he kept at bay. The one that wanted to come out and play. One that needed to bury himself deep and keep you full.

If you were awake, he would've turned your head to kiss you nice and slow, unrushed even with the mounting desperation. Instead he rubbed his nose and scruffy chin at the juncture between your neck and shoulder, breathing in the distinctly sweet scent of you while wanting to leave his claim. That no one else could touch or have you. That you were his.

“You're mine,” he growled lowly.

Rubbing the inside of your thigh once he pushed your shirt up enough, he heard your breathing hitch. He wasn't ready for you to wake up just yet, but it didn't keep him moving his hand higher and grasping the elastic of your underwear. He debated tearing the offending fabric off, but he couldn't fault you for wearing them.

You didn't know he'd come home tonight.

He also thought about touching you through your panties to feel you squirm under his touch. Your whines and whimpers always made his cock twitch, especially when you soaked the fabric. Sometimes he liked to shove them in your mouth so you could taste yourself and know he was the one who did that to you.

Only him.

He brushed his lips along your skin as he pulled it down, almost wishing he was in front of you so he could look down and see your exposed pussy. “Mine,” he whispered again as his fingers parted your folds and skimmed over your clit.

You moved back against him with a sigh, enticing him without even trying. Alternating between teasing the bundle of nerves and your slit, he felt his own breathing get heavier and harsh with each passing second. By the time he brought his fingers to his mouth to lick your juices away, his cock was hard and heavy with the need to sink into your dripping cunt. He grunted as your flavor exploded on his tongue. He was done with foreplay.

And with how you panted and writhed, you were ready for him.

He hooked your leg over his thick thigh to open you up, hoping it wouldn't hurt when you stretched around him. “I love you,” he said once more as he brushed the tip of his cock against your hole, sighing as he slowly filled you up.

He had to close his eyes and hide his face in your neck to keep from losing it. He could go for hours when he wanted to, but the feel of your warm wetness gripping him like a vice was almost too much. Finishing quickly or not didn't matter. You’d take it as a compliment if your sweet cunt made him empty himself inside you so fast.

But he had to make it last and make you come first.

With a deep breath, he got himself under control. You let out the sweetest whine when he almost pulled out completely and shoved himself back in. Curled around you, all you could do was take his deep thrusts. He could've breathed through his nose and tried to stay quiet. He could’ve gone slow and steady. But he moaned and nipped at your skin, not wanting to hide his desire for you.

He couldn't see your face, but he felt you roll your hips back as you began to stir and heard another whine escape. You weren't completely awake, but your body craved what he was doing to you. It was enough for him to roll you on your stomach and quicken his pace.

“Bucky?” You mumbled.

“Sorry, sweetheart. I couldn't resist. Your pussy’s too good,” he groaned, putting a hand to the back of your neck to hold you still. “I need you. Need to feel you come on my cock.”

You fluttered around him as he stretched over your back, forcing you to take every inch of him. Your body went pliant as you let out a tired and needy moan. If you wanted him to stop, you would’ve told him to do so. “Please,” you whined as he practically rutted into you.

“I got you,” he grunted, driving harder into you as your fingers twisted in the sheets. “Missed you. Missed you so fucking much. Might need to keep my cock in you all night.”

You trembled, both of you knowing you’d lay there and let him fuck you all night if he asked. You were so good for him. And greedy. It would be wrong of him not to give you what you longed for.

“And you'll let me fill you up, won't you? Of course, you will,” he panted against your ear. You tried to arch your back, but his massive frame overpowered you. “It’s okay. Just take it. Let me have you.”

Fucking you raw was a gift he’d selfishly continue to ask for and take. But how could he not? You always let out the prettiest sounds when he flooded your holes.

He couldn't stop himself from shoving his hand between the mattress and your body, seeking out your clit to tip you over the edge. Moans poured from you as he lightly pinched it, giving you the push you needed. “That’s it. Come on my cock. My cock. My good girl,” he encouraged as you clamped around him hard enough for him to lose his breath.

You nearly cried as he took you apart. “Bu… Bucky…”

“Trembling around my cock. Greedy girl,” he moaned, his hips snapping faster as he brought his mouth back to your ear. “My turn.”

He let out a deep groan as he stilled, filling you. His release hit him so hard his head spun, muttering his love for and possession of you as his eyes fluttered. You let out a broken moan as you clenched around him again and he had to keep from collapsing against you, both of you fighting for air.

“Love you,” he mumbled, wanting you to hear it now that you were awake.

He only pulled out so he could move you to your back and desperately kiss your lips the way he needed to, pushing himself back inside your leaking hole with a hum. Your eyes were half-lidded when he broke the kiss. Your gaze made him want to ruin you all over again.

“Love you, too,” you croaked, your back bowing when he groped your breast through the shirt. “Welcome home.”

Bucky’s heart pounded as he leaned down to kiss you again. It was a dance of tongue and teeth, dizzying and passionate. Some days you were the fire and others you were the fuel. You accepted the entirety of him and he welcomed everything you selflessly gave him in return.

“Good to be home, baby,” he smirked, brushing his thumb along your covered nipple. “Now stay awake. I need to fill you up at least two more times before the sun comes up.”

Even after that, he wasn't close to being done with you. But he was whole because he was home with you. And that would always be enough.

We deserve this, okay? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

#navybrat writes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x female!reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fan fic #bucky barnes smut #bucky fic #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes x reader #james bucky barnes x reader #james barnes x reader #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan

[buckybabesonly]

Nothing Breaks Like A Heart

Summary: You finally confess your feelings to Bucky, hoping he might like you back. He turns you down.

Pairing: Bucky x Female!Avenger!reader

Genre: Angst, fluff

Warnings: Mentions of heavy drinking, no other significant warnings really without spoiling the plot 🤫

Word count: 6.5k

A/N: If you enjoyed this one, please do leave a comment / feedback / reblog! ❤️

Loving Bucky was like drinking honey. It was warm and comforting, sweet and overwhelming for your senses. You looked forward to seeing his face everyday and adored hearing him laugh, his whole face creasing when he doubled over at something funny you had said.

He had become an unlikely close ally since you joined the team. More than just a colleague. The time you’d spent together in the last year had been a defining period for you, as you had really grown to treasure his presence in your life.

God, the way this man made you feel. You didn’t think you’d ever be lucky enough to meet someone who would make you so happy.

It would be even better if you actually had the gall to tell him how you felt.

Being emotionally vulnerable was difficult. You wanted more, but it was scary. However, you recalled a piece of advice that one of your college professors had told you years ago, wise words which stuck with you. If you never try, the answer will always be no.

You had it set in your mind that you were going to tell him. You were, but maybe not today. You would wait for tomorrow. Or the day after that. Or the day after that.

Your inner turmoil was frustrating. You fought androids and aliens and god knows what else, but you were afraid of this?

It could mess everything up, you reasoned. If he didn’t return your feelings, then you would make everything awkward, and maybe you would lose him even as a friend. You didn't know if you could handle that.

Despite this, a tiny hopeful voice in your head told you that Bucky felt the same about you. The way he always looked for a reason to spend time with you, how he shared his deepest secrets with you. The way you always partnered up on missions, and how you always had each other's backs. The way he comforted you when you were sad, allowing you to cry on his chest, soothing fingers stroking your hair.

When you first joined the team, he had been the first one to properly befriend you. Your first encounter was in the kitchen, where you had ended up in the middle of the night after being unable to sleep.

You were shocked to see Bucky propped up on a breakfast stool at the kitchen island, book in hand. You had waved nervously at him, going over to the fridge to get a carton of chocolate milk.

“Can’t sleep?” he grunted. You glanced to see what it was reading, seeing 'The Hobbit' embossed in gold letters across a hardback cover.

“Yeah,” you said softly, tugging down at the hem of your sleep shirt. You hadn’t exchanged many words with him at this point, but he seemed friendly enough. “You want a glass?”

He contemplated for a second before he nodded. “Sure.”

You ended up sitting opposite each other, glasses of chocolate milk in hand.

“How come you’re awake?”

Bucky smiled wryly. “I have trouble sleeping.”

“Nightmares?”

“Something like that.”

You hummed to yourself, taking a sip of the sweet beverage. There was something childish but comforting about chocolate milk - you always used to have it with your mom when you were small.

“How you feeling?” Bucky asked, breaking the silence. “Settling in?”

You nodded, the grip around your glass tightening. “Yeah, kind of. Everyone’s nice.”

Bucky seemed to know that you wanted to say more, silently promoting you with his eyes to continue.

“Everybody seems very tight knit - I guess that makes me a bit nervous? Trying to fit in.” You looked down, chewing on your lower lip. "I've always had a bit of trouble with that."

“I get you,” Bucky said, eyes still observing you. They were the color of cobalt - stunning. “Don’t worry. I think you’ll do just fine.”

That was the first meeting, and since then, you had only grown closer to him. Your mid-night conversations were a frequent occurrence. At least once or twice a week, you’d find each other in the kitchen at ungodly hours. Over time, you had introduced other activities to pass the time - board games, watching TV shows, fun idle gossip. Each time, you were always accompanied by chocolate milk.

“My mom died when I was six,” you had told Bucky during one of your late night rendezvous, half a year into your time with the team. “I don’t have many memories of her, but I remember that whenever I was sick or sad, she would have chocolate milk with me. It always cheered me up.”

You exchanged nuggets of information about each others pasts, and soon, you were sure that Bucky knew enough about you to write your biography. You felt surprisingly fine, opening up to him about anything and everything.

The seasons passed in a flash, and it was suddenly the one year anniversary of your joining the team. You found Bucky in the kitchen once again, at 3AM on a Thursday. You had a smile ready on your face, though your limbs ached. They were littered with bruises and cuts from your latest mission, but seeing him put a bounce in your step.

Bucky was staring down at his phone, the glow illuminating his face in the semi-darkness. It was chiming loudly with notifications, his expression unreadable.

“What’s that?” you asked, making your presence known.

Bucky already had a glass of milk out for you. He placed his phone down, grimacing.

“Sam got me doing this online dating thing,” he said casually. Your smile fell, unable to hide your surprise. “Modern dating is kind of crazy. Women are so much bolder than in the 40s."

Online dating? What?

“I didn’t know you started online dating,” you said, trying to keep your voice light. You didn’t even know Bucky was Iooking to date. You were deflated - any hopes that Bucky returned your crush were promptly dashed. You tried to swallow your disappointment.

“I wasn’t, really,” he said. “I guess it’s not the worst idea, though.”

Damn you, Sam Wilson, you thought.

“You meet women in real life all the time,” you said, taking your usual seat across him. “No one catch your interest?” You played nonchalantly with your fingers, trying not to pick your nails - a nervous habit.

Bucky pursed his lips, eyes landing on you for a moment before he looked at the ceiling.

“Ah, I don’t know.”

“You met anyone nice so far?” you probed, your jealousy spiking.

“Early days,” he responded. He slid his phone across the surface of the island, showing you the dating app he had open. The girls were plentiful, all beautiful and clearly enthusiastic. Bucky’s inbox was full of flirtatious greetings, but you noticed he hadn’t yet responded to a single one.

“Hmm.” You struggled to keep your face neutral. You felt the sinking realization that he must have never thought of you that way. Otherwise, why would he be looking for someone when you were right there?

You couldn't focus properly on the conversation anymore, your mind racing as Bucky moved the topic onto something unrelated.

Fantasising about Bucky had been dangerous. You had spent so much time imagining the day you would finally confess, and he would reciprocate your feelings and you would have the happy relationship you yearned for. Even if you didn’t confess first, you were hoping he would.

Up until now, you had sometimes told yourself that Bucky was just being patient. That he was old-fashioned, so he was taking his time in courting you.

You realized now that you were simply never considered an option.

The next few weeks were torturous. Christmas was fast-approaching, but you were far from being in the festive mood. You had to put on a front with Bucky now, pretend everything was alright and not feel too tempted to ask about the progress of his dating life. Things were tough, and you were feeling unhappier day by day.

You had always known, deep down, that your feelings for him were more than just a crush, and had been for many months. It ached, the feeling of knowing your emotions were not returned.

One horrible part of you wondered why. Were you not sexy enough? Not smart enough? Not charming enough?

Maybe all of the above.

Seeing Bucky nowadays made you ache. You found yourself feeling sad whenever he cracked jokes with you, shared his thoughts with you, when the backs of his hands brushed against yours as you walked side by side.

He would find someone that he actually wanted to be with, to do all that and more. It wasn’t his fault, and you knew he had no idea that you were in so much pain, that he had single handedly eviscerated you.

Tony's Christmas party was a perfect opportunity to drown your sorrows. So cliché. You knew it was a bad idea, but that didn't stop you knocking back drink after drink by the bar, ignoring Natasha's requests to dance. After all, if all the Hollywood rom-coms you had watched were any indication, this was one of the key steps to getting over a guy.

The party was kicking off, and the room was spinning like a ride at a fairground. Your alcohol tolerance had always been low, and now you were paying for your actions. Your skin was burning hot and prickling, and you were struggling to walk straight. Although, this was exactly what you wanted - it was somehow cathartic, purging you of all the pent of frustration inside.

A dark figure appeared in your eye line. Your vision refocused until you realized who it was - your favorite, handsome face was looking very annoyed right now, mouth set in a firm line.

“You’re drunk,” Bucky stated, his voice filled with annoyance.

“Duh.”

“I’m taking you back to your room,” he said, his hand latching around your bicep.

“No,” you said indignantly, jerking away. Your face blanched at the sudden movement. “I don’t feel well."

Bucky rolled his eyes, opting to steer you towards the balcony instead for some fresh air. He shut the French doors behind you, allowing the silent night air to consume you, isolating the two of you from the crowd.

“Sit,” he said, gently helping you down onto a wrought iron bench. “What were you thinking? You know you can’t drink.”

“I know.”

“Something wrong?” Bucky knew that the answer was yes - there was no other reason for you to be drinking unless you were upset or mad.

“I wanted to forget,” you croaked, leaning your head back to get a proper look at him. The sight of him devastated you. He looked so beautiful, so far out of your reach.

“Forget what?”

You stared up at the ink black sky, at the stars. The night air was cool against your burning skin. Everything was quiet, save the sound of his breathing in your ear as he leaned close to you. In that intoxicated moment, you thought you had nothing to lose, forgetting that Bucky was truly your everything.

“How much I love you,” you whispered, tilting your head to look at him through beseeching eyes.

Bucky sucked in a breath of air. His entire stance became rigid at your words. The way you stared at him imploringly confirmed that he hadn’t misheard.

“How long?” He was frowning even as you gave him a trembling, sad smile.

“A long time.”

He raised his hand as if he wanted to touch you, but settled it back down on his thigh. Your face crumpled at his obvious discomfort.

“I don’t know what to say,” he breathed.

Those words alone were enough to make your throat tighten and the needles in your chest multiply ten-fold.

“Tell me you feel the same way,” you said suddenly. It was a plead. You hated how desperate you were in this moment, but you needed him to know how you felt, and you needed to know whether you had a chance. Call it liquid courage, but you felt like you had nothing to lose when you grasped one of his calloused hands in yours.

Bucky was silent for a long time, staring at you with sadness and regret in his eyes. You hated how uncomfortable you must’ve been making him. God, what were you thinking, burdening him with your feelings and putting him in this position? You scolded yourself mentally, feeling nauseous.

Your hand was tight around his, your knuckles white. With every silent second that passed, your fingers loosened, falling limp. His hand was warm, yet you had never felt so cold.

He pulled his hand free, clenching it into a fist.

“I’m sorry,” he said finally. Each word was a knife sinking into your chest. The realization hit you suddenly, thick and sour.

You felt bile rise in your throat. You stood up then, the floor shaking beneath you. You almost collapsed.

“Be careful - ”

“Oh god,” you whispered, squeezing your eyes shut. “I’m sorry. I need to go.”

You darted away with surprising speed, wrenching the doors open and hurrying back inside the room. You ignored the sounds of him calling you as you rushed through the crowd, trying to put one foot steadily in front of you and praying you wouldn’t fall.

Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry.

You held the tears in until you returned to your bedroom, slamming the door shut. You bolted into the en-suite and fell onto your knees in front of the toilet, the acid in your throat finally seeing the surface as you vomited.

Your stomach heaved, emptying yourself of all its contents. But you couldn’t get rid of the horrible, cloying feeling in your gut that came with Bucky’s rejection.

You fell asleep on the bathroom floor, tear tracks on your face and fresh wound in your heart.

You were dreading seeing him the next morning. Thankfully, you arrived in the conference room before he did. The others were there already, gathered around the table. Sam took one look at you and snickered. You were dressed in black, hair in disarray and a pair of large sunglasses on your face.

“Someone had a bit too much fun last night,” he sang.

You grimaced, closing your eyes at the way his voice boomed in your overly sensitive ears. “Stop shouting,” you croaked.

Bucky entered a few minutes later. You kept your head down, refusing to look at him or otherwise acknowledge his presence. To the others, your hostility could be passed off as a result of your clear hangover. But the excruciating humiliation of your confession to him hung between the two of you, making you squirm in your seat.

You didn’t speak for the rest of the meeting, keeping your sunglasses on and staring stoically at Steve as he delivered the mission briefing. As soon as he dismissed the team, you jogged out of the room, but was accosted by Bucky in the hallway.

“Can we talk?” he asked loudly.

You didn’t want to make a scene. You put a fake smile on.

“Sure.” Your eyes were still swollen behind your dark shades as you tried not to let the sight of him bring out any more tears.

He led you into an empty room a few doors down. His face was set like stone, only the slightest crease in his forehead hinting at something akin to distress.

“I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings,” he said carefully.

“It’s okay.” You winced in discomfort, even just the sound of your own voice bringing you pain. You wondered if he had rehearsed a speech, to let you down easy.

“You should never drink that much again.” His voice was sharp, critical.

“I can take care of myself,” you said, taken aback by his tone.

“It’s not worth it,” he said, his attitude easing up. “I’m not worth it. I don’t want you to feel this way because of me."

You felt your shoulders sag. You felt so tired, defeated.

"I can't control the way I feel," you whispered.

Bucky kept a reasonable distance between the two of you, like he was afraid to go near you now that the pair of you were alone. You wished you could read his mind, know what he was thinking.

His next words were chilling. "You’re my friend, and I care a lot about you.”

The emphasis on the word ‘friend’ didn’t go unnoticed. The way he looked at you was orchestrated, pointed. He was letting you know, in no uncertain terms, what he wanted to say. You were almost grateful that he didn’t directly bring up how you had told him you loved him, as if to save you your last shred of dignity.

He stared at you now with such intensity, the meaning clear in the way he looked at you. We are just friends.

He was doing you a favour. Still, your heart shattered. Your hands were shaking. There it was again - that awful, stinging pain of rejection.

“Okay,” you said faintly.

“I'm sorry if I ever made you think that we could be anything more," he began. Tears gathered in the corners of your eyes.

“Let’s not do this,” you interrupted. If he kept speaking, you felt like you might die. You wished the ground would swallow you up.

Bucky licked his lips but remained silent.

“Please..." You hated how your voice shook. "I would really appreciate it if we could just move on. Let’s not bring this up again. It would really help me.”

Bucky folded his arms tightly across his chest, nodding stiffly.

“Okay.”

You backed away from him, grateful your eyes were hidden. You left the room and didn’t look back.

You managed to act normal around Bucky. Well, semi-normal. The rest of the team didn't even seem to notice anything was amiss - you still spoke to Bucky, managed to look at him as if the very sight didn't break your heart, kept a smile on your face.

But that was in front of them. For anything else which wasn't out of necessity or mission-related, you avoided interacting with him. When you woke up in the middle of the night, you no longer plodded into the kitchen, instead staying in your bed, sobbing and staring at the ceiling.

You no longer laughed and joked with him. You turned your attention to the others instead, talking to Steve and Clint and Natasha and whoever else was there, in a desperate attempt to hide the fact that you were trying to keep it together. You wanted to keep your mind distracted.

It was horrible.

Things would not be the same again, at least not for a little while. You needed time to make yourself get over him.

It was easier, when Bucky returned to the compound one night with a blonde on his arm. She was giggling and clinging onto him, and your heart sank when they stumbled into the elevator just as you were making your way to your floor.

You couldn't have been more shocked at the sight of them. Bucky had red prints all over his cheeks, and her lipstick was smeared. The smell of alcohol was in the air.

"You're not supposed to have civilians in here," was the only thing you managed to say, shock infiltrating your system. The blonde giggled.

"Oops."

Bucky only shrugged, his hand slipping into hers as the elevator rose. Your heart clenched.

He was doing this on purpose. He wanted to show you that he had no interest in you, leave you without any doubts. You didn’t know that Bucky had it in him, to be so cruel. If you weren't trying to hold back your tears, you would've almost felt impressed by his antics. The worst thing was, you truly understood why he was doing this.

You think you may have hated him in that moment.

The elevator doors dinged open, and you stumbled out. Tears began prickling in your eyes, and you were sure Bucky could see.

You didn't say anything as you marched to your room, the elevator doors sliding shut.

You had always been good at pretending. Pretending you were happy when you weren't, pretending you were calm when you were furious, pretending you knew the answer when you didn't.

Bucky saw past a lot of that. He could tell when you were lying, could see when you were holding back. He read you like an open book.

He was important to you, and still would be even if he had rejected your confession and rubbed the presence of another girl in your face. You told yourself that it was a good thing - he was performing a service, encouraging you to move on. Besides, he didn't owe you a thing. He could do whatever he wanted with anyone else.

You couldn't lie convincingly to yourself.

Bucky's birthday rolled around all too quickly. You had it marked in your calendar, though you would've remembered even without the reminder.

Despite your conflicted feelings, you wanted to get him a gift. You had planned the perfect one months ago and had enlisted Bruce's help in finding it. You still wanted to see the look on his face when he opened it.

Bucky roamed the hallways on your floor the morning of his birthday, frowning slightly when your bedroom door opened, Bruce appearing in the frame. He caught a glimpse of where you were perched on your bed, face flushed in mild excitement.

Bucky gave Bruce a smile which may have looked more like a grimace, the latter giving him a polite nod before continuing on. Your door swung inwards, but Bucky stuck a hand between it and the frame, poking his head through.

"What's that all about?" he asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

You shuffled something behind your back. You hadn't spoken to Bucky much as of late, barely acknowledging any of the awkward encounters that had occurred in the past months, instead choosing to face him with a professional-politeness.

"Nothing," you said, not particularly aware of what it would look like to have Bruce emerge from your bedroom.

"Is something going on between you two?" he asked directly. He gave a laugh void of humor, the sound escaping him in a huff. "Do you have a thing for emotionally damaged men?" He gestured to himself with his vibranium arm.

The small smile on your lips fell. Anger simmered in your eyes.

How could he? How could he reduce his feelings for you to nothing and stomp on them like it was trash?

You stood and marched towards him, a wave of fury overcoming you, thrusting a wrapped parcel into his hands.

"He helped me get your present, actually. Happy birthday," you spat, watching as Bucky's mouth fell open silently. You pushed past him, unable to look him in the eyes, feeling your stomach twist.

Bucky remained rooted to the spot, fiddling with the wrapping paper hesitantly before he ripped it open.

It was a first edition copy of 'The Grapes of Wrath', excellent condition. The subject of Bucky's favorite books came up after your first encounter when you saw him reading 'The Hobbit'.

"Is it about angry grapes?" you had asked, confused when Bucky laughed. He promised he would buy it and lend you the book one day.

Bucky's ground his teeth, every cell in his body telling him to go after you. But, for all the reasons he had told himself since the day of your confession, he made himself stay put.

Bucky had missed out on a lot in his life since falling off that train in the Austrian Alps. His whole trajectory had changed, and instead of growing old in his century, he found himself in the 21st, thrust into the modern world and navigating his new life.

He always thought, back in the 40s, that he would meet a nice girl and settle down after the war. He would live in a cozy, tiny home and have three kids, maybe four.

He missed out on that and more - though he had been quite the playboy back in his time, he had never experienced true love. He had never met that one woman he would die for.

Bucky had commented off-hand once on how lucky Steve was to meet Peggy before he went into the ice. Steve had reminisced on that with a bittersweet smile, before telling him, you’ll find your Peggy.

Falling in love with you had blindsided him. At first, he viewed you as a friend, a sweet girl who he grew to trust.

Then, he realized that he was slowly being drawn to you, like magnets he couldn’t pull apart. He realized that everything you did was endearing, that you occupied his thought space all the time, that having you around helped him feel comfortable, safe.

You were young, determined, and so innocent. You were somebody who deserved someone as pure and good as you. You weren’t his Peggy - you were something more, so unique and unapologetically you, and he wanted you as his person so badly.

But you deserved someone good. Somebody like Steve, who stood for the best values and only acted for the good of mankind. Not someone morally-gray and jaded like Bucky.

He wanted someone to spend his life with, for sure. If he couldn’t have his idyllic life in the post-war period, then he still wanted to find a partner in this new, still-unfamiliar time.

You fit that profile. He wanted you.

But he would never forgive himself if he weighed you down with his sins.

When you told him you loved him, his heart had broke. He wanted to tell you how much he valued you, how he dreamed of kissing you. He wanted to be a part of your happy ending.

But how much of a happy ending could he really give you? Could he give you children, knowing they would always be in danger from his enemies? Could he give you a wedded, domestic life, when all he knew was how to fight and cause pain?

He had to make his sacrifice for the greater good. Even if he had to crush you, he had to do it.

Someone like Bucky wasn’t supposed to get happy endings. You were, but just not with him.

You couldn't stand to be around him anymore. It was affecting your concentration, your work. It reached a breaking point two weeks after Bucky's birthday, when you requested to speak to Steve privately.

"You want to leave?" he asked, his face appalled.

You nodded curtly. "You’ll still be able to contact me, if you really need me. But I don't think I can stay here anymore."

Steve didn't look as confused at your profession as you expected.

"Is this about Bucky?"

You cringed. God, did he know about everything that happened?

"I don't know what's going on between the two of you," he clarified quickly, "but I can see that something happened. He's not the same, either."

"I'm not in a good place right now," you admitted shamefully. "I'm not saying that this is goodbye forever, Steve. But for my own sanity, I think I need a break."

Steve heaved a sigh. "I know you wouldn't ask unless you really needed it. And you don't need my permission, you know."

"I know," you said, giving him a small smile. "But I just wanted to let you know that I'll be here whenever the team needs it. Emergencies only," you joked. "But for now I think I'll get out of here. Maybe go upstate."

"Have you told him?"

"Don't need to," you said, defensiveness creeping into your voice.

"I think he would like to know."

“We’re not really on speaking terms,” you said bluntly.

Steve clasped a heavy hand on your shoulder. He knew better than to argue. He was sure you’d figure things out for yourself, anyway. “I’ll miss you.”

Now that you had completed the professional courtesy, you decided that you would leave in a few days. You still had some matters to wrap up, and to say goodbye to your teammates. You loved them, and they deserved a proper farewell.

"This isn't goodbye," Nat had said sternly, pulling you into a tight hug. Her voice was quiet and soft in your ear as she whispered, "If you need me, I'll be there."

You squeezed her tight, threatening to tear up. "Thank you."

"Keep your ass out of trouble," Clint had said, winking at you. “And check in with us now and again, yeah?”

Sam was clearly unhappy about everything. And he definitely noticed that you had picked a day to make your announcement when Bucky was conveniently away from the compound.

"Am I gonna see you again?" he asked, raising his eyebrows after you'd embraced.

"Couldn't get rid of me if you tried," you promised, punching his arm.

You retired to your bedroom that night, sure that Bucky would hear the news later after he came back. You kept your phone switched off and door locked for the rest of the evening, making sure the your belongings were packed.

Just past midnight, you crept out of your room, duffel bag over your shoulder. You made your way through the compound, down the floors into the underground garage. Bucky's motorbike wasn't there - he still hadn't returned.

You were grateful. You climbed into your car, and tossed your belongings in the back. You had to stop thinking about him - if you let yourself do it for too long, you were afraid you wouldn’t be able to go.

With a heavy heart, you left this chapter of your life behind.

Your phone rang for days afterwards. Missed calls, voicemails left unanswered, texts left unread.

You couldn't bear to face him. If you pretended he didn't exist, maybe it would ease the pain.

You didn't know where you were driving to. You simply knew you had to get as far away as possible, clear your head. You were at a crossroads, and you needed to pull yourself together, but for now you would allow yourself to wallow.

You had been spending each night in a different motel. Wake up, drive, sleep. Wake up, drive, sleep. You wanted to put as much distance between yourself and Bucky Barnes as possible.

You had no idea how you had gotten everything so wrong. Did you really misinterpret the signals? Was every intimate moment between the two of you simply platonic?

You didn't want to feel so beat up over a guy, but he wasn't just any guy. He was the first man you had ever loved.

Life was funny, sometimes. You supposed that you couldn't always expect happy endings.

You kicked open the door of the latest motel, a bag of takeout in your hands. You noticed the dark, shadowy figure on your bed in an instant, your hand sliding to the dagger sheathed in your belt on reflex. Before your brain even had time to catch up with what you were seeing, you had aimed and launched it, shocked when a familiar voice rang out.

"Calm down, tiger," he rasped. The bedside light flicked on, and Bucky was suddenly there, twirling your dagger between his fingers. He tossed it to the side, letting it land on the carpet with a soft thud.

A week had passed since you last saw him. Seeing him sent an electrifying jolt straight through your core.

"What are you doing here?" you asked. You were shocked, but your first thought was that something terrible had happened. "Is it the team? Are they in danger?"

Bucky looked irate, his jaw clenching and unclenching. His hands were knotted together, worry hiding beneath his anger.

"I've been calling you for days. You left without saying goodbye. Hell, you left without saying anything." His voice was gruff and accusatory.

That gave you the answer you needed. The team were fine, and he was simply here to rant. You felt the initial shock of his appearance wear off.

He stood up and stepped towards you, and that was when you noticed the state he was in. His usually close shaven beard was slightly unkempt, and his eyes were bloodshot. He looked worn out.

"Yeah," you retorted, "I kind of did that on purpose."

"Why?" His voice was a whisper. "Why would you do that?"

You were exasperated. You did not envision yourself having to explain your decisions to him. His appearance both delighted and depressed you. It was tiring, having these two sides battle each other whenever you saw him. Your love for him versus his heavy rejection.

"I can't be around you anymore," you admitted, your voice tight. "I thought I could, but I can't."

"Why the hell not?" he pressed stubbornly.

"You know why!" you cried out. "Why are you doing this to me, Bucky? I told you I loved you and, okay, you don't love me. Fair enough," you said, frustrated. "But to go out of your way to hurt me? Remind me that I'm nothing more than a friend? Bring other girls back to the compound so you can fuck them?"

Bucky flinched. "I never - "

"No!" you shouted, cutting him off. "You don't get to do this, Bucky." You felt wetness on your cheeks, and realized you were crying. It only made you more exasperated. "You don't get to tear my heart out of my chest and come here when I've been trying to get away from you."

He stormed up to you, hands reaching for you, but you batted him away.

"Don't!" Your hand hit his chest, barely moving him an inch. "Just stop! Please!" Your voice broke, and you shook with tears. The dam had broke, and seeing him here was just too much.

"Please don't cry," he pleaded, his face anguished.

"What are you doing here?" you asked, your voice breaking. "What do you want from me?"

Bucky looked so upset, taking another step forward, but you walked backwards until you hit the door.

"You don't want me," you exclaimed through your tears. You needed him to understand how much pain you were in just by seeing him. "You can't be here, Bucky. I can't look at you and remember how you just don't love me back."

Bucky pulled you into his arms, tightening them when you struggled. He was stronger than you - you had no choice but to become a prisoner against his chest. You were crying as you had many times before in his hold, but this time it felt different. Your heart was pounding and you were aching, wanting to melt into him but also aware of the anger and sadness flaring within you. It was torture.

"It hurts too much," you managed to get out through your wailing sobs.

He didn't say anything until you stilled. He let you cry, your tears soaking through his shirt. Your quiet sniffs and hiccups accompanied his words when he finally spoke.

"You weren't supposed to appear in my life," he said, his voice tense. "You weren't supposed to be so wonderful, so comforting. You made me feel so safe."

You didn't say anything, confusion rendering you temporarily speechless.

"I thought I was fine on my own. I've been a soldier all my life, just focusing on fighting everyone else's battles. And then I met you."

You had no idea where this was going as Bucky's arms seemed to tighten all the more around you.

"It felt...strange, how I wanted to kiss you. How I wanted you there, next to me, all the time.”

You looked up at Bucky, really taking in his exhausted eyes, his chapped lips, the way he was looking at you now with an exquisite softness.

"I felt like I was doing something wrong. I thought - I don't want to - ruin you," he said. "You are so young and have your whole future ahead of you and I didn't want to bring you down with all of me. My history, my demons, my baggage. And I ended up hurting you."

A spark of hope appeared, wanting to ignite into a flame. You expelled a shaky breath.

"Do you love me?" you asked, your fingers digging into his shoulders as he continued to hold you.

He nodded, his words like velvet. "How could I not? Of course I love you."

Of course, he said. But your insecurities prevailed, and you shook your head.

"You did a good job of hiding it," you said sadly.

Bucky closed his eyes regretfully.

"I know. I don't know what I was thinking. I thought if I could push you away, make you fall out of love with me, you would find someone worthy."

"What makes you think you're not worthy?" you retorted.

"Some days, I feel like no amount of good deeds I do can redeem me," he murmured.

"Bucky," you said slowly. "You're one of the best men I've ever known. Your heart is so kind."

"I'm sorry." He grasped one of your hands, brought it to his lips, kissing the back of your hand. "I'm sorry I hurt you. Part of me thought you would shrug, get over it and find someone else."

Your smile was full of sorrow. "Then you have no idea how much you truly mean to me.

Bucky cupped the side of your face. Seeing you in this state had truly been a wake up call for him. When he found out you had left the compound, all his resolve had crumbled. He realized that he had hurt you so deeply that you couldn’t physically be around him. That was when he knew that the connection between the two of you was too rare to let it slip, when he felt an immense pain at the idea of never seeing you again.

Having you in front of him now was heartbreaking. Your eyes were puffy, and you looked tired and so frail. He loved you, and you were supposed to take care of the people you loved. He swore on his life that he would dedicate himself to showing you what you really meant to him.

"When you asked me what I'm doing here," Bucky said, a hopeful smile on his face, "It's to tell you that I love you, so much. And I'm here to take you home."

You nodded, fresh tears filling your eyes, except this time they were borne from happiness.

"Let's go."

He had already packed your belongings for you, you realized when he released you to hoist your bags over his shoulder, which he had placed by the door. He paused, slipping his hand into his pocket and placing a tiny kid-sized carton into your hand. "Almost forgot. For the journey."

Chocolate milk.

You threw your arms around him, jumping to hook your legs around his hips. He dropped your bags as you kissed him, his hands reaching to support your thighs as he returned it with equal passion.

"This room is paid for," you gasped into his mouth. "Let's go back tomorrow."

He was silent when he walked back to fall onto the bed with you on top of him, his mouth never once leaving yours.

#bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes #bucky x female reader #bucky angst #bucky fic #james buchanan barnes #bucky oneshot #bucky fanfic

[00-jammy-00]

Helloo!!^_^

Could I request a yan who everyone likes? Like nobody would suspect yan!

I guess golden retriever!yan? Maybe darling tries to say something but nobody believes them because they think darling is trying to ruin yan’s reputation ? :33

Btw could I be 🍯 anon?

Yan!GoldenBoy HC’s

Yan!GoldenBoy x GN! Reader

Content warning - Yandere themes, obsession, murder, nsfw mentions, possessiveness, stalking, yan has mood swings, he’s a little bitch.

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Yan!GoldenBoy who was good looking. He could get anything he wanted with a hand through his hair and a flash of his charming pearly whites. He knew he was handsome, he knew people trusted him, he knew all this and he knew it would only make it easier to get you.

Yan!GoldenBoy Who has been obsessed with you for months! He was playing basketball for his school when he saw you for the first time. You were just sitting on the benches, none of that cringe ‘they were reading a book instead of paying attention.’ you were simply watching the game but you looked so radiant while doing it, he couldn’t help but rush over when the game finished.

Yan!GoldenBoy Who tripped over his own feet to chase you down near the exit, he put an arm around your shoulders and flashed that charming smile. He talked to you for a few minutes, making sure to totally not brag about the fact he was the captain of the basketball team, he was really humble you know?

Yan!GoldenBoy Who offered you a car ride home with those gorgeous honey coloured eyes yet was completely shocked when you said no. You said…no? What the fuck does no mean? Who the fuck do you think you are?! You’re lucky he doesn’t fucking kill you!

Yan!GoldenBoy Who just gives you a sweet smile and insists only to clench his jaw when you refuse again. God you’re making this so fucking hard, you’re gorgeous, you’re everything, which means you’re meant to be his for fucks sake.

Yan!GoldenBoy Who vows he’ll never leave you alone. You’re destined to be his, you’re perfect, he’s perfect, so you have to be together, you’re soulmates! He uses a few favours to find out everything about you. Your address, who your family is, where you work, your favourite brand, what your favourite scent is, your zodiac sign, blood type, what hospital you were born at, what cemetery you might want to get buried at. You know, the usual stuff.

Yan!GoldenBoy Who is practically drooling as he jerks himself off to your underwear which he had…borrowed…from your house on his last so called visit. He had cum so much he was having dry orgasms babe! Why do you still not want him?! He could be so good for you!

Yan!GoldenBoy Who sits in his nice car with a pair of binoculars to make sure nothing strange is happening in your room. He’s just keeping you safe, what if someone comes around and tries to steal you?! Don’t worry, your boyfriend is here for you, he’ll protect you. Your boyfriend…god just the idea of being your boyfriend makes him hard all over again.

Yan!GoldenBoy Who doesn’t care if he has to beat the shit out of some people. Your classmate was found with a ripped open chest and a missing heart? That’s terrible babe, but he can be your lab partner now! That one annoying bitch in your class had a bullet between her eyes and her heart missing just like your classmate? How tragic! Don’t worry, you’re safe with him.

Yan!GoldenBoy Who delivers special presents to your door every time a little rat decides to try and ruin his plans. Maybe if he gifts you the hearts from his victims, you’ll let him into yours <3

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Likes, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated, requests are open <3

please do not copy, repost or translate any of my works on other platforms without my permission.

#male yandere #male yandere x reader #male yandere x y/n #male yandere x you #soft yandere #tw yandere #x female reader #x gn reader #yandere aesthetic #yandere male #yandere blog #yandere #x you #yandere x you #yandere x reader #x male reader #x reader #x female y/n #x fem!reader #yandere x female reader #yandere x male darling #yandere x male reader #yandere x gn reader #x gn y/n #x male y/n #x masc reader #x male smut #x male oc

[wordbunch]

how you pamper them when they're stressed/overworked

a/n: requested by the sweet @almost-gabrielle, i hope you enjoy it, and everyone else too - it's going to be GIGANTIC! 😍 be nice, cause I included some characters I haven't written much before (exciting!!!) and if you reblog with a comment or a nice tag... i'll love you forever! 💖 that means a lot, and i'm very grateful for all of it 🥰

ARAGORN: he actually feels like that quite often, but he’s incredibly good at hiding it. Luckily, you’re an expert in reading him like an open book, but oftentimes you need to literally physically drag him away from whatever he is doing (and he might complain as you do so). Aragorn just enjoys sometimes being quiet with you, and it’s usually what he needs when his mind is racing, or his body is overexerted. Or both. You can just lie down together and run your fingers slowly through his hair, and that will help him forget his worries at least for a little while. Secretly he is an absolute sucker for sweet, romantic confessions of love and affection, and he will melt if you whisper sweet nothings in his ear.

LEGOLAS: something has to be extremely serious for him to feel that way, because his limits are very high; but in those moments he just wants to get away from everything as soon as possible and run to you, because with you the rest of the world just fades away. He enjoys an outing in nature, far away from real life, especially if the two of you find a nice lake or river to go for a swim in, and eventually act like a couple of children splashing and chasing each other. If that doesn’t help, he likes to sit in front of you and let you braid his hair as he talks about whatever is on his mind, and it also helps him physically relax to have you sitting behind and so close to him.

BOROMIR: this man will most likely push himself to his absolute limits, because he shoulders too much responsibility and feels pressured constantly to be on top of things. However, it’s easy to notice when he becomes a bit more irritable at one point, and then you know it’s time to talk him into taking at least a little break. That can be a slippery slope, because once he gets you alone for 5 minutes, it can very easily turn into 15 hours, and he would never finish anything. But on some days it’s just necessary - you sweet talk him into a cuddle session, during which he accidentally falls asleep with his head over your heart, or you make some tea with love as the special ingredient – and tell him that! He’s going to melt and finally, gratefully accept that his partner wants to look after him.

FARAMIR: much like his brother, he will probably suffer in silence, but you can’t miss his tired sighs every now and then, and the way he shuts his eyes and rubs his temples. If you hug him from behind, he will melt into your touch and lean onto you so much that you will almost topple over, but that will also make him admit to himself that he really needs a break. Run him a nice, hot bath complete with fragrant ingredients, and candles lit around it,  and he will be forever grateful. If you don’t join immediately, he will very sweetly ask you to come with him because 'oh the bath is so big and so lonely' without one more person in it. 

ÉOMER: this hardworking man is actually quite in touch with how he feels, both physically and emotionally, and he knows when things are becoming too much and he needs to step away for his own good. It is not unusual for him to go search for you and suggest that the two of you do something away from everyday life. Many times he doesn’t even suggest anything, he just follows behind you whatever you’re doing - taking a walk and admiring some trees in bloom? He’s right there holding your hand. Sitting on a balcony and reading? He will lay his head on your lap and ask you to read to him. And he is content just being present with you.

SAM: he gets both overworked and stressed quite often, poor thing. Make him something to eat and bring it outside while he’s working in the garden, and just have a spontaneous mini-picnic in the backyard. Although he’s very hardworking and persistent, over time he’s learned to accept your help and pampering, and he really really enjoys it too. If he is under mental stress, maybe you’ll need to push him a little bit to tell you what is on his mind, but once he does, he will gladly listen to your advice or any help you can give him. 

FRODO: baby boy is in his head a lot and oftentimes he will accidentally create things to worry about, and he will just zone out. if he has a faraway look in his eyes, while doing nothing in particular, you can accurately guess what is up. He likes to feel useful, and he will gratefully accept if you ask him to help you with whatever you’re doing - it gives him an excuse to be kind and helpful, but also spend time with his favorite person. Especially if you’re organizing/re-organizing something, he will enjoy doing it with you, or cooking - he might not be the best at it, but he delights in giving you a hand, and he likes to learn and improve new skills anyway. 

MERRY: he is actually much more of an overthinker than he seems to be on the outside, so stress sometimes just generates outta nowhere! Also he isn’t the biggest fan of physical labor out there, but he is a little bit of a show-off when it comes to you, and he will go above and beyond when helping you with something or doing something for you, until he can barely stand. Afterwards he will take pride in the fact that you had to force him to stop whatever he was doing, but he was simply being so very nice to his favorite person! Something he loves to do to unwind in those moments is just come up with random stories with you, the two of you taking turns making up characters and events. He is a little bit of a baby and he will just take your hand wordlessly and put it in his hair, because it feels nice when you run your fingers through it.

PIPPIN: he will either be stressing over very small, irrelevant things, or something absolutely terrible, no in-between. If it’s something small, he has no problem rambling about it to you, and that usually helps him sort things out; but if it’s something serious, he will grow quiet. The best thing you can do for him in those moments is distract him with a silly idea like “let’s go for a walk and find as many kinds of blue flowers as we can” or just straight up make him laugh - it’s the best medicine. He wouldn’t ask you directly to do it, but he’d love it if you could just hold him or cuddle him for a bit (he’s the little spoon of course).

BILBO: oh he will get worked up over a whole bunch of random things; and when he is working on something, he goes all in (and then has a random episode of doing absolutely nothing), so you need to be the one who grounds him in reality sometimes. Just don’t startle him when approaching him quietly. He is very responsive to your touch and he will just lean into you as soon as you’re near, almost forgetting about everything else. He adores it when you hold his face in your hands and he will look at you as if hypnotized while you comfortingly reassure him that everything will be alright and that he doesn’t have to do anything alone as long as you’re around.

FÍLI: he is very big on “strong protective independent dwarf” and sometimes he doesn’t fully allow himself to rest properly, or to process some things that are bothering him on the inside. However, at one point it will all have to culminate, and then his first instinct is to shut himself off. A guaranteed way to get through to him is to kiss him senselessly wherever you can reach and it makes him subconsciously relax almost immediately. He will kiss you back passionately which helps him eliminate some of the tension he’s feeling. Additionally, he will never ever say no to receiving a nice little massage from you. 

KÍLI: oh he is quite proud of himself if he ends up overworking himself for you, as if it gives him bonus partner points. You will gently scold him for pushing himself too far, and then he will pout, but you know he still doesn’t regret it. Then he himself will drag you away for a cuddle session - he chose that as his reward for being the very best partner in all of Middle-earth - but you don’t have to exclusively cuddle. He finds it very relaxing if you sing something quietly to him and he will look up at you with shining eyes.

✨ taglist my beloved ✨ @lotrnonsense​​​​​​ @starlady66​​​​​​ @queenmeriadoc​​ @entishramblings ​​​​​​ @thesolarangel ​​​​​​ @silversword7000 @friendofthefellowshipsnerdblog @averys-place

@valkyriepirate @emmaarenstarr @noldorinpainter @asianbutnotjapanese @adamgetawaydriver @fenharel-enaste @ironmandeficiency      @starryeyedrogue @dinofromspac3  @wisheduponastar @lady-of-imladris @frodo-cinnamonroll @unethicallypleistocene @deadlymistletoe @suncran @high-sea-husbands @asianbutnoteastasian @aidansloth @sweetpea-thoughts

#Lotr x reader #lord of the rings x reader #lord of the rings fanfiction #lord of the rings imagine #lotr imagine #lotr fanfiction #aragorn x reader #legolas x reader #fili x reader #kili x reader #boromir x reader #faramir x reader #frodo x reader #samwise gamgee x reader #merry brandybuck x reader #pippin took x reader #bilbo x reader #bilbo baggins x reader #aragorn imagine #legolas imagine #boromir imagine #from my pocketses

[rerefundslocals]

Slow motion [jjk]

Summary: you only wish to love jungkook for as long as the world allows you to.

>>pairing: idol!jungkook x fem!reader

>>trope: exes to lovers

>>genre: angst,smut,fluff.

>>word count: I'll add later

>>warnings/tags: feelings discussed, arguments, shyreader, Dom!jungkook, sub!reader, unprotected sex, choking kink, backshots, dirty talk,petnames, spit kink, aftercare <3(lmk if I missed anything)

a/n- a recommended song is slow motion by Don toliver ft. Wizkid. Show love through likes, reblogs,comments and asks. Keeps authors very motivated<3 enjoy!! + this is not proofread and a repost.

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"Did anyone see you?" You sigh out as you walk towards the door of your apartment.

Jungkook, by the door undresses as he removes his Nike puffer jacket and ridding himself of his shoes as well ; left in his shirt and sweatpants, he only walks closer to you, grabbing your hand as he leads you to your couch ignoring your question completely.

"I had a long day, skip the questions,___." He groans out as he lays back on your pink velvet sofa,pulling you on his lap.

You simultaneously lay your head on his chest carefully as you hear his heart softly beat in his chest. "I just wanted to know." You mumble.

"It's okay. Did you eat?" He asks, hands rubbing the small of your back as he makes his way to your ass, rubbing at the flesh, clothed by your flowy dress.

You only sigh as you trace the patterns on his tattooed arm, reeling in the silence and the comfort of your ex-boyfriends arms.

It wasn't always so sullen between you two. You always believed that you'd be more happy if you were able to love Jungkook freely without having to sign heaps of papers and worry about publicity.

But that was not the reality of this relationship. Though you did try to get through that phase, it only teared down your relationship. Having to book private dates and seeing each other atleast two times every month. Three if you were lucky.

It was bad enough that your relationship went public, and when it did, it was your worst nightmare having spent two years of your relationship with Jungkook private and signing nda's .

From the Twitter comments and Jungkook having to face the worst times during his lives. You had decided to end things with him after three years of bliss. He took it hard and so did you.

Days turned into Weeks, and weeks turned into months ; that's when Jungkook decided that despite being broken up, he will find every way to meet with you, and kiss you, touch you, tell you he loves you as if you two were still together.

That's what leads you here, on his warm lap, soaking in the little time you had left as the company would be livid if they knew Jungkook left work to go straight to you.

He wonders why you have yet to answer his question, but he doesn't let it bother him. You probably had a long day too.

"Baby, are you hungry yet?" He finally asks. Head leaning down to get a better view of your face.

Feeling wary and skeptical, you look up at him, finally responding to him. "I'm really trying to be nice...but Kook, you should be gone right now. I'm scared you'll get in trouble." You pick at your nails, head hanging low.

He immediately responds. And it is not in a nice tone. "You and this fucking worrying of yours. If I wanted to be gone I would be right now." He scoffs out. Ever so gently removing you off his lap, warm hands ridding themselves of your ass.

"If you want me gone. I'll do just that."

You're quick to scramble to your feet, fluffy socks meeting your wooden floor as you follow him to your door.

"Kook, wait- I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that..but I'm just scared okay? Please understand that." You softly say.

Jungkook turns to look at you, eyes showing the clear emotion of sadness. Your heart clenches at the sight of a sad Jungkook and you reach your hand into his, engulfing in the warmth of his bigger limb.

"You're the reason we never worked out. You know that?" He asks, his hand tightly engulfed in yours.

Your brows furrow as you frown at him, "w-what do you mean,Kook? I broke us up because it was best for you. I did it for you." He chuckles, and it's not jolly or happy.

"You did it for me? Are you fucking crazy? I put my foot in this relationship when everything was going haywire,___. I tried and tried to fight for this. I am sorry that you're too weak to render that in your brain. But I love you. I do love you and I wish you weren't so selfish all the time ; because you know deep down in your heart that you want this. You love me like I love you. So cut the shit and forget the company and the nda's, the fans too. Just focus on you and I. That's all I want."

"Its harder than that." You mumble shyly and Jungkook loses it completely.

"What's fucking hard?! What is huh?!" He growls, "Tell me,___!" He finishes, chest heaving with anger. Completely unfazed that you flinched at his voice raising higher.

It's a stare off now, as you and him stare intensly in each other's eyes.

It's then you decide, that maybe he is right and that you can trust him, hope that everything would be better..if you just shut the world out, that being the company, his fans and the contracts.

Your eyes soften as you walk closer into jungkooks personal space, your arms wrapping around his waist as you hug him, your hair being mushed by his chest.

Jungkook sighs at the sight, eyes looking down at you as he contemplates hugging you back. "Touch me, please." You plee.

"Will you shut me out when we're done hugging?" He chuckles playfully.

You chuckle along with him, chests vibrating against each other, "I won't. Because I love you and I want this to work no matter what, Kook."

"I love you so much." You whisper once more, as you lift your head, frail fingers going up to caress his cheek.

Now on your tippy toes, you lean up for a kiss that Jungkook responds too, as he latches both your lips in a loving kiss. Lips moving in sync, as his hands come to wrap around your waist, fingers fighting the urge to grab the flesh of your ass.

The kiss becomes more feverish than it was softer as you let out moans into Jungkooks mouth and he groans jn response when you tug at his hair, "mhm - fuck, baby." He let's out as he props off your mouth for a second.

You continue to make out by your door while you peel off Jungkooks clothes, from his shirt to his sweats, leaving him naked in front on you since he did not wear underwear, though you don't question it.

"Hold on, baby." His lips leave yours as he tries to remove your dress from off your body and over your head.

Left with your thong, you lean down to pull it off and kick it somewhere in the kitchen.

With so much frustration to let out, Jungkook wastes no time lifting you up as you curl your legs around his waist, leading you both to your bedroom.

It's everything jungkook has seen before. From the Polaroids of you with family and friends hanging on the wall and the pastel pink wallpaper on your walls.

"Get on the bed, your back facing me and arch your back." The tone is instructive more than it is demanding and it radiates pleasure onto you, making you unbelievably wet for him. So you do comply and do just as he says.

Foreplay has never been one for yours and Jungkooks sex life, As much as Jungkook loves getting his dick sucked and you loving the pleasure from getting eaten out, you both just love to feel each other and be binded as one with no time to waste.

He wants to feel you squeeze around him and he wants to fill you up so good. Maybe after that would he eat you out and same with sucking him off.

Now he lines up with your hole, slowly inserting thr tip of his hard cock, precum leaking.

You both audibly moan in sync when he fully enters, slow and teasing thrusts at first.

You whine pitifully as you shake your ass as to pry Jungkook to move faster."Jungkook please."

"I know,baby, I know." He teases with a sly smirk that you can't really see from behind.

He complies with you, moving faster as the squelching sounds of your wetness and his pre cum fill the room.

Along with your moans and jungkooks low but raspy moans that have you curling your toes, you become a leaking faucet, getting tighter around his cock.

"Mm- fuck! You're so tight, baby." Jungkook moans, "keep squeezing my cock, baby."

It's a sloppy mess now as your moans sound like cries now, high pitched, whiny much and loud. Very loud.

Your poor neighbors :(

You squeeze tighter around him when he slaps your ass quite a few times, groping at the flesh when he let's go. Jungkook quietly groans at the tight fit. "Wan' me to squeeze you just like that?" You coyly remind him.

"Hmh, just like that, baby." He replies, a breath of relief is what it sounds like.

You feel your high approaching when your stomach coils tighter and tighter and tears pool at your eyes, one leaking from your left eye and onto your cheek.

What a sight.

Jungkook pulls you with your hair and onto his chest, his thrusts sloppier at this new angle.

"So pretty." He presses a kiss onto your cheek. He forces your mouth open with his free hand that isn't gripping your right ass cheek, leaning forward to spit a glob of saliva into your mouth.

"You gonna be a good girl and swallow? Hmm?"

You only swallow in response, feeling the warm spit go down your throat. You like it, quite tasty to you, everything about him is tasty.

"Fuck- I-im cumming, Kook!" You exclaim, feeling your knees go weak.

"That's it, baby. Soak my dick."

And on cue, you cum undone on his cock, jungkook moaning along with you as he spills into your hole.

The sticky white substance, thick and messy in your tiny hole.

You fall limply onto the bed when Jungkook let's go of your hair, and he gets up to get a warm cloth to clean you up.

"You Okay, baby?" He questions when he's done wiping you clean and covering you up.

You lazily nod at him, smile playing on your lips. "You did not say you loved me back, earlier on."You playfully tease.

Jungkook chuckles in response, running his hands through his hair for the first time today.

"Wellll," He drags, "you didn't exactly give me that chance since you kissed me crazy."

"I'm giving you a chance now. And come lay with me!" You whine.

"Okayyy, fine woman! I love you so so much." He hops in the bed beside you, pulling you close to his chest immediately. Desperate to feel you on him. "That's what I like to hear." You kiss his chest and he kisses your head above you too.

"I love you,too."

#bts smut #bts #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #bts army #jungkook x you #bts fanfic #jungkook #smut #jungkook angst #jungkook imagines #jungkook drabble #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook oneshot #jungkook scenarios #jungkook x y/n #jungkook imagine #btswritersclub #bangtan net #bangtangsonyeondan #bangtan

[fangirl-dot-com]

Chapter 12 - So This Is Christmas (WAR IS OVER)

Guys I finally did it! This fic is officially over 10k words and this is my Christmas gift to you all! So please, sit back - relax - and enjoy this Christmas Special!

Like always comments, questions, concerns, reblogs, and likes are appreciated! Love you all &lt;3

TAG LIST IS CLOSED

You looked around the paddock as everyone packed away the motor homes. You had only been in this Formula 1 life for less than a month, but you wouldn’t change it for the world. A sigh escaped your lips as you peered into the Red Bull garage. Mechanics, engineers, and strategists alike were all celebrating a season well done. You guessed that after this they were all ready to head back to their homes to see their families and get ready for the winter break. 

You really wondered what that was going to be like: to go home and have someone waiting for you. Your hands gripped your backpack a little tighter as you thought about your empty and small apartment back in Nice. It would probably greet you with that damp air that seemed to cling to the walls and another drippy faucet. Your heart ached at the thought. 

You slowly walked back inside, trying to find Max so that you could say goodbye until you’d see him again at pre-season testing. Your eyes found him and Kelly quietly talking in the back. Not wanting to interrupt them, you quickly averted your gaze to someone else. Mitch’s brown eyes caught your attention and you made your way over to her. 

“Hi Mitch,” you smiled, hands still gripping your backpack straps. 

Her eyebrows raised in confusion, “I thought you left already?” 

You looked down, almost in embarrassment. “I think I just don’t want to leave without saying goodbye.” Your hand gestured to the couple in the corner, who were now joined by Christian. 

“Ah, well I would have been sad if you didn’t say goodbye to me.” 

Your face lit up at the sight of her open arms. As you stepped in, the tenseness in your body practically melted away. You sighed as Mitch squeezed you a little tighter. 

“Do you have any fun plans for the break?” she mumbled into your hair before stepping away. You grimaced at the thought of having no plans. 

“Uh, I think I’m going to finish this show I’ve been binging,” you said, cringing at your own uncertainty. Because in reality, you really had no clue what you were going to do.

Mitch’s eyebrows pinched. She opened her mouth to say something, but was interrupted by Christian, Max, and Kelly joining your little group. The corners of your mouth tilted up by their arrival. 

Christian had an amused look on his face. 

Mitch turned to the boss. “What has you so jolly?” 

He let out a laugh before speaking, “Gerri and I are taking a cruise for Christmas to get out of the colder weather that is about to hit.” He shivered dramatically, making you laugh. 

“Ah,” she turned to Max and Kelly. “Do you two have anything fun planned for the break?” 

Kelly spoke up first, “We’re going to be spending it with Max in Monaco. Penelope really likes the area and I think it would be nice to have everyone there.” 

Max followed, “My sister and mom are planning to come over for Christmas evening. Her kids are super cute.” 

“I think P is just happy to celebrate Christmas and find a tree as soon as possible. I’m glad she’s not scared of Santa like she was last year,” Kelly confessed. 

As you listened, you heart squeezed just a bit more. What you would give to decorate a tree for the first time ever or stay up late trying to catch the big man in the red suit. Kelly then turned to Mitch. 

“What do you have planned?” 

Mitch shot you a glance before responding, “I’m going up to my parents to spend it with my family. Lots of cute nieces and nephews to run around and keep me busy.” 

Christian seemed to finally take notice of you. “And what about you kid?” 

All eyes were now on you. You gulped, honestly not wanting to share your less than mediocre plans for the break. 

“Uh, there was this show I was planning to finish?” Your shoulders raised as the pitch raised in your voice as well, trying to hide your nervousness. 

Kelly’s head cocked to the side, “Anything else?” 

Your eyes widened. Oh how you wished that they would just let it go. You shifted your balance from foot to foot. 

You sighed before confessing, “Nope. That’s it.” 

If you could live in one TikTok sound at this moment, it would be the frantic lyrics from Taylor Swift, “Horrified looks from everyone in the room.” Your cheeks heated at the impending embarrassment that you had found yourself in. 

Wanting to get out of there swiftly (pun-intended), your lips poured out, “So I need to catch a flight and I think my Uber is here. I will see all of you for pre-season testing.” 

You turned to leave, but not without forgetting to also say, “And I hope you all have a good Christmas.” Your feet took you far and quickly away from the four, who were now looking at you with sad eyes. 

Max’s eyes longing gazed at your fleeing figure. He really thought that you two were getting close enough for you to share what you were thinking, and not having to lie about things. Kelly’s hand found the lower area of his back to share some comfort. 

Mitch was the first one to speak up, “I think she’s spending the break alone.” 

“Surely not. Must have private family plans with her parents,” Max quipped, not liking the thought of you being alone. 

Christian had a guilty look on his face, before his hand ran down it. “Vito didn’t want us to tell you,” he trailed off. 

Max’s face spun toward the older Brit. 

“Tell me what?” he almost demanded. 

Mitch shared a look to Christian before spilling, “Y/n’s parents disowned her in the beginning 2019. She’s been living alone since that season of F3 finished later that year.” Her eyes focused on the cold, concrete flooring of the garage. 

A long sigh escaped Max’s lips at the revelation. His fists tightened at his sides. He did the math in his head. Four years. 

You had been alone, by yourself, on your own, for four years. You hadn’t talked about your godfather, so Max didn’t even know if he was still in the picture. You could talk to him about that when you were ready. 

He whispered, “She was fifteen right? Her birthday is later in the year.” 

“Yeah,” Mitch matched his tone. 

Max found Kelly’s eyes, silently communicating all of his thoughts and emotions. He was never good about verbal communications, but eyes are the window to the soul, right? 

A slight nod of her head gave everything that Max needed. 

Mitch broke the silence once again, “I think Arthur has been asking her to join his family for Christmas evening. I’ll send him or Charles a text describing the situation so that they can really try to convince her.” 

Christian nodded and spoke, “That sounds like a good plan. Max, I’m guessing you have a plan?” 

Max nodded before stepping away from the group, heading in the direction where you took off. Kelly stayed behind, bringing out her phone with the intent of making a few calls. 

“We’ll take care of her,” she assured the strategist and team principal. 

Mitch smiled in the direction that Max had stomped towards. “I wouldn’t doubt it.” 

You, who had missed everything, were currently waiting at the entrance for your Uber. Your eyes glanced around, looking for the correct car. Your body bounced with anxiety as your knuckles hand now turned white with how hard they were gripping the straps. 

“Kid!” a familiar voice called out, causing you to whip around and bump right into the source. Big hands caught you from falling off the kerb. Your head lifted and was met with the worried face of one Max Verstappen. 

“Uh, hi?” you questioned. 

Max, probably planning for this to be said differently but didn’t want to beat around the bush, blurted out, “Spend the break and Christmas with me.” 

Your eyes looked for malice in his, but came up empty. However, you were shocked. 

“What?” you breathed out, very confused. 

Max inhaled and exhaled rather sharply. Keeping his hands on your shoulders, he positioned you back up on the sidewalk, away from the parking area. In your head, you were only thinking of how you might miss your Uber and flight if Max kept you here. 

“Y/n,” uh-oh, he used your legal name, “Kelly and I would love it if you spent the first bit of break with us and Christmas.” 

Your ears must have been deceiving you, or you needed hearing aids after being around the formula cars for the majority of your life, because there was no way that Max had just asked you to spend the first bit of break, let alone Christmas, with him and Kelly. 

You scoffed before looking away and muttering, “Very funny Max. I get that you have an amazing family to do nice things with, but some of us don’t have that luxury. Now if you’ll excuse me,” you all but ripped yourself out of his grasp, “I have an Uber to get into and a flight back to Nice.” 

You stepped away, but were stopped by someone’s hand grabbing your backpack. You sighed rather harshly, arms dropping to your sides, before speaking, “Max, let go of my backpack.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about geitje.” If you had looked behind you, you would have seen a smirk on his face. 

“You know I finally looked up that word, and I don’t think that’s the correct word for kid.” 

Max let out a playful scoff. “Yes it is. It’s my language after all.” 

You rolled your eyes, “You are literally calling me a baby goat.” Your arms crossed your chest. You were still annoyed but weren’t trying to get away as you had been. Max pulled you backward and into a hug. His hand was placed on the top of your head, lightly ruffling your hair. 

His chest vibrated as he hummed. “I know exactly what I am doing. Stubborn and cute like one.” 

You let yourself melt into his hold for just a minute as you thought over the offer. Honestly, by now it was a no-brainer. Spend the break alone and cold, or get over yourself and spend it in a warm house surrounded by people who seemed to love you regardless of your past. 

Max felt the moment that you had accepted, since your body went lax in his hold. His smile grew larger at the thought of you giving in. However, you mind was still mulling over one fact. A large sigh escaped your lips. 

“What’s wrong?” 

Your cheeks heated once again before turning to bury your face in Max’s chest as to hide from the Dutchman. 

“I don’t know how.” 

Max was getting confused. “How do to what Kleintje?”

“How to celebrate Christmas. Never done it before,” you stumbled over your words. 

Max was quick with a solution. “P turned four this year, and I think she can actually grasp what Christmas really is. You can learn right along with her, nothing to be embarrassed about.” 

“And I don’t have any presents or anything to give.” 

“There’s nothing wrong with that. Christmas isn’t all about giving gifts.” 

You huffed. “But I want to.” Your eyes were suddenly welling up with tears, making Max panic a bit. 

He quickly spoke, “Then we can go shopping. Maybe Lando can join. If it’s important to you, then we can do whatever you’d like.” 

You looked up into blue eyes. “We can stay up for Santa?” 

Gosh, you were truly melting this man’s heart. His eyes softened as he looked back into yours. His head dipped in a small nod. 

“Yes Kid. We can stay up for Santa. Now let’s go, AirMax awaits.” 

Your Uber was long forgotten as you sat in the nice plush seat of Max’s private jet. Your eyes sparkled with a child-like wonder as you stared around. Kelly and Max just enjoyed watching you look around with wide and tired eyes. 

You may be 20, but that doesn’t mean that you’re done maturing in life. Max definitely was still trying to heal his inner-child at 26, but he had a whole support system behind him. Yes, his dad wasn’t the best, but he couldn’t image growing up without him. Jos may have been an asshole, but he helped shape Max into what he was today. 

From what he and Kelly now knew, you had had no one. You had offhandedly told Max that you rarely had friends growing up. He and Christian really thought you may have been joking. But after tonight, Max swore to never joke about that again. He knew that you were going to be good friends with some of the grid. Secretly he was hoping that Lando would be one of them. 

He was a good kid in Max’s eyes. And it was a plus that he also lived in Monaco as well. People need friends and family to thrive and flourish, and you had done your waiting. 

Max also knew that if your parents ever showed up to anything, now that you had made it to Formula 1, he would personally cuss them out and then have them banned from every single paddock for the rest of their lives. 

His eyes found you, desperately fighting off sleep. His lips curled up into a smile as you finally gave in and closed your eyes. You were all curled up in with your Dior blanket that you carried everywhere with you - the same one you had in Vegas.

Max turned his head to see that Kelly was also looking at you with a warm smile on her face, eyes full of love. 

Kelly’s head leaned near his as they both watched you cuddle your beloved blanket a bit more. 

“She looks much younger,” Kelly whispered, not wanting to wake you up. 

Max leaned over as well, “Yeah, makes you realized why everyone calls her kid.” 

A soft laugh came out of Kelly’s lips. 

Max continued, “Thank you for being fine with her coming. I know this wasn’t in our plans.” 

Kelly quickly hushed him, her eyes glancing at him before looking back on your sleeping figure, “I think it was a wonderful idea for her to join. We should have asked sooner.” A sad smile crept on her face. 

He nodded as Kelly made a small home under his arm and against his side. She hummed as she closed her own eyes, wanting to sleep a bit before landing in Monaco. 

Max, however, was preoccupied with texting a group chat that he had made a few minutes before getting on a plane. 

Tax Evaders Max has added Trophy Breaker, Emotional Support Rival, and Kid’s Leclerc to the chat

Mad Max:  I bet you all are wondering why I have gathered you here 

Trophy Breaker:  Um, yes  And what is with the chat name mate? 

Emotional Support Rival  I think he means to imply since Monaco does not make us pay taxes And yes, Max why are we here?  Miss us already? 

Kid’s Leclerc  I’m just wondering who these numbers are other than Charles? 

Mad Max: This is Max Verstappen  The other one is Lando

Trophy Breaker:  Way to give my number away to a total stranger ass-hat Who the heck is Kid’s Leclerc 

Kid’s Leclerc:  This is Arthur 

Trophy Breaker:  Oh that makes more sense 

Emotional Support Rival  Seriously  Emotional Support Rival?  Max I thought we were more than this 

Trophy Breaker:  Yeah – you said you let the whole trophy thing go 

Mad Max:  All of you be quiet 

Kid’s Leclerc:  I never said anything

Mad Max:  As I was saying… I’m guessing maybe Arthur knew  But Y/n had planned to spend Christmas alone

Trophy Breaker:  Her parents out of town or something? 

Emotional Support Rival:  About that…

Kid’s Leclerc:  Y/n’s parents aren’t in the picture anymore 

Trophy Breaker:  THEY DIED?! 

Mad Max:  NO  But I’ll make them wish they were  They disowned her when she was 15 

Trophy Breaker:  … I second your statement 

Mad Max:  Back to what I was going to say  Y/n is spending the first part of break with me, Kelly, and P  Arthur, I need you to up your begging game to get her to join you for the last half  Charles you too 

Kid’s Leclerc:  Sir yes sir 

Emotional Support Rival:  On it  If it will help any 

Trophy Breaker:  What am I supposed to do? 

Mad Max:  She really wants to get presents and other things I’m not comfortable letting her walk the outdoor shops by herself somewhere she’s never been too  I was hoping that you’d join us when we go? 

Trophy Breaker:  For sure  It’s the Monaco Center right?  Where you can drive the cars through? 

Mad Max:  That’s the one Kelly has been talking about going for a while to take P  Might as well do the shopping then 

Trophy Breaker:  Sounds good  I’ll let you know when I’m back from Italy 

Kid’s Leclerc:  I will start the begging when we get back 

Emotional Support Rival:  Same here 

Mad Max:  Thanks guys  I’m hoping she’ll have a good time  First real Christmas and all 

Trophy Breaker:  Awe, Max does have a heart 

Emotional Support Rival:  He really said  Grinch? Never heard of him  I’m Max Verstappen 

Kid’s Leclerc:  I do not group myself with them sir 

Emotional Support Rival:  Thur is just trying to get on his good side 

Trophy Breaker:  And why would that be? 

Kid’s Leclerc:  No comment 

Mad Max:  Plane is about to land and I have to wake Miss Whiny up from her nap 

Kid’s Leclerc:  Just lightly nudge her shoulder  Works wonders and she shouldn’t complain too terrible 

Trophy Breaker:  Oooohhhh I get it now  Little Leclerc is smooth 

Kid’s Leclerc:  Goodbye 

Max let out a chuckle before taking his arm from around Kelly, who had actually fallen asleep as well. He stood up and lifted his arms above his head to stretch. It only took him three steps to reach you, since the main cabin wasn’t big to begin with. 

Heeding Arthur’s advice, he gently nudged your shoulder a few times. You blinked, multiple times, trying to get the fuzziness to go away.

Like Arthur had said, there was no whining that joined your waking up. Your hands came up to rub your face and eyes, trying to rid the evidence of sleep. 

“How long was I out for?” you questioned, voice deeper and quieter. 

Max’s hand found your shoulder and gently rubbed it. “We’re actually about to land.” Your eyes widened as you quickly looked out the plane window to view the Monégasque land below. 

By now, Kelly had woken up and was now fondly looking at her boyfriend and, well, his kid. She knew that Max wanted to try to be more of a big brother to her, but he honestly couldn’t help it. Deep down, he was trying to fulfill a role that he wished he had had when he was growing up. She quietly raised her phone and took a quick picture to maybe upload later. But for now, she’d let them bask in the excitement of being home. 

Unboarding went much easier than regular flights. The private exits were your favorite since you didn’t have to be stopped by fans or anyone else. By the time the three of you got back to Max’s house, or giant mansion since it was so huge, the sun was just rising: which meant that you were in desperate need of a nap. As far as you knew, Penelope was still with the sitter and Kelly wouldn’t go get her until later that day, to give you three some time to rest and recuperate from the long racing weekend. 

Max led you to one of the apparently multiple guest bedrooms for you to put your stuff in. He explained that you could stay here for the time being unless you found one of the other rooms much better. 

You only laughed and told him that it was enough. Max, in your opinion, looked too nervous for someone who had a multi-million dollar home. 

“Max it’s fine I swear,” you reassured him. 

“I just want you to be comfortable.” He shrugged, looking around at the room, eyes glancing from one corner to the other, trying to find something to change. 

“Max, you could give me an air mattress on the floor and I’d be happy. Besides, this bed is much better than the single bed I have back in Nice,” you muttered the last bit. 

Max seemed to take that as good enough, and left you to your own devices. You quickly sent a text to Arthur, who had begged for you to let him know when you got in safely. You rolled his eyes at his mother hen antics and let out a big yawn. 

You could definitely unpack after you took a quick nap. The moment your head hit the nice pillow, you were out like a light. The sound of laughter woke you up a couple of hours later. You groggily walked out of the more than adequate room, rubbing your eyes to rid them of sleep. Max thankfully invested in a house with a large first floor so that you didn’t have to walk down any stairs. 

Max was the first one to spot you standing a bit awkwardly in the opening frame to the living room. Max stood up from where he was sitting with Kelly and Penelope. Walking over, he brought you into a side hug to lead you to the middle of the room. 

He crouched next to his almost actual kid and gestured to you. 

“P, this is Y/n. She’s going to be staying with us until Christmas.” 

You awkwardly looked at the toddler, not knowing what to do. Penelope leaned closer to Max. 

“Does she like dollies?” 

You let out a little laugh at the question. Max and Kelly smiled at the child and then glanced back at you. 

“Why don’t you ask her?” Kelly gently pushed P towards you. She was clutching a small Barbie to her chest as she got closer to you. 

Her neck bent backwards, looking up at you. She held out her doll for you to take, which you did: not wanting to offend her. 

With a shy smile, Penelope questioned, “Do you want to play dolls with me?” 

“Sure!” You tried to make your voice seem as though you were over the moon to play. “Although, I honestly don’t know how. So, why don’t you show me?” 

Penelope quickly took hold of your hand and all but dragged you down to the floor, where multiple other Barbies lay, waiting to be played with. The toddler quickly started to talk in animated gibberish, trying to explain that your Barbie was trying to take over her Barbie land. You only nodded at the very detailed and elaborate plot that she had come up with. 

Max and Kelly giggled at your wide eyes as you tried to keep up with the small doll in your hands. However, it seemed as though you finally caught on to what was happening as Penelope had gotten more excited as you continued to play. The two adults watch the both of you fondly as your Barbie was finally overtaken by one of P’s bigger dolls that she had. Giggles escaped the toddler’s lips as you dramatically fell over, laying on the ground defeated. Penelope had squirmed over, trying to get you to get back up. 

“P, I think I’m done for.” You put a hand over your eyes, laughing as P tried to tickle you “back to life.” 

“No,” she dragged out the vowel. 

You continued, “It’s a very nice rug. I think I’ll just sleep here tonight.” 

She apparently did not like that as she draped her body over yours. You let out a grunt at the unexpected weight on your chest. You retaliated by tickling her as you sat up from the ground. Her squeals echoed the room. 

Max and Kelly thought it was good to leave the two of you alone for a moment. They made their way to the kitchen to start dinner. As Kelly was getting the ingredients out, Max suddenly remembered something. 

“Hey kid?” 

“Yeah?” you perked up from around P’s head, since she was now sitting in your lap. 

Max looked down at the box of pasta in his hands. “Do you have any food allergies or any dislikes?” 

You thought for a moment before responding, “None that I know of. I’ll pretty much eat anything.” 

“All right.” 

Your attention was once again turned to the little girl that was showing you her multiple toys. You wanted to laugh when you spotted one of the scale models of Max’s car. You quickly held it in your hands to look it over. 

“You race with Maxie?” Penelope asked as she took the car out of your hand. You didn’t mind: since it was her toy to begin with. 

You softly smiled. “Yep, going to be the fastest on the track.” 

Your hands started to softly stroke her hair and part it into three strands. You felt the mini car go up and down your leg. Soft “vrooms” left P’s lips as she trailed the car over your thighs. Your hands overlapped and formed a braid in the thin strands that you held. 

An amazing smell started to waft through the air as dinner was close to being done. 

“You staying, right?” P’s big eyes locked with yours. 

“I’ll be staying until Christmas.” 

Kelly and Max were listening to your conversation while everything simmered for a bit. With drinks in their hands, they leaned against each other to watch the two of you interact. It was crazy how fit you looked together. Honestly, there was a weird resemblance between the two of you, and Max would bet that if the four of you went out and about, people would really question if you were truly just a friend and not family. 

“We wait for Santa together?” 

You looked fondly down at her as you tied the braid off. “We’ll wait for Santa and make cookies and do whatever you want.” 

P took that to heart and nodded multiple times in excitement. 

It wasn’t long until dinner was ready. The meal was truly a simple dish: some type of chicken and pasta. Something plain enough that P would eat, but flavorful enough that the other three could enjoy it as well. 

The table was filled with laughter and engaging conversation. There seemed to be an unspoken rule about not talking of Formula 1 conversation at the dinner table, and you were thankful for that. Your mind wanted to run back to memories of a time where you found yourself at your own dining table, alone. Most of the time, the food was long cold and not very good. 

But, the happiness that you found yourself in right now deterred any thoughts of those times. The conversation of the plan for the next day was brought up by Kelly. 

“I was thinking that we could take a trip to the shopping centers tomorrow,” Kelly mentioned before taking a sip from her wine glass. You, of course, had a plain water in front of you. 

Max nodded, “I think that’s a good idea.”

You stayed silent, mulling it over. You cut into your chicken to take another bite, before realizing that the two adults were waiting for an answer from you. Your cheeks heated as you put your fork down. 

“I’m good with anything honestly. It sounds fun.” 

“I feel like there’s a but coming,” Max pointed out, smirking when Penelope laughed at the second to last word. You couldn’t help but join in with the young girl. 

You shifted in your chair. “I’ve just never been before I guess.” 

Max sent you a soft smile. “I thought of that. What do you think of Lando joining to walk around with you?” 

Your eyes widened at the offer. You…go shopping…alone…with Lando Norris? 

“I think I ran him over in an elevator one time.” 

Max almost choked on his drink at your confession while Kelly could only laugh. 

“Kid, I don’t think he remembers that. It’ll be good for you so that next season, you can start off with a familiar face and friend.” 

Your heart soared at the thought of that and you quickly accepted. 

“Great, I’ll text Lando that we’ll see him in the morning. But knowing him, he’s going to want to start shopping in the afternoon.” 

And Max was correct as Lando practically whined about the idea of shopping in the morning while he was on call. Reluctantly though, the two came to a shared decision of shopping in the early afternoon around 1 pm. 

You were nervous in the car, but Penelope in her car seat was a good distraction. This time, she told you that your Barbie was secretly a mermaid and needed a prince to save her. Sadly, all the Babies she had was the one you were holding, and another female with bright pink hair. You quickly noted to maybe find a prince doll for her while you were out shopping. 

Your mind also raced with questions of what to get Max and Kelly, since they had taken you into their home and treated you as one of their own. Maybe you could ask Lando. 

But what do you get two people who seem to be happy and content with what they have? 

You were brought out of your thoughts at the lack of motion from the car. By now, you finally noticed that Max and Kelly had gotten out of the car, the latter now unbuckling P’s car seat. You quickly leaned over to unbuckle your own seat belt. 

“Almost thought I had to unbuckle you myself,” Max joked as you finally got out of the car, stretching your limbs. 

“Yeah, yeah.” You waved him off while you looked around at the shopping center. Lights, wreaths, and trees were everywhere. Your eyes really sparkled with the reflections of the all the lights. What you didn’t realize is that one Lando Norris had finally joined the group. You only noticed when he decided that it was a good idea to place both hands on your shoulders and yell really loudly. 

What he didn’t know was that you had taken a few self-defense classes in your past. And his face was met with the knuckles of your hand. At least it wasn’t a very hard hit as your hand was covered in a very soft glove. 

Your eyes widened as you let out a gasp as Lando cupped a hand to his nose. 

“I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to,” you frantically looked around, trying to see who had seen the altercation. Thankfully, no one had seemed to notice. However, Max could not stop laughing. You thought that any moment he would fall on the concrete from his wheezing. Kelly just held P with a look of concern. 

Lando waved his hands, “I will not be doing that again.” 

“I truly am sorry.” You grimaced at the sight of a red mark growing on his face. 

“I thought that was hilarious.” Max could only offer, still laughing. Lando only squinted his eyes at him in mock offence. 

“Lanno!” Penelope yelled from her jail of her mom’s arms. Kelly let her down and she bolted to the Brit. Lando caught her and held her. 

“Hey P,” he greeted. P’s head found sanctuary in the crease of his neck. “At least one Verstappen likes me.” 

“She’s not a Verstappen, yet.” 

“I do like you.” 

“I’m not even remotely related.” 

Lando just shook his head. “Max needs to hurry up; you laugh at my pain; you are Max’s kid, so a Verstappen by proxy.” 

You just looked confused and lost at the revelation from Lando. Max let out a nervous giggle as he glanced at Kelly. 

“Are we ready to start shopping?” Max clapped his hands. 

“Y/n, you’re coming with me?” Lando questioned as he put the toddler back down. 

Your hand scratched the back of your head nervously. “I guess so?” You had tried to make it not seem like a question, but you couldn’t help it. 

Max was the one to pick up Penelope this time. “Just text us when you’re done. We will meet up back here.” And with that, he, Kelly, and P turned to leave. Which left you with Lando, who was looking at you with waiting eyes. 

“Uh, lead the way?” 

Lando cocked his head. “You’ve never been? Surely Arthur has taken you.” 

You only shook your head as the two of you turned in the opposite direction. “I’ve only visited Monaco a few times and they were most for promotions or dinners with higher ups. Didn’t have a lot of time to go exploring.” 

“Fair enough. Well, you just tell me when you see a store that you want to visit.” 

“About that, do you have any ideas of what to maybe get Max or Kelly? I know what I want to get for P, but they’re a bit harder to think of gifts for,” you confessed as you walked down the sidewalk. 

Lando hummed as he thought. “I know Max had talked about needing a new steering wheel for his sim. Something about the buttons being sticky from spilling a drink.” 

“It was probably a Red Bull, if we’re being honest here.” That earned you a laugh from the older driver. 

“True. Now Kelly, I really don’t know. Maybe you should text Max?” 

“I’ll think of something, hopefully.” 

And think of something you did. You had barely passed a jewelry store when something caught your eye. 

“Lando, I’m going to go in here for a moment. I need to by a few things.” The Brit nodded and followed you in. You shot him a confused look. 

“Might as well find a present for my mom and sister while we’re here.” 

Thankfully, the two of you went in opposite directions of the store. Your eyes glanced over the glass cases full of valuables. You knew your bank account couldn’t quite handle some of the pieces, but you hoped that the item you were thinking of didn’t cost much. 

As you hovered over the necklaces, a sales rep had come over and asked if you had needed anything. 

“Can I see the locket, please?” 

“Why certainly.” 

The man unlocked the glass case and pulled out the beautiful chain with a heart-shaped pendent on it. The front was plain, probably because many would want to personalize it. You gently took it in your hands to give it a look over. 

“I could customize the front and give you a picture to put it in right?” 

The man quickly told you all the different things that you could do with the small item. To your surprise, the upcharges weren’t much to get it custom. 

You requested for Penelope’s and Max’s birth flowers to be etched into the front. You quickly scrolled through Pinterest and Instagram to find a nice picture each of Max and P. Satisfied with both, you sent them in to the store and was told that you could pick it up in around 2 hours. 

You thanked the man for his swiftness before requesting to look at another bracelet and a watch. You had made a mental note that you had finally accepted the offer from Arthur to join him, Charles, and their mom for Christmas night. 

You, again, asked for a special inscription to be put on the nice watch. By the time everything would be ready, you and Lando should be headed back to the car. You told the man that you’d like to pick up the second necklace at that time too, even though you didn’t need anything custom on Charles’ present. 

You found Lando waiting for you at the front of the store, hands holding two small bags. He looked up from his phone when his eyes caught you walking closer. 

“Find anything?” he asked, glancing at your empty hands. 

“I actually did. But I have to come back to get them when they’re done.” 

Lando let out a ‘ah’ before turning around to leave the nice store. 

“Are you good if we stop by the gaming place?” Lando questioned, looking over his shoulder as you tried to keep up. 

“Only if you show me what wheel to buy Max. Then I need to go to the toy shop that’s across the way.” 

Lando nodded and took your hand, almost dragging you along – which you didn’t mind, since people have said that you tend to get lost easily. As you approached the shop, you saw Lando’s eyes light up at the sight of all the gaming equipment. You wanted to laugh, but you knew you’d look the same way if you had stepped into a mechanic shop or a Porsche dealership. 

Lando quickly walked you over to the wall of wheels, pointing out which ones would be compatible with Max’s sim. Your bank account wanted to cry at the amount of zeros before the decimal point, but your heart was set on getting it for Max. He had given you what you always wanted, so you could at least get him something nice for Christmas. 

You ended up picking the one with the middle price, not the most expensive but not the “cheapest” one either. Your hands grabbed the box and held onto it tightly, not wanting to break it. The girl at the cashier register turned out to be a fan and asked for a picture. 

“As long as you don’t say what I’m buying. Gotta keep the present a surprise.” 

The girl nodded eagerly as she took a selfie with you. 

As she rang you up, she started to talk, “I know it’s not Formula 1, but I do E-Racing and you have been nothing short of an inspiration to me. It wasn’t easy being the only girl on my team, but you gave me the strength to keep going.” 

Wow. It was not on your agenda to cry today, but you couldn’t help the tears that formed in your eyes. You leaned over the counter to give her a quick hug and tell her how much those words meant to you. 

You hadn’t noticed that you were holding up the line until Lando yelled something from the back of it. Saying goodbye, you stalked back to where he was, hands full of gaming equipment. 

You raised an eyebrow. “All for you?” 

He only smirked in response. “Most of it is for my friend Max.” 

You cocked your head and heart dropped at the sight of the same steering wheel that you currently had in your bad. Did Lando plan to up-one you in gift giving. You held up the bag that held the wheel. 

“I thought I was getting the wheel for Max?” 

Lando had a look of confusion before his eyes showed an understanding. “You are not the only one with a best friend named Max.” 

You pouted. “Max is not my best friend.” 

“Oh yeah,” Lando tilted his head, “then who is?” 

The two of you stepped forward in the line. You hesitated before a deeper pout formed on your lips. 

You only grumbled, “Max.” 

Lando through his head back in laughter as you finally made it to the front of the line. Lando quickly payed for his things with a tap of his card. Your eyes nearly bulged out of your head when you saw the grand total for his purchases. Boy, oh boy, you couldn’t wait to drive for real and get that bank. 

You definitely had some money from over the years. Winnings, your godfather’s will (where everything went to you), and then the bonus you got for signing with Red Bull in the first place. But you had been planning to look into getting an apartment in Monaco and one in London along with a vehicle to be in both places so you didn’t waste money on rentals. 

Speaking of apartments, you phone buzzed with a notification from the agent that you hired to find you a suitable one. Your smile grew as you saw that she had told you that you had been approved for one about a ten minute walk from Max and that you could start moving in after Christmas. You quickly sent a text back where you profuse your thanks for her. 

“What’s got you all smiley, Bug?” Lando tried to peer over your shoulder to look at your phone. 

Your once smile turned into a scrunched face as you looked up at him. 

“Bug?” You tried out the name on your own tongue. 

Lando just shrugged. “Well, everyone calls you Kid. You’re not that much younger than me, so it doesn’t work the same. But you are shorter.” You hit his arm. “What?! It’s true. So Bug it is.” 

“I guess that’s fine.” 

“Now, do you want to tell me what message you got? Secret boyfriend? Arthur? Meme from Max?” 

You tried to bite back your grin, but you were just so happy. “I, uh, got approved for an apartment here, in Monaco. It’s about 10 minutes away from Max’s house.” 

“Well congratulations!” Lando brought you into a side hug, bags swinging. 

“Thank you, Lanno.” You were now the one dishing out nicknames. Lando’s smile only grew, but he didn’t mention anything about the name. Somehow that was good enough for you to infer that he liked it and didn’t think it was stupid. 

From there, the two of you stopped in a toy store while you quickly grabbed a few toys for Penelope: one being a prince doll, another a toy version of the RB19, and then a couple of stuffies that you hoped the girl would like. Lando also pitched in for a couple of extras. 

You also went back into the jewelry store to grab Kelly’s necklace, Arthur’s watch, and Charles’ bracelet. All had been exactly what you wanted and the engravings were beautiful. The McLaren driver also had good things to say about them as well. 

You asked for them to also be all packaged up, ready to go right under the tree that Kelly and Max had already put out, but not decorated. He had given that task to the ladies of the house. You had giggled when Kelly told you that he had absolutely no decorating skills. 

There weren’t any stores left for you and Lando to visit, and before you knew it, goodbyes were being exchanged with the promises of hanging out another time. 

y/n.89 posted

christmas shopping with kevin mccallister tagged: landonorris

liked by oscarpiastri, maxverstappen1, and 104,284 others

landonorris the slander is just wrong - where is your christmas spirit

y/n.89 I have plenty, just not for you logansargeant any for me? y/n.89 plenty mr. american

Christa72 thank you again for the picture!

y/n.89 it was so lovely to meet you!

box_box_official love seeing y/n become friends with the drivers outside the races

y/n-lover our Christmas queen

oscarpiastri you are right, he is giving kevin

landonorris oscaaaahhhhhh y/n.89 ahahahahahah get wrecked landonorris I think I heard a bug around here

Funny enough, you and P both fell asleep in the car on the way back. You were only woken up by Max lightly shaking you, something he remembered from the plane. With sleepy eyes and hands full of bags, you walked to your “room” and flopped on the bed. As Max passed with an armful of toddler, he chuckled at your form. He’d leave you for a bit until dinner was ready. 

He carefully put Penelope in her small bed, covering her lightly with a small blanket. As he turned to get up, a small hand reached out and pulled on his. His eyes widened a tad as he looked back at the sleepy girl.

His big hand cupped her head and brushed her hair out of her eyes. “Hey P, you sleepy or do you want to stay up with Maxie and Mommy?” 

Penelope rubbed her eyes as she sat up. “Is KiKi gonna be there?” 

Max cocked his head. “Who?” 

“KiKi.” 

Max thought for a moment. “Y/n?” 

The toddler just nodded holding her arms out, waiting to be picked up. Max quickly scooped her back up. Knowing that she’d want to see you, he brought her to your room, where you hadn’t moved an inch. He gently placed the toddler in your bed. To his surprise, in your sleep, you unconsciously moved to make room for P and put your arm around her bringing her closer. 

Max’s heart melted as he took out his phone to quickly text Kelly to come to your room. She was quick since she stood next to him in under a minute. He brought her close as they watch the two of you snuggle. They both heard a content hum escape your lips as your arm tightened around the girl. Tears made their way to Max’s lash line, but he managed to keep them at bay. 

“Let’s go make dinner,” Kelly whispered. 

Around an hour later, Max woke the two of you up for dinner. Once again, the meal was delicious. Your heart swelled at the soft smiles exchanged around the table. 

This is basically how the first part of the break went. Movies were watched, tears were shed (you definitely didn’t cry while watching the Polar Express), cookies were made and decorated (after many failed attempts), snow men were built, standing proudly in front of the house, and snowballs were thrown (Max apparently lost a snowball fight for the first time in 20 years). 

Before you knew it, Christmas Eve was finally here. You had woken up early, wanting to prepare for everything. Max definitely laughed when he saw you sitting by the chimney looking up at the sooty dark hole. 

“But how does he fit through there?” Your eyebrows were scrunched as you pondered over this with a bowl of cereal. 

Max sipped his coffee. “Magic.” 

“That makes zero sense.” You bit your spoon, eating the cereal that was there. Sadly, that was the last of your breakfast. Max ruffled your hair, making it messier than it was. 

All day long, you waited and waited and waited. You finally had something to do after dinner while the four of you decorated the tree. Somehow, Penelope had climbed on your back to reach the upper branches. 

“Higher Kiki! Higher!” She giggled as you hoisted her higher on your back. 

“Any higher and you’ll be in the ceiling.” You laughed along with her, Max and Kelly watching the two of you with fond smiles as well as taking pictures from time to time. Max was practically vibrating in his seat. He thought that last year with just him, Kelly, and P was the best that life could be. But seeing you with his “almost daughter” and seeing his “almost wife” look at you like you were her own: it was such a different feeling. 

He was brought out of his thoughts with your voice. 

“I think we’re done!” 

You and P held out your arms as to display your decorating jobs. The two adults clapped lightly. The toddler and you took a dramatic bow, before rushing to the kitchen. Giggles and laughs echoed through the warmly lit house. The two of you returned with a full glass of milk – carried by Penelope with two hands (like you reminded her) and you held two plates – one with cookies decorated with colorful icings and one with carrots (for the reindeer – of course). 

With a kiss on your head and one on P’s, the two of you were left to sleep by the Christmas tree. You, however, couldn’t stop wriggling: you were too excited about Santa. You had just gotten sleepy when you heard a noise, come from deeper in the house. Your once wiggly body quickly froze. If Santa was supposed to come down the chimney, which was at your feet, then why was there noise coming from the kitchen. 

You slowly sat up and grabbed the closest thing near you – funny enough it was “How to Build a Car” by Adrian Newey that Max used as a table topper. You slightly shook as you stood from the couch. You were thinking to yourself – was Santa just a home invader to come steal your things? 

Well, Max had invited you to his house and you were not about to let some fat man come rob him. You were an athlete, with real sweat – athlete sweat: you could take him. 

Gingerly you stepped around where P was sleeping and made your way farther into the house. Your eyes caught something red, and you froze once again when your eyes landed on another figure. 

What was Kelly doing with the burglar? 

Had he threatened her? Did he have a gun? Where was Max? Was he knocked unconscious and tied up in their bedroom, alone, possibly bleeding? Or even worse – dead? 

Tears welled in your eyes at the thought. Max couldn’t possibly be dead. Your sleepy mind was getting the best of you. You peered around the corner once more and your blood boiled. 

Santa was now leaning in – FOR A KISS?? That did it. 

You stepped out from behind the corner, book clenched in your hands in front of your chest. If he had a gun and shot, the book would save you – hopefully. 

Kelly finally saw you and her eyes widened at your shaking figure. She quickly tapped Santa (well, Max in a Santa suit) and gestured to you. With wide eyes, Max turned around and froze when he saw you as well. 

You were not supposed to be up. 

He stood up straighter and took his hands off his girlfriend. Trying to dissolve the situation carefully, he wanted to be the first one to talk, but you always had the upper hand. 

“Where is Max?” You voice wobbled. 

Max wanted to cry when he heard the shakiness in your tone. 

He cleared his throat before speaking with a deep tone. “He’s still asleep.” 

You glared at the fake robber-wanna-be. “Oh so you decide to come rob our house and threaten Kelly while Max is asleep?” By now, the book was slowly rising above your head. 

Max wanted to sigh, this was not going according to plan.

“Kid, Kelly just need to show me something about the, uh.” Max looked at Kelly, trying to speak with his eyes. 

“The cookies sweetie,” Kelly came up with the excuse on the spot. 

Your book was slowly coming down. “What about the cookies?” Now your voice sounded worried. Had you screwed up Santa’s cookies and was this the real Santa? And you were threatening him? 

“Nothing’s wrong with them Kid. I got a little lost in this big house,” his gloved hands gestured to the giant ceilings, “and I couldn’t find the cookies, milk, or carrots for the reindeer.” Max was able to come up with the second lie, but he could tell it was working. His eyes watched as you finally lowered the book. 

You exhaled sharply and yawned. Max and Kelly’s hearts melted at your sleepiness. Your head nodded as you tried to make sense of everything. 

Well, it would make sense for Santa to get lost in a home that he’d never visited before. And you and P didn’t put the cookies, milk, and carrots on the actual fireplace because you two were nervous he would step on them. Honestly, you were falling asleep where you were standing. 

Max cautiously stepped closer and put a hand on your back to lead you back to the couch. With eyes closed you let him guide you. He finally exhaled once you were tucked in. 

Kelly and he shared a glance at each other and disappeared around the corner and back to their room. Quiet laughs echoed through the bedroom as Max almost tripped on the red pants as he tried to get out of them. They quickly fell asleep when their heads hit their pillows. They could laugh at that for years to come. 

They felt as though they hadn’t gotten any sleep by the time Penelope came screaming through their room. 

“SANTA CAME! SANTA CAME!” The toddler’s arms were up in the air before she used to them lift herself onto the giant bed. Max groaned when she found a spot right on his stomach to park herself. 

Max picked her up as he swung his legs over the side of the bed. “Present time?” 

Penelope sat silent for a moment before the words really hit here before squeals left her lips. Once again, she darted out of the room to rush back to the main room. 

You had been in the kitchen making coffee. 

Honestly, you don’t even remember what happened. (And that’s probably for the best.) Before long, Max and Kelly waddled into the kitchen, barely awake. They were met with warm mugs in their hands and the smell of coffee in the kitchen. 

With smiles, they thanked you and headed into the living room where P was practically vibrating in her spot, yet was waiting for everyone. 

Max had been designated as “Santa” this year to pass and hand out the presents. He and Kelly shared a knowing look and a wink that you picked up on and flashed a confused face, but you let it go. It was probably some inside joke that didn’t involve you. Right. 

You were thankful for the first present that Max passed you, but where surprised when the second, third, fourth, fifth, and sixth present also made their way into your lap. You again had a confused look on your face, but the comforting smile on Kelly’s face helped you realize that these were all on purpose. 

Max and Kelly were also surprised when they also got a gift from you as well. You sheepishly smiled at them and went to speak, but the sound of paper ripping interrupted you. 

Well, there went Penelope. Laughs were shared as the young girl ripped and tore through the previously carefully wrapped present. 

When she got to yours, she stared at the prince doll and the stuffies. She felt each one and traced the dolls face. She quickly got up and wrapped her arms around your neck. 

“Thanks Kiki!” She had the largest smile on her face. 

You rubbed her back and hugged her tightly. “You’re very welcome.” 

She immediately sat back down and started to play. Possibly this time the story line would go much better as the prince could now save the princess. 

You guessed it was your turn now. You were about to open the first present, but Max stopped you. 

“Open this one first.” He gave you the smallest one first. 

You opened the small package and a gasp left your lips. 

Inside, was a small circular ornament. It was decorated with a family of four – two girls with a man and woman –  with lettering underneath them. You read the words out loud. 

“First Christmas as a Family of Four. Max, Kelly, Penelope, and Y/n.” You looked up from the ornament to the two adults who looked at you with such love. 

Max broke the silence. “Uh, we just wanted to get you something meaningful. No matter what happens you’ll always find yourself in our home and intermingled in our lives.” 

Kelly leaned in closer to Max. “We always want you here honey. You’re family now.” She intertwined her fingers with Max. 

You ducked your head with a small smile. “Can I put it on the tree?” 

With quick and eager nods, you stood up and tiptoed over the piles of papers that littered the floor. You found a nice branch right in the front of the tree and made sure it stayed. You walked back to your place and sat back down. 

“Your turn now.” 

The Dutch adults took their presents that you had bought them a few weeks ago. Kelly may have shed a tear or two when she noticed that the flowers were Max and P’s birth flowers. Yet, she promised that she’d take it to get your put there as well. That’s when you had started to cry. 

Max was shocked by how you had possibly known what steering wheel he had needed. You sheepishly said that you had received some help from Lando. 

“Kid, this is too expensive.” 

You crossed your arms. 

“I’m not poor.” 

Max rolled his eyes. “I know you aren’t but…” 

“No buts. I wanted to so you have to accept it.” 

Max finally sighed as he looked down at the wheel. “Fine.” 

You did a little wiggle dance at the small victory. 

“Yeah, yeah. Now would you please open the rest of your presents?” 

The next ones that you opened were a paddle kit (because you had once told Max that it would be good to bond over another sport), new shoes (yours were falling apart), small mini versions of Lightning McQueen and Sally (you promised to put it on your dash when you bought a car), some jewelry that Kelly picked out (she also promised that she’d help you renew your closet when you found a permanent place to stay), and then finally a Lecia Q2 camera (something Lando told Max that you might enjoy to have a separate hobby and one that he could help you out with). 

When every present had been unwrapped and played with for just a bit, you quietly stood up and cleared your voice. All three pairs of eyes were now on you. 

“I uh, just wanted to say thank you. I’ve never had something like this before, and you have definitely shown what I’ve been missing. But, I wouldn’t want to spend Christmas like this with anyone else – past or present. I’m glad that I have people like the three of you that love me and welcome me with open arms.” You took a deep breath. 

“I also wanted to say that I am happy here and really never want to call another place home like I’ve started to call this place home.” You reached for your phone. 

“Kid,” Max started to say. He wanted you to stay, but knew he would have to talk to Kelly about letting you stay here permanently. 

Except you had other plans. You sat in between them so that they could look at your screen. 

“Like I said, I would never want to leave now that I have finally found a place where I feel like I belong. So a couple of weeks ago, I hired an agent to find me a small apartment in a radius around her. And I got approved when we went shopping. It’s about a ten minute walk from here but it’s private enough where people really won’t think to look for me.” 

Max looked at you with a bright smile as he brought you into a hug. Kelly also leaned over to hug you as well. Penelope, who didn’t want to be left out, jumped into your lap. But, as your eyes glazed over the walls, you let out a gasp. 

Thinking that something was wrong, Max pulled away quickly, eyes glancing over you, trying to see what was wrong. Yet, you pointed at the window. 

“Snow.” 

Three heads whipped in that direction to also look at the white fluffy stuff that was falling from the sky. You quickly stood up and rushed to change into something warmer. Kelly, Max, and P followed suit. Once the four of you were bundled, you all walked outside to stand under the fresh snow. 

This wasn’t the first time you saw snow, but this would be your first white Christmas. You stood at the side as you watched Max and Kelly kneel near Penelope and start to build a snowman. You laughed as you watched Kelly put snow down Max’s jacket and Max desperately try to get the snow out. It looked as if he was break dancing as the snow slid down his back. Penelope just watched and laughed as Max wiggled. 

Max finally glanced at your and beckoned you over to join them. You shook your head as your own laugh started to sound in the stark white world that you were in. You stalked over and started to help them build the snowman. You could worry about other things at a later point. Here, this is where you belonged. 

With your family. 

So, this is Christmas.  

maxverstappen1 posted

my christmas girls tagged: kellypiquet and y/n.89

liked by y/n.89, landonorris, and 1,109,837 others

max-max-super the caption just destroyed me

emotional_support_rivals drivers during christmas are my favorite

y/n.89 love you maxie <3 thanks for loving me

maxverstappen1 anytime kid, anytime charles_leclerc like I said, max does have a heart maxverstappen1 watch it leclerc or I won't let her go over later arthur_leclerc Charles shut up please

iamred-iamyellow I'm not crying, you're crying

kellypiquet all my love for you, P, and y/n

y/n-updates the way he called y/n one of "his girls" - goodbye

landonorris Arthur wants to call her that as well *comment has been deleted* change_ur_f-car DID ANYONE ELSE SEE THAT?! landonorris close your eyes

y/n.89 has posted

I have everything I ever wished for right here - Merry Christmas tagged: maxverstappen1 and kellypiquet

liked by arthur_leclerc, carlossainz55, and 130,274 others

lastlaplando the verstappen household woke up and chose christmas caption VIOLENCE

maxiel-lover I know right, both had me bawlin formula1fan my favorite version of max is "soft for y/n" max

y/n's_version our christmas girl

redbullracing who won the snowball fight and snowman contest?

y/n.89 me maxverstappen1 me y/n.89 wanna think about your answer again???? maxverstappen1 y/n did

y/n.89 the last picture was pre-snow, max just got too cold to stand still for a winter family photo

landonorris typical max, always ruining lives somehow maxverstappen1 eXcUSe mE?!

emotional_support_rivals live, laugh, love y/n verstappen

y/n.89 no, we're taking Kelly's last name maxverstappen1 when did we talk about this? kellypiquet you were asleep

author MERRY CHRISTMAS!!

y/n.89 what are you doing here? author breaking the fourth wall? y/n.89 continue

For the full Christmas Day experience, read this chapter of Besties for the Resties!

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[auteurdelabre]

Something to Fight For (Epilogue) Dad!Joel x f!Reader

Something to Fight For: Epilogue

Warnings: Tooth-rottingly sweet epilogue.

Words: 5.3

a/n: I dragged y’all through angsty hell and I PROMISED I would deliver a happy ending and imo it don’t get much happier than this! Now, if you're sad this is over I understand. Nice thing is, I got vignettes happening featuring the characters in this story. Some of 'em sweet, some spicy, some funny. I can't say goodbye to these characters or this world quite yet. So I'm not gonna. And if you want, you're always welcome to request a scene you'd like to see in the comments! I love hearing what you want to see! And I got heaps of other writing, but if you like this sweeter sort I recommend: “Bravo! Take a Bow” and “Losing our Minds Together”

I thank every single one of you out there that read this story and left a review because it really feels like we built a community here in the comment section. I'm gonna miss seein' y'all here. Hopefully you stick around while I keep writing, but if not I am so glad we could share this online moment together. Thank you for making this fanfic author a happy gal. I'm gettin' choked up here so I'll stop and we can get on to seeing our sweet idiots in love.

Oh and please review, reblog, etc cuz it makes me smile.

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You walk into life on Rancher Street as naturally as if you've always been a fixture there. You think this is borne from a routine the three of you slipped into without thinking.

Mornings are coffee and cereal (Joel's banana pancakes on the weekends), then it's getting ready, brushing Sarah's hair, packing leftovers into cartoon lunch bags (for Sarah) and brown paper bags (for you and Joel). 

You're dropped off first; your work is on the way to the school. Its kisses for both of their sweet smiling faces and then you're thrust into the world of animal rescue. Joel drives Sarah to school next, holding her hand until they reach her classroom where he kisses her forehead and tells her to "learn lots" before handing her off to her new first grade teacher. 

He drives to Tommy at whatever site they're working at. The days are long, but punctuated with texts from you. Most are funny, some sweet. Occasionally Joel tries to write back but when he really wants to interact with you he just excuses himself and calls you. Hearing your voice always makes him smile in that dreamy, crooked way that has Tommy giving him shit the rest of the day.

At five promptly Joel returns to pick you up with Sarah buckled in her car seat smiling up at you. His heart jumps every time you come through the door, eyes bright and smiling as you jog over. He holds back the urge to kiss you senseless, restraining you both to a quick peck and then drives his girls home. 

Dinner is done by Joel unless you've offered (which you rarely do because cooking is a drag). Instead you help Sarah set the table and the meal is spent listening to Sarah talk about her day and the animals that you’ve helped to rescue. 

After dinner Sarah goes to play with her toys or watch a DVD while you tidy up. Joel sits with his coffee in his favorite green mug at the counter, eyes on you and chatting as you do the dishes. He always tries to help at first but you always remind him that he did the cooking and that you want to keep things fair. 

This is when you both talk about everything and anything. Work, movies you want to see, plans for the weekend, philosophical questions (you've both decided that you'd rather fight one horse sized duck versus a thousand duck sized horses, for example). Joel is hard to get information out of. He isn't used to talking about himself, but you urge him to do so. He thinks his job is boring but you're fascinated by controlling clients and his keen mind when problem solving an issue at a job site. 

Sometimes Sarah turns the volume of  the TV up really high during these times and Joel has to yell over the noise at her to turn it down, smiling and shaking his head. It's one of your favorite parts about being here. There's always noise in the background, either a television or laughter. Your home had been so quiet, so empty, you'd just never realized

The other favorite part is how Joel always finds ways to touch you. Subtle things like a hand trailing over your lower back as you wash the dishes, nestling his shoulder against yours as you watch television together, laughing and hip checking you gently as he passes you in the hallway. 

The only thing not perfect (at least for Joel) is the odd evening when you leave to go back to Maria's basement suite. He doesn't call the old suite your home because as far as he's concerned this is your home. 

His stomach always drops when he sees you've gathered your purse in your hands, ready to leave. Joel usually walks you to your car, but some nights he stops you both at the front door, bringing you into his arms and kissing you deeply. 

"I should go Joel," you tell him as he holds you, his mouth moving from your lips to your jaw, kissing that spot behind your ear that has you whimpering and your legs buckling. "Still have stuff there."

"Please stay," Joel murmurs against your mouth, hands wrapped around your waist as he presses into you against the wall. "Just a little longer."

Sometimes (often) this works. Your resolve breaks under his sweet mouth and hands and on these nights you wrap your legs around his waist and allow him to carry you back to the bedroom. 

These nights he spends hours making love to you until you're too exhausted to leave. These nights Joel likes best because you linger in his arms and in his bed until the morning, the scent of your perfume on his pillow and sheets until you return that evening. 

"Love having you here," Joel sleepily murmurs into your hair, kissing you awake one morning. "When are you just gonna move in?" 

Still half asleep in his bed you stretch, snuggling up against him and sighing into the crook of his neck. "Whenever you want, baby."

Joel wants you there all the time. He wants Sarah to know that you're there; he doesn't want to hide you. But you're tentative, nervous that this all feels too good too fast. You ask that Sarah not know that you're spending the night, not just yet. She knows that you’re daddy’s girlfriend, but that’s all you want her to know right now.

You pretend to arrive in the mornings, making a show of ringing the doorbell and smirking as Joel welcomes you in, his eyes amused. 

Despite the occasional seduction, Joel understands and he lets you go at your own pace. He agrees to what makes you feel comfortable. 

But he loves when you arrive with a new cardboard box of your stuff from Maria's. He sees the blush across your cheek as he excitedly takes it from you, asking where this one will go. Most of its clothes and those boxes are promptly brought to the bedroom and unpacked into the closet. Seeing your blouses hung next to his button ups makes him feel good.

Week by week more of your things are brought over until one day there's nothing left for you at Maria's except for your bed, dresser and sofa. You tell him as much over a late night snack of chocolate pudding after Sarah has been put to bed. 

"Pretty much everything I need is here."

Joel makes note of this, his heart hammering in his chest as he reaches into one of the drawers and pulls out the key he got cut.

“You’ll need this, then.”

He slides it across the counter with his forefinger, his eyes not leaving your face as he does.  He sees the surprise there, the widening of your eyes.

"You have a lot of keys to your house just lying around?" You joke, feeling your heart race.

"Nah, got this one cut the day after the wedding," Joel murmurs. "Thought you'd need it sooner or later." 

He loves seeing you blush, especially when you do that shy smile of yours.

When you look uncertain later that night in bed next to him, fingers twisting together anxiously Joel notices, lowering his book to glance at you. 

"What's wrong?"

"Are you really okay with me moving in here?" You ask with a furrowed brow. "It's not too soon?"

Joel's mouth over yours is all the answer you need. But he's so delighted by your potential move in that he'd already launched into an outline of what to do with your furniture. 

"We could sell your sofa and bed. I know a guy who needs a sofa. Only 'cuz my stuff is bigger and already here, but I don't want you feelin' like this isn't your house too so maybe we should-"

Kissing is the second best way to stop Joel Miller from rambling. The first is climbing on top of him and urging him inside of you, languidly bringing you both to orgasm.

You do both just to be safe. 

The things left at Paul's had been clothing and a few personal items. You considered leaving it, but decide in the end that you shouldn't have to. 

Your small pile of cardboard boxes are left outside his old apartment. He's sure not to be in said apartment when Joel goes with you to retrieve them.  

You'd ridden over in Joel's truck, the day punctuated by an unexpected silence with Joel's protective hand over your knee. He'd loaded the boxes alongside you, his face tight. With every box retrieved from Paul's place Joel grew more and more miserable. 

He hadn't responded to your gentle teasing as you both worked, had turned down your idea of going out for lunch, and had been all over a grumpy bastard. 

When you'd loaded everything and were driving home Joel's hand had flown back to your knee, grip just as tight as before.  When you finally questioned him about his bizarre behavior his dark eyes had been hard. 

"The boxes and Paul," Joel winces, eyes fixed on the road. "Just reminded me how close I was to losin' you."

You make him pull over right then and there so you can crawl into his lap and kiss him senseless. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you so tightly to him you feel breathless. 

"You'll never lose me, Joel," you whisper against his neck. "Never." 

When you make love that evening your fingers linger on his cheeks as you stare into his eyes and the words you whisper as he fills you are of the love you have for him, the longing for this life you held for so long within you. 

As you both begin to drift off, tangled together under the sheets you press a kiss to that patch in his beard that doesn't quite grow. 

"I'm not going anywhere, Joel. I'm done running."

///

You miss having an office space like your studio had. A little area for just you to organize your thoughts and work. But it's a small price to pay because you like existing on Rancher Street. You've enjoyed every day of the last three months.

It feels like home when you're there and not because of the structure but the two figures inside. Home isn't a place, you've come to realize, its people. Joel and Sarah.

Evening rituals are the same as when you babysat. Picking out books as Sarah slips into bed smelling of toothpaste and the hair cream Joel massages into the curls under her favorite purple bonnet. You smiling at her while she snuggles down under the covers, propping toad up next to her so he can see the pictures in the books.

"Okay we're ready."

The only difference is that Joel is there too, bending down to kiss his daughter's cheek and murmuring a low "G'night babygirl. Sweet dreams. Love you." 

She gives him a sweet 'I love you' back, kissing his lightly bearded cheek. If Joel takes too long to leave, getting distracted by the sight of you gathering books or just wanting to linger, Sarah is prone to shooting him a silent look that communicates: okay, I love you dad, now please leave.

He always does. Because reading before bed is your special time, just the two of you. Joel used to do it on the nights you weren't there, but now you are there every single night his services are no longer necessary. 

Joel's qualities are better served in the kitchen, you and Sarah decide as you watch her drawing on the sidewalk with the chalk you've just bought. 

"Daddy's a better cook than you."

She says it thoughtfully and without malice as she draws a lopsided flower. 

"Yes," you agree with a nod, making a star pattern nearby. "Much better. I think he puts love in his food. I just use salt."

But the ever empathetic Sarah is quick to point out your many virtues as well. The main one of course being your stellar reading ability and your stories in general. 

So every single night Joel stands there outside Sarah's room, arms folded and shoulder tilted against the hallway wall, his cheek facing the half closed door of his daughter. 

There he listens to the two of you giggling or you reading the book Sarah has picked from your pile (Sarah's right, you're very good at doing the voices), the gentle murmurs of 'I love you" thrown back between you two and those sounds wind around Joel's heart in a way he never knew just sounds could. 

He's so fucking happy. 

And when you finally creep out, quietly closing the door behind you and shooting him a pleased smile, Joel is always there to grip you by the hand and drag you to your shared bedroom down the hall. 

Rarely do the two of you make it to the bed with all your clothes on because Joel has many virtues outside of the kitchen as well. 

///

Joel watches you give a frustrated sigh, frowning at the laptop on the kitchen table before putting your face in your hands. 

"Everything okay?"

"Just this fu- darn sanctuary project," you self correct, remembering a listening Sarah sitting across from you. 

Sarah has a piece of paper she has drawn to look like a laptop and she pretends to clack away on it when you do on yours. Joel sits next to you, his knee brushing yours as you complain. 

"Alex's contact said she could get the supplies at cost and he was supposed to get back to me but he hasn't and now the landscaping guy is saying -" you pause, realizing Joel's eyes have taken on a dreamy, faraway look. “-And you're not even listening to me, are you Miller?"

He gives you a guilty look. "Nope."

You give a sharp laugh at his honesty, leaning over and shoving his shoulder with yours affectionately.

"Hey, I really wanna show you somethin'," Joel says with a hint of excitement in his dark brown eyes, a window into the boy he must have been. "C'mon. Both of you." 

You follow him down the steps to the basement, to Tommy's old place, your hand wrapped around Sarah's. You both follow him towards the large door separating the areas, watching his broad shouldered walk, the excitement in his rapid footsteps. 

At the door there he spins with a small anticipatory smile on his handsome face. 

"I thought this would be a good place to have for an office," Joel explains shyly pointing to the door behind him. 

You smile up at him, delighted that he thought of you needing one. He pushes open the door for you, his eyes on your face as he does. 

Balloons. 

Hundreds of colorful balloons take up almost the entire main room of the basement.  

Sarah doesn't wait for you, she runs in headfirst giggling and shrieking, her arms open wide. 

You walk into the basement in a daze, your eyes owlish as you take in this prism of color, feeling the balloons brush your skin, the awe-inspiring sensation of being surrounded in a rainbow. You laugh, it bursts from you.

You can see that the space beyond the balloons has been transformed into an office, complete with built in bookcases and a custom desk under the window. You trace a hand along the desk before being swept up in the color of the balloons and Sarah's contagious laughter.

Joel is standing there just outside the door, his eyes bright as he watches the two loves of his life laughing and tossing up the colorful balloons.  

Sarah kicks at them with vigor, her head thrown back in laughter at the squeaks they emit when knocked about.  

Joel looks to you, expecting the same behavior and pausing when he sees how you're now standing there looking at him with damp eyes. The balloons float between you, falling to block his eyes as you approach. 

"Joel."

"Mmm?"

"Get in here," you order gently, your finger curling around his collar as you gently tug him in encouragement. You can't move him of course, but he grins widely, nodding and stepping into the color with you. 

For a moment neither of you speaks. All you can see is Joel and the balloons that seem to surround you on all sides, the colors framing his beautiful face. You can hear Sarah's distant laughter.

Then Joel smiles in that sweet, open way of his. You look down when you feel his hand taking yours and see a diamond ring being slipped onto your fourth finger. You stare at it in amazement before your gaze meets his. In his deep brown eyes you see a future so beautiful you never could have imagined it. What you don’t know is that when Joel looks into your eyes he sees exactly the same.  

"Will you ma-"

"Yes," you breathe without letting him finish, your hands coming to either side of his jaw. He pulls you into his arms grinning before his mouth is on yours, gentle and sweet. You know that your eyes are wet and you know that on your deathbed this will be one of those moments that comes to you, comforting you. 

You pull back and look around at all the balloons, the color and you smile broadly through the tears. 

"Couldn't wait for your birthday," Joel murmurs against your cheek. "Hope that's okay."

"Yeah," you say curling your arms around his neck. "It's okay." 

You don't mind at all.

///

"Shit, did you feed the cat?"

"Daddy you said sh-"

"I know babygirl," Joel says rubbing the back of his neck as Sarah looks to him with a chastised look. "Was wrong of me. Daddy just doesn't want to find another hairball in his shoe. "

Jam, your orange tabby kitten is not really yours at all. Despite being brought home for you, Jam quickly decided that Sarah with her warm bed and shirts covered in food crumbs was a much better companion than you. You don't mind though, seeing how much Sarah loves the cat is enough for you. 

"I fed him," you say giggling as the three of you make your way up the drive. The whole gang has been invited to Frank and Bill's for a Sunday lunch. You see them quite often despite living on Rancher Street full time. 

They often encourage you to bring Sarah and you do without hesitation. She loves Bill and Frank just as much as you do. She loves painting with Uncle Frank and baking with Uncle Bill. She loves that their house smells like cinnamon in the winter and fresh flowers in the summer. 

Despite living right next door, Maria and Tommy arrive late with cornbread and lemonade, but are given a reprieve when Maria shares that she took so long getting ready because "morning sickness makes it hard to feel cute."

Joel had hugged Tommy so tightly you were sure you heard bones cracking. You had just cried, throwing your arms around Maria, careful not to squeeze. Sarah asked to feel the baby and Maria told her it was a bit too early to feel much, but she still let her niece gently stroke her swelling belly. 

"I think it's gonna be a boy," Maria told you sagely over lemonade at the table. "A mother knows."

You smile, thinking of a little mix of Maria and Tommy in the vision of a little baby boy. Your eyes sail over to Joel, watching as he chats with Jackson and Tommy. You wonder what it would be like if you had a kid. Who would it take after? 

You’re distracted by this idea when Sarah and Bill bring out the dessert, followed by Frank with the coffee. The cupcakes are decorated to resemble beautiful flowers and you all wait as Sarah picks the perfect one for each of you. A daisy for Sarah, a lily each for Auntie Maria and Uncle Tommy,  a purple rose for Daddy, a peony for Frank and a forget-me-not for Bill and finally Sarah smiles at the pink carnation she labored the longest over with Bill. Sarah immediately cites that this one belongs to you. 

"That one," Sarah says pointing, watching as Bill pushes the plated cupcake in your direction. "Do you like that one, Mama?"

Joel's hand that's been absently rubbing along your spine stills when he hears that. His attention goes to your face, seeing the way your eyes have gotten wide. Mama.

You feel your breath catch in your chest as she calls you this, her tiny face turned up and smiling at you. You don't want to embarrass her, don't want to draw attention to the fact that she's called you Mama.

She did it so casually, so naturally that a part of you is worried she didn't even realize she'd done it. If you draw attention to it you're scared there's a chance that she'll take it back. 

"I love it," you whisper, pressing a kiss to her cheek. "Thank you, bug." 

You kiss her again, feeling tears prick your eyes when Joel's hand skates to the small of your back, squeezing softly. Maria and Tommy are wet-eyed, and share a soft smile before turning their attention to their cupcakes. Frank sniffles, pretending he’s just about to sneeze. You catch Bill’s eyes across the table and when you see them glossy and that’s what makes the tears spill over your lash line.

"Why are you crying?" Sarah asks, her head cocked to the side. She can’t understand why everyone suddenly got so quiet.  

"I'm not," you insist. "Just allergies."

Sarah is satisfied or maybe just relieved with this answer and she and clamors onto the chair next to you, ready to dig into her own cupcake. She leans companionably against you, starting to tell Auntie Maria and Uncle Tommy about the class hamster.  

You feel Joel's kiss on your temple and you turn to see his eyes damp like yours. 

"Mama," you whisper to him. "I'm Mama."

////////

3 years later

Joel is at your side, whispering how strong you are, how beautiful, but all you want to do is punch him.

Hard.

"You did this to me!" You say through clenched teeth as a wave of painful cramping goes through you. Your head falls back onto the damp hospital pillow. 

"If I recall it was a very mutual decision," Joel insists with a wry smile. His mouth goes to your ear and his voice drops to a deliciously low timbre only you can hear. "The words 'fuck me pregnant' were a direct quote by you, were they not?"

You don't answer him on that. Not just because he's right, but because a stab of pain is going through your pelvis that takes your breath away. 

St. David's is a very fine hospital with very fine people but at this moment everything is not fucking fine. You feel like you've been split in half by a fucking axe. 

"Doing so good, baby," Joel croons, wiping the damp hair from your forehead and temples as he watches the doctor and nurses at your feet. "Keep going, keep going." 

For a delirious moment you think that it was Joel saying these exact words that got you pregnant in the first place and you let out a high pitched laugh as Joel looks to you in concern. 

"Push," the doctor says, breaking into your foggy brain. And so you do. As you have been doing for the last three fucking hours.

You grit your teeth, feeling Joel's mouth on your temple whispering words of encouragement and you push. You push with everything you have and then...

There is a pause and then the loud braying sound of a newborn's cry. The doctor's voice behind the mask rings out. 

"It's a girl!"

A sister for Sarah, just like she'd wanted.

A second daughter for you and Joel. 

You look over to see Joel's dark eyes shimmering with tears and you feel you've never been so in love with him as you are in this moment. You burst into tears, your face wet as Joel kisses you. 

"You're amazing," Joel whispers against your mouth. "Fucking amazing." 

The nurse brings over a pink faced infant with a shock of dark brown hair. She is pink all over and her little face is scrunched up as she wails. You take her into your arms, marveling at how you and Joel made the little creature you're now holding. She's so warm and she smells so good. 

You glance over at Joel, recalling all the nights spent with his hand curving over your belly, murmuring soft sweet things to your daughter as she grew there. You think of when you both sang together, your hand carding through his hair and his eyes on you. You remember how on the days she felt really jumpy, all it would take is Joel singing a few bars from a song and she would quiet right down.

Now Joel's finger goes to trace the slope of her tiny nose and you smile as she quiets down, grunting. Seems he has a soothing effect on her outside the womb as well.

"She's so fucking perfect."

"Hopefully she doesn't swear as much as her parents," Joel says as he presses his lips to your temple.

You giggle at that, pulling her back so you can see your daughter's sweet face. The wailing has subsided and she gives little grunts as she tries to open her eyes.  

"Hi Ellie," you coo. "We're your parents."

/////

Four years after your first meeting, Joel Miller sits across from you in the very booth you had your disastrous blind date on. It's become a sort of tongue in cheek tradition, to have you all back to where it began. 

Only this booth is far more crowded than it ever was then. A very pregnant Maria slides in next to you, looking every bit the beautiful goddess she always does. Tommy and their son slip into the opposite side beside Joel, saying their hellos. 

"They're so cute," Maria coos as she watches Sarah give Ellie a toy to play with before going back to her puzzle book.  

"Sarah loves being a big sister," you smile softly. 

"Tell that to Jackson would you?" Maria says rolling her eyes at her eldest child who is obsessed with his game boy. "He seems to think that this new baby means the beginning of the end." 

"He's been an only child for so long he doesn't want to share you," you insist. But you can't help but feel secretly lucky that your daughter's had an immediate connection. 

Even when pregnant, Sarah had talked to the baby in your belly, she'd even helped pick out her sisters name. At this moment Sarah is curled up next to you on her seat, pencil in hand and her eyes focused on her latest obsession. 

Toad has been replaced by puzzle books (though you still find him under her pillow most nights) and her new favorite color is green. She's wearing green head to toe tonight including the green barrettes in her hair. She's like a slender blade of grass with wild hair and big, hazel eyes.

And while much about Sarah has changed, she still smiles when you and her father kiss, she still wows you with knowledge beyond her years and she still plays with the ends of your hair when she's anxious or distracted. Oh and she still loves you to death. 

You sling an arm around her, your eyes on the menu before traveling up to watch Joel across from you. He's looking at Ellie in her booster seat next to him, babbling incoherently as most toddlers do. 

Ellie is a daddy's girl though and through, obsessed with Joel the minute she laid eyes on him. It's now to the point where if she starts crying most mornings you simply glance his way. He always gives a grumpy frown before you see the smile peeking through as he goes to retrieve her from her crib.

He's smiling broadly at her now, his finger tracing down her nose as she gurgles. Something he’s done since she was born. There's something about seeing Joel Miller, all broad shoulders and inherent masculinity, being so soft that makes you love him harder.

Sometimes when you're watching him play with your daughters or watching him cook you all dinner, you feel this overwhelming love for Joel that's almost incapacitating. 

He seems to sense your gaze because his eyes travel over to you. He gives you a playful wink. 

"You look great tonight," Joel says with eyes that linger on your décolletage.

"Thanks," you say taking an equally appreciative look at your husband. "You clean up pretty well yourself."

More than pretty well. Joel Miller is, as Frank had once told you, sex on legs, and you have to agree with the assessment. His linen shirt is rolled to the elbows, showing off his muscled forearms. His hair is brushed back from his face and he's wearing his glasses as he reads the menu. (Something he only does when desperate as you’d found out when living with him). 

Joel wets his lower lip without thinking, his eyes drifting back down the front of your dress. Maria and Tommy are helping Jackson decide on what to order for dinner, distracted from your end of the table.  

"You keep looking at me like that, Miller and we're gonna wind up with another kid," you murmur with a smirk, knowing Sarah's not paying attention.

"I'm not opposed to that," Joel says, his gaze heated. 

"That's because you don't have to carry or pop them out," you reply with a good-natured roll of your eyes. "Just get to do the fun part."

Joel grins as you tilt over the table to fix the bow in Ellie's hair that your mother sent you. Ellie gurgles happily at you, smacking her tiny fists on the table. Joel takes this as an opportunity to not very covertly ogle your chest. 

"Joel," you hiss, even though a smile is breaking out over your features. Joel tries to look innocently up at you, brows raised.

“Yeah baby?”

You want to be irritated, but he knows very well you love it.  

"I don't know this one, Mama," Sarah says pointing to something on the page in her puzzle book. She's normally very independent so you know she must be really stuck.  You glance over at the crossword clue.

"A six lettered spore producer," you read aloud and think for a moment. "Fungus?"

"That fits," Sarah enthuses, her pencil writing hurriedly. 

"Speaking of which, I'll have the mushroom ravioli," you say as your server comes to take your order. Joel orders his chicken penne and Sarah's spaghetti and then his hand comes to fall on yours as the server takes the rest of the orders for the table. 

His hand is heavy and warm, but that's nothing compared to the warmth of his eyes. It's the kind of look you associate with deep thinking, his "dreamy stare" as you've coined it. 

"What are you thinking about, Miller?'

"Just that I never thought I'd be married to the same woman who screamed at me in the parking lot of this very restaurant."

You giggle behind your wineglass, watching Joel's eyes go soft.  

"Or how happy I'd be."

He brings your hand up to his mouth, kissing gently. He holds you there, watching as you stare back at him with eyes so full of love you're shocked Cupid himself hasn't come to give you his job. 

You begin to smirk when Joel's dark eyes drop to your chest and then dart back to your face. 

"I was also thinking about how three is a very nice number. . ."

#joel miller x you #something to fight for fic #something to fight for #something to fight for series #joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #dad joel miller #pedro pascal #fanfiction #smut #fanfic #Dad!Joel #dad!joel miller #Joel Miller lives #Happy ending #Epilogue #joel miller the last of us #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fic

[pinky-promis3s]

☾☯☽

Letting You Draw On Them

☾☯☽

Imagine: you have a sharpie, they have skin, its free real estate

Includes: Colby and Sam

☾☯☽

Colby Brock

You knew how much Colby adored his tattoos, he had a story to each one and a meaning that he could ramble on for hours. It was hard to lie that you didn't love his tattoos either, frequently you had found yourself trace the ink with your finger and just mesmerizing the design and details. It especially happened in the morning when you would be tucked to his side, your head pressed against his chest and a palm gently over his heart lock tattoo. When you would finally wake up, that was how you would wake him up just by tracing his tattoos and admiring each one till he eventually work up; tickled from your grazing touch.

When the words left your mouth, you expected an immediate no but in your surprise, he just gave you a spare sharpie marker he had and his hand. He seemed to be too focused in his conversation with Sam and Jake to really care what you were doing to his skin or what you were putting on it. Of course, you weren't an ass. You weren't just gonna draw a penis and call it a day, no you wanted to make something nice on his skin, something he could be proud of and go 'hey my partner did this' so you did.

When he finally looked at your little drawing on the back of his hand, he smiled at it and kissed the side of your head, "you're so talented baby, thank you."

These little drawing sessions had continued, every now and again when he would just be sitting there and not doing anything too important, you would pounce with the sharpie. Or if the drawing had started to fade, he would offer up his hand after a shower and ask you to redraw it, wanting to wear your artwork for a little longer than the universe would allow.

☾☯☽

Sam Golbach

Sam never thought he would ever have a tattoo, it was one of those things he would admire from a far but would never do to his own skin. Months of dating and you had never told Sam about your passion for drawing, it was one of those little things you did when you were bored and you were never bored around Sam. But one night he had been editing while you were sitting on the bed across from Sam's desk, he had been in his editing zone and you found herself finding a pen on the bedside table of his bed. Without paper around, you leaned against the wall against Sam's bed and start to draw on your exposed skin, every now and again looking up to Sam who had his eyes glued to the screen.

You had lost yourself in a zone and soon found your entire forearm covered in your little drawings. When Sam had finished his editing and took off his headphones, he eyed you doodling on your skin and laid down on the bed, propping himself up on his elbow and watching you draw.

"Would you do those little drawings on me?" when you had asked Sam to repeat, not quite believing what you had heard, he had repeated with a soft smile, "I just think you're really good and I'd like to have your work on my skin." You watched Sam roll up his sleeve and offer you his arm and a giddy little joy went over you.

You practically bounced on your knees and soon had a matching doodled up arm with your boyfriend. After that day, Sam soon had asked to see all your drawings and you were happy to show him no matter what, especially when soon after the showing of your art, you found Sam asking for your drawings more and more. He loved when people would point it out in parties just so he could get a little bit more to brag about to people about how awesome you are

☾☯☽

Thanks for reading, please reblog to show your support for my work and maybe comment to make me happy :)

Taglist:

☾☯☽

#sam and colby #sam and colby x reader #colby brock #sam golbach #sam golbach x reader #colby brock x reader #sam and colby headcannons #colby brock headcannons #sam golbach headcannons

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

the girl next door 24

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.

This lewk but silverfox

The afternoon passes peacefully by the soft babble of the brook. Your forgotten friend stays with his camera but doesn’t bother you much. You remember him vaguely. Some years of your childhood seem to blend together but you recall the boy and his lawn mower. Your grandmother would give him a five dollar bill as your mom asked why you hadn’t offered to do it first. 

You’re more surprised that he remembers you. You’ve always been a side note. Nothing or no one special. More than ten years later and he seems almost happy to see you. Well, like he says, a familiar face can be a comfort when everything else is new. 

You still your pencil and look up at the sky then over your shoulder. Peter grabs onto the bridge and swings himself up from below. His camera hangs from a strap around his neck as he tidies his hair. He smiles as he comes across the bridge, his eyes flicking towards your sketchbook. 

You hesitate and turn the page towards him, showing him as your heart pulse. You don’t often share your work and the river scene is much more than your usual subject. He considers it, leaning in as he nods. 

“Wow, very nice,” he praises. “You’re very good at that. Not me,” he chuckles and scratches his neck, “the camera does all the work.” 

You close up the book with the pencil inside. You rock and look behind you once more. 

“Guess you should get going, huh?” He asks. 

You shrug. 

“Can I walk with you? I wouldn’t mind getting the lay of the land,” he offers. “Is it far?” 

You shake your head and press the book to your chest. You turn without a word and lead him across the bridge onto the paved path. You come up onto the sidewalk, the sun beating down hotly on your faded denim and heavy cotton. 

“I’m sorry to hear about your grandma,” he says, “she was a nice woman.” 

You nod and give a bittersweet smile. She could be, when she wanted to be. Other kids deserved kindness, but you, you were useless. 

“Can I show you something?” He asks as he grabs his camera and clicks the buttons, “here, look.” 

He turns the little screen to you and shades it with his hand. You look at you keep your feet moving. A monarch butterfly floats above a broken dandelion, just beyond the river’s edge. The framing brings the eye right to its colourful wings. 

“Pretty,” you say.  

“Huh, yeah,” he lets the camera hang again. “Just a bit of fun. A hobby between classes.” 

You chew your lip and don’t comment on the last part.  

“Engineering,” he supplies, “heavy duty. You go to school?” 

You don’t react as you squeeze the edges of your sketchbook. You look down, your soles scuffing on the pavement. You frown and shake your head. 

“Ah, well, you know, it’s not for everyone. You sell your art?” 

You pop your head up and look at him. Huh?

“Yeah, I’m sure you could sell that if you made it digital or something,” he points to your book. 

Maybe but you don’t have a computer or a tablet or anything like that. You won’t let him know all that. You just shrug and keep walking. 

“Anyway,” he laughs off the awkward silence. 

You look ahead as you come in sight of the house. You see Steve’s car in his driveway and your insides mulch. They’re home. You stop at the corner and face Peter. 

“I’ll walk from here,” you insist. 

“Oh, uh, I don’t mind.” 

“It’s okay,” you say. “Thanks.” 

“Maybe I’ll see you around,” he grins. 

“Maybe.” 

You tramp off and glance behind you, only to make sure he doesn’t follow. He watches but stays on the corner. You turn ahead as you near the front gate of your mother’s house. Your name frightens you as it comes from the other side of the fence. 

“Where were you?” Steve charges down his front steps, so quick and determined that you wince and stumble onto the grass as you look at him. “We were looking for you.” 

“Oh,” you bat your eyes. 

“Oh?” He echoes, “sweetie, we were worried.” 

“I... went for a walk.” 

He looks you up and down, the lines in his forehead lessening as he heaves a breath. He still wears his nice shirt and trousers, but his tie is gone and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His gray hair is neat but for a shank that threatens to fall down his forehead. 

“Drawing?” He asks. You nod. “You should leave a note, next time.” 

“Sorry,” you bite your lip and notice how his eyes catch on that gesture. 

“Your mom’s a bit out of it. It’s been a really long day for her and the last thing she needed was to worry about you,” he shakes his head and crosses his arms. You slump and look at your feet. Your mom worried about you? “I just got her to lay down, I told her I’d find you.” 

“I’m sorry,” you repeat louder, “okay?” 

“Sweetie, I’m just looking out for you. We’re a family now, aren’t we?” 

Your jaw clenches and you stare at him blankly. He keeps saying that but you don’t know. You and your mom were barely that. She just tolerates you. 

“Sorry if I seem impatient,” he says, “we need to talk about some things.” 

“Talk?” You swallow dryly.  

You think you know what he wants to say but you thought he might wait until tomorrow. Your skin buzzes. Your future has always been dull and predictable; just another day with your mom, at home. Now, you might lose both. 

“Come on, it’s still sunny out, we’ll sit out back and I’ll make some lemonade.” 

You try to hide your uncertainty but you can’t feel it straining in your cheek. You put your head down and go around to his side of the picket fence. He waits for you to go ahead of him and leads you around the side of the house. He takes you onto the deck and you sit at the table. 

“Don’t wanna wake your mom,” he says, “I’ll be right back.” 

You stare out at the yard. It’s still very unreal to you. They’re married but everything still looks the same. The distant shouts of child drift in the air and the steady rustle of leaves rises from bushes and trees alike. The sunlight grows unbearable as you sit in its blaze. 

The sliding door shuts and Steve plunks down two glasses of lemonade before he sits. He shifts and adjusts, pulling the chair around closer to you and puts his elbow on the table. He watches you as you avoid looking back at him. 

“Thirsty? You must be hot, why don’t you come in the shade?” He suggests.  

You don’t say a word. You sit there behind a wall, waiting for it to shatter. You grip your book in your lap and stare at the bright green grass. 

“Ahem, so, sweetie,” he clears his throat, “I know this has all been so sudden but... me and your mom talked this out in every direction. After what happened, the hospital, well, she needs help. Professional help. She needs a nurse. Someone to come look after her a few hours a day. And... the invoice wasn’t easy to look at either...” 

He lets his words hang. You and your mom aren’t well off. You never have been. You live in that suburb by the grace of your grandmother’s bequeathal. An emergency room visit isn’t cheap and a nurse is completely beyond your stipend. You frown. 

“But...” you blink. “I take care of mom. I...” you feel bad to mention the money but it’s your only income, even if most of it goes back to her. 

“I know, honey, we talked about that too,” he leans forward and caresses your arm, just above your elbow, “and it’s okay. I told you, I’m going to take care of you both. I’m here to support you. Maybe... maybe you could find something else to earn some money. I know a few gallery owners...” 

You keep your head down as goosebumps rise under his touch. It crawls up under your loose sleeve. You shrink down further. 

“Maybe... I’m not that good.” 

“Who told you that?” He continues to tickle you, more firmly as he shifts closer. “I know it’ll be strange at first, sweetie, but we all just need to get used to each other.” 

You stretch your hands across your sketchbook and go rigid. 

“It’s okay if it’s a lot to process. Take your time,” his hand creeps along your shoulder and down the back, edging along your bra. What is he doing? 

You croak, “okay.” 

“You know, sweetie,” he retracts his hand from your sleeve and tugs it straight. You wince as he leans forward and nudges your chin up, “today was intense but I don’t want you to be unhappy.” 

You just stare at him. What does he want you to say? You can barely think straight. 

“And screw what that waiter said, that dress looked gorgeous on you,” he smiles and drags his fingertips down your neck, his eyes following them, “it fits you perfectly.” 

You clasp your sketchbook tight as heat roils around you. It must be the humidity or the sunlight boiling you from the inside. His hand dances along your tee shirt and he sits back, balling his hand up as he rests it on his thigh. 

“Here, let me show you,” he lifts one hip and reaches into his pocket. He pulls out his phone, “look.” 

He flicks through his phone and brings up a photo. He turns the screen towards you and you reluctantly glance at it. You lean in as you can hardly make it out at first. It’s zoomed in so it’s just you and Steve. You cringe at how your chest seems about to burst from the dress. Your gaze trails down to his fingers curled into your side and sensation ripples up your spine at the memory. 

“You’re a pretty young woman,” he says, “having a nurse, well, that means you’ll get to enjoy this very exciting time in your life.” 

You sit back. You can’t look at the picture again. It’s awful. You hate it. 

There’s a tap on the door and you flinch. Steve sits back stiffly and cranes to see over his shoulder. He blacks the phone screen and stands slowly, his hand grazing over his belt and giving a subtle tug. The fabric along the front tents as if creased. You don’t know, you hardly look at the odd bulging. You don’t even know how you noticed. 

He spins and waves at your mom as she leans weakly against the inside of the sliding doors. 

“Must be her new meds,” he says, “I’ll be back, sweetie.” 

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #drabble #series #the girl next door #au #silverfox au #mcu #marvel #captain america #avengers

[slut4fangs]

🍒 double cherry pie 🍒

pairing: female reader x eddie munson

summary: you and eddie have been friends for years, until one day you decide to ask him what the handcuffs on his wall are for *wink wink*

warnings: 18+, smut, slight innocence kink but reader is playing dumb (strategically), come eating lolz, possessive eddie, bestfriend!eddie makes his return, not proofread i was really excited to post this one haha, and the rest is a surprise

author’s note: this idea came to my head and there are so many eddie fics it’s possible some version of this exists somewhere else, but anyhow my brain wouldn’t shut up about this idea until i wrote it down haha. please reblog and comment i love to hear your feedback it keeps me encouraged to write! okay ilysm enjoy babes

not proofread be nice - xoxo, slater

Eddie Munson was good at getting what he wanted needed out of you, he needed you more than he needed air to breathe. Not that you noticed though, you two had been friends for as long as you could remember and Eddie had always been inching closer and closer to having you all to himself. In your time as friends, Eddie had decided he would be your first everything. I’m talking all of the bases, first base aka kissing, second base aka touching above the waist, third base aka touching below the waist. And lastly, he planned on a home run, because in his mind no one else deserved to have you like that but him. He had been a guard dog of sorts, protecting you from any heartbreak, which meant scaring off anyone who tried to get their hands on you. It wasn’t easy, some were persistent, leaving notes in your locker, walking you to class, nothing or no one got between Eddie and his favorite girl. His girl.

“What are these for,” you feigned innocence at the handcuffs that adorned Eddie’s poster cluttered walls. You knew exactly what they were meant for, you just wanted to hear him say it. The confused look on your face nearly took Eddie’s breath away, now was his chance.

“For bad girls,” Eddie chuckled at his own ridiculous behavior. God, you were driving him crazy without even laying a finger on him.

“Oh?” Your voice rant with curiosity and interest, maybe you could be bad. Just this one time, maybe. Eddie was shirtless in his tight black jeans and he really couldn't have looked more delectable than he did at this very moment. The temptation was there for the taking.

“Mmmhm,” Eddie sat on his bed, hands placed behind him to prop him up.

“Mmmhm isn’t much of an answer, Munson,” your heart raced, you really couldn’t help toying with him a bit. He thought you were none the wiser, but you had a hunch for what all of his odd behavior meant lately. You were just unaware of how much he actually liked you. It was bordering on obsession and Eddie couldn’t help it, he adored you, always had. The tension the last few weeks were palpable to say the least.

“Well I could show you better than I can tell you…” Eddie smirked knowingly at you, sitting up to rest his hands on his thighs.

“And what is that supposed to mean,” you blushed sweetly. Eddie loved when he made you blush, if he only knew how many times you had blushed and turned away so he couldn’t see turn red. It happened more often than you liked to admit.

“You’re a hands on learner aren’t you,” Eddie trailed off hopefully.

Say yes, say yes, say yes Eddie thought to himself.

“How’d you know,” you smiled at him, of course he knew that he’s known you forever. He just hoped you’d say yes, and he was halfway to getting that yes.

“Hand em’ over then,” Eddie held out his hand and you took the handcuffs off the wall careful not to scuff the paint, not that Eddie would care. He worshiped the ground you walked on, after all.

“Okay…,” you say handing them to Eddie, and to your delight he pats his lap as if to say ‘take a seat.’

Straddling his lap you try your best to stay calm and cool about the whole situation, but it was a long time coming and you could’ve screamed if you weren’t so nervous.

“Now,” Eddie begins, holding the handcuffs out to you, “hands.” You place your hands in front of you waiting on further instruction, giddy as a kid in a candy shop.

Eddie cuffs your wrists and snaps the clasps shut sounds so final, heart pounding you smile and say “now what.”

“Now…you’re stuck with me,” Eddie places your cuffed hands around his neck and presses your body to his, you can feel how hard you’ve made him and you audibly gasp. Eddie’s hands are palming your ass, “nice skirt,” his hands are under your skirt now, fingers skimming the lace detail of your panties. “Cute,” Eddie comments, a small groan escaping his pretty mouth.

“Ditto,” you wanted nothing more but to kiss him in this moment, but good things were worth waiting for.

“Ditto? Are you calling me cute?” Eddie looked a mix between amused and confused. No one has called him cute since he was a little kid, it wasn’t a compliment he was used to. The frequented compliments came from the punk girl who worked the gas station near his house, and one of the older waitresses at his work. Sarah always complimented his hair and jacket, and Mabel always told him how handsome he looked with his hair pushed back as he worked. She had said he looked more and more handsome every time she saw him, she felt like she watched him grow up in the blink of an eye. And Sarah thought he was cool, but she liked women only, Eddie just happened to be the prettiest boy in town. Plenty of girls liked Eddie, but he was taboo, town gossip ensured his dating life was much more complicated than it should ever be for someone in their early twenties.

“Yes,” you sigh, a little dreamy sigh that had slipped out before you could stop it. “You’re cute, but you’re also hot.”

“Hot?” Eddie raised his eyebrows in shock, you’ve never really commented on his looks, you thought he already knew how good looking and charming he was. But you were getting the memo that he didn’t actually know, and you thought someone should let him know, you’d be damned if it was anyone else but you.

“As hot as the trailer gets in the summer when the window AC unit goes out and you hit it and cuss it out until it works,” you say making Eddie’s mouth drop. Were you really admitting you had feelings for him by making a reference to his shitty AC?

“Oh my god,” is all Eddie can say, “how long have you been in love with me?” And just like that his smartass attitude had returned with a vengeance, he knew you liked him now so all bets were off, no more tiptoeing around the truth.

“Quit it, are you going to show me what these handcuffs are for or not, Eddie Munson?”

“I could have you cuffed to this bed and screaming my name, but I don’t think you’re ready for that yet,” Eddie says and you scoff. “Don’t get an attitude with me,” Eddie smirks at the brat straddling him, “patience is a virtue, Princess.”

“Whatever,” you roll your eyes and wish you could cross your arms in protest. How did he know what you were and weren’t ready for? What was his fucking deal? “Whose the tease now,” you remark, not able to hold that one back when you should’ve been feigning innocence and keeping face.

“Oh, so you were doing that on purpose? Aw my little tease, how cute,” Eddie boops the tip of your nose with his finger.

“Shut up,” you retort.

“Be careful, remember I’m the one with the key.”

“What are you trying to say?” Your attitude was palpable at this point and Eddie was getting fed up. Before you knew what was happening Eddie had you flipped you onto the bed and a hand holding your cuffed wrists to the mattress above your head.

“I’m trying to say I’d be careful if I were you, I might keep you here like this forever,” his other hand held your cheek so gently like you might break.

“Is that a threat?” You’re the one smirking now, staying here under him didn’t seem like a bad fate after all.

“You’re going to kill me,” Eddie whispered, thinking of how to hold himself back when you were here, waiting for him to touch you, wanting him almost as much as he wanted you. Eddie knew he wanted to take his time with you, first base was the end goal but god the home run was right in front of his face, begging him to go further than he thought you were ready for.

Before he did anything else he had to know for sure, because it looked as though you could’ve already had your first kiss. Not that it would change his mind about you, he just wanted to be your everything, that was all. “Has anyone ever kissed you? Honest answer please.”

“No! Oh my god, I’ve been waiting for you,” you whined and writhed beneath him, he could feel his dick brush against you and he hissed at the feeling.

“You have no idea how what that means to me,” Eddie said reaching over you to his nightstand for the key.

“I think I have an idea,” you nodded your head towards his crotch and he laughed unlocking the cuffs.

Tossing the handcuffs to the side Eddie laughed and brought you back up to his lap in an instant, for a lanky guy he really had the potential to toss you around and that made your mind run wild with the possibilities.

“Kiss me already, what are you waiting for?” You ask impatiently squeezing Eddie’s arms.

“Waitin’ for that beautiful mouth of yours to quit moving,” Eddie brushed his thumb along your bottom lip teasingly and you nodded, closing your mouth, eyes big and glassy. He melted at the sight of you. “That’s more like it,” Eddie held your face and your hands held onto his arms in vice like grips. Eddie and you met half way, lips brushing slightly, “close your eyes,” Eddie directed making you laugh. Your laugh was cut short by him pressing his mouth to yours, he quite literally took your breath away. The kiss was soft and warm, gentle at first, Eddie ran his tongue across your bottom lip and you opened your mouth for him. The two of you melted together nicely, a sweet kiss turned pornographic and animalistic the way you two had both waited for this moment forever. Eddie moaned in your mouth and you pressed yourself against him, he was still sensitive but didn’t break the kiss even though it hurt. He thought it hurt too good to stop. His hands raked down your hips and then back up, you would’ve gasped when he groped your breasts but you were too busy devouring him to break the kiss. Too busy to question his hand under your skirt, feeling how wet you were for him. You could feel him smile as he ran his finger through your folds, two fingers stretching you out deliciously you couldn't fight the urge to rock back and fourth on his fingers, and that's when you pushed against him until his back hit the mattress. You broke the kiss and stared down at him, he cheeks were flushed and he looked breathtaking.

"Hmm," you sat up and fiddled with his handcuff belt buckle, he was looking at you with awe and curiosity. What were you planning to do next? He decided that would be your choice. Much to his surprise you started unbuckling his belt and undoing his jeans.

"Are you sure about this," Eddie held the waistband of his jeans, waiting on that yes again.

"I've never been more sure of anything, Eddie. I want you, I want this," you said and that's all it took for Eddie to peel his jeans off while you took your shirt off. Not feeling shy, not feeling anything but how right this all felt. Eddie's fingers slid along the waistband of your panties and slipped them off with ease, when you sat on top of him with no barrier in between the two of you he sighed with relief. Rubbing yourself on him was making his head spin, he let out a string of curses when you licked up his neck, kissing and sucking until he had you flipped over on your back again, giggling up at him, you knew just how to drive him wild.

"You're trouble," Eddie pumped two fingers in and out of you torturously slow, curling his fingers in a come hither motion over and over again until your legs felt like jelly and the sounds coming from you sounded rated R. You whined with his tongue on your neck, sucking on the sensitive skin until there was sure to be a big hickey in the shape of Eddie's mouth. But you didn't care what people would think, nothing could ruin this.

"You're sinful," slipped out of your mouth and you surprised yourself at the sheer smoothness of your words, something about him made you comfortable enough to say these dirty things.

"Mm, maybe my mouth is," Eddie's tongue circled your breast, sucking on your breast staring up at you, you knew Eddie's mouth wasn't the most sinful thing about him with his cock pressed to your tummy. You run your hands through his hair and whine, tears rolling down your cheeks from the overstimulation. "Feel good, Princess?" Eddie kissed your lips and smiled devilishly down at you.

"Mhm," you nodded.

"Mhm isn't much of an answer, baby. Need to hear you say it," Eddie parted your thighs further apart for him, angling himself closer to you and rubbing his cock up and down your folds, almost pushing himself in but not yet, not until you said it.

"Need to feel you inside me, please, Eddie," you held his face and swept his hair out of the way, your hands running through his hair were quickly becoming one of his biggest weaknesses. He couldn't deny you of what you wanted any longer, when the only thing you wanted was for him to be closer.

"Fuck," Eddie cursed burying himself into you halfway, "I don't know if I'll fit, relax for me. Ok, baby? How does that feel?" He kissed your cheek and wiped a tear away.

"More, please," you dig your fingernails into Eddie's back and he laughs, relieved he wasn't hurting you. "Feels good, Eddie, need more," you scratch down his back, cherry red nails gripping onto his waist, your hips moving against his, giving you everything you asked for and more. You really weren't expecting him to be this big.

Your kiss marks all over his chest and neck he tells you "you're making a mess of me, trying to ruin me for everyone else?"

"Isn't that what you're doing too?" You smirk up at him knowingly.

"That obvious, huh?"

"Yes," you cry out, your orgasm finally hitting you in waves.

"Oh my god, Cherry," Eddie said using that cute nickname only he could call you, no one else. Keeping the same pace he held you close and soothed you through the intensity, kissing you everywhere. "Let me see your tongue," you stick your tongue out and let him spit on it and makeout until you feel him release inside of you.

Then Eddie does something you never could've seen coming, he isn't done with you yet. He finds a comfortable place for his head between your thighs, biting and sucking at the plush flesh inside your thighs, there he kisses you pussy and sucks at your clit making you shake. Licking you clean, and lapping his come out of your pussy, you watch in amazement as he winks at you while his tongue fucks your pussy, the most sinful thing you've ever seen and felt.

You wondered just how long he planned to do this, if you only really knew how long he'd thought about having you like this. The hickeys on your neck were enough to scare anyone away from his Cherry pie.

#eddie x female reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x female!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #best friend!eddie #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x yn #eddie munson x y/n #best friend!eddie munson #eddie munson x best friend reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson blurbs #eddie munson oneshot

[nyxthejinx]

Answering to this desperate cry for help

Maaan this was so much fun fr, i hope I made these bad boys justice. Also, didn't know what kind of format I should be using and especially how to repost the original thing, since copying and pasting on the reblog would be absolute hell rip

𝐓𝐖: people biting each other but in an affectionate way, idk lemme know if there's more

𝐅𝐭.: Dottore, Xiao, Childe - GN!Reader

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.1k (in total)

𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨: 3rd Made in Abyss soundtrack - Kevin Penkin (yes, it's that good, no comment)

𝐃𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐞

OHOO he's gonna be so intrigued by this weird habit of yours.

We all know he's not big on social interactions and all -he barely values human life- but when you came into the picture he felt invested in someone for the first time. Hence he observes... Normal people, to learn the basics.

He's smart, a quick learner. Will understand in no time your likes and dislikes, but one day you?? Bite him? Chomp like a feral newborn kitten? Oh, his scholar personality spikes through the roof.

Dottore's never seen anyone bite their partner like you do, it confuses him at first, although he won't say anything and just chuckle. He'd rather observe you and come to his own conclusions before asking.

Was it a one time thing? When, how and where do you like to do it? Is there a deeper meaning, a show of intimacy? Need for attention? Affection?

Yeah he'll treat it like a maths equation, that's how he is.

Some days you'd see him without his mask, leaning particularly close to your face. Other times he'd set his gloves aside and let his digits linger on your cheeks and jaw for every little thing. (He knows he’s difficult to bite because of his clothes)

"Oh Dear, look at your lips, they're chapped/full of crumbs/smeared with any other kind of food/every single excuse he can come up with."

It takes you a bit longer than you would've wanted, but you realise his true intentions eventually. If you feel smug you can just chomp on him randomly and see him lose his mind (he thought he'd figured everything out rip dottore.exe).

I advise against it though, he'd repay the torture tenfold. (aka not cuddle with you even if you ask nicely).

Overall, Dottore finds this habit of yours cute. You're a nice little, innocent thing in his eyes and that just adds to your charm.

Yeah you can be a 1.90m tall menace of a person and he'd still tease you, an arrogant, mean jerk >:(

After some time he starts biting you back (ouch shark teeth), not in a painful way ofc. He's so casual with it, most likely to strike when you least expect it just to see your surprised and/or flustered face.

Or to have you chomping in return, even ;)

I'd say 7.5/10, good chomping partner but will "fight" back.

𝐗𝐢𝐚𝐨

My guy, poor guy.

He's another social inept, we all know why.

He started to learn about human customs after meeting you, and you've helped him out a lot, but he's still so stiff.

He probably gets a heart attack every time you give him a surprise hug. The day you chomp on him his soul leaves his body.

It's not that he's a scaredy cat, physical touch just overwhelms his senses if he's not prepared :((

Asks you to tell him beforehand next time.

But aside from that he doesn't seem to mind. He finds every human custom weird in a way, this one is no exception, and eventually it becomes routine yeah?

I think he's a perfect subject for chomping, with all the exposed skin he has. I mean, look at his shoulders! The urge to sneak up from behind and just CHOMP.

He's got muscles for days too, won't shatter your teeth on his bones. AND HIS CHEEKS- his baby cheeks, they look so soft how can you not bite those.

But yeah, just give him some time and he'll get used to this.

Xiao's not stupid either, he notices right away that you're the only human partaking in this activity, or in public at least. Lowkey feels happy and proud to have you as a partner, you're so special and unique :( <33

At some point he'll want to try it out as well, but he's sooo shy about it and a bit scared he'll hurt you. You gotta make him confess with bone crushing hugs.

When he eventually chomps back he's UGHH so soft with it. For Xiao it's more about the meaning and the bonding experience than the chomp itself.

9/10 if you're fine with doing all the chomping. 8/10 if you want chomps back, but definetly recommended.

𝐂𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐞

Run. RUN. RUN FOR YOUR CHEEKS' LIFE.

He is THE chomping menace.

Let me tell ya, you're putting your life on the line. It's like a declaration of war and he will not hesitate to respond with all he's got.

We know for a fact that he's always up for a challenge. If you're crazy enough to engage and bite him first, well I hope you have a survival plan for the rest of your life cus he won't stop.

It can and will escalate in a "fight" if you're in a private space (you know the tickle fights where you become a mess of tangled limbs? That.) If you try that in public though? He's gonna look at you like a damn predator.

He'll eat your cheeks once you get home, good luck.

His bites are rough-ish too, unfortunately for you. He’d never hurt you on purpose, and is always careful with his strength, but in the heat of battle he’ll forget; 7 times out of 10 you leave the field with a 32 teeth bite mark. 

I think he is more of a cheek guy than anything. They're always available and easy to reach, regardless of your height, and it's also so intimate because who else touches your face? No one, aside from him.

He's the chosen one.

And don't think it will stop at the first time, no no. You've unlocked a new hobby for him. He'll put so much effort in it, it's terrifying.

If you act surprised or flustered well, bonus points in his opinion. Your face is just priceless and will make a habit to make you react that way.

At that point you either fight back or succumb. His soft spots are his stomach (duh, nibble on the exposed skin when he's in his work clothes, I bet he's ticklish), his nape, collarbones and overall the base of his neck.

The rest of his body is still a good chomping surface, but his instincts kick in and his muscles go taut, it's like biting a rock and has no effect on him.

Childe will definitely give you a hard time. It's up to you to take advantage of the right moment and give him a good revenge chomp.

Honestly, he's my fave ever but I'll give him a 5/10 just because of that. Can't even bite the man in peace anymore 🙄

DON'T copy/repost my work. REBLOG instead! ©nyxthejinx

#Genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #xiao x reader #xiao #genshin xiao #childe #childe x reader #genshin childe #tartaglia #tartaglia x reader #genshin tartaglia #dottore x reader #genshin dottore #fatui x reader #fatui harbingers x reader #genshin blurbs #gn reader #genshin drabble #genshin fluff #genshin images #| Genshin Impact 🌓 | #| Nyx Writes 🌑 |

[essenceofelegance]

Poseidon’s (pt. 1)

Luke Castellan x poseidon!reader, Percy Jackson x halfsister!reader

m.list

pt. 2, pt. 3

warnings: none

You ran up to Luke from behind, wrapping your arms around his neck, “Hey, hero,” you greeted, kissing his neck with a smile.

You were a daughter of Poseidon, you’ve been dating Luke Castellan for four years now, you arrived at camp a couple months later than Luke.

“Who’s this?” you said, directing your gaze at the unclaimed Percy.

“Percy, he’s the one who killed the Minotaur,” Luke said as he leaned his face into your forehead, “Be nice, it’s his first day.”

You smiled, unwrapping your hand from his neck, “I’m always nice, that’s why everybody loves me,” you joked, as you walked in front of Luke to shake Percy’s hands.

“I’m Y/n, Poseidon’s,” you held out your hand with a warm smile.

“Percy,” Percy said as he shook your hand.

“What do you think?” Luke asked as he wrapped his arms around your waist, kissing your hair.

You and Luke have a tradition of guessing the Godly heritage of new  campers, and so far, you were always right.

“Hm,” you said, “Has your mom ever said anything about your dad?” you asked Percy, “Hey, you can’t ask,” Luke said.

“Uh- No, I don’t think so.” Percy said.

“I say Poseidon,” you whispered in Luke’s ear as you sent him a wink and walked away.

-

“Earthshaker, Stormbringer, Father of Horses. Hail, Perseus Jackson, Son of the Sea God,” Chiron said.

You rushed up to where everything was happening, just in time to catch the fading trident above Percy’s head.

You quickly scanned the crowd for Luke, just to find that his eyes were already on yours. You sent  him a victorious smirk.

You walked over to Percy.

“Well, I guess you have a sister now,” you said with a smile. “Yeah,” Percy flashed you a polite smile.

“Welcome to the family!” you patted Percy on the back, “Thanks,” Percy said, a genuine tone in his voice.

You were about to go clean up and make some space in the cabin for Percy, when you saw Luke coming over, “You owe me two days of dessert, Castellan,” you smiled.

“You win, again,” he sighed with a smile, “I really thought I would in this time.”

“Were you guys placing bets on me?” Percy asked.

You smiled, “Mhm. Tradition,” you sent another smirk at Luke, “And so far, I’ve won almost every single time.”

“You knew I was a Poseidon kid?” Percy frowned.

“You have dad’s eyes,” you gave him a smile.

“Come on,” you gestured for Percy to follow you, “Luke will help you with your stuff, I’ll go clean up the cabin.”

pt. 2

author: okay since a lot of you didn’t like sand on cheeks (series), i’m working on more luke stuff to keep you all happy. please tell me you like this- PART TWO IS GONNA BREAK SOME HEARTS.

Copyright © 2024 Emory Belrose. All rights reserved. 

⋆

Please do not re-upload my work on any platforms without permission.

Any reblogs, comments, likes, shares, and follows are appreciated.

#percy #percy jackson #percy jackson show #percy and annabeth #percy pjo #percy series #percy jackon and the olympians #perseus jackson #annabeth pjo #fanfic #angst #acotar fanfiction #annabeth #chalice of the gods #percy jackson imagine #pjo x reader #pjo x you #percy jackson x you #pjo fanfic #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #luke castellan imagine

[00-jammy-00]

🫧 anon.

what about like. a baker yandere who owns the shop beside florist shop owner reader, yknow? like baker brings pastries to florist and he tries to be casual about it, but he gets sooo flustered because reader is just so sweet and nice and beautiful and wowowowwwww.

and they give him flowers for his shop, to be nice, but to him it’s essentially a marriage proposal……

Yan!Baker HC’s

Yan!Baker x GN! Florist! Reader

Content warning - Yandere themes, obsession, implied murder, nsfw mentions, masochist yan, possessiveness, HE MAKES YOU EAT CUM BREAD, stalking, horny yan, kind of dumb yan

A/N - I realised that I haven’t been doing enough masochist yanderes (in my opinion because I’m not insane.) so I decided to make this reader rude and cold but still somewhat friendly. If you want an alt version where the reader is kind, I will gladly write it if you send a request xoxo

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Yan!Baker who knew it was love at first sight when he saw you angrily slam open the door to the dusty shop next door to his. That place had been empty for years so it was shocking to see someone finally buy it out.

Yan!Baker who hypes himself up in the mirror on his desk before finally marching over to give you a basket of fresh baked goods, all made by his own hand. He stumbles into the door after he decided to try and push the door that was clearly labelled “pull” before sheepishly stepping into your shop.

Yan!Baker whose heart swooned when you glared at him with those terrifying eyes. It made the hairs on his neck stand and his cock throb. You were so hot! He introduced himself shakily and gave you the basket before running off with a hard on.

Yan!Baker who made it a habit to drop by your shop every single day to deliver new pastries. He claimed to have added a special ingredient, yeah, the ingredient was pretty fucking special. It had him sitting alone upstairs jerking himself off into a bowl just to see your face scrunch up as you begrudgingly complimented the taste of the new bread he’d made.

Yan!Baker who, when he wasn’t delivering you homemade baskets, was watching you from his upstairs bedroom with a pair of binoculars held in one hand while the other was used to fist his dick. God you looked so good when you were tending to those flowers.

Yan!Baker who tripped on his own feet and slammed into his counter when you had given him a tiny pot plant for decoration. You are giving this to him? Willingly? Is this love? Do you love him? You want him, don’t you?

Yan!Baker who becomes so much more obsessive, any person who dares flirt with you is gifted to you as fertiliser asap. You’re his, you gave him that little plant to show your growing love. You knew everything, didn’t you? You knew he watched you in the shower, didn’t you? That’s why you ran your hands down your body like that. You’re so sly!

Yan!Baker who will do anything for you. He would sell his whole family business if you some much as asked. Glare at him, you look better that way. Roll your eyes and degrade him, only makes him love you more. You call him creepy? Nonsense baby, you must be thinking of someone else! He’s looking out for you. And looking at you. Always looking at you. Only you.

——————————————————————————————————

Likes, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated, requests are open <3

please do not copy, repost or translate any of my works on other platforms without my permission.

#male yandere #male yandere x reader #male yandere x y/n #male yandere x you #soft yandere #tw yandere #x female reader #x gn reader #yandere aesthetic #yandere male #yandere blog #x you #yandere #yandere x you #yandere x reader #x male reader #x reader #yandere x male darling #yandere x male reader #yandere oc #yandere x y/n #yandere x darling #yandere boyfriend #yandere community #yandere thoughts #yandere x gn reader #yandere x gender neutral reader #x gn y/n #x gender neutral reader #x male y/n

[darlingofvalyria]

❝I am not a Valyrian Sex God.❞

part 03 | pucker up, buttercup

chapter summary:

[ The line of friendship dances in uncertain waters when you and Aemond play the fake dating game a little too well. Helaena reveals much more than meets the eye to Aegon, and vice versa. Oh, and Alys. Hi Alys! ]

[ 5,399 ] [ series masterlist ] | best friend's brother!aemond targaryen x f!reader, ft. cregan stark x f!reader & aemond targaryen x alys rivers,

contains— mostly fluff, a wee bit angsty, a little smutty - profanity, i swear a lot sorry too shhshs - no use of y/n - no gods, no kings, no betas.

a/n— thank you so much for the love this little fic is getting so far!! it truly warms my heart that you people enjoy my twisty, crackpot humour and my version of a modern au for these characters!! as much as i am grateful for george for making these characters and these stories, i have to say what propelled me to write is the beautiful community i found. truly, from the bottom of my heart. ❥ fandom is built on community. i would not have had the courage to start writing fanfiction again if not for ya'll. so thank you so much. for the consumers and the creators. you, us, are the beating heart of fandom. please take care of each other. + comment, reblog & like at will, mwa ♡

"Please tell me I haven't inhaled so much drugs in my system that I am hallucinating our— and I say this with a lot love, okay you know what? No. Our Nasty Little Bitch of A Grudge Holder we call, lovingly, a brother, is not dating the hottest friend you have? Hel? The hottest friend you told me if I ever came anywhere near, you'd rip me a new asshole? How is Aemond's asshole still intact?? Or does our brother just have a gaping fun-house slide down there? Hello? Hellooo, pay attention to meee. This is so rude, why didn't I call Daeron?"

"Because Daeron knows nothing and I know everything?" Hel snorts, finishing up re-naming Aemond's contact from CURRENT DUMB BRO to NASTY LITTLE BITCH OF A GRUDGE HOLDER, before turning to Aegon on her laptop.

Like she predicted, Aegon is already pouting, leaning back on what Helaena remembers is their grandfather's rum-coloured leather office chair. In his office. In Oldtown.

After a quick stint in Ibiza, it seems Helaena's brother had found himself back in the country, and worse— back in their grandfather's office. Without him in it.

"Grandpa's going to kill you." Helaena snorts. "How'd you even get inside his house?"

"This is not the first time I have been faced with a locked door, baby sister."

"You broke a window didn't you?"

"I really, really had to piss."

She rolls her eyes. Hard. "You are a boy. You can literally just pee anywhere."

Aegon flutters a gasp and a hand over his chest. "Excuse me? I may have a penis, but that does not mean I have to be uncouth. For shame, Helaena. Also disgusting. But that's not why I called." He steeples his fingers as he leans forward, pressing his elbows against the nice mahogany desk. "What the fuck is happening over there? I'll be there by tomorrow and I'd like to know what the fuck is happening before I start—" he wiggles his eyebrows salaciously, " — shaking things up."

A dark look crosses Helaena's usually amiable pretty face that has Aegon leaning back. "If you do anything— and I mean anything — to ruin what I have going on, Mother may help you for I certainly won't. The Stranger will look like an old friend, Egg, don't you fucking dare."

"What the fuck," Aegon exhales, wide-eyed and horrified. "Have you been watching M. Night Shyamalan movies again?"

"No," she lies. "I'm doing this for my OTP."

 "Oh my god, you're the one who roped them together?" Aegon strangles a sigh. "Lae-lae, we've talked about this. No matter how much you think they're cute, Aemond—"

"— Aemond and Alys broke up."

"Then they'll be together again before the weekend's out." Aegon rolls his eyes. "It's Aemond."

"Not like this." Hel shakes her head. "I got her to agree, Egg. And they're like... Gods, the pictures don't do them justice. They're magnetic. They make plans at the apartment, Aemond is there all the time— my OTP is happening."

"You are playing god between two people you care about."

"What else am I supposed to do?! They're obviously so hot for each other, and now that Alys is out of the picture, and she's there, right in front of him, Egg, you should see how it is between them. The energy. It's crackling. They have inside jokes, they're so comfortable with each other, and I will have the most beautiful nephew and niece—"

"—Helaena Targaryen," Aegon admonishes with finality. Hel quiets. Often times, the siblings forget Aegon is quintessentially the oldest sibling. They had never been close to their father's actual firstborn— the age gap is wide and there's just... too much complicated family fissures in between that it feels awkward, even when they're relationship is okay, to interact or consider Rhaenyra anything past a cousin you see every other holiday because you have to, much less now that their father's dead — so Aegon is their big brother.

And though they see it in bits, in flung comet pieces that you see preciously once every few hundred years— the vibe of big brother grasps the edges and reminds the younger siblings.

Sure, he's a dick. Sure, he's a whore. Sure, he's their mother's least and most favourite headache— but Aegon is their big brother.

"You cannot play puppeteer like this. This can blow up in their faces. And they care for each other. Their friends. If this blows up in their faces, it is going to hurt."

"I know that," Helaena says quietly, pout pinched but face mostly cleared. "You don't think I don't know?"

"I think you've already outweighed your chances and your choosing a possibility."

Helaena looks truly scolded at that point, and it juts a guilt down Aegon's stomach. But Aegon likes you. Maybe not like in the way that his brother likes you— in that intense, possessive way he gets with people and things he care about because there are so few of them — but he likes you. And he loves Aemond on a bad day, and likes him on a good one.

And Aegon knows, as a superior power about crashing and burning, that this is going to hurt both of you in ways that he truly doesn't think Helaena understands.

Because he isn't blind (as his brother) (bad joke?) (probably) to what he sees in Aemond's gaze when it looks at you. Sure it's possessive, sure it's the same way he looks at most people he keeps close to his heart.

But he was the one who saw how Aemond looked at you before Alys came into the picture. Before it morphed into nothing but platonic; morphed close to how he looks at Helaena. In that soft, I'm So Glad This Person Exists I Would Kill Literally Everyone For Them.

Aegon always thought he looked at you like he wanted to devour you. Etch you into his skin until your shape is in red marks across white plane. He looked at you like I Would Kill Myself If You Asked.

It was the possibility of devotion dipped in insanity. Aemond had so few things, much less people, who so vocally, physically, and emotionally cared for him without addendums.

The only real reason he never did anything before was because you were Helaena's best friend. Helaena loved you. And he couldn't destroy that alongside the fact that you might leave his side.

And then Alys happened and that focal point moved.

Aegon knew his brother. Not as intensely, and maybe that's the reason he could see it. To see clearly past the intensity and recognise its edges. Aegon knew his brother in his marrow.

"When this crashes and burns—"

"If!" Helaena quips stubbornly. "If it crashes and burns. Come home. You'll see, Egg. Aemond just needs to see."

"And what if she doesn't reciprocate, Lae-lae? She's not hard to love, and this is Aemond." Even Helaena knows his feelings, once taken root in whatever form, can blossom.

Helaena smiles softly. "Come home. You'll see. I can see it. I've seen it. The possibility of them, and it's so pretty, Egg."

It's really not all that pretty, fake dating.

Maybe it could be, but Aemond Targaryen is such an ass.

"This is not like The Devil Wears Prada fashion montage," you grumble, pinching off the big, 60s, yellow sunglasses off your nose to glare pointedly at the man sat on lounge chair. "All the zippers and tugging— this is not as pretty! And I look ridiculous! I don't wear dresses like these, Aemy!"

"You don't look ridiculous, you look like my girlfriend." He makes his emphasis with an inch raised eyebrow and pouty lips twitching not to laugh. "That's the point, is it not?"

You make a drawl huff. It's not just that his words were right— that's what the past hour has been, roaming around all these big named fashion brands where the staff just knows Aemond Targaryen, if not just by him sauntering in with all the swagger of an asshole you'd walk the other side of the street to ignore, then by the flash of his black card (or three, 'cause what the fuck is money to Targaryens holy shit) — but the way he's sitting as he appraises every look he's chosen for you.

He's lax, as could be in his usually perfect posture, with his hips in the middle, and one leg braced down whilst the other is raised to his other thigh. A confident man's sitting position, with an arm over the length of the sofa, balancing a champagne a trying-to-suppress-her-giddiness staff gave him.

At your disapproved glare— down on your nose at him because you're standing over him, lording over him, as he's sitting down — and he's smirking up at you. As if the power dynamics don't shift by whoever is looming over the other.

Aemond doesn't need to stand to make you feel all fluttery with a smirk and a strong gaze against your body. His eyes gaze from the bottom of your heeled toes, slow, slow, slow, until it reached the top of your head.

Surely you've only imagined his gaze lingering on certain parts of you that now felt hot and tingly.

Surely.

"Plus," he continues with a hum. A sip of champagne. "Isn't this your idea?"

"Yes, but—"

"Didn't you tell me that I should prepare the kind of outfits that Aemond Targaryen's girlfriend would wear—"

 "Yes, but I—"

He leans forward, taking pleasure in arguing with you, as he settles his elbows on his knees, pressing both of his feet flat on the tile. He's looking up, still, but his eyes are intense and the corner of his mouth is twitching from a grin he's trying to fight.

"And even when I told you that didn't matter, that whatever you wore would be fine, you insisted?"

"Because I thought it'd be fun!" you growl and he falls in faint, amused laughter. His eye is sparkling and there's a joy to him that makes you giddy. You truly have missed Aemond as you know him. "Because I wanted a fun dress-up montage, but nothing about this is fun! Why are you choosing so many goddamned zippers, and they're all so fucking tight?"

You plop beside him, stealing his champagne. Staff look away, trying not to ogle too much between you two. As you take sips of his drink, his hand, still over the sofa's arm, begin drawing idle circles on your exposed shoulders. It warms you and calms you down, melting further in the seat beside him.

"I liked the dresses," he finally murmurs. "The ones before this. The flowy fabric ones."

"Those are summer dresses," you say though don't know why.

"Hm," he hums. "You look pretty in them."

You look up at him and he's looking at you, a small smile on his face. The proximity is too near to be proper but not near enough if you're fake dating. You study his silver lashes and the scarred flesh.

"Thanks."

"We'll get them. Is that alright with you?"

You snort softly. "You're paying, Aemy. You can do whatever you want. Can't believe this is how your dates with Alys usually went."

Hatching plans meant unloading information about his former relationship with her. Going through their relationship so you could understand it better, better proportioned the good and the bad, and secretly, make him see the red flags that should jump out in clear, plastic red.

"Not at first." He's looking away now, but his finger is still drawing circles. There's a wistful tone to his voice, like seeing through a dream and a memory. "But when it got... bad, it seemed like the only time we weren't fighting was when we were in public. Almost subconsciously, whenever things got tensed, I'd offer to take us out. Do anything outside of our bubble. Money isn't an issue, and before Alys said she felt like a... cheap whore than a girlfriend, buying things for her, spending time looking through things to wear, to match almost, was safe."

"Gift Giving," you mutter with a nod. He turns.

"What was that?"

"A love language." He cocks his head. You sigh. "I mean it's stupid and not really theoretically accurate, but for fun, there's five types of love languages. People do this test thing and sort of box up the kind of love language you want to receive and what you give— but truly, in my opinion, a true kind of love demands all five for it to work."

He hums, intrigued. "And what are the five?"

"Words of Affirmation, Quality Time, Physical Touch, Acts of Service, Gift Giving. But, you know, all of those should be given by a partner, in increments they can do for you. There shouldn't be a boxed fixture of what your relationship could be."

You shrug, standing up and stretching. You don't see him looking at you in the way that he has been for the past few days, and he doesn't know the tingles and feelings you keep between a smile and a sigh.

"Love looks different for everyone but it should have the same concept."

"And what concept is that?"

You turn to him, smiling. "That if you truly love someone, you can try anything. Love doesn't demand things that you do for the simple reason that you love the person enough."

"Love can be complicated," he says, and he's not arguing, not really. He isn't begging for you to understand. He is simply saying.

"Love can," you agree. "As most things are complicated. But it doesn't have to hurt."

It's a boundary line, the way he blinks, remembering why you're here together, why he gets to touch you in intimate ways, why he gets to pay for clothes, why you spend this time with him. A jolt. A shock.

You don't press and he doesn't retreat. The line exists not just to remind, but to stabilise any projections. Any dangerous tones.

You simply smile, nodding at the time. "Dinner date, babycakes. We can't be late for reservations."

"We can be late for a few minutes," he says, remembering echoes of how Alys sometimes got late. It isn't really her fault; there are days when she's too busy at the law firm, too busy with a meeting or two, or still finishing up her makeup because she doesn't like going to dinner in her work clothes.

"Sure, but we're here together and I know how much you hate being late." You snort.

"I don't hate it."

"Sure, but you got that eye twitch you do when you're annoyed," you tease, tapping your own eye before you wink at him and skip away.

For the past few days since the bar incident, by your suggestion, you and Aemond had pour out the intricacies of how Aemond and Alys' relationship worked whilst hiding your true intention of making him see its faults and corners, and at the same time, continue on with the charade of dating him.

It's been a packed week or so, going to your shifts at the bar, meeting with Cregan once and a while (boy had been busy, and he found the entire thing with Aemond incredibly hilarious).

You answered no question mark in regards on who the hand was, only sent a winky face or a kiss blowing emoji. You continue to post minute representations of your no-longer-single status in brief intervals, making sure that you never name him. You never publicly give him a recognisable body.

But for those that knew, knew.

It really wasn't that hard. There were only so much pale, toned hands, so much body builds you can hide with your hand covering his general face that you can hide without people making smart guesses. There wasn't a lot of pale, toned people around you after all.

But in your refusal to name him, the question continues, and so does Alys silent observation of every post. The only story she had liked had been the very first one.

You often wonder what she thinks, before your mind is devoured once again with everything else.

To be fair, as often as you had both been seeing each other lately— and it has been the most often you have been seeing of him — there were still things outside of Aemond and Helaena plans. And Aemond still had UNI to focus on.

"You know, I often forget you're still in university," you say now, comfortably warm in Aemond's car. All fresh leather seat and crisp new car smell despite knowing that Aemond's had this unit now for at least a year. He maybe rich, but he knew what he liked and took care of them.

He shoots you a quizzical look before looking back at the road. The city is bathed in a gorgeous stream of oranges and pinks, tie-dying glass buildings and bustle of city roads. When you look at him, you smile softly at how pretty the light hits him.

"Why is that? Do I look that young?"

"Your vibe is so old man on a nine to three, cigar breaks by four, and whiskey sours by seven pm."

He makes a disgruntled sound at the back of his throat. You laugh. "I would like to think it's my altruistic classicism. A timeless endeavour."

"Sure, old man," you tease then sigh. "Reality is, I'm so much older than you. I'm hanging out with a child. On my free day. Is this what it means to reach low status?"

"I am not a child." His reply is sharp, cutting, almost offended.

"You're in college."

"And of legal age? You're only four years older."

"Oh, right."

"What?"

You smirk at his dark look. "You like 'em way older."

His face, much like his gaze, heats up. You're imaging it when the ride turns red, the car slows to a stop, and he is looking at your lips. Surely it was, because you got transfixed with the way his tongue darts out to wet his lips. A slow, tantalising movement.

It feels like an eternity stretched within three seconds. The light turns green and both of you turn away.

Well, there's been that. A few times. But it doesn't mean anything. Aemond is in that transition of trying to rid himself of bad habits, of being freshly single once again, and you know he and Alys get in on frequently. This had been a conversation a few days back, on a couch, smell of grease and pizza around the room while Murder She Wrote played in the background.

"Wait, wait, wait." You sat up, folding your legs underneath your butt, and giving Aemond your full attention with a little 'o' in your mouth.

"Wait!" Helaena calls playfully from her sway to the bathroom. "Imma pee!"

"Take care, my beloved!" you call back, before turning to Aemond with a big, Cheshire grin.

"Can we not dwell on it?" He's flustered but is trying not to show it, looking back to the TV as if he understood why there's a body on the plane.

But wine has been had, spilled and shared, and it's enough for you to grab that fluster and the topic, and smirked.

"No, no, we will talk about it. We shall! We must! Do you mean to tell me that by the end of it, most of the time, you two were just boning? Is Aemy, one of my favourite people in the world, a Valyrian Sex God?? Oh my god??"

"I am not a Valyrian Sex God."

"Okay, girly pop, please." You raised a hand in a 'talk to the hand' motion and he was smiling at you, entranced and frustrated. "Women talk, Aemy!"

There was a flush and Helaena came back. Wine did things to Helaena, and she was stumbling and giggling as she flopped behind you, turning around and encasing you in a koala hug.

"Women talk, baby bro." Helaena nodded sagely. "Even I try not to listen, they talk, alas."

"And Alys has said those hips—"  You pointed a j'accuse finger at his hips, then his mouth. "—and that tongue has done things that can make the Maiden blush."

Helaena groaned behind you're back, a slew of 'ew's escaping her mouth. And you were still being playful, teasing, but Aemond was looking at you, though scarlet, with a deepened expression.

And at that moment, both of you were thinking the same thing.

His chin brushing your thighs, your sighs like music to his ears, and his tongue making you scream.

Warmth pooled, twin expressions share a gaze. Hunger, desire, shame.

The connection was destroyed when Helaena abruptly jolted and fell down the carpet. Because she was holding onto you, you got pulled with her.

"Are you okay??" Aemond asked.

Hel gasped. "I thought I saw Bobby. I think I squished Bobby."

You shook your head. "You didn't. Bobby is spry. Bobby knows to move away."

Aemond's confused face peered down at both of you. "Who's Bobby?"

"The local spider that lives here."

"Of course." And he smiled.

You smiled back.

Helaena giggled beside you but when you ask her, she only shook her head.

And the silence that lulls in the car is like both of you reaching the very same memory and having to sit through the stifle of that drunken interaction about his sex life. He coughs, you let out a breathy giggle.

"I should admit something," he says, parking the car in front of the restaurant. Dusk is settling, sunset in bright red and orange turning to a cool blue and pretty lavender— and when you turn to him after getting out of the car, coddling your jacket close to your body, he looks nervy. Apologetic, almost.

"What? What'd you do?"

He bites his bottom lip. "I know something about this restaurant."

"I would assume. You chose it." Your eyes narrow, giving the black-out floor to ceiling windows a look. The Painted Table is lit up in a scrawled font on top of it.

You step inside, not bothering to turn to his call of your name, and is submerged by the restaurant's vibe. It's a darkened place with meaningful lighting but a casual air, a bar on the side, and an upbeat jazzy music dancing in the air — it looks good. The place smelled delicious.

Nothing about it sparked familiarity to you, but the anticipation from that look of guilt on his face brought you to a high-strung, so when he calls your name again, just behind you, you turn.

"Is this where you had your first date with Alys?"

He shakes his head. "No. No, but—"

"Aemond?"

The voice is familiar, and you don't stop enough to think before you're turning to the low, clear voice that's just a hint of husky, and Alys' green eyes go wide at your appearance.

She's dressed nice, dressed to go out in a black dress dipping low and fabric tangled around her body to show off her curves. Her inky hair was swept to one side and her mouth was bloodred.

Alys Rivers, owner of Aemond's firsts. The woman he seemingly can't let go off.

You smile. It feels fake. "Oh. Hi Alys."

Her shock staves off into a genuine smile that makes you guilty. "Hi, my love. I see you two are together. Always attached at the hip. Dinner?"

Before you nod— or maybe strangle Aemond — he comes forward, taking your hand in the process and lacing it. He's looking at her as if he's setting a challenge when Alys' eyes fall on your intertwined hands.

"Yes," he says. "We are."

"Well... that's good. This place is great. I—" Someone calls her name, she turns back. You shoot Aemond a withering glare you hope conveys how much you're going to beat his ass after this. She turns back, smiling still. There's a pinch between her eyes but it's gone by the third blink. "Well, I have to go. I'll see you both soon, okay?" She turns to you, stepping forward, not minding the Targaryen beside you. "Especially you. We haven't hung out in a while."

"That's true, I've missed you, you crazy witch." And she laughs and you smile, because you genuinely consider Alys to be one of your friends. Not maybe as deeply as Helaena's, or as close, but Alys was an amazing person and you enjoy her company.

Plus, right now the one you're angry about it solely the man holding your hand.

Alys turns to Aemond, and he stiffens. Between them is a complicated look. So many things unsaid, before her smirk softens. "It's nice to see you too, Aemond."

And she turns away, walking back to her table, to her date, when you tug him with you to the bar. As you order a dry martini, he speaks. Calm and soft.

"You're mad at me."

"You knew she was going to be here." You turn to him, arching an eyebrow, hating the way your chest pangs. "You stalked her and brought us here because you wanted to use me."

He shifts, face crumples at the word 'use' and calls your name in a plead. "It's not like that."

You snort, taking a sip of your drink when it arrives. "Don't lie."

"Okay. Yes, I did. I... I made an impulsive decision because I wanted to see how she could go on a date as if we were nothing." Bitterness cripples his words, the smirk on his lips is ironic and darkened in hurt. Your heart hurts for him, but you can't give him a pass just like that. He hurt you too.

"You could've told me."

He raises an eyebrow. "You would be okay with this?"

Your own smile is ironic and darkened by hurt. "You're already using me, Aemy. That was the deal I agreed, for Hel. It would at least lick the wound to have been in the know, and not, you know, got shot in the face with it."

At the first part of your tirade, he looked like he wanted to argue with the using part, but the realisation weighs him because it is true. To him, he is using you. And it's a cheap shot on your part because you were also doing this for him, out of your own free will.

You sigh when he turns away, guilt dipping low.

"You're such a dumbass."

He hums in agreement.

You're aware of a gaze from the tables, somewhere in the ocean of jazz music and chatter, Alys is looking, and you kinda wanna make this good for him. You were already here after all.

Your hand reaches his jaw, sliding across his neck until you reach his nape and fingers tangle with the baby hairs there. His hair had been wrapped into a bun. Sleek and fluffy.

He turns to you, to your touch, in shock. "What are you—"

"Try not to look so surprised," you whisper, stepping close to him until your noses are bumping. "We're supposed to be dating."

And then you slant your mouth against his.

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