#my family had a big christmas party every year when i was a kid with some families we were close with :( | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

amentomensmut · 6 months

Note

I've never asked for a request before and i dont have clout to write it myself so i thought id ask since i like some of your Mike stuff but

What about something like reader and Mike are friends and he goes to a wedding her as a favor cause i like the idea that he has like a messy suit, loose tie kind of hot mess vibe and smutty things happen lol I dont have much in mind but the idea of him in a messy suit trying to look cleaned up is just like ...drool idk

Plus One

Mike Schmidt x fem!reader wc: 3.1k+

Summary: You invite Mike to be your plus one at your sister's wedding, but things go wrong during the reception and Mike uses you to take out his frustrations.

Warnings: 18+ CONTENT, okay so like reader and Mike are friends but also its kinda angry sex??? You’ll see. Manhandling (sorta), slight exhibitionism, degrading, praise, dirty talk, finger sucking, fingering (f receiving), unprotected sex (wrap b4 u tap pookies)

Note: oh my GOD this one got away from me and i'm NOT sure about it, I feel like i could’ve written this a bit better but i just started babbling and now we're here. to the person who requested this: THANK YOU. i loved ur idea and him in a suit like makes me drool too omg. i also couldn’t help adding a little angst in here. also so nevry to post this?? so lmk what u guys think! enjoy :)

“Please, Mike. I swear this is the last thing you’ll ever have to do for me!” You plead, trying to reason with the very unimpressed looking man in front of you. You’ve been stuck in Mike's kitchen for the past half hour trying to convince him to be your plus one to your sister's wedding next Saturday. Clearly, your convincing hasn’t been successful so far.

“The last time I did a favour for you was supposed to be the last time.” Mike says with a knowing smirk, and you roll your eyes. A few weeks ago, you went out to a bar with some friends and you may have had a few too many long island iced teas. The owner had forced your hand into calling someone to pick you up, and it was Mike's number you had dialled that night. As he drove you back to your apartment with an unpleasant look on his face, you swore to him that that would be the last favour you'd ever ask of him. How you wish you could take that back right about now.

“Okay, well, I was drunk when I said that. So it doesn't count.” You say with a frown, crossing your arms against your chest like a child who was denied candy.

You can’t really blame Mike for not wanting to go. Your family is…a lot. You love your family, you really do (most of the time). But, they can be judgemental. You were the kid in school who always got the hottest new toys for Christmas, and had big themed parties for your birthday every year. It had never really dawned on you that you were more well off than other kids until you had met Mike. You became friends with Mike when you were both 15. When you first brought Mike over to your house to hang out, you heard your parents whispering about him that night when you were supposed to be in bed. Your parents gossiped about the kidnapping of his brother, the suicide of his mother, and how Mike and his sister were essentially left to their own devices with their father paralyzed and consumed by grief. It made you sick to hear your parents nitpick and discuss Mike's life like it was a reality tv show. Your parents never really approved of your friendship with Mike, and they tend to not-so-subtly make that known whenever you make the mistake of bringing him up in a conversation.

“I don’t think that’s how that works. Besides, when your sister offered you a plus one, I really don’t think she had me in mind.” Mike says as he reaches into his fridge for a beer. “In fact, I think she’d prefer you to invite that guy who works at the convenience store and catcalls you everytime you go in, instead of me.” He says, cracking open his beer and offering you a smile before he takes a sip.

“Well now you’re just being dramatic.” You huff as you walk over to the couch in Mike's living room and take a seat. Mike follows you from the kitchen and sits down in his armchair, kicking his feet up on the coffee table. Mike sticks his tongue out at you and you have to restrain yourself from strangling the man. If it were any other wedding you would’ve just gone on your own. However, your family events tend to…take a turn for the worst. Your family's gatherings usually end with drama, and you know that even though it’s your sister's wedding, this will be no different. That’s why you're insistent on bringing Mike as your plus one, so you can have a little support if things go awry.

“Very mature.” You say with a shake of your head, once again rolling your eyes at the rude gesture.

“Listen, I’ll go. But, on one condition.” Mike says, and you sit up straight at his words.

“What’s the condition?” You ask suspiciously, but at this point you think you’d agree to almost anything.

“You babysit Abby for a month,”

“Deal.”

“And do my laundry for a month.” Mike adds.

“That’s two conditions actually, Mike.” You scoff as you get off the couch to leave.

“So you’re inviting the guy from the convenience store then?” Mike teases, knowing he's your only option.

You turn around to face Mike, squinting your eyes at him. God, you hate that cocky smirk he does when he knows he's winning. Bastard.

“Have a suit by Saturday. I’ll be over at 10am.” You sigh, flipping Mike off as you leave through his front door.

“Very mature.” You hear him mumble on your way out.

—-----------------------------------------

“Mike, it looks like you just came back from a bachelor party. Not like you’re going to a wedding.” You say, noting the way Mike’s tie hangs loosely around his neck and the first couple buttons on his white button up are left undone. Mike runs his hands through his hair and you quickly bat them away, scolding him for ruining the hair you had just attempted to fix in the car only moments before you arrived. You can’t deny that he looks handsome. He surely looks charming with the way his gelled hair falls messily on his forehead, and the way his dads old suit fits him almost perfectly.

“Well, hopefully your sister doesn’t mind.” Mike says sarcastically as he adjusts the cuff links on the ends of his sleeves and steps out of your car and towards the church where your sister is getting married.

The first half of the wedding went pretty smoothly. You and your sister have never really been close, so It wasn’t a surprise to you when she didn’t ask you to be a bridesmaid. You and Mike sat a few rows down, occasionally playing footsies under the pew when you’d accidentally bump feet. A kiss was shared between the bride and groom, and everyone left to go to the reception.

You were nervous about the reception, to be quite honest. Mike could tell, and he put his hand on your lower back, resting it there as you both walked into the banquet hall. You nearly faint when you see the sheer amount of people that fill the room. There have to be about 200 people minimum. It seemed like way less in the church, you think.

“I need a drink.” You mumble to Mike, dragging him over to the bar.

Both you and Mike order a drink, and you want to be swallowed by the ground when you hear your mothers shrill, sing-songy voice behind you.

“Darling! I didn’t see you during the ceremony, I thought you hadn’t come.” You turn around and she pulls you into a tight hug, pressing a kiss to both of your cheeks. She pulls away from you and you notice her eyes immediately land on Mike. “Oh, and what a surprise. Mike, how are you and your sister?” Your mother continues, and you bite the inside of your cheek.

You watch as Mike plasters a big, albeit fake, smile on his face and shakes your mothers hand.

“Abby and I are doing well, thank you for asking.” Mike says, and you almost laugh at his cordial tone. Mike sends you a ‘help me’ look and you mouth a ‘sorry’ to him.

“Gosh, it just devastated me to hear about your fathers passing.” Your mother says, clutching her chest like she's in pain, and you think she deserves an Oscar for the way she acts like she gives a shit. “I’m sure it must be so hard for you to provide for your sister alone.” Your mother adds and you watch the smile slowly slide off of Mike’s face.

“Why do you say that?” He asks, and you suddenly regret ever asking Mike to be your plus one.

“Mom-,” You start to say, but she disregards your voice, raising her hand as you speak to stop you.

“Well, I know you struggle keeping a job. You know, not everyone is cut out to raise a child.” If you could see yourself, you’re sure all the colour would be drained from your face. You’re left speechless, mouth half hung open at your mothers words. How could she say that? She doesn’t know him like you do. She doesn’t know how much Mike sacrifices to provide for Abby.

You look over at Mike and his jaw is tightly clenched. You brace yourself for Mike's next words, but they don’t come. Instead, you watch as he excuses himself and walks towards the mens bathroom.

“Well, he woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.” Your mother jokes once Mike is out of earshot.

“Jesus Christ, mom.” You say incredulously as you turn to go find Mike.

You walk towards the bathrooms, entering the men’s restroom with only one thing on your mind. Mike. Luckily the restroom is empty, save for Mike who is leaning over the counter. You slowly reach behind yourself, locking the bathroom door. You begin to step towards Mike, but you stop when you hear his voice.

“Do you think I'm not fit to raise Abby?” Mike asks you angrily, not even turning to look at you. You just stand there like an idiot, reaching down to fidget with the hem of your shirt.

“I-, no. Of course not.” You say, and the music that was loud in the hall, is now only a low hum in the bathroom.

It’s silent for a moment, and you’re not really sure what to say, or how to make things better. You resume taking slow, tentative steps towards Mike and you stop once you’re behind him. You place an uncertain hand on his back, softly rubbing it up and down to comfort him. He lets you touch him and you hear him let out a breath. He turns around to face you and you look up to meet his eyes. He studies your face for a moment, and you inch even closer to him.

“I’m sorry about my mom. That was inexcusable.” You sigh. If you were in Mike’s shoes, you probably would’ve left the reception entirely, and you’re not entirely opposed to that idea right now.

“Your mother doesn’t think I’m good enough for you.” Mike finally says, and there’s distaste in his tone. You don’t say anything, you know it's true. Your family, especially your mother, has never approved of your friendship with Mike.

“Do you think that?” Mike asks you, and you’re just now realising how close Mike’s face is to your own. You look up at him with furrowed brows and shake your head.

“No, Mike. I don’t think that.” You say quietly, and you swear the tension between Mike and you is so thick, it could be cut with a knife. You look down, but you feel Mike's hand grabbing your jaw and forcing you to look back up at him.

“You can’t even look at me when you say it. Pathetic.” Mike seethed. You let out a hushed whimper at his words..

“Sorry.” You say, but your voice sounds small. “I know you are.” He coos, rubbing his thumb back on fourth on your cheek.

“I need you to do something for me, okay?” Mike says, leaning down to speak in your ear. His voice is sweet and the switch in moods makes your head spin.

“Okay.” You nod and Mike pulls away from your ear to look you in the eyes.

“Be fucking quiet.” He says, and he presses his lips to yours. You softly gasp in shock, but quickly kiss him back as he turns you around to hoist you up onto the counter. He grabs both of your knees, opening them to make space for him to stand between your legs. He grips your thighs harshly, and you sigh when he sucks on your bottom lip. He puts one of his hands under your jaw, using it to hold your head in place as he kisses you. His lips are slightly chapped, but you don’t mind. He kisses you with fever, and you can’t deny that you haven’t thought about this.

He kisses down to your jaw and neck, sucking the skin in a way where you know there will be bruises. Jerk. You run your hands through his hair, throwing your head back at the pleasurable feeling of his lips gliding over your skin. The hand that was on your thigh is now trailing up your leg and under your skirt. You clench your legs around his hand and he softly bites your neck, wordlessly scolding you for your actions. You reopen your legs and his hand comes up to make contact with your clothed clit. He rubs slow circles and you let out a soft whimper.

“You gonna let me fuck you?” He slurs in your ear, and his fingers move from your clit to the waistband on your panties, pulling it back and slapping it against your skin. You nod and he’s pulling you off of the counter and flipping you around. Mike bends you over and your chest meets the cold granite. You look in front of you and you can see Mike behind you in the mirror on the wall. He pushes your knee length skirt up and around your hips, and groans at the sight of you bent over for him.

“You okay?” He asks genuinely, running his hands along the sides of your body in a comforting manor.

“Yeah, keep going.” You breathe out and he hooks his fingers into the sides of your panties, pulling them down. You clench around nothing as the cold air hits your cunt. You moan softly as Mike spreads your pussy open with his thumbs, groaning at how wet you are. Without warning, he inserts his pointer and middle finger inside of you, thrusting them in and out. The lewd, squelching sounds of Mike fingering you fill the bathroom and you suck in a sharp breath as his fingers curl up into your sweet spot.

“Apparently your pussy thinks I’m good enough.” Mike says and you look up into the mirror to see his jaw slack, watching the way his fingers move in and out of you. You can feel Mike's erection brushing against the back of your thigh as he rocks his hips with every thrust of his fingers.

“Mike, fuck me.” You whine, and Mike takes his fingers out of you. He brings them to your lips, pushing them inside your mouth, and you can hear him undoing his belt with his other hand.

“Thought I told you to be fucking quiet.” He murmurs and you watch in the mirror as he shoves his pants and boxers down just enough to pull his hard cock out. He removes his fingers from your lips, using your spit as lube to pump his cock a few times before lining it up with your pussy. He slowly inches himself inside of you, pushing you down onto the counter. Your mouth drops open in a silent scream and you hear Mike let out a whine at the feeling of being in you.

He starts to pump himself in and out of you, and he pulls you up by your shirt into his chest to make you watch yourself in the mirror. He fucks into you like he can’t get enough of you. Like being inside of you isn’t close enough.

“What would your mother think? Hm? About her sweet little angel getting fucked in the bathroom?” Mike says in your ear, with a sickeningly sweet tone. It's like he just knows how to push your buttons. You let out a low moan at his words.

“Fuck, I’ve wanted to do this for so long.” Mike adds and your legs shake when he uses the hand that was holding you up to rub your clit. You drop back down on the counter and Mike grabs your hip with his free hand, using it as leverage to bottom out in you with every single thrust. He throws his head back in ecstasy and you clench around him, signalling your impending orgasm.

“You wanna cum?” Mike asks, and his voice is raspy and fucked out. You nod your head ‘yes’.

“No, want you to say it.” Mike says, and you can tell he’s close by his sloppy, less rhythmic thrusts.

“Please, Mike. Please, can I cum?” You beg, your voice hoarse. The filthy sounds of skin against skin echo throughout the bathroom, and if someone has tried to enter the bathroom since you’ve been in here, you’ve been too fucked out to hear it. Thank god I locked the door, you think.

“Cum, baby, Fuck.” Mike chokes out. Your legs shake as you cum around his cock, your orgasm only heightened by the feeling of him filling you up. You bite down on your hand to muffle yourself and you swear to god you hear Mike whimper, pussy drunk as he continues to ride his high thrusting in and out of your sloppy pussy.

After catching his breath, you feel Mike pull out of you and you wince at the feeling of his cum dripping down your inner thighs. You slowly tilt your head up as you watch Mike get some toilet paper to clean himself up. He tucks himself back inside his boxers and pulls his pants up. You flinch a little as you feel him come up behind you, cleaning you up with more toilet paper.

“Sorry, was I too rough?” He asks softly, looking at you through the mirror and you shake your head.

“No, just sensitive.” You say as Mike finishes cleaning you. You pull your panties back up, letting your skirt fall back over your legs. Your knees buckle a little bit as you try to stand straight and Mike rushes over to you, lending you a hand.

“You know, I actually think you’re one of the only people who genuinely thinks I am good enough.” Mike says, and you look up at him.

“Of course I do. I always have.” You say softly, gently touching Mike’s cheek.

#smut #mike schmidt #josh hutcherson #josh hutcherson smut #fnaf #fnafmovie #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt smut

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whorekneecentral · 7 months

Text

Miss Me, Miss Me

Ruben Dias x Stones!Fem!Reader

Warnings: fwb!ruben, jack and reader are besties, alcohol and the consumption of, kyle is always annoying her, teasing, a strip tease according to reader, finger sucking, oral (f!receiving), overstimulation, fingering, orgasm denial, the use of 'whore' in a sexual/degrading context, penetrative sex (P in V ), big brother john is not having it.

Word Count: 2,952

Author's Note: this one is written solely for my pookie, that's also why ruben is so early on in this series lmao - all of these things are shit she'd eat up so pooks and everyone else, please enjoy :)

merry smutmas series

Your brother holds his annual Christmas party and you’re forced to spend the afternoon with the one person you had been avoiding all season but tis’ the season you guess.

Will they or won't they was the tagline for your relationship - if you could even call it that- with Ruben.

You had recently moved to Manchester to be closer to your older brother and your niece and nephew. You had gone to every home game you could and over the course of the season, you fell into a bit of a pattern with the Portuguese defender.

It was innocent enough at first, you two were friends who occasionally hooked up to relieve whatever stress you were having but over the years, it turned into more. Feelings got involved and it got messy so because of that, and for your brother's sake - despite him not knowing, you pulled away from Ruben.

It was never your intention to make things messy.

You hadn't seen Ruben face to face in weeks, if not months. You had still gone to games but you simply went for your brother and then left afterwards, not hanging around too long.

Ruben had a hold over you; you knew if you hung around him too long, you'd just end up in his bed again. That was the last thing you wanted.

Today was unavoidable though.

John was hosting his annual Christmas party at his place; old friends, a few of the boys from his time at Barnsley as well as his teammates and their families from Man City filled his house.

You were somehow, always on kid duty. You were in the room with a bunch of kids; Kevin's, John's, Phil's, Ederson's and a few others that you had no idea who they belonged to.

"Settle down," you tell them, trying to get them off the sugar rush to watch a movie. You tried to rock your nephew in one arm while you switched on the tv, the kids shouting 400 different movie titles all at once.

You huffed and your nephew began to cry just as you tried to ask which one they really wanted to watch but someone opened the door. Jack smiles at you, taking the remote from you when he sees how flustered you are.

He worked a miracle, getting them to quiet down enough for you to calm the baby and to be able to put on a movie for them. You sighed, sitting on the bean bag with the baby as the kids watched Finding Nemo.

Jack sits next to you, rubbing the baby's hand. "I heard the noise, figured I'd come check before they killed you," he whispered, making you chuckle.

"You're a lifesaver, Jack, really. You're good with them too, you and Sasha ever think of.."

"No," he laughed, shaking his head. "I mean, at least not yet."

You nod, smiling. "You'd be wonderful parents.. but you should go join the party, I'm okay in here."

"You're sure?" He gets up and you nod. "Go on, I'll come out in a bit." Jack smiles, nodding before he walks out and closes the door behind him.

It was about an hour later that Finding Nemo ended and the kids went looking for their parents. Those with kids ended up heading out, saying their goodnights before the party actually picks up.

You make your way into the kitchen to find Jack looking for something. "Missing something?" You asked, picking up a glass.

"Your brother said he had shot glasses somewhere?"

"Check the bottom cabinet, it should be in there. What are we drinking?" You asked, setting your empty glass back down.

"Whatever will get us drunk fast." He laughs and you smile, "you're just like me," you nudged his shoulder, reaching for the bottle of tequila on the counter.

Jack lines the empty shot glasses on the tray you found, letting you fill them up. The man picks one up before handing another one to you. "To.. the holidays!" He shrugs, tapping his glass to yours before you two down the shots, and two more rounds after that.

You send him on his way, the man dancing his way over to his girlfriend. You on the other hand, picked up the tray and made the rounds, offering shots to all of those who wanted them. Eventually, you find your way to the living room, the music playing in the background as some people danced and the others chatted.

"Pebbles!" Kyle shouts, his hand in the air to call you over. You roll your eyes, walking over to the group of men by the couch. "How many times have I told you not to call me that, walks?" You laughed.

Kyle puts an arm around your shoulder, giving it a squeeze. "You're pebbles cause Johnny is Stones and you're the little one!"

You laughed, shaking your head. "Very original, Kyle. Anyone want a shot?" You offered, holding the tray out.

John takes one, passing another one to Ruben who you've yet to look at. Kyle grabs one for himself and you go to walk away but your brother grabs your arm, bringing you back. John's arm is over your shoulder now, pulling you into his side.

"Have one with us! You're grown up now, aren't you?" He teased, nudging you to take a shot with them. You and John were only a few years apart; he was 29 and you were 24.

You nod, picking up a shot glass. "Cheers!" Kyle shouts over the music, the 4 of you tapping your glasses together before downing the contents.

Some of the tequila ended up on your fingers during the toast, your finger instinctively ended up between your lips and you don't miss the feeling of Ruben's eyes on you. Looking up, your eyes meet his and you move your hand.

"Can I go now?" You asked your brother, and he nodded before kissing your temple. "You're free to go. Go eat something before you feel sick though."

"Should take your own advice, Stones." You tell him and he tosses you a glare. "Whatever, pebbles."

Kyle and John laugh at the use of the nickname and you flip them both off, laughing as you walk away.

The night turned out to be good, you ended up hanging out with Jack and Sasha for a bit before Kyle pulled you to dance with him. He was telling John he knows how to waltz, he just needed a good partner. You were confused as to what made you qualify as a good partner but you went along with it.

At this point, everyone had left and whoever was left, was drunk as fuck and on the verge of passing out.

You slowly make your way upstairs, you have just put away the leftovers and locked the front door for the night. You walked into your room for the night, unzipping your dress as you bent over to pull some pjs out of your bag.

The knob turns and then the door unlocked, someone steps in. "Hello, what the fuck? I'm changing-" you freeze when you turn around to see who it is.

Ruben stood by the door. "It's just me."

"Okay and?" You look at him, confused as to why he's in your room. "Just because it's you, doesn't mean that gives you a right to be in here."

"It's nothing I haven't seen before, love." He smiles at you and you resist the urge to roll your eyes when he says that.

"Fuck off, will you?" You turn away from the man, your back to him as you went to get changed for bed.

Ruben doesn't take no for an answer; in life and on the pitch. He walks over to you, "don't be like that, y/n. You know I miss you," his hand rests on your hip, pulling you to him.

It was so easy for him - your mind is screaming no but your body's betraying you, giving into him before you could stop yourself.

"You don't miss me, Ruben. Shut up." You whispered, the man lowered his lips to your neck. A trail of kisses from the base of your neck up to your jaw, you're certain there's red marks all over your neck from his beard scratching on you.

Your hand instinctively reaches for his face, your palm's warm against his skin; there your body goes, betraying you again.

"I miss you, I do," he whispers against your skin, his hand sliding between the two of you, from your hip to your back. The fact that your dress was unzipped gave him free rein, his fingers running along your spine, finally resting on the curve of your spine.

"Rubes-" you breathe, feeling him suck on the sensitive spot on your neck. "We can't."

He nods, "we can."

"John could walk in."

The thought made Ruben chuckle. Yes, it'd be a mess, it would get both of you in a lot of trouble but the fact that you, at your grown age, were scared of your older brother catching you with his friend, was funny to him.

"John's passed out drunk on the couch, sweetheart. No one's coming, it's just me and you."

You turn to face the man, Ruben's chest to yours; the first few buttons of his shirt undone, the black fabric tight on his arms and the sleeve were rolled up to his elbows. Was he always such a slut or did he only recently become one?

He's already pulling the straps of your dress off your shoulders and you don't stop him, letting it fall to the floor and pool around your ankles.

Ruben's hands reach for your face, cupping your jaw. "C'mon baby, I miss you." He whispers into the quiet room, his lips ghosting over yours.

Hands wrapping around his wrists, "I miss you too." You admit, giving into him. You pull Ruben into you, kissing him.

It doesn't take long, the two of you stumbling back to the bed. Ruben ends up on top of you, your legs wrapped around him as he moves you to lay properly. He pulls away from your kiss and your wandering hands, earning him a pout.

"Why'd you stop?" You groaned, Ruben smiles at you whining as he stands, undoing the rest of the buttons on his shirt before taking it off.

You propped yourself up on your elbows, looking at the man. "Mhm, all for me?" You raised your eyebrows, making him laugh.

"Everything's for you, baby. It always is." He tells you, dropping to his knees in front of you.

The words and his actions made your head spin, you were constantly swooning over the man and today was no exception.

Ruben's lips were soft, the faintest of kisses trailed up from your calf to your thigh and he let your leg hang over his shoulder as he pulled you to the edge of the bed. You’ve propped yourself up on your elbows to look at him and Ruben drags his fingers up your thigh, moving to your clothed pussy.

"Please," you mumble, looking down at the man. Ruben smiles, "not in the mood for teasing, sweetheart?"

"Fuck you Ruben," you groaned, dropping back into the mattress when he pulls the panties to the side, his eyes fixed on your pussy but his hand reaches up, pushing two fingers in your mouth. He didn’t have to tell you, your tongue laps over his fingers.

“Taught you well,” he smiles, pulling his fingers away from your mouth.

He gives you no warning, pushing his fingers into you. The sound leaving your mouth was like heaven on earth to him.

His fingers curl upwards, your back arching at the feeling.

“Rube, please.” Your hand reaches down to wrap on his wrist but he swats your hand away, managing to pull both to rest on your stomach and his free hand over your hands, pinning them to your stomach.

Your eyes fixed on the man between your legs, looking at him in awe. Something about Ruben fascinated you; you could never put your finger on it but he was always an object of fascination, of desire. Everything about him made you want him, you couldn't explain the attraction.

It just made sense to you.

Your hips buck when you feel his tongue against your clit, your hand gripping on his hair.

Ruben knew you like the back of his hand, even with the time apart. Something didn't change and the way your hips buck, it's your way of saying you want more, who was Ruben not to give into you?

His fingers curl upwards once again and he glances up to see your head tossed back into the mattress, eyes fluttering shut.

Between his fingers and his tongue, your orgasm was teetering on the edge; he knew that much.

Ruben pulls his hands away, the sticky fingers on your thighs. A whimper leaves your lips at the loss of fullness.

"What the fuck?" You groaned, an arm over your face. If you looked at Ruben right now, you might kill him.

The clink of his belt gets your attention - maybe you'd finally get what you wanted.

Ruben scoots you back, getting on the bed, on top of you. He leans down, his lips over yours and you reach up, a hand on the back of his neck to pull him down for a kiss; you can taste yourself on his lips. He lifts your leg, resting on your hip before he lines himself up with you.

The way the tip of his cock rubbed against you and the fact that you were already on the edge from before was enough to make you beg.

"Please, Ruben."

"Please what?" He looks down at you, smiling sweetly.

Your bottom lip pulled between your teeth. "Ruben," you whined, lifting your hips towards him. "Please, fuck- god just fuck me already."

Ruben smiles, "those words really shouldn't be in the same sentence, you know." He tells you, pushing into you. You moan, ignoring his words at the moment.

Your hand wraps around his bicep, your manicured nails digging into his skin. He didn't mind the pain, especially if it was your doing.

Your legs wrapped around his waist, Ruben's thrusts were slow and deep- you can feel him everywhere, his hands, his lips, his touch. Everything about Ruben was consuming; he knew that and he loved it.

In some sick way, he loved watching you fall in love with him all over again, seeing the effect he had on you.

Ruben pulls your legs back up to his hip. “Fuck,” you breathe, his thrusts faster and harder.

How you wished you could scream his name right now.

His hand drops between the two of you, rubbing your clit; matching the pace of his hips. Your head falls back into the pillows when he hits the spot he was looking for. His fingers that were previous on your clit now shoved into your mouth to muffle the sounds tumbling from your lips.

Ruben leans down, his lips next to your ear; “you have to be quiet, you don't want everyone to know what a whore you are, do you?”

You mumble something along an okay, your hips bucking, telling him you want more. He holds you, managing to flip you two over so that you're on top and his cock is still buried in you.

He lets you take over, setting the pace and using him for your own pleasure.

“Ruben, god-” you mumble, your hand tangled in his dark hair as you bounced up and down.

"Not quite," he whispers, pulling you down to kiss along your neck. Ruben's hand behind your neck to pull you down for a kiss. “Want you to cum for me.”

His arms wrap around you when you drop against him, your face buried against his shoulder, biting down to muffle the sounds. “Good girl,” he hums, rubbing your back. "Mhm I love you." He whispers into your shoulder.

You huff, "shut up, don't ruin this for me." Ruben laughs, "whatever you say, baby. I do."

"I'm so thirsty," you get off of him, yawning.

Ruben looks over at you, "you want another round?" You roll your eyes, "not what I meant, you freak."

You get up, pulling on his shirt and a pair of shorts. Ruben lays in bed, watching as you buttoned it up. "Don't look at me like that." You tell him and he laughs, "like what, love?"

"Like you want to fuck me."

"I just did," he smiles. You roll your eyes again, something you did often in his presence. "I'm going to get water," you tell him before heading down the stairs.

When your brother hears the creaking on the stairs, he sits up, rubbing his eyes before looking over in your direction. "Y/n?"

"Johnny?" You freeze, looking at him.

"Whose shirt is that?" He asks and you look down at the black button up. "Uh, mine."

John nods, dropping down onto the couch once again. You grab the bottle of water, walking back into the living room to toss the blanket over your brother. You lean down, kissing his head before turning to head back towards the stairs.

He reaches out from under the blanket, grabbing your hand to stop you. "You better get Ruben out of my house before I get up, or I'll kill him."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," you tell him and your brother lets go of your hand, a sly smile on his face. "Yeah, okay. Maybe you two should shut up next time, or don't do it in my house? Perhaps don't wear a shirt that reeks of his cologne."

"Shut up, go back to sleep," you push him back into the couch before walking away.

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#ruben dias #ruben dias smut #ruben dias x reader #john stones x reader #football x reader #football x you #football x y/n #football smut #merry smutmas xoxo

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steddieasitgoes · 6 months

Text

@steddiemas Day 21 Prompt: Home and/or Dinner

I honestly think this is my favorite one yet!

Tags: Pre-Relationship Steddie, Eddie Munson Has A Crush On Steve Harrington, Holiday Parties, Overstimulation (the bad kind, not the fun kind), Steve Harrington Is A Sweetheart

wc: 2215 | Rating: G

Read on ao3 | ao3 collection

The holidays were always a quiet affair at the Munsons.

A few gifts, wrapped in week-old copies of the Hawkins Post, placed under a modest tree from Merrill’s. Wayne’s famous (well, famous to Eddie) chocolate chip pancakes in the morning with a questionable amount of syrup and a reheated casserole from Ms. Jenkins down the street for dinner.

No church or family plans, just the two of them, a couple of beers (root beer in Eddie’s case until a few years ago), and whatever movie Eddie had insisted they watch before he turned the TV over to Wayne and the Christmas basketball game.

It was good. Great, even.

Eddie loved his holiday traditions with Wayne.

He did, but sometimes he’d catch sight of Ms. Jenkins welcoming her brood of kids and grandkids into her cluttered trailer or spot Gerald loading the passenger seat of his pickup with toys for his nieces and nephews and wonder what it would be like to have a big family to spend the holidays with.

Turns out, it’s loud.

So, very, loud.

The Hopper-Byers’ new house is bursting at the seams with guests. The entire We Survived The End of the World gang is here along with some guests — Wayne and Ms. Henderson. Mr. and Mrs. Sinclair stopped by for about an hour before excusing themselves to finish up holiday shopping (said in a hushed tone to not ruin Santa for Erica — as if she still believes, Eddie had thought). But mostly it was just the usual gang.

Eddie learned, in the form of Dustin’s “you’re being stupid” voice that it's become a tradition for them. Gathering a week before the holidays to pig out on food and dessert, play games, and exchange presents. Celebrate the year coming to an end and them making it.

As the apocalypse gang grew every year, the celebration got bigger and bigger until they were tripping over each other inside of the Byers house. That is, until this year when Joyce and Hopper got their shit together and finally moved into a decent-sized house on the outskirts of Hawkins. It’s no Loch Nora mini-mansion, but it works for them — even if it's still a tight fit when everyone is together.

Murray, Joyce, and Ms. Henderson are gathered in the kitchen — arguing over when to take the turkey out of the oven and the proper milk-to-cheese ratio in macaroni casseroles. A small radio sits in the corner, attempting to play Christmas music over the static. That’s the con about living farther out, Eddie supposes.

El and Max have claimed a fold-out table on the outskirts of the kitchen where they’ve been decorating cookies for hours, it seems. El’s simple and artistic, Max’s a chaotic mess of spilled-over frosting and candy sprinkles. (Eddie’s stolen one from each and thinks they’re both delicious much to their delight.)

The den’s been co-opted by Hopper and Wayne, and the TV volume turned all the way up (“We can hear just fine! It’s you kids that are making it hard,” Hopper gruffed when one of them pointed out the volume). They’re switching between basketball games while nursing beers and pretending not to hear the argument going down in the kitchen.

Jonathan and Argyle are hiding out in his room — smoking and trying to drown out the noise with whatever record he managed to pick up from the store he’s working at. Eddie thought about joining him, but the scowl he earned from Wheeler Jr. had him changing course.

The rest of them have taken refuge in the spacious basement. It’s too chaotic for Dungeons & Dragons so the boys and Erica have taken to playing an intense game of Monopoly. The threats he’s heard hurled at each other have been clever and downright terrifying. Way worse than anything they’ve uttered at his DM table. Those heathens.

For some reason, Steve’s taken on the role of the banker. Something about Dustin skimming from the top last time he held the role and played. Now, house rules say the banker has to be an NPC, and well, Steve fits the bill. Unfortunately, he seems to be struggling with the math of it all judging by the scoffs and annoyed eye rolls thrown his way. Eddie would go help, but he doesn’t think he’d be much help. Godspeed, Steve.

Nancy and Robin are there too, sprawled out on the couch and lost in their own little world. Occasionally Robin gets up to flip the record on the record player, but mostly they sit together, gossiping and talking about who knows what in hushed voices. Eddie might understand every little thing about dungeons and hobbits, but girl talk? That’s an alien language if he’s ever seen one.

As for him? Well, he’s hovering in the middle of it all. With Steve occupied, he’s taken on his babysitter role of sorts. Racing up and down the stairs to fetch whatever snacks the gremlins demand, rustling Max and El’s hair on the way in, and nodding at Hopper and Wayne on the way out. He narrowly escapes being sucked into being the official judge for the impromptu Murray vs Ms. Henderson pie off and almost makes it up to Jonathan and Argyle’s room before Dustin is bellowing for him.

It’s fun, mostly.

Getting to see everyone relaxed and having fun. A far cry from the last time they were all together like this back in March.

In some ways, it's what Eddie’s always dreamed it would be like. Being part of a big family, a cog in a never-ending machine of noise and organized chaos.

But it’s also becoming a lot.

Lucas is about to put a hotel on Boardwalk that has everyone shouting and throwing their own pieces at his head. Steve’s trying to keep them under control but it's a losing battle. One that pulls Robin and Nancy from their own little world to join the chaos.

And then there’s even more noise.

A crash from upstairs, the blaring voice of Joe Strummer coming from Jonathan’s room, more shouting, Wayne and Hoppers stopping, and giggles from Max and El.

Suddenly all Eddie can hear is noise.

It gets louder and louder and louder until finally, he’s certain his eardrums are going to explode.

Taking the stairs two at a time, he pushes through the chaos going on upstairs (dropped pies and frosting stains and shouting at TVs) and makes his way onto the wrap-around porch.

The crisp cold air is the first thing that hits him. Like an idiot, he ran out of the house without a coat or scarf or hell, even the warm hat Ms. Henderson knitted for him earlier in the month. He shivers, rubbing his hands up and down his bare arm as he tries to take deep breaths, watching as his warm breath twirls in the breeze.

As his body adjusts, so do his ears. He can still hear the chaos going on inside, but it's muffled now. Distant. He can hear himself think for the first time in hours and for once, it’s nice.

The snow is falling in slow but steady flakes, dusting the backyard in the white. Or, it should be white, but the hoard of Christmas lights decorating the house illuminates the backyard in reds and greens. It’s a real Christmas wonderland out there, now.

Reaching into the pocket of his jeans, he pulls out a pack of cigarettes and his trusty lighter. The first inhale of nicotine warms him from the inside out, sending the goosebumps packing as he focuses on his steady and slow inhale and exhales.

At some point he zones out, so focused on the snow falling and the repetitive nature of lifting the cigarette to and from his lips that he doesn’t hear the creak of the door or the heavy footsteps that follow until the intruder is standing shoulder to shoulder with him.

“Figured you might be needing this,” Steve says, hand outstretched with Eddie’s coat.

“Thanks, man.”

They swap, Eddie takes the coat from Steve and Steve takes the lit cigarette from Eddie, keeping it safe while he shimmies his way into the monstrosity that he calls his winter coat. When he’s finally situated in the plaid nightmare, he reaches a hand out ready to take his cigarette back only to find it perched between Steve’s lips.

Oh.

That’s different.

Sure, they’ve smoked together before. Bummed off cigarettes in the ally behind Family Video and in the parking lot of Palace Arcade waiting for the gremlins to be done. But they’ve never shared the same one. Never pressed their lips to the same filter. Felt the dampness of their mouths on their own lips.

“Sorry,” Steve says, lips turning up in a small smile as he removes the cigarette. “Couldn’t help myself.”

Eddie nods, unable to say much else as their fingertips brush when he takes it back. Is it weird if he puts it between his lips right now? Is he supposed to wait a minute? Let Steve’s taste linger for a moment. God, he’s being so weird right now. In the end, he brings the cigarette to his lips and takes the smallest inhale, nearly coughing as the smoke floods his lungs because he’s so distracted by the way the filter feels different now that it’s been in Steve’s mouth — as if that makes any sense.

“You okay? You sort of booked it out of the room.”

“Yeah,” Eddie sighs, before leaning against the banister of the porch. “Yeah, m’good. It just—“

“Got too loud?” Steve supplies, mirroring his position. “I get it. I remember my first holiday dinner. There were a lot less of us in ’83 but shit. It was still so loud.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m a pretty loud son of a bitch.” Eddie’s caught off guard by Steve’s snorting. Stealing a glance, he finds Steve lit up in reds and greens, a smile etched on his face so deep he can see the spot where smile lines are going to emerge in the next ten years, catching the way his eyes already wrinkle in the corners. Fuck, he’s beautiful. “But, uh, yeah, I don’t think I’ve ever been in a house that loud before. Not even when I’m fucking around with the Corroded Coffin boys.”

“Well, I doubt that. Your music is very loud.”

“Uh, yeah, ‘cause it's metal, Steve.”

“So I’ve been told,” Steve says, smiling that soft, private smile again.

If Eddie was braver, he’d close the distance between them and press his lips to his. But if this year has taught him anything, it’s that he’s not. Not really. So he lets a quiet fall between them instead. They continue to stand shoulder to shoulder, passing the dwindling cigarette between them despite the pack in Eddie’s pocket being brand new, and watch as the snow steadily starts to pick up.

“You know,” Steve says, then stops.

Eddie turns, watching the gears tick in Steve’s brain as he decides what to say next. It’s magical watching it all pass on his face — the knit of his brows, his pupils dilating and returning to their normal size, letting the hazel shine through. The way his lips open and close like some gasping fish.

“If it ever gets to be too much, you can tell us. Tell me. Hell, I know I need a break after a few hours with those shitheads. Maybe we could come up with a code word or something.”

“A codeword? That’s might nerdy of you, Steve.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve says, waving his hand through the air as he bites back a chuckle. “But yeah, a code word. It’d be easier to say than “hey it’s too loud and I can’t think” you know. Plus, it would annoy the shit out of Henderson.”

“Well, then. Count me in. You know I love annoying the shit out of that kid. Gotta keep that ego in check somehow.”

They spend the next few minutes going back and forth trying to decide on a word that could work. Steve wants something common — a fruit or a vegetable. Eddie disagrees, saying it has to be something uncommon so they don’t accidentally say it, but common enough that it doesn’t sound weird casually being dropped in conversation.

They wrack their brain, throwing out silly words left and right until there’s a crash from inside. Their heads swivel in tandem toward the source of the noise. A flurry of shadows passes on the other side of the window as Steve shakes his head and sighs.

“Come on,” he says, handing the cigarette back to Eddie. “If we’re not at the table the minute the food gets served, we won’t be eating. The gremlins know no manner.”

Eddie laughs, stubbing out the cigarette on the ashtray precariously balanced on the banister, “Teaching ‘em manners seems like a job for their babysitter.”

“Nah,” Steve snorts. “Maybe one for their Dungeon Master, though.”

Just as the words leave Steve’s lip, there’s a shout from inside followed by another crash.

“Think it might be a job for both of us, actually,” Eddie laughs. “Together?”

“We need all the help we can get,” Steve says. “Together it is.”

#steddiemas #steddie #steddie fic #steddie fluff #steddie ficlet #steddie fan fic #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve fic #steve harrington ficlet #eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fan fic #eddie munson ficlet #eddie fic #stranger things #eddie munson fluff #stranger things fic #dani writes

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topguncortez · 5 months

Text

Baby's First Christmas

Jake & Shy!Wifey Masterlist | Main Masterlist

synopsis: it's Jake and Y/N's first Christmas as parents, and Jake isn't feeling the Christmas spirit like Y/N is.

word count: 2.8k

warnings: bad grammar, fluff

“Why do I have to dress up?” Jake asked for probably the thousandth time since Y/N pulled out the red santa suit, beard and hat.

“Because it’s Alex’s first Christmas and I want him to take a picture with Santa Clause,” Y/N said, curling her hair in the mirror. It was Christmas Eve and Y/N’s sister had invited the whole family to the house for dinner, drinks and gifts. It was Y/N and Jake's first Christmas as parents and she wanted it to be perfect. Alex was only seven months old so he wouldn’t be able to know if anything went wrong or not, but Y/N would know.

“And your dad or Carson can’t but on the ridiculous-”

“No! It has to be you!” Y/N sighed, putting down the hot iron, “Alex won’t sit on my dads or Kayce’s lap. You saw how he acted when we took her to see Santa at the coffee shop.”

“Well he was a bit-” Jake shut up when you gave him a glare through the reflection of the mirror. He knew better than to start an argument with Y/N. Over the past year, her sass started to shine through, and Jake was proud to watch her become more confident with herself. Jake opened his mouth to say something just as Alex let out a cry, “We’ll discuss later.”

Y/N smiled to herself as she finished getting ready for the Christmas party. When she walked out of the bathroom, to the living room of their small on-base house. It wasn’t anything special, but Y/N managed to decorate it to the nines. Jake wasn’t sure where she managed to find all this Christmas stuff, nor where she managed to store it. But it made her happy, and he’d do anything to make her happy.

Y/N’s heart warmed in her chest seeing Jake holding Alex and looking at the ornaments on the tree. Alex was Jake’s twin through and through with big green eyes and light blonde hair. It had been an amazing journey to see how quickly Jake took on to the role of being a father. It kept him up at night thinking about the type of parent he would be. Would he be like his father? Cold and detached, demanding the best of his children at all times. Would his child grow up to hate him for being gone because of the Navy? Would he be around long enough to see his children grow old and have their own children? For those nine months while Y/N was carrying Alex, Jake read every single parenting book he could get his hands on. He asked some of his commanders and warrant officers for advice. None of it really made sense to him, but when he saw his son for the first time, it all became clear.

“Momma is staring at us again,” Jake whispered to Jake and kissed his cheek. Alex placed both his slobbery hands on Jake’s cheeks, a big gummy smile on his face “You ready? It’s cold out, and I don’t want him to sweat in the car seat and then go outside. That’s how kids get sick.”

“I am ready,” Y/N nodded, “I just gotta get the baby bag, the gift for mom and dad, Carson and Jenny, and the cookies for the kids.”

“All of that is in the car and it’s running,” Jake said.

“What would I do without you?” Y/N asked with a smile on her face. She leaned up on her tiptoes and kissed his lips, “Can you put him in the car seat? I’ll grab the Santa suit.”

Jake rolled his eyes as she skipped back down the hall towards the bedroom, “Your mom is crazy,” He whispered to Alex and the little boy turned to face his father, showing him a gummy smile. Rip smiled at his son, kissing his cheek again and then going to put him in the car seat.

The Parker house was decorated from floor to ceiling for Christmas. It was obvious where Y/N got her love and passion for decorating, and it came from her mother. The moment they opened the front door of the house, the scent of fresh baked gingerbread cookies and ham filled the air. Jake had never really cared for big family celebrations but ever since he started coming around the Parker family, he started appreciating them more and more. His family celebrations were always so stiff and about who could brag the most about their latest promotion or accomplishment. The Parkers were all about warmth and happiness about being around one another.

“You can put the Santa suit on after dinner,” Y/N said as they walked through the front door, “While we’re cleaning up and setting up gifts, it will be perfect.”

“Yeah,” Jake said as he set down the carseat.

“Aunt Y/N, you’re here!” Y/N’s nephew, Tate yelled running up to her, wrapping his arms around her waist.

“Hey bud,” Y/N kissed the top of his head, “Have you grown again?”

“Probably,” Carson said, and greeted you with a quick kiss on your head, “Wakes up five inches taller than the night before. Where's the little man?”

“Jake’s got him,” Y/N said, nodding her head over to the living room where Jake was taking Alex out of her car seat, and Clara waiting for her chance at baby snuggles, “She acts like she didn’t just see him yesterday.”

“You know how mom is with her grandkids,” Carson chuckled, “She might’ve gone a tad bit overboard with the Christmas gifts.”

“There’s my favorite daughter!” James said as he walked into the entryway.”

“I’m your only daughter,” Y/N rolled her eyes playfully, hugging her dad.

“Foods ready to be served whenever,” James said, clapping his hands together, “Where’s my grandson?”

Y/N was thankful to have her parents nearby and willing to help out with Alex. She knew that being in San Diego could change at a moment's notice, but she was going to soak up the time that she had here. Jake carefully watched as Clara handed his son off to James. Jake trusted the Parkers, but it was his inner father bear that had him watching every moment that Alex was in someone else's arms.

Slowly everyone made their way to the dining room table, which was decorated and covered with delicious food. Y/N knew her mom probably spent hours making everything and smacking her dad’s hands away from grazing on all of it while helping her. Jake helped pull Y/N’s chair out, while she got Alex situated in the highchair. Jake appreciated that James and Clara let the kids sit at the table with the adults. He knew that his parents would throw a fit if any of their grandkids tried to sit at the head table. The kids were always pushed into the kitchen, where one of the nannies his sisters hired would watch them, making sure they didn’t get too loud.

“So, Tate,” Carson said, taking a sip of his drink and looking up at Y/N with a glint in his eye. He knew of her plan to get Jake into the Santa costume and hopefully telling Tate outloud will help seal the deal, “I hear Santa is coming by.”

“He’s not real,” Tate answered and Jake looked at his wife with a shit eating grin, “I’m not five anymore.”

“See, he’s not five, and Alex is too-”

“You are putting on the damn Santa outfit,” Y/N harshly whispered to him, “If I have to stuff you in it myself, you’re putting it on.”

“I’d like to see you try,” Jake challenged and Y/N glared at him. Carson watched as the small stare down between his sister and Jake was broken up by Alex throwing a piece of bread on the floor. He could see that the whole Santa thing was somewhat bothering her, he knew her well enough to know how much Christmas means to her. Y/N had always been the one to hold onto those childhood dreams and fairytales a little bit longer than the average child. She still wished upon falling stars and believed in happy ever after.

“Act surprised when he gets here,” Carson whispered to his son, “For Alex.”

“Why?” Tate asked, “He’s just a baby.”

“Because it means alot to Aunt Y/N,” Carson said and then cleared his throat, “She really likes Christmas and wants things to be special for Alex.”

When everyone's bellies were full, the family retired to the living room, where they started opening gifts from the large pile underneath the Christmas tree. Y/N sat on the floor with Alex in her lap, helping him tear into the packages that Tate was handing them. He was having more fun sticking the wrapping paper in his mouth than trying to open the gifts. Both Clara and Jenny had their phones out making sure to take pictures to capture the moments. The men all sat back with drinks in their hands, talking about cattle and giving the occasional “oh that’s cool” when it was needed.

“Tate, why don’t you help Alex open the gifts from us,” Jenny said and moved down on the floor next to the kids, “Here, I’ll take him.”

“Thank you,” Y/N smiled at her sister-in-law. Y/N moved towards the couch where Jake was sitting, “I noticed you don’t have the Santa costume on,” She whispered to him.

“There’s no need to put the ridiculous suit on,” Jake said, sipping his whiskey, “She’s not going to remember it.” Y/N clenched her jaw as she looked at the ground, “She’s a baby. It can wait until-”

“It can’t wait!” Y/N yelled and the eyes of her family members looked at her. Y/N sucked in a breath to compose herself and stood up from the floor, “I’m sorry. It’s just. . . its tradition.”

“Y/N,” Jake called out to her, trying to grab her hand as she walked away. He sighed in defeat, running a hand over his face.”

“She believed in Santa until she was about fourteen,” James said quietly, “Might’ve been partially our fault. I suckered Ice into dressing up as Santa and coming to the house.”

Clara chuckled, “She probably knew he wasn’t real, but she’d always act surprised for the kids that were around. It’s just the type of person she is. She believes in things like the tooth fairy and Santa Claus and happily ever after. She has a fairytale soul.”

“I never realized how much it meant,” Jake answered, “I just thought it was something silly that she wanted to do for the kids.”

“Everything that girl does has meaning to it. She just doesn’t do things ‘just because’. You’ll learn that soon enough.”

“C’mere, Alex,” James reached for his baby grandson, “How are you this Christmas? How about we open this gift?” He reached for a box that was wrapped in Hawaiian christmas paper. Alex tore open the box, with help of course, and James lifted the lid, “Oh look, Alex! A pair of your very own aviators!”

Y/N was laying on her childhood bed, staring up at the ceiling where there was once glow in the dark stars that Carson helped her put up. James was livid and worried that they would pull the paint off the ceiling, but Carson assured him that it wouldn’t. The next person in this house who loved Christmas traditions besides you was Carson. The ten year age gap between the two of them, meant that Carson filled in the father figure role when James was gone on missions. There were some Christmases where James spent in the middle of the ocean. Carson would stay up to wrap Christmas presents with Clara, and would write in fancy handwriting ‘To who, from Santa’. He’d also eat the cookies, and leave “snowy” (which was actually flour) footprints by the fireplace as if good Ol’ Saint Nick had actually come down the chimney to leave gifts, even though they lived in southern California.

Y/N thought that overtime, her Christmas spirit would fade, but if anything it got stronger. Maybe it was because she had seen the ugly side of life, and craved the bright cheeriness that came with Christmas.

“Sweets?” Y/N heard Jake’s voice before she saw him. Y/N just sighed and listened to his footsteps walk over to you, “I’m sorry about the Santa stuff.”

“My dad tell you I believed in Santa until I was thirteen.”

“He said fourteen.”

“He’s a fucking liar. My cousin Zach told me on my thirteenth birthday that I can’t believe Santa was real anymore,” Y/N said and sat up from her bed, grabbing one of the stuffed bears on the bed and holding it in her lap, “I should be apologizing to you.”

“For what?” Jake asked, and sat next to her on the bed.

“I know the holidays aren’t your thing,” Y/N said and grabbed his hand. Her nervous habit was playing with his hands, “And I shouldn’t have pushed you so much into doing it.”

Jake smiled sadly at her, and grabbed her hand, bringing it to his lips and kissing the back of it, “The holidays are my thing because they are your thing. They make you happy, and anything that makes you happy makes me happy. Besides, Alex seems to love it.”

Y/N giggled and shook her head, moving closer to her husband. He wrapped his strong arms around her body, “You’re right, Alex won’t remember this. He’s spending more time shoving wrapping paper in his mouth than knowing what's going on.”

“But we will remember,” Jake said and kissed her cheek, “We will remember Alex’s first Christmas and that’s what matters.”

“Thank you,” Y/N said, looking up at him.

“For what, sweets? I nearly ruined this shit.”

“For giving me the best Christmas present ever,” Y/N smiled up at him. He caressed her face and then placed a kiss on her lips. Y/N hummed into the kiss, and ran her fingers through his blonde locks. He moved Y/N in his lap, so she was straddling him, and he laid back against the bed. His hands roamed her body, going down to her hips. Their tongues moved against one another, Y/N being able to taste the whiskey on his tongue.

A knock on the door startled them as Y/N lifted her head up to see Jenny standing in the doorway, “Oh don’t stop on my account,” She had a smirk on her face and Y/N rolled her eyes, “But there’s someone here to see you.”

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows and climbed off of Jake and the bed. Y/N walked down towards the living room and stopped in her tracks seeing,

“Santa?”

“Ho, ho, ho! Merry Christmas!” Santa said, standing in the middle of the living room. Y/N looked at her sister-in-law and Jake.

“Your dad made a call,” Jenny smiled.

“Dad!,” Y/N looked at her father who just shrugged, holding out Alex. She grabbed her child and walked towards ‘Santa’ who was sitting on the couch. Jake looked a bit confused as Y/N gently placed Alex in Santa’s arm, Clara taking pictures of every single moment.

Jake walked over to James, who was standing in the background, “Who did-” Jake asked, but heard Santa speak again, “Iceman?”

James shrugged again, “He lost poker last week.”

Jake shook his head, and then walked towards his family. James let out a breath in relief as he watched his family gather around to talk to “Santa”. Alex surprisingly didn’t cry when he was set on Santa’s lap, probably because he was too distracted by all the movement around him.

“Get together you three,” Clara said, grabbing Y/N’s phone from her, “I’ll take a picture.”

“Jake, sit on the other side of Santa’s lap,” Y/N said and he gave you a deadpanned look, “It’s for the memories, sweetheart.”

“Only for you, honey,” Jake gave her a fake smile as he carefully sat on Iceman’s other knee.

“Don’t break me Hangman,” Iceman whispered, “I can still make you run from here to North Island and back,”

“You wouldn’t-”

“It’s for the kid, don’t be a grinch! Smile!” Iceman said, looking towards Clara with the phone camera pointed at them.

“Okay, smile!” Clara said, “1. . . 2. . . 3!”

Y/N, Jake, and “Santa” smiled at the camera as Alex was still looking up amazed at Santa. Y/N took him from Santa’s lap and looked at the pictures her mother took.

“They’re perfect!” Y/N cheered, “Thank you so much, Santa.”

“No problem! Ho, ho, ho!” Santa said and James led him out the front door.

Jake put his arm around Y/N shoulders, “You know what they say about Mistletoe.”

She looked up above her head to see the green twig hanging above them. Y/N smiled and grabbed Jake’s face, bringing him down to her for a kiss, “Merry Christmas, Mr. Seresin.”

“Merry Christmas to you, Mrs. Seresin.”

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stevesbipanic · 2 years

Text

Based partially off headcanons I've talked about with @steveshairychest and @amoris-no-smut

For the first few years of Steve's life he didn't really care about Christmas. Christmas was some boring adult thing that happened when it snowed. Steve liked the snow, but Christmas was boring, it was wearing a tie and shoes that hurt his little feet and being dragged around a room meeting people he didn't know before being sent up to his room to be quiet.

His first year of kindergarten he was very confused when it grew closer to Christmas. Kids started talking about someone named Santa Claus and presents? Maybe Santa Claus was one of those people his parents made him meet, Steve wasn't good with names. Steve had gotten a present from one of the adults at the party once, it was a small toy truck, maybe that person had been Santa Claus.

Steve knew about Christmas trees, his parents had a big one in their living room for the party, he hadn't ever seen his parents bring reindeer to their party, and why did Santa Claus wear red, that wasn't a suit, they wore suits at the party. He liked snowmen though, he and his new friend Tommy made one in the playground the day before break.

When his mother was dressing him for the party he asked her.

"Mommy, who's Santa Claus, is he coming to the party, did he give me my truck last year?"

"Steven I've told you you're too old to call me mommy, you call me mother remember."

"Yes, ma'am. But is he coming?"

"No, Santa Claus doesn't come to our party."

"Oh."

And that was that.

By the time he started grade school Steve was no longer naive. He knew that Christmas wasn't an adult party for everyone else. Everyone else decorated their tree in silly ornaments as a family. Everyone else got presents and a roast dinner and Santa Claus. Steve didn't get any of that. Maybe Steve wasn't good enough to get that.

Steve didn't care about Christmas once he started high school. Christmas didn't make you popular or captain of the basketball team or get you a girlfriend so who cared. His parents didn't host the party anymore, he's sure they had one somewhere else, they didn't come home enough to have one anymore.

The first Christmas Steve ever had was in 1985. Robin insisted he spent the holiday with them since she knew Steve's parents were away. She didn't know Steve had never had a Christmas. For the first time Steve decorated a tree, he sewer popcorn into strings, he baked and iced cookies, he had a family dinner and felt warm. For the first time Steve got a Christmas present. A soft yellow sweater from Robin who promised not to steal this one. Steve finally understood why everyone loved Christmas.

There was something else that had been nagging at Steve for years that he knew every other kid got. A birthday. He'd been to Tommy's birthday parties as a kid, he celebrated Robin's in November with her. He got the kids a birthday present every year. But he didn't know his.

Eddie had started hanging around Family Video after he graduated. He didn't have any solid plans yet and also wanted to hang out with Robin before she went with Nancy to college. Plus Steve was always there.

"Hey, Stevie my birthday is coming up soon, wanna come over and get drunk with everyone?"

"Course, Eds, wouldn't miss it."

"When's your birthday by the way, hope I didn't miss it already."

"Oh um, you might've."

"I might've?"

"I-I don't know my birthday. My parents never told me, I know I was born in 1966 that's about it."

"You don't know your birthday?" Robin had come back from the backroom and was shocked to learn this information.

"Your parents never had like a party or anything?"

"They didn't even celebrate Christmas properly, Eds, my birthday was hardly a priority."

"Wait, so last year?"

"My first Christmas and it was perfect, Robbie, thank you."

Robin went over to the counter and dialled Nancy's number.

"Nancy Drew we need you!"

Nancy was able to sort through old records and find Steve's birth certificate. The four of them were sat in Steve's living room, envelope in his hands.

"Well, open it sweetheart, when's the big day?"

Steve's hands shook slightly as he pulled out the paper.

"Oh."

"Oh?"

Steve handed Eddie the paper.

"Oh, Stevie."

"Told you they didn't celebrate Christmas properly."

Steven Richard Harrington

Born: 25th December 1966

"Well, there's only one way to fix this, Stevie. We're going to throw you the best Christmas/20th birthday ever!"

And celebrate they did. Together Steve and the party decorated a tree in his living room and hung balloons, baked Christmas cookies and a birthday cake with far too many layers and wonky icing, and under the tree was two gifts from everyone.

"Just because it's Christmas doesn't mean you don't get birthday presents, love."

When Steve cut to the bottom of his cake he pulled Eddie into a kiss and stood under the mistletoe. It was a perfect Christmas and a perfect birthday.

Now Steve really cared about Christmas all thanks to his real family.

#angst and fluff #christmas #stranger things christmas #stranger things #steve harrington #steddie #stobin #poor steve #ficlet #steve centric

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milfjuulpod · 11 months

Text

Christmas In July

req: yes

can you please write one where fem reader has a mutual flirtation with melissa (but neither realize it's for real). Its christmas time and she helps melissa decorate her classroom and/or breakroom for her and Barbara's christmas party thing? Maybe Barbara invited reader to the party- knowing they're both being dumb and like each other- without melissa knowing.

A/N: hello! thank u for sending this request :)) warms my heart. sorry it’s a bit on the short side, but i hope u enjoy! also this gif ;-;

The long-awaited holidays had finally rolled around. It was the last day before break, every teacher and student alike buzzing with excitement. Except you, of course. You were a bit disheartened to leave your Abbott family, even if just for a few weeks. There was one person in particular you would miss a bit more than others, Melissa Schemmenti. The two of you had an interesting dynamic that you weren’t ready to let go of quite yet.

The unrelenting thoughts bouncing around in your head were interrupted by a much softer voice. “Hey sweetheart, what’s got ya thinkin’ so hard over there?” Melissa asked as she walked in with a cup of coffee already. You shrugged instead of answering, and insisted on asking her about her morning.

As the two of you caught up, the rest of the staff filed in. Only Barbara had the nerve, (and honestly, the right), to include herself in you and Melissa’s chitchat. “Well, if it isn’t the two lovebirds. Y/N, what are your plans for celebrating this evening?” She inquired. While you had a puzzled look on your face, Melissa turned to her friend to shoot her a look you had only seen a few times from the redhead. She seemed angry, betrayed perhaps. Not wanting to keep Barbara waiting, you stopped reading into your friend’s expression, and replied. “I have big plans, with a bottle of wine and my couch.”

Before Barbara could continue, the bell rang, and everybody started shuffling out. You felt a hand wrap itself around your arm, and turned to meet the woman once again. “You know,” she said quietly, “Melissa and I have a tradition of dinner here, before we go see our own families. You should join us this year,” Barbara invited you, and left just as quickly as she came. Melissa was next to grab your attention, but instead of grabbing your arm, she wrapped her own around your waist and pulled you into her side.

“Stealing my friends now are ya? What was that about?” She teased. The smell of her perfume engulfed you, distracting you from answering her fully. “You know I would never take Barb, besides, I already have you.” She smiled in response and squeezed your hip before letting go, leaving you a bit flustered in the break room, now alone.

The rest of the day was spent carrying the nerves from earlier. After texting Barbara during your break, you decided to pick up a bottle of wine and a few flower displays. You wanted to make a good impression, maybe Barb and Mel would invite you again next year if it went well. The thoughts of holidays with Melissa started to flood your head. You know she would make the most delicious dinner for the two of you, maybe visit her family too. And perhaps afterwards, Melissa would become overwhelmed with her adoration for you and show you just how special you are to her.

Before your thoughts could get even more carried away, the final bell rang. Funny how fast the day passes when you spend the entire time daydreaming about your coworker. Quicker than you would’ve liked to admit, you ushered the kids out of your classroom. Once everyone had found their parents, and after some heartfelt goodbyes to your students, you walked back to your classroom for the supplies.

The walk to the break room was quiet, halls empty once again. Upon entering, you saw Melissa, there for the same reason. “Oh, hey hon. What are you up to?” She asked. You walked closer to her and into the room fully, wine and flowers in hand. “Barbara invited me to dinner with you guys. Did she not tell you? Should…Should I go?” Quickly you realized Melissa was completely unaware of the invitation that was extended towards you. You slowly started taking steps backwards towards the door again, until Melissa once again was wrapping her arms around your waist.

“No stay, please. I’m glad she invited you here, honestly I was too nervous to do it myself. I’m glad you’re here babe,” Melissa reassured you. You tried not to read too into the pet name slipping off her tongue like it was nothing. Or how warm her skin felt, or how her grip around you tightened with each passing second.

You smiled, and muttered a quiet ‘thank you.’ It was impossible not to get lost in her eyes, you weren’t ready to pull away from them—or rather, her—just yet. “I see you brought wine, smart thinkin’. We usually run out pretty quick,” Melissa pointed out, loosening her wrap around you and backing up a bit to give you space. You tried not to miss her touch so badly. “Yeah, and I got flowers too. Maybe for the centerpiece?”

The two of you started decorating the break room together, transforming it from its usual scene to the perfect Christmas set. Melissa’s phone lit up on the table, and based on her expression, it wasn’t a good notification. “Is everything okay?” You asked.

“Yeah….yeah. Barb just canceled so, I guess it’s just us two,” She answered, and maybe it was the lighting, or maybe it was the nerves, but you swore her cheeks turned the lightest shade of pink. “Well, let’s get started then.”

Melissa started making a plate with food, and before you could grab your own, she handed the full plate to you, and started making another for herself. She was like this the rest of the night, taking care of you when you didn’t ask. You didn’t have to, Melissa just knew somehow what you were feeling and what you needed. The wine had started to settle and left a warm feeling in your stomach, only growing hotter the longer you spent with the redhead.

“As much as I love spending time with you Mel, I think it’s about time we call it.” You said solemnly, looking at the time on your phone. Doing so made you miss the frown that Melissa sported, saddened at the thought of saying goodbye. The two of you stood up to start cleaning, silence engulfing both of you. “I don’t usually say this but, I think I’m gonna miss you during break,” Melissa finally spoke.

You looked up at her, blush covering your face from your cheeks to the tips of your ears. “Yeah? I’m gonna miss you too. I really am,” you replied.

“Then let me come see you, take you to a real dinner.” Melissa said. She stopped whatever it was she was picking up and met your gaze. You felt like the world around you was spinning. “Dinner? Like…” You trailed off, wanting, needing Melissa to confirm what you thought you could only hope for.

“Yeah, dinner. Like…? A date? If you want?” Melissa answered, nervously messing with her fingers as she spoke. You walked closer to her before speaking again, “Yes, please. I would love that.”

Melissa returned to her favorite stance with you, her arms finding their way around your waist and her hand pushing on your lower back, nearly forcing you to be close to her. Truthfully, you loved when she held you like this, and based on the smirk on Melissa’s face, she knew you liked it. “Okay,” she whispered, “Tomorrow night then, I’ll come pick you up.”

#abbott elementary #lisa ann walter #abbott elementary fics #wlw #reader fic #lesbian #melissa hours #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti

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mari-writes · 6 months

Text

Koutarou attends The Nutcracker for his sister, Kai, who's dancing as the Snow Queen.

This is her second year in the role, but he missed last time, so he’s so excited! He can’t wait to see his big sister dance!

And then he sees him.

In the role of the Snow King is a young prodigy named Akaashi Keiji. He’s a year younger than Koutarou, and his sister says Akaashi is “the best dance partner she’s ever had.”

Koutarou is immediately enamored. His eyes follow Akaashi wherever he goes on stage, despite Kai being the focal point of the routine. He’s lean, but obviously so strong, capable of lifting, throwing and catching his sister flawlessly. Effortlessly.

(Also, those tights look so good on him.)

Koutarou pretty much begs his sister to introduce them. “Please! I’ll do anything!” He cries as he unleashes the full force of his pout. “I don’t even care if he’s not available or interested in me! I just want to meet him!”

She finally relents after a week of his hassling. Koutarou attends the show again on closing night. He’s a bit nervous. The Nutcracker has been a huge hit, with critics and audiences alike praising the Snow Queen and King specifically. Akaashi’s name is on everyone’s lips; he's “the next big thing” in the Tokyo dance scene.

“Calm down, Kou,” Kai hisses as she leads him down the hall and towards the theater’s green room. “He’s just a person just like you. Trust me, it’ll be fine.”

Koutarou nods. Swallows. He holds his breath as they finally step into the room.

They find Akaashi casually leaning against the back wall, munching on an apple and swiping through his phone. Koutarou’s eyes roam his form. He’s wearing a cropped, midnight blue hoodie that cuts off at the hem of his black joggers, displaying his slim build. His feet are covered in a pair of beat-up sneakers.

“Keiji dear, do you have a moment?”

Akaashi looks up, and Koutarou sucks in a breath. The man has perhaps the prettiest eyes Koutarou has ever seen. A devastating mix of blue-green-grey, piercing, with heavy lids and long lashes.

Surprisingly, those eyes widen when as they land on Koutarou, and his mouth drops open. “Of course,” he nods, “um, hello.” His voice is like velvet, soft yet with a gravely texture that send a shiver through Koutarou. He also can’t help but notice that Akaashi is a few inches shorter, which forces the man to look up at him as they approach.

Oh my god, he's an actual angel.

Kai pulls her brother forward until the two men are a few paces apart. She squeezes his arm, a gesture she’s been using since they were kids to lend him comfort, encouragement. He leans appreciatively into the warm touch.

“It’s, um, it’s wonderful to finally meet you, Bokuto-san.”

Koutarou blinks, confused. Akaashi is addressing him as if he knows who he is. “Oh! Uh, it’s nice to meet you, too!” He grins sheepishly. “Did Kai tell you I was coming, or..?”

The man shakes his head. Now that they’re so close, Koutarou notices leftover sparkles and flecks of fake snow still clinging to Akaashi’s wavy black hair.

Enchanting.

“Well, I did know you were her brother… but I didn’t know you would be here tonight.” His eyes narrow at Kai, who chuckles.

“Keiji here is a big fan of volleyball,” she smirks at her brother, who nearly chokes at the new information. "He watched every single one your matches at the last Olympics. Apparently.”

“Really?!” Koutarou can’t believe his ears. Akaashi Keiji, the beautiful man who he’s been obsessing over the last few weeks, is a fan of him, too? It’s a bonafide Christmas miracle!

“Yes,” Akaashi’s lips twitch upward. It’s not quite a smile, but close. “I’ve, ah, been hoping Kai would introduce us someday.”

Koutarou beams. He can’t even be angry at his sister for keeping the secret. He’s just too happy right now. "I'm so glad she did!"

They end up at the closing night after party, sitting side by side in a booth, surrounded by family and friends. Conversation flows easily. Akaashi is rather quiet, but he seems content to just listen to Koutarou talk. He occasionally barks out a dry, sarcastic comment that only enamors Koutarou further.

He also smells nice. Like sandalwood and rose. Koutarou has to restrain himself from taking a big, long whiff.

“Y-you know, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi says, words slurring a bit from the whiskey shots he’d just downed. “I actually played a bit volleyball when I was younger.”

Koutarou gasps. “You did?!”

Akaashi giggles, then hiccups, and it’s the cutest thing Koutarou has ever heard. “I did,” Akaashi nods, “but only into middle school. Dance sort of took over my life after that. I’ve continued to follow the sport, though.”

Koutarou is having trouble containing his excitement. He grips his beer with one hand and reaches to grip Akaashi’s forearm lightly with the other. “You have to play with me someday!”

Akaashi snorts (wait, no, that is the cutest thing Koutarou has ever heard) and shakes his head. “I couldn’t possibly keep up with a pro player like you…”

“And I can’t keep up with your dancing,” Koutarou winks. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to do that with you sometime. If you want, that is...”

For a brief moment, Akaashi just stares, and Koutarou wonders if he’s being too forward. But then Akaashi’s lips settle into a sweet smile, and he glances down into his drink. His sharp cheekbones bloom with color. “Are you asking me on a date, Bokuto-san?”

Well then. Koutarou hadn’t expected things to progress this quickly, but sometimes, fate has other plans. “I mean,” he clears his throat, “maybe..?”

Akaashi looks up, and Koutarou is suddenly drowning. He swears his sees an entire future in those stormy eyes, just waiting to pull him under.

(And Koutarou would go, gladly.)

“I would love to,” Akaashi says, leaning forward to clank their glasses together. “Merry Christmas, Bokuto-san.”

A short advert ft. The Nutcracker's snow scene 💙❄️

Thank you for reading this sappy little thing I wrote after working a week straight of Nutcracker performances (eight shows in one week; it was insane). If you enjoyed this, PLEASE reblog! It really helps me out, way more than just a like (though I appreciate those, too). You can also share my post on Twitter! Thanks everyone for your support this year. It’s been rough, for many reasons. I hope you all have a happy holiday season. Here’s to 2024! 🥰

#bokuaka #akaboku #akaashi keiji #bokuto koutarou #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu!!#fanfic #my writing #ficlet #drabble #HAPPY HOLIDAYS EVERYONE #the nutcracker #ballet

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jadedvibes · 1 year

Text

Promises

Summary: You’ve been arranged to marry someone else, but with only one night left before Bucky redeploys, you decide to make a few memories you know you'll never forget.

Pairing: Soft Dark 1940s!Bucky x reader

Warnings: 18+ only, smut, oral (f), unprotected sex, loss of virginity, corruption kink, slight dub-con, a little sub!bucky, innocent!reader, arranged marriage plans, swearing, pet names, fluffy feels, angst, manipulation, dark!bucky, 1940’s au.

Word Count: 4.5k

A/N: Hi @mickeyhenrys, I am your secret santa! 🎅❤️ Hope you enjoy this soft dark fic that incorporates a Christmas Party/Mistletoe to fit my prompts🎄And a big thank you to @late-to-the-party-81 for coordinating this Tis the Season to be Thot-y challenge!

Like, comment, and/or reblog to put a giant smile on my face ♡

The annual Hodge Christmas Eve party was always all the rage, the whole neighborhood vied for an invitation to attend the grandiose and lively gathering. Your family had always wanted to attend, and this year was particularly special because an agreement had been made and an invitation was extended.

The families spoke and you were promised to marry Gilmore Hodge, the son of the town's most successful businessman. Your father was ecstatic that Gilmore’s parents agreed because he knew you’d be well taken care of for the rest of your life. The Hodges’ were happy with the arrangement because your reputation was exactly what they wanted for their son. Your mother taught you the ways of proper homemaking, ensuring you had every domestic duty down perfectly. Together with that, you were obedient and lovely, but most importantly you were chaste. The ideal package for a favorable young man.

After spending some time being excessively primped by your mother to look your best for your future family, and finally putting on your prettiest white dress, you were ready to go. This was what you had to do, it was your duty as a daughter, and defiance wasn’t your strong suit. Plus Gilmore was a hero, after returning home from the war he had earned even more respect than his great family name afforded him — he was an exemplary suitor. You would learn to care for him in time.

However, the engagement had yet to occur, and your families had only just completed their negotiations. The party gave you and your parents the opportunity to see what the Hodge family was like up close; although it didn’t weigh very much in terms of what was already decided. You were told that you were extremely fortunate to be chosen for their beloved son. There was a line a mile long to even be considered for him, but you were the kindest and the purest of them all —it could only be you.

So you were going to put on a big smile and spend the evening rubbing elbows with the high class folks Gilmore’s family socialized with, because it was your responsibility.

The main thing that had you actually excited about going to the party was that you knew your wonderful old friend Bucky Barnes would be making an appearance. Throughout the years you had kept in touch through letters, and he recently wrote to you letting you know that he’d be there; saying he knew Gilmore from his time in the service, and that he was looking forward to seeing you.

As a kid you always had the biggest crush on the guy because he was so effortlessly charming yet still adorably nerdy, the perfect combination. He was a constant in your life, and you weren’t willing to give him up, so regular letters helped keep you tethered together despite the distance. Somehow through every candid letter you felt yourself grow closer to Bucky, even closer than you were when he was still back home. His honesty, his vulnerability, his hope to see you again — it made you cherish him all the more.

Your mother knew about your elation over seeing him, especially given his valiant return from the war as well, but she urged you to be coy and downplay your enthusiasm. She didn’t want you to upset anyone in a way that could thwart her plans for your future.

Bucky had a good reputation growing up, and your parents took no issue with you having him as a friend. But that’s all it was ever allowed to be.

While you secretly wished for a different reality, you couldn’t help but feel euphoric about at least getting to spend some time with Bucky, the sweet guy you always wished your parents took an interest in. Nevertheless, it couldn’t happen, he didn’t come from enough according to your father. It didn’t matter that he was smart, and kind, and everything you ever wanted.

None of it mattered. Bucky would deploy again soon, so you had to have a memorable last night in his company. You didn’t understand how returning to the war worked, but that’s what he wrote in his last letter. The two of you would only have this one night to see each other.

Upon arrival at the party you made your greetings with the Hodge family, graciously speaking to them and then eventually Gilmore, who already had a couple girls vying for his attention. He was polite, but cared far more about returning to his little raving fan club. You couldn’t blame them, not everyone knew about your arrangement and he did look nice in his uniform. The snub stung a little, but you figured things would be different once you were married.

Sitting with your mother by a warm roaring fireplace, you spoke to some other women that had arrived with their families. Chatter was lively, with beautiful jazz ballads drifting throughout the grand property; setting the ambience just right. There was a good reason everyone wanted to attend this party, the food was delicious, the decorations along with the christmas tree extravagant, and the company among the best known in Brooklyn.

Your body buzzed with excitement and anticipation, knowing that any minute Bucky would arrive. Trying to stay calm, you focused on socializing to distract yourself, but it didn’t help. It had been so long since you’d seen him, your heart didn’t know how to play it cool.

However, all that anxiety dissipated the moment he stepped in the room, his eyes immediately finding yours; you felt yourself and the energy calm around you — it was only you and him.

Minding your manners you gave him a cordial nod before excusing yourself and seeking out a more quiet place to greet him. You smiled politely at the guests you passed as you made your way towards a quiet secluded hallway, all the while knowing you wouldn’t be alone for long.

Bucky smirked, stepping into the empty corridor, away from prying eyes and the loud music. “Didn’t want to talk to me out there with everyone else, doll?”

Finally seeing him for the first time in years, you dropped your proper facade and threw your arms around his neck, clinging to him. “Didn’t want to share is all,” you breathed, squeezing him tight. He held onto you with equal ardor, before you finally pulled back to get a good look at him.

You’d only known from his letter that he’d make an appearance at the party, you hadn’t heard his voice or seen him in the flesh for far too long. He still looked like the sweet boy you always adored, but something about him seemed different. His aura didn’t feel as light as you once remembered it to be, but perhaps you were imagining things. Given all that he’d been through you could understand if some things changed.

But then he spoke and you remembered that he was still your Bucky.

“I missed you so much,” he cupped the sides of your face and smiled broadly. “You’ve gotten even more beautiful, doll. Didn’t know that was possible.”

Heat rushed to your cheeks at his kind words. Shaking your head you smiled shyly before taking him in some more. He looked so handsome in his dress uniform, a touch more mature and muscular too — but still your Bucky. “How have you been?” you beamed.

“I’m alright, happy I get to see you,” he trailed his fingers down your arms before finally holding your hands in his.

“Can you stay long?”

Bucky shook his head. “No, I have to get back and get ready to ship out bright and early tomorrow.”

“Oh,” you breathed, disappointment running across your features before you remembered to put on a brave face. If time was that limited then you’d make sure every moment was a positive one.

He brought up a hand and traced his thumb over your cheekbone softly, dark blue eyes admiring you. “Glad I got to see you and say goodbye,” he gave you a small smile before stepping back and putting his hands behind his back, subtly distancing himself from you. He couldn’t get too close, he knew about the arrangement you had with Gilmore.

You furrowed your brows at his stiffness, things weren’t like this before. “We’ve barely even caught up, what’s the rush? Who knows how long it’ll be this time.” Or if he’d even return.

“I can’t, doll.” Bucky knew he shouldn’t be alone with you, yet he also knew for certain that he couldn’t go on knowing that soon you’d belong to someone else.

“C’mon Sarge, you’ve gotta give me something to remember you by,” you teased, trying to lighten the mood. “I can think of one thing that I could give you before some USO girl gets her hands on you,” you grabbed his hand and led him down a quiet hallway. Mrs. Hodge had given you the grand tour, and you knew your way around already. Her attention to detail with decorations throughout the home was commendable, just as her hospitality.

“What is it?” he smirked, disregarding the quip. The USO girl’s always paled in comparison to you. There wouldn't be another, there would only be you.

You tilted your head up at the mistletoe tied with a red bow hanging above the door you’d tugged him towards before meeting his gaze.

Bucky peeked up before shaking his head at you with a mischievous smile. You weren’t making this easy, so he finally committed to his decision. He’d been tinkering with holding back, but there you were under the soft light, looking so gorgeous in your white chiffon dress. If he could only have this one night with you, he was going to take advantage of it. Stepping towards you, his hand loosely cupped the side of your face, before he leaned in close. “I can think of something more memorable than this, doll. But it’ll do for now,” he breathed against your lips.

Your heart fluttered in your chest when his warm lips met yours. Certain and deliberate, making you gasp at his confidence. The grip on your face tightened before his lips parted, and suddenly his tongue was sliding along yours, expertly exploring your mouth. No man had ever kissed you like that. No fumbling or hesitancy, only desire in his actions.

A soft moan slipped past your lips, breaking you out of the impassioned trance you’d fallen under with Bucky, reminding you that you were at a lively Christmas party. If someone had stumbled over and seen that little display of public affection they would inevitably gossip about you; leading to major consequences if your parents or worse, if the Hodge’s heard about it.

“I have to go,” you whispered, stepping towards him to get away.

“Why?” his hands found your waist, keeping you trussed up against the door.

Your fingertips rose to touch your lips, still tingling because of him. “Bucky, they can’t see us like that. It– it was a bad idea.” You’d never been kissed with such passion and it made you feel things. Things you knew you shouldn’t for a man you weren't promised to — even if he was the only man you ever wanted a future with.

“No, it wasn’t.”

“Bucky.”

“What happened to ‘Sarge’?” He raised an eyebrow, his hands slowly wrapping around your body. “Thought you might give me an order or two, using my rank and all,” he grinned.

You couldn’t help but crack a smile. “You know we shouldn’t, you know I’m–“

“I know about the arrangement, doll. I know that soon you’ll be married. But I also know that I’m leaving tomorrow and I might not make it back,” he looked at you solemnly.

“Oh, Bucky,” you frowned. “I know. I wish I knew what to say. Is there any way I can make this last night a good one for you?” you asked with hopeful eyes.

His eyes darkened, a ghost of a smile on his lips. “I can think of a few ways.”

“Like what?” you tilted your head.

“We can start with you giving me an order,” he quirked an eyebrow.

Taking a quick peek around to make sure you were alone, you placed your arms around his neck once you ensured the coast was clear. “Are you good at taking orders, Sarge?” you asked sweetly. Maybe you could get him to give you a couple more of those kisses that made you tingle.

“Wanna find out?” he nodded towards the door.

“You wanna go in there?” your eyes darted around. You’d never been in this kind of situation, unsupervised no less. It was unlikely anyone would notice you were missing for long, but the uncertainty of what might happen if you were alone with him made you nervous.

He shrugged with a lopsided grin, it’d have to do for now. You deserved far better than a rushed hookup, and one day he’d give it to you. But on this special night in your company, he had to improvise.

Biting your lip, you nodded your head before turning around as he opened the door into the small room.

“This can be our little secret,” he suggested as he followed in after you.

Secrets were good, no one had to know, this would be okay.

Butterflies were in your stomach, your heartbeat erratically thumping in your chest, but then his familiar blue eyes were on you, and your apprehension slowly melted away. You trusted him with your life, you always could, and if tonight was the last night you had with him, then it ought to be an unforgettable one.

“I’d like that,” you hesitantly tugged at his lapel, bringing his lips back to yours. His hands drifted down your body, tightening the hold as they finally settled on your hips. The chatter down the hall, the music drifting through the house, it all faded away. Tongues tangled, bodies pressing up against one another. Nothing but the present moment filled your senses; a moment years in the making. It was always supposed to be Bucky, at least for the first time.

Bucky sure knew how to kiss a girl speechless. When his hands drifted around and a little lower, you were too caught up to protest, not that you really would anyways. Swiftly he tugged you even closer, hands possessively on your ass, his hardened length pressed against your torso.

The sudden shock of it all made you gasp against his lips. This was wrong, and deep down you knew that. But you’d never been embraced like this, never felt wanted in this way, and surely letting him have his way with you would give you both something to remember once he was gone. This was all you’d ever have with Bucky, may as well make the most of it.

When his lips trailed down your throat, when his hands deftly unzipped your dress and when he undid your bra, you couldn’t utter a protest. As your dress pooled at your feet you felt embarrassed for a moment, wanting to cover up; that was until you saw the way Bucky looked at you. Longing paired with a pleased grin on his lips.

You wanted to make him feel good, if only once.

“You sure are gorgeous, doll,” he groaned, tracing his lips down your neck, dipping his tongue over your breast. “Sure wanna make you mine,” he whispered before latching onto your nipple.

“Please,” you whined, pleasure rushing to your core in an unfamiliar way simply by his touch. You weren’t really sure what you wanted, you only knew that you needed him to give it to you. Threading a hand through his hair, you held him close as he lavished your breasts with his warm lips.

With his eyes steadily fixated on yours he stood to his full height, unbuttoned his jacket and slowly sank to his knees.

“Do you mean it?” He gently kissed up your thighs.

You didn’t know what he was asking, but in that moment there was only one answer to any question. “Yes,” you whispered.

Bucky leaned toward your clothed core, hands wrapping around your thighs. “Say you want me to make you mine, doll.”

The smallest touch sent shivers down your spine, the way his large hands felt against your skin, the way his warm breath felt through your thin panties. You were his to do as he pleased.

“Make me yours, Buck–” you gasped as he tore through the fine material of your underwear. Heat immediately rushing to your cheeks. His tongue slipping between your wet folds. He thought he wanted one night without having to give or take any serious orders. Although this was one he was happy to oblige. He’d gladly make you his, entirely his.

“Oh, god,” you cried, arching against his mouth. Him and his soft, warm tongue were going to be the end of you.

His tongue gently stroked up to your sensitive bundle of nerves, before two fingers suddenly slid inside your tight hole. This was so foreign, and so wrong, yet you couldn’t find the words to make him stop; because they didn’t exist in your mind, and you didn’t want him to.

He fucked you with his fingers, building slow to start then alternating with his tongue. Your mind was in a haze, you couldn’t fathom how Bucky knew how to do this. But there he was, looking up at you, continuing his sweet torture with a possessed look in his eyes.

He wanted to watch you fall apart, he needed to be the first to see that. Your innocence was something he desperately wanted to sully and he’d thought about it more often than he’d care to admit. Getting the chance to ruin you. Some nights it was the only thing that gave him the determination to make it back home.

Your mouth fell open when he picked up his pace, moving more roughly, and you couldn’t stifle the cry that slipped past your lips.

“Might wanna keep it down, wouldn’t want word to get back to your boyfriend now do ya, doll?” he groaned against your pussy, returning to his task, lips latching onto your aching bud while his fingers pumped into you.

“He’s not my boyf–” you sharply inhaled as he harshly sucked your clit. Throwing your head back, you moaned as you felt your pulse throb through your body. Heat washed over you as Bucky worked you through your orgasm. The sight of you falling apart above him was an image he would never forget. He’d caused that, and he needed to see it again.

Before you could make a sound again he was up and his mouth was back on yours, swallowing your moans as he slowly finished you off with his fingers.

“You sure are a beautiful thing,” he rasped, grabbing the back of your neck as he kissed you ardently. Through hazy eyes you watched as he finally pulled his soaked fingers out of you, bringing them to his mouth and licking them clean.

“Bucky,” you whimpered. “We should– it’s probably time that we head ba–”

“Can I make love to you, doll?” His mouth cut you off, a tender kiss that let you taste your arousal on his lips. Heady and intoxicating.

“Please?” he pleaded. “I might never get the chance, and well — you know how I feel about you.”

Through countless letters and years of memories, you truly knew exactly how he felt about you.

The least you could do was give your dear friend this final gift. He came back from the violent war once, and the odds of him finding that luck again would be even more slim. He deserved everything you had to offer.

“Okay,” you nodded your head. “Please be gentle.”

“Is that an order?” he teased, smiling softly. Grabbing your hand he led you to the small bed in the corner of the room. “I’ll take care of you, promise.” Bucky swiftly undressed leaving him in just his dog tags, his eyes glazed with lust as they took in your body. This was real, you were there, you were his.

Your eyes roamed over his broad chest, his chiseled abs, but then you stuttered a breath when you saw his hard thick cock. Oh god. It wouldn’t fit, there was no way.

Before you could protest, his hypnotic blue eyes locked with yours, and you were under his spell. Your eyes lingered on each other's as the air became electric. He could do whatever he wanted, you trusted him.

“Just relax,” he whispered. Laying you down, he softly peppered your neck with kisses as his fingers ran through your folds. You were plenty wet, but he didn’t want to hurt you. Mesmerized by the way you looked up at him so wide-eyed and beautiful, his eyes searched yours as he tried to ease his way into you, but he was met with resistance.

“Take a deep breath, doll.” Circling his hips he worked on loosening you up, while you focused on your breathing, and then he slowly slipped further into your tight pussy. A groan escaped his lips once he finally bottomed out inside of you. Fucking exquisite.

The intense pressure in your core was unlike anything you’d ever felt before, the feeling so different you didn’t know how to comprehend it. But there was no time to think, because suddenly Bucky was making love to you with gradual measured pumps. The sensation felt overwhelming yet more addicting with each passing moment. Your mouth fell open, and you opened your legs wider, experimentally trying to match his thrusts with your hips — that made it feel even better. He was so deep, so thick, you felt every inch of him as he moved in and out of you.

He treated you with reverence, but with each stroke you felt yourself grow needier. Burning desire like a fire slowly building up in your belly. “H-harder,” you breathed, slapping a hand over your mouth before another moan could escape.

“Yes ma’am,” Bucky mumbled, picking up his pace. That was another order he’d dutifully obey. He grabbed your knee and bent it up, hitting you hard in a spot that had you seeing stars.

“S’ good, Buck,” you blubbered. No wonder this was a sin, nothing moral or right could ever feel this good.

Bucky’s breath stuttered as he watched you; lust-blown pupils and messy lipstick, his pretty innocent girl utterly debauched all thanks to him. He captured the moment in his mind, burning it in his memory. Worshiping you, devouring you, ravaging the woman he dreamed so many nights about. He could never forget this.

Tender lovemaking quickly turned brutal as he rutted into you roughly over and over, his face buried in your neck to quiet his own moans.

Tangling your fingers in his hair, you let him get lost in pleasure; he was loving it, and you were grateful you could give this to him. Warmth started to rise up your body again, the coil in your belly tightening with each sharp thrust.

“I wanna know what you feel like when you come around me, doll. I need it,” he groaned, pressing his lips to yours while his fingers swirled your needy bud. And like an order your body spasmed at his command. Bucky quickly placed a hand over your mouth to silence the sound you were on the cusp of letting out.

Even though you knew this was improper, morality didn’t deter the way you responded to his strong thrusts, shuddering hard as waves of pleasure washed over you.

“Bucky,” you mumbled, suddenly frantic with fear over what you’d done. He removed his hand and kissed you, silently reassuring you that this was good. He was right for you, just as you undoubtedly were right for him.

“Shh it’s okay, sugar. I’m here.” He muttered your name as he came, relishing in the way your wet walls rippled around him. Everything he could have ever wanted. In the house of the man you were planning to marry, he felt bliss, love, and euphoria as he poured himself inside of you.

Collapsing beside you, he calmed his breathing as you did the same. Both of you trying to process what this meant. You hoped this was enough for him, you gave him every bit of yourself, every last piece. Surely it had to be.

But in his mind this was only the beginning.

“I’m going to miss you, Bucky,” you laid your head on his chest, finally back down from your high.

He gently stroked your face with the back of his hand. “Oh don’t worry about that, you’ll be seeing a lot of me.”

You furrowed your brows and propped yourself up on your elbow to get a better look at him. “What do you mean?”

He placed his hand around the back of your neck. “You’re mine now, I’m not going anywhere. You’re going to tell your father that Gilmore's out, and I’m in.”

“Bucky, I can’t do that,” you shook your head with a soft smile. “That’s who my parents have chosen for me.” Sadly, it wasn’t up for debate.

“You’re going to tell them it's me, or I’m going to tell them what we did. All the things you let me do, how much you loved it,” he ran his thumb over your bottom lip. “Now you wouldn't want that, would you?”

No, he wouldn’t. If anyone knew about this your reputation would be ruined, your family would be destroyed. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. This was not the man you always adored.

“You lied to me.” The ugly realization that your fate was unwittingly sealed fully dawned on you.

He didn’t bother trying to deny it. “It’s going to be okay. I’m going to take good care of you, I promise,” he smiled. “Get dressed, we have a tough conversation to attend to.”

“Bucky, I–”

“You trust me don’t you?” He tilted your chin, forcing you to meet his dark gaze.

Not anymore. Hesitantly, you nodded your head. There was nothing more you could do.

He gave you a saccharine smile. “You told me to make you mine, and that’s what I did. Now c’mon we have a beautiful future to begin, and maybe we can fit in a dance before I take you home; well what will be your home for a short while longer,” he chuckled.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you wordlessly retrieved and redressed yourself in the wrinkled garments strewn across the room. Disgust overcame you, tarnishing the emotions behind what you thought would be a beautiful memory you’d always cherish.

Turns out your best friend wasn’t deploying and you belonged to him now. By some miracle, or more accurately some misfortune, he made it back home — and you were the reward for all his hard work. The violence and destruction he witnessed and took part in changed him, more than you could tell at first glance.

You thought offering him your innocence before redeployment would be a sweet consolation prize. Never did you imagine your new reality, becoming Sergeant Barnes’ most prized possession.

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nahimjustfeelingit-writes · 6 months

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Holiday fic summaries! These will be OC not Reader

Secret Santa:

You attend a big Christmas party at your friend’s. You were instructed to wear something Christmas inspired and to bring a secret Santa gift for a name you’ve chosen at random before attending. You bring a cocktail kit as a gift to another friend. When gift exchange happens, you get your gift and there is a Christmas card with instructions to open in private. When you open your gift later that evening in a room at your friends, it’s the nastiest, freakiest gift ever!!!! You wonder who could have given you this? There were plenty of men and women at that party. You were instructed to wear your gift all evening but still…you don’t know who it is. Eventually, you find out after an entire evening of sexual torture.

Sitting on Santa’s lap for photos:

You’ve always wanted to take pictures with Santa as a little girl but your mom didn’t feel comfortable letting you sit on a grown man’s lap which is understandable. Now that you’re older, you go to a Christmas event at the Fire House with your sister and nieces and there is a toy drive, Brunch, hot cocoa, and a Santa Clause! He’s a black Santa dressed exactly like the fat jolly man. After some thinking you decide to get a picture with some convincing from your sister. You sit on Santa’s lap and he wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you closer, a deep, laugh causing chills to run down your spine. He asks you what you want for Christmas and you say jokingly: “A MAN! I’m kidding, Santa.” (You weren’t kidding) “honestly, I have everything I could ever want. I just want to spend time with my family.” Little did you know, Santa was going to make that gift come true.

Santa’s naughty list:

Erik is a brat tamer. And he has his eyes on a woman that’s been crowned the black Regina George. She’s cruel, spoiled, rich, and BRATTY. Her daddy is a successful lawyer and her mom is a brain surgeon. She has everything she wants and will always get what she wants. She doesn’t even have to lift a finger. Men are at her beck and call always. She’s every man’s dream. Erik remembers how she treated him all those years ago. He wasn’t enough for her apparently. Didn’t make enough money he assumed. Wasn’t on her level. Erik had it all now. Without her knowledge of who he is, she accepted a date with him on Christmas Eve after talking online for months. She couldn’t wait to see if he was about what he talked. Erik proved to her that he was exactly what she was looking for, but what she didn’t know was that she’d been on his naughty list for a long time now. He had a treat for her stuck up ass. One she’ll never forget for the rest of her life. The ghost of Christmas past, present, and future.

New Year’s wish:

You make a wish as the clock strikes twelve. “I wish I could wake up next to the perfect man that checks off all my boxes. Even if it’s the first man I ever laid my eyes on tonight. I deserve it after the time I’ve wasted on my ex.” You were drunk and saying anything but the shooting star that zipped across the night sky took it seriously. That morning, you wake up in the most luxurious home, even though you recall falling asleep in your own bed last night after the NYE party. Next to you, there is a man sound asleep. You sit up, confused, looking down at your naked body dripped in diamonds. What the hell? You look over at the man next to you and he’s…damn…he’s gorgeous…wait…is this the guy from the party last night?!!!! You’re in for a ride with his man! A dream come true! Only problem is, you have until midnight to live this fantasy before reality sets in.

NYE office party:

It’s the annual NYE party! All departments at this big corporation: Marketing, Finance, IT, Operations, Development, and the big guys that reside on the top floor all come together to celebrate. It’s a mix crowd, and you show up because there’s always good food and lots of alcohol. You work as an Accountant, been there for five years, and you’re single. You show up in your best attire, and all eyes are obviously on you. You find your work friends and gossip. In walks the boss. You’ve never seen this man but you can’t stand him. He’s controlling, demanding, opinionated, and rude as hell. He’s the new CEO of this successful tech company. One of the highest paid in the world. The old CEO never showed up to these events—hold the hell up!!!! Is that the man you fucked a month ago that you’ve been running away from because of that python between his legs?! He’s your boss?!

New Year’s kiss with a stranger:

It’s NYE 2022. You’re spending your NYE in the hospital. You have a patient that you’ve grown close with. His name is Erik and he had a near death experience. He’s a stranger to you but not really. You’ve grown to like him for the past month you’ve been taking care of him. He is recovering well. It was a motorcycle accident. He’s bandaged up and in a contraption to keep him stable with the amount of injuries he has. You’re only doing your travel nursing there and it’s your last day. Erik didn’t talk much. He mostly used his button or communicated with a blink or a slow nod of his head. He surprised you by calling your name that last night. You come to him, happy that he’s speaking more clearly. Erik: “come closer…” you do so, and he whispers, “I’m really going to miss you. Could I please have a New Year’s kiss?” His request threw you off. You laugh, patting his hand gently, “I’m gonna miss you too. I’m sad to leave. I wish I could stay.” Throughout the rest of your shift you can’t help but to think about his request. You couldn’t explain why you felt butterflies in your stomach. You didn’t even know this man outside of being his nurse! Right before you leave, you accept a gift from your nurse supervisor and thank everyone for having you. You’re set to go back home to Chicago for at least two months before another contract in New York. Before you leave, you peek inside of Erik’s room and notice he’s sleeping. You check your surroundings and tiptoe over to his bedside. You look at his lips and then on impulse, you lean in and kiss him. It’s soft and gentle. You could feel tears brimming your eyes. You leave with the realization that you’ll never see him again.

#new fic #nahimjustfeelingit-writes #killmonger imagine #killmonger fanfiction #killmonger smut #erik killmonger #christmas #new years

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basiccortez · 1 year

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The Man in the Red Suit

pairing: Rip Wheeler x female!Dutton warnings: minor Yellowstone spoilers ahead (Lee's death, season five things), mentions of grief and death, Rip being a grinch Rip Wheeler Masterlist | Yellowstone Masterlist Yellowstone Taglist Form

Note: Merry Christmas to all! :)

“Why do I have to dress up?” Rip asked for probably the thousandth time since you pulled out the red santa suit, beard and hat.

“Because it’s Evelyn’s first Christmas and I want her to take a picture with Santa Clause,” You said, curling your hair in the mirror. It was Christmas Eve and your sister had invited the whole family to the house for dinner, drinks and gifts. It was yours and Rip's first Christmas as parents and you wanted it to be perfect. Evelyn was only seven months old so she wouldn’t be able to know if anything went wrong or not, but you would know.

“And your dad or Kayce can’t but on the ridiculous-”

“No! It has to be you!” You sighed, putting down the hot iron, “Evelyn won’t sit on my dads or Kayce’s lap. You saw how she acted when we took her to see Santa at the coffee shop.”

“Well he was a bit-” Rip shut up when you gave him a glare through the reflection of the mirror. He knew better than to argue with a Dutton woman, it was one sure way to get a fist to the face. Rip opened his mouth to say something just as Evelyn let out a cry, “We’ll discuss later.”

You smiled to yourself as you finished getting ready for the Christmas party. When you walked downstairs your heart warmed in your chest seeing Rip holding Evelyn and looking at the ornaments on the tree. She had his big brown eyes and dark curls, you were amazed how much hair she had at such a young age. She was really her father’s twin, there was no mistaking who she belonged to.

It was also amazing to see how quickly Rip took on the role of being a father. He had his reservations about it, he was young when his mother died and his father was a monster. It kept him up at night thinking about the type of parent he would be. Would he be mean like his old man? Would his child grow up to hate him? To be afraid of him? For those nine months you were carrying Evelyn, Rip read every single parenting book he could get his hands on. He asked Kayce and John for advice. None of it really made sense to him, but then he saw his babygirl for the first time, and it did. Rip was an amazing dad.

“Momma is staring at us again,” Rip whispered to Evelyn and kissed her cheek. She giggled at the feeling of his beard on her soft little cheek, “You ready? It’s cold out, and I don’t want her to sweat in the car seat and then go outside. That’s how kids get sick.”

“I am ready,” You nodded, “I just gotta get the baby bag, the gift for Dad and Beth, and the cookies for Tate.”

“All of that is in the car and it’s running,” Rip said.

“What would I do without you?” You asked with a smile on your face. You leaned up on your tiptoes and kissed his lips, “Can you put her in the car seat? I’ll grab the Santa suit.”

Rip rolled his eyes as you skipped back down the hall towards the bedroom, “Your mom is crazy,” He whispered to Evelyn and the little girl turned to face her father, showing him a gummy smile. Rip smiled at his daughter, kissing her cheek again and then going to put her in her car seat.

The Dutton house was decorated from floor to ceiling for Christmas, which was probably Beth’s doing. She may lie to your face and say she hates kids, but she would do anything to make her niece and nephew smile. Christmas also made her happy, despite what she says, it was the one time of year where all the Dutton siblings seemed to put their bullshit aside for a couple hours. Rip parked as close to the door as he could get, he didn’t want to carry Evelyn that far in the cold weather.

“You can put the Santa suit on after dinner,” You said as you walked up the path towards the front door, “While we’re cleaning up and setting up gifts, it will be perfect.” You opened the front door, and walked into the warm smelling house.

“Yeah,” Rip said as he walked in behind you.

“Aunt Y/N, you’re here!” Tate yelled running up to you, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Hey bud,” You kissed the top of his head, “Have you grown again?”

“Probably,” Kayce said, and greeted you with a quick kiss on your head, “Wakes up five inches taller than the night before. Where’s the little one?”

“Rip’s got her,” You said and nodded your head over to the living room where Rip was taking Evelyn out of her car seat, Monica waiting for her chance at baby snuggles, “How is she?”

“Better,” Kayce sighed, “I think having Evelyn on Wednesdays helps. She might have gone a tad overboard with the gifts for her, but it’s her first Christmas.”

“If you think Monica has spoiled her, wait until you see what Beth has put under the tree,” Your dad said, also giving you a kiss on the head in greeting, “Gator is ready to serve dinner.”

“Sounds good, daddy,” You said and then walked over to your husband, who was watching Monica hold his daughter. Monica was slowly looking better since the loss of her son John. It was actually her that asked if she could babysit Evelyn for you while you were spending time going back to work for your dad’s new role as governor. It was nice to see her smile again.

“Dad wants us at the table,” You said to them.

“Thanks Y/N,” Monica said, and handed you your daughter, “She looks like she’s feeling better.”

“She is. Thank you very much for those tips,” You smiled at the woman before she walked off to go find her own family.

Gator probably spent the whole day working on the Christmas dinner for the Duttons. The table was stocked full of ham, mashed potatoes, stuffing, all the fixings. John sat at the head of the table like he usually did, you and Beth on either side of him. Rip sat next to you, and Tate on the other side of him. Kayce sat on the other end, with Monica on his left. There usually was one more person at the table, but Jamie had turned down Beth’s (not so nice) invite. John had dug around in the basement for the high chair that they’ve had since you were a baby to put Evelyn in. She sat between you and John.

“So, Tate,” Beth said, taking a sip of her wine and looking up at you with a glint in her eye. She knew of your plan to get Rip into the Santa costume and hopefully telling Tate outloud will help seal the deal, “I hear Santa is coming by.”

“He’s not real,” Tate answered and Rip looked at you with a shit eating grin, “I’m not five anymore.”

“See, he’s not five, and Evelyn is too-”

“You are putting on the damn Santa outfit,” You harshly whispered to him, “If I have to stuff you in it myself, you’re putting it on.”

“I’d like to see you try,” Rip challenged and you glared at him. Kayce watched as the small stare down between you and Rip was broken up by Evelyn throwing a piece of bread on the floor. He could see that the whole Santa thing was somewhat bothering you, he knew you well enough to know how much Christmas means to you. You only got to spend one Christmas with your mother before her death, and you cherished the family moments like this.

“Act surprised when he gets here,” Kayce whispered to his son, “For Evelyn.”

“Why?” Tate asked, “She’s just a baby.”

“Because it means alot to Aunt Y/N,” Kayce said and then cleared his throat, “She only had one Christmas with our mom, and it meant a lot to her. The only pictures she really has are of her, Santa and our mom.”

Tate looked down at his food, and then up at his dad. In his short life, he had gone through a lot, and had witnessed loss at first hand. He looked over at his aunt who excused herself from the table to take care of his younger cousin. He thought to himself that there would’ve been two babies at Christmas, but instead, there’s just one.

Tate nodded, “Okay. I will, I promise.” Kayce smiled at his son and patted his shoulder.

When everyone's bellies were full, the family retired to the living room, where they started opening gifts from the large pile underneath the Christmas tree. You sat on the floor with Evelyn on your lap, helping her tear into the packages that Tate was handing her. She was having more fun sticking the wrapping paper in her mouth than trying to open the gifts. Both Beth and Monica had their phones out making sure to take pictures to capture the moments. The men all sat back with drinks in their hands, talking about cattle and giving the occasional “oh that’s cool” when it was needed.

“Tate, why don’t you help Evelyn open the gifts from us,” Monica and moved down on the floor next to the kids.

“I noticed you don’t have the Santa costume on,” You whispered to Rip.

“There’s no need to put the ridiculous suit on,” Rip said, sipping his whisky, “She’s not going to remember it.” You clenched your jaw as you looked at the ground, “She’s a baby. It can wait until-”

“It can’t wait!” You yelled and the eyes of your family members looked at you. You sucked in a breath to compose yourself and stood up from the floor, “I’m sorry. It’s just. . . its tradition.”

“Y/N,” Rip called out to you, trying to grab your hand as you walked away from the living room. He sighed and ran a hand over his beard.

“She believed in Santa until she was about fourteen,” John said, “Might’ve been partially my fault. I paid Paul Adler to dress up as Santa and come to the house. I guess it was my way of holding on to the things my Evelyn used to do.” John looked at the last family portrait that was sitting on the mantel above the fireplace. It was taken on Christmas eve of 1996. You were in your mothers arm with Lee looking over her shoulder at you. You were the closest with Lee growing up, and his death affected you much harder than anyone else.

“I never realized how much it meant,” Rip answered, “I just thought it was something silly that she wanted to do for the kids.”

“Everything that girl does has meaning to it. She just doesn’t do things ‘just because’. You’ll learn that soon enough.”

Rip nodded and then stood up from the couch, going down the hall after you. Monica smiled at her father-in-law. They hadn’t ever had a close relationship, John saw Monica as the woman who was going to take his son away from him, but they had bonded over the horrible shared grief between them. John looked at Monica, and the woman handed her his granddaughter.

“C’mere, Evie,” John said, lifting the baby from Monica’s arms, “How about you open this?” He grabbed the small box from the side table and helped the little one open it. It was her very first pair of cowboy boots, “Every girl needs a pair of boots.” He kissed her forehead and helped her put them on her feet.

You were laying on your childhood bed, staring up at the ceiling where there were once glow in the dark stars that Lee helped you put up. Your father was livid and worried that they would pull the paint off the ceiling, but Lee assured him that it wouldn’t. The next person in this house who loved the Christmas traditions besides you was Lee. He would stay up late with you to wrap presents as you would write in fancy handwriting ‘To who, from Santa.” When you were younger, he would be the one to eat the cookies, and leave “snowy” (which was actually flour) footprints by the fireplace as if good Ol’ Saint Nick had actually come down the chimney to leave gifts. One time, he even brought a horse up from the barn to leave “reindeer” prints in the fresh snow (however, you knew a horse track when you saw one).

You thought that overtime, the grief of losing your mother and brother would slowly start to subside, but it seemed as if this Christmas, it had come back in full blast. Maybe it was because you were a mother now, and you knew how fragile life could be and change with a snap of a finger.

“Baby?” You heard Rip’s voice before you saw him. You just sighed, and listened as his heavy boots walked over to you, “I’m sorry about the Santa stuff.”

“My dad tell you I believed in Santa until I was thirteen.”

“He said fourteen.”

“He’s a fucking liar. Jamie told me on my thirteenth birthday that I can’t believe Santa was real anymore,” You said and sat up from your bed, “I should be apologizing to you.”

“For what?” Rip asked, and sat next to you on the bed.

“I know the holidays aren’t your thing,” You said and grabbed his hand. Your nervous habit was playing with his hands, “And I shouldn’t have pushed you so much into doing it.”

Rip smiled sadly at you, and grabbed your hand, bringing it to his lips and kissing the back of it, “The holidays are my thing because they are your thing. They make you happy, and anything that makes you happy makes me happy. Besides, Evelyn seems to love it.”

You giggled and shook your head, moving closer to your husband. He wrapped his strong arms around you, “You’re right, Evelyn won’t remember this. She’s spending more time shoving wrapping paper in her mouth than knowing what's going on.”

“But we will remember,” Rip said and kissed your cheek, “We will remember Evelyn’s first Christmas and that’s what matters.”

“Thank you,” You said, looking up at him.

“For what, baby? I nearly ruined this shit.”

“For giving me the best Christmas present ever,” You smiled up at him. He caressed your face and then placed a kiss on your lips. You hummed into the kiss, and ran your fingers through his brown curls. He moved you in his lap, so you were straddling him, and he laid back against the bed. His hands roamed your body, going down to your hips. Your tongues moved against one another, you being able to taste the whiskey on his tongue.

A knock on the door startled you both as you lifted your head up to see Beth standing in the doorway, “Oh don’t stop on my account,” She had a smirk on her face and you rolled your eyes, “But there’s someone here to see you.”

You furrowed your eyebrows and climbed off of Rip and your bed. You walked down towards the living room and stopped in your tracks seeing,

“Santa?”

“Ho, ho, ho! Merry Christmas!” Santa said, standing in the middle of your living room. You looked at your sister and Rip.

“I made a call,” Beth smiled, and you threw your arms around her, hugging her tightly, “Oh-”

“Thank you, Bethy,” You said and then went towards your child who was back in Monica’s arms. Rip looked a bit confused as he watched you place Evelyn in Santa’s arms. He looked around the living room spotting Kayce, John, and Gator all standing around.

“Who did-” Rip asked Beth but then he heard Santa speak again, “Lloyd?”

Beth shrugged, “He owed me a favor.”

Rip shook his head, and then walked towards his family. Beth let out a breath in relief as she watched her family gather around to talk to “Santa”. Evelyn surprisingly didn’t cry when she was set on Santa’s lap, probably because she was too distracted by all the movement around her.

“Get together you three,” Monica said, grabbing your phone from you, “I’ll take a picture.”

“Rip, sit on the other side of Santa’s lap,” You said and he gave you a deadpanned look, “It’s for the memories, sweetheart.”

“Only for you, honey,” Rip gave you a fake smile as he carefully sat on Lloyd’s other knee.

“Don’t break me bossman,” Lloyd said and Rip also gave him a glare, “It’s for the kid, don’t be a grinch! Smile!”

“Call me a grinch again and I’ll have you scrapping shit-”

“Okay, smile!” Monica said, “1. . . 2. . . 3!”

You, Rip and “Santa” smiled at the camera as Evelyn was still looking up amazed at Santa. You took her from Santa’s lap and looked at the pictures Monica took.

“They’re perfect!” You cheered, “Thank you so much, Santa.”

“No problem! Ho, ho, ho!” Santa said and Beth led him out the front door.

Rip put his arm around your shoulders, “You know what they say about Mistletoe.”

You looked up above your head to see the green twig hanging above you. You smiled and grabbed Rip’s face, bringing him down to you for a kiss, “Merry Christmas, Mr. Wheeler.”

“Merry Christmas to you, Mrs. Wheeler.

#Yellowstone #Yellowstone fan fic #yellowstone fan fiction #Yellowstone imagine #rip wheeler #rip wheeler fan fic #rip wheeler fan fiction #rip wheeler imagine #rip wheeler x reader #rip wheeler x you #rip wheeler x y/n

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crushedsweets · 7 months

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Any Jeff hcs?? (Your art is absolutely amazing)

i make him evil. ok jk but also im serious. im mostly just gonna cover his backstory in my au, rather than his current part in it.

cw for brief mentions of animal abuse, bullying, the usual. AGAIN THIS IS FOR MY AU !! also tysm :3..

liu is about 4-6 years older than jeff. they lived somewhere in the midwest until jeff was about 10.

they were both raised by incredibly good parents and had a very strong support system, always visiting their grandparents, big christmas every year, parents always go to open house/parent-teacher conferences, etc. tried getting their kids into sports, would go to every game, literally just the stereotypical great parent. not even a secret "ooo behind closed doors they r actually abusive...!" thing theyre literally just good.

jeff was always a bit more on the aggressive side, something they especially noticed when he was 5 and could not be left alone with a single fucking pet. he'd yank at and shake anything small enough to pick up, and punch and kick anything too big to pick up. every family pet was scared of him.

even at school, he was a bully - it started as typical grade school shit, putting gum in girls hairs, stealing peoples belongings, pushing kids off the play structures. he targeted girls especially. he's been warned, suspended, expelled - but his dad got a job offer in the east coast that they couldnt really ignore

he was 12 when he started harassing a girl, following her around the playground, calling her a slut, yanking her hair, spitting on her, etc - and eventually, her brother and his friends stepped in.

thiiis is where i wanted to put randy and his friends in. theyre older kids, around 14 and still more on the mean side, but they didn't just randomly target jeff for fun bc he's "the new kid". just like jeff harassed that girl, they began harassing him - but of course with the strength of 3 teenage boys, rather than an 12 yr old. liu would interfere when he could, but he was still a student and began working his first job by this point.

jeff got into physical fights with them for weeks, but he was quick to turn it into something bloody and brought a pocket knife. this time the fight occurred in front of jeffs house, when his parents were at work, and liu ended up running out to make them cut it out. he tried to grab the knife out of jeffs hands, he tried to stop his brother, but jeff was serious about what he wanted - and he wanted to fucking stab randy

so he did, right in the stomach. it was nothing fatal.

liu took the fall, being 16 and terrified of what could happen to jeff if he landed himself in juvenile hall - the other 3 boys were content with this, knowing it meant jeff really didn't have anyone to defend him by this point. thinking it would fuck with jeff even more . . BUT JEFFS A LITTLE SHIT he doesnt fucking careee . something about "i never asked him to take the blame that shits on him" or whatnot.

but obv once randy recovered fully it got worse. it went from schoolyard level harassment to borderline stalking, robbing him, holding him down so randy could fucking stomp on him, so on and so forth.

and eventually the bleach happened, and the fire happened, and it didn't really have anything special or involve a birthday party or whatever . it was just another insane fucking attack on jeff, although randy and them didn't exactly expect the fire to spread so fucking quickly - they just splashed some gas at his feet, threw a match, though it would scare him and maybe fuck up his pants. really did NOT think that shit through

jeff recovered in the hospital, and the trio decided to leave him alone. they were little shits who took it too far, but they werent trying to do all that. jeff didnt snitch, he didnt want them to get put away . he wanted to keep going, obviously

things settled down for a while. jeff was waiting and waiting and waiting. his parents were mortified, they rarely spoke to him now. required family dinners at the dining table turned to just his parents eating together, liu in juvie and jeff in his room. jeff began getting violent towards his parents as well, especially his mom - he started spiraling after the fire, especially since the trio weren't bothering him anymore and it was driving him nuts. he would do freaky shit, showing up at their houses now, shattering their windows, killing their pets. they'd come and beat his ass, and he'd do it again. nobody wanted to get their parents involved by this point, they all did too much shit - but jeff was getting UNBEARABLE

jeff eventually was around 15 or so, liu was out of juvie and 19 and in community college bc he couldnt get into any of the universities he was dreaming about.

liu wasnt nice to jeff anymore. he wasn't "hardened" by his experience in juvie or anything, but whatever he saw in jeff was NOT his little brother anymore - if jeff spoke to him, he'd ignore him. if jeff got too close, he'd shove him off. if jeff slapped their mother, liu would punch him.

liu thinks it was bound to happen. he misses his little brother, even when he was a mean little kid - but he always knew there was something realy, really fucking wrong with jeff, and when he woke up to jeff on top of him, stabbing into him , he knew it was inevitable.

liu survived, the only one in his family to do so. he wondered what he could've done to stop it, especially as other kids began showing up in the news. he wonders if he shouldve just let jeff go to juvie. he's kinda shocked at the fucked up ass police sketches that pop up, he didn't really remember seeing that damn smile when jeff was on him

jeff continues fucking shit up and is a piece of shit all around

this is already pretty long so if anyone wants a less "backstory" version of headcanons and more current stuff just lmk ;3

#creeped #hcs #jeff the killer #homicidal liu #creepypasta #creepypasta hcs #jeff the killer hcs

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multifandominfj · 6 months

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I have watched this movie a total of five times now, and I’m completely enamored and in love with this movie. Ali and Humberly make my cheeks sore every time I’ve watched because all I did was smile and squee with joy watching one of my favorite holiday romance stories of all time.

I’m a sucker for a fake dating trope, it’s one of my favorites. And to see a movie where the two leads already don’t have to come out, not made a big deal of them being lesbians and have a healthy relationship with their parents was an added treat.

Now, for some of my favorite moments.

The first one being the exchange of the gloves. The fact that not only were they MATCHING, but the flirtatious texting had me gushing. That moment was so “Carol” coded, and I’m here for it.

The next one being the work Christmas party and where Amelia walks Daniella to her door. I think that was THE moment in the movie where they both realized they liked each other. “She’s the most unexpected Christmas Miracle.” ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! That was just so cute! Them dancing with each other at the party made my heart are warm and mushy, and where they both happen to gaze between each other’s eyes and lips at Daniella’s door; I was practically shouting “HEY, YOU TWO SHOULD KISS” at my tv.

The last is where both of the family helps with the declaration of love. I want someone to shout their love for me from the rooftops, while showing my photos of our favorite memories. They are beyond adorable when they act shy while telling each other how they feel.

AND THE KISSES ! Not only did we get one with the love declaration, but another at their Christmas dinner. They were perfect.

This movie is perfection, and it’s in my Top 5 favorite Christmas movies of all time. I hope Ali and Humberly know how many holidays they’ve made brighter with this movie. How many people they’ve made feel loved during a time of the year when they feel alone. I know they’ve helped me a great deal. ❤️

#friends and family christmas #hallmark movies #hallmark #humberly gonzalez #ali liebert #ali liebert has got me questioning everything about my sexuality #humberly gonzalez had me blushing the entire time #these movies are for queer girls #queer stories matter #sapphic representation matters #women the sapphics love

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deadmomjokes · 13 days

Note

Do you have any adventures of bean to share before you sign off for a bit? good luck with the move!

I wish I had more specific ones, but life is all blurring together at this point so I must settle for Tidbits: Moving Edition

She loves to pack stuff. I have no idea where it's coming from, but holy cow this kid. She's going to be the only reason we're completely packed and ready to go on time. Every morning, she hops in my bed and goes "Can we pack another box?" And any time we're not actively doing something, "Should we pack more boxes?" Her dad whispered to me earlier, understandably dumbfounded, "What is with the packing thing? Why is she so into this?" And she somehow heard it from the next room and merrily hopped in holding the roll of packing tape and said "I dunno, I just really like packing things." So... yeah. She's keeping us on task.

She has Plans for the drive. -First, we need to eat at Subway (she was very excited to learn she can, in fact, have Subway in moderation). -Second, we need to stay at one of the number hotels-- those being National 9, Super 8, and Motel 6. (She is bummed there's no 7 hotel.) -Third, if we successfully get a number hotel for one night, we also need to do a Red Roof Inn some other night. -Fourth, she wants to go inside a gas station and look at the maps. (She means the visitors guides and brochures that truck stops have when they're near-ish to state lines and/or tourist destinations.) -Finally, she wants to borrow my phone to take pictures. Unbeknownst to her, we are getting an old digital camera tuned up and outfitted with a child-proof case so she can have her own camera, because when she starts taking pictures it's an hours-long affair, and I kinda need my phone for GPS purposes. We're presenting her with said camera next weekend when we get the trailer, so hopefully she'll stay occupied while we do the part of packing she can't actually help with. But yeah, she knows how to set realistic, attainable goals, and I honestly think we can make these things happen for her.

She's been obsessively watching that Bluey special every day, and it Concerns me. See, she's generally quite media literate, and knows how to separate fiction from reality, and we had our big group cry about leaving our friends the first time we watched it. But. I am deeply worried that she's under the impression that we'll get all packed and ready to go and then do what Bluey's family did and decide to stay. I desperately hope not, but hoo boy, if that is the case, that's gonna be one heck of a 4-day drive. We've tried bringing it up and talking about it, but we still can't tell what's going on in that little noggin.

She is really, really sad about leaving her friends. I know that's not fun to hear, but honestly, I'm really impressed and proud of the way she's been handling it. She's come up with some great coping mechanisms all on her own: asking if we can get everyone's parents' Facebooks so we can do video calls, asking if we can do a party before she leaves so she can play with her school friends again (both yes, of course), and the one that truly floored me-- she asked if we can find "a new therapy place" when we get to where we're going. My four year old asked if she can go back to therapy, y'all. She's been 'graduated' since before Christmas, but she remembered that it helped when she was feeling anxious all the time and wants to do that again after we move. I just... Holy moly! I am so, SO proud of her for how she's so in tune with herself and her needs.

Her requests for our next housing situation have been few, but very specific. It has to let her get a pet, either a rabbit (maybe two so they can be friends), or a ball python, or both. It needs stairs so she can bumslide down them. It needs a pantry with a shelf she can reach for her snacks. And she'd really prefer if it had hard floors so we can get a fuzzy rug. We don't have it on lock yet (fingers crossed!), but the place that looks most likely meets all of these criteria.

That's all I've got for right now, because I need to go pre-plan what tomorrow morning's packing adventure is going to be so I don't have to think about it two minutes after opening my eyes.

#adventures of bean #moving adventures 2024

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pedroschka · 1 year

Text

not my type

Joseph Quinn x reader

words: 1.9k fluff

Summary: one sided feelings can destroy friendships, so you and Joe make it very clear that you both are not each other's type, pinky promise clear

A/n: @ghostinthebackofyourhead grab your favorite bread and (hopefully) enjoy because I'm your secret Santa!! thanks to @quinnyfairy for organising this <3

Mid laugh, brown eyes crinkling and his head thrown back, that's the blurry image of your best friend in front of you for the last two minutes.

"Joe as much I love to see your little potato head but your screen is frozen."

" ugh, shit! The bloody wifi connection at my parents' is the worst. Wait a second!" his voice on the other end is a bit muffled as he seems to be moving around, trying to fix it.

It was one day after Christmas and you and Joe are trying to have your own little celebration via video call while you both are at your family's and didn't want to wait till you eventually see each other in person again, unpredictable with Joe's busy schedule nowadays anyway. So you both had sent each other's presents via post and now wanted to unpack them together.

So now you sit on your bed in your old bedroom, presents scattered around you and your tablet in front of you with the frozen image of your laughing friend.

" OK, what about now?" Joe's face finally in time again and him waving at the camera

" yes, now get started I already tried peaking but you really are serious about your sticky tape"

" and see how it came in handy" his cocky little smile makes you roll your eyes while grabbing the first present on your left which already has a bit of wrapping paper ripped out, but sticky tape all around it preventing you from making out what it could be.

At the end, you both sit in a colorful mass out of wrapping paper, presents sorted in a little pile beside you, and now updating each other on the newest family tea.

" no! I swear my aunt was full-on gushing about how Eddie looked like her ex-boyfriend's when she was a teen and started showing pictures of you as Eddie all around the dining table, it was soo uncomfortable!" you comically shuddered and Joe's snickering like a little kid at your theatrics.

As comfortable and at ease you were now around him was the complete opposite when you first met each other a year ago.

You sat on your friend's couch, phone in hand, and playing some stupid game, that only seems to come to use in social situations out of ultimate boredom, but trying to look very busy for the people around you. Questioning why your friend even thought it was a good idea to invite you to one of her parties, celebrating whatever with a bunch of her actor friends, when you were the epitome of socially awkward and just overall really bad at meeting new people.

You tried, you really tried to be a part of some conversations, standing in a group full of, on first sight, cliché book extroverts, all of them with interesting lives and using big words talking about different plays, with you just standing there and fake laughing at their jokes you didn't understand and attempting to stop comparing yourself with them. Which didn't work so after a few exhausting hours in which you've been ignored or got an awkward "was nice meeting you" after you ranted too much about a topic you finally could understand you gave up. Your social battery drained and you loathing in self-pity.

Loud cheers and greetings make you look up from your phone, great even more people. The new guest is a very ordinary-looking guy, plain light washed baggy jeans hanging low on his hips, a plain white shirt, sneakers. Not bad on the eye with tousled brown curls as well as brown eyes but not really your type.

Still he held an aura around him that forced you to keep your attention on him, apparently the people around him felt the same effect as they were hanging on every word that was coming out of his mouth. Or is he... Famous around here?! And you are just the only one who has absolutely no idea who he is?

But you're already admiring him for a different reason, Looking so awkward but at the same time so charmingly charismatic and being able to find the right words and topic for each person. You couldn't help to be slightly jealous.

Forced to look down again as he looked across the room and dangerously close in your direction you continued your game, only looking up again as you felt the couch dip as someone sat themselves beside you, and you hastily tried to turn your phone away to not get caught.

"well, that looks fun" shit.

Unknown ordinary looking /maybe famous guy is smiling at you and nodding at your phone

"uggh, kinda" and your brain is letting you down again.

But he doesn't seem bothered by your brain-dead state and tried again to engage you in a conversation, ending up with him having your phone and you, hanging half over his shoulder, explaining to him how to play the game.

"oh, I'm Joe by the way!"

You met Joe a few times after that again and eventually exchanged numbers which resulted in a weird and chaotic friendship. With his ability to make you feel so comfortable around him and just being yourself, he has to endure your ranting over the most ridiculous topics or oversharing the most private things, but it doesn't seem to bother him, on the contrary, he seems to even encourage your weirdness and just adapt to it.

Because of this connection between you both, you lost count of how many times people thought you both were dating or how many times your friends and family tried to play matchmaker, so a pinky promise between you and joe was made that you both are on the same page, that you are not each other's type, both of you already familiar with how one-sided feelings can destroy a friendship, so better making sure at the beginning right?

It was now new years eve and like you planned with Joe in your last call you both were gonna drive over to a friend's house who's throwing a party to celebrate it together, in person this time.

Joe's gonna be at your place to pick you up in nearly 20 minutes and you're still sitting in front of your wardrobe in only your bathrobe and still wet hair, nibbling nervously on your fingernails and looking over all your clothes, eyes wide with panic debating what you should wear to look presentable for him.

Which is absolutely ridiculous because Joe has already seen you in your absolute worst states, coming over to you with pimple cream all over your face, greasy hair, and sloppy oversized shirts with holes and stains you couldn't even explain.

But you haven't seen each other for nearly a month now, well except for the few video calls but that's just different, and now you are a nervous mess, suddenly worried about your appearance and you hate it.

The buzzing of your doorbell makes you jump slightly, spraying the last bit of hairspray on your head and turning the music off, which you needed to hype yourself up, and speedwalking to the door, taking a deep breath before opening it.

Joe's standing in front of you in black slacks and a slightly striped white shirt, the last button undone and a necklace peeking out of it, and you feel your heartbeat throbbing in your ears.

With a happy call of your name, he went straight into a hug and you suddenly felt distracted by the smell of his perfume, still the same one you smelt a thousand times but different regardless, Like his arms around you, squeezing you firmly into him, it's like your sensory perception is on high alert and suddenly everything feels more intense.

The car ride to the party is awkward to say at least, your nerves preventing you from coming up with anything other than occasionally humming or nodding as an answer, and after a few more tries from Joe he gave up, thinking maybe you're just nervous again because of all the people that are gonna be there and needed a few more minutes for yourself, so the car becomes silent and you hate it because that was your least concern right now, you felt like a bad friend, not seeing each other for a month and you can't even talk to him because this bloody nervous feeling just won't go away. So you both just stare at the road in front of you.

It's loud and full and lights flickering everywhere and you're so overwhelmed and tense that the weird feeling is forgotten for a moment and you're clinging to Joe, following him around like a lost puppy. Him ordering drinks for you both and chatting with people, trying to include you, taking you with him for smoke breaks, the only time when you both are separated is when one of you has to go to the toilet.

A few minutes before midnight a group of people had gathered on the balcony, with them you and Joe, shouting the countdown to the new year and watching fireworks exploding and illuminating the night sky.

" happy new year!" you screamed in each other's faces and laughed as you tackle each other in a big hug. People around you doing the same or walking around and giving the traditional New Year kiss.

Observing this you both looked at each other and shrugged while giggling, both slightly tipsy, and pecked each other on the lips. Physical contact wasn't unfamiliar to you, both being touchy when around people you feel comfortable enough, small kisses when saying goodbye, or cuddling together on your small sofa when watching some movies weren't new either. What was new was the feeling you felt as your lips met his.

As you separated you looked into each other's eyes, you always thought that his eyes were beautiful, even told him so, but you never felt such strong emotions when looking into them, unable to hold eye contact your gaze trailed to his lips, so full and soft looking and you never felt such a strong urge either to be near them. Subconscious you both lean in again and your lips met again but this time for a real kiss.

Warm flooded your body and you can't think of anything else other than the feeling of his lips against yours. His hands found the back of your neck to bring you even closer and you copied him, trailing your fingers through his curls, both of you starving for each other's presence and hungry for more, captivated and lost in your own little world.

Until a person stumbles into you and you remember again where you are.

Both of you catching your breath as you separated again, waking up from the trance-like state, emotional chaos whirling up in you again because you just made out with your best friend, with which you made a silly pinky promise and made very clear to not be each other's type to save this friendship but now you experienced the best kiss you ever had and when you look at his face now he is so beautiful and you can't help to want to kiss those lips again but you were also so overwhelmed because what the fuck does this all mean now.

Luckily Joe answers your questions as he leans in again for a third kiss, shorter but still as breathtaking.

" I know we promised to be not each other's type but do you wanna go on a date with me?" he asked against your lips and you both giggled as you nodded 'yes' before going into another kiss.

(reblogs and comments are very appreciated additional to your likes)

#secret santa project #joseph quinn #joseph quinn x reader #joe quinn #joe quinn fanfic #fanfiction #joseph quinn fluff

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