#yes the third christmas fic is the puppy fic | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

apprenticestanheight · 4 months

Text

THE FIVE DAYS OF SMUTMAS QUEUE: DAY ONE

Bad Decembers - Adam Stanheight x gn! reader

OKAY!! I would not be me if I did not find a way to worm my love for the holiday season into my love for writing, so that's what the fics coming out in this queue are going to be—not all of them will be the pinnacle of the christmas season but all of them will at least be set in december and mentions of the holidays will probably worm their way into several, but the guarantees I can make are that the fics will either be close to or more than 1k words, and that there will, at a minimum, be snowy weather in the fics because we have gotten snow maybe twice where I am and I can't resist.

This one stems from a thought that I had on the sixteenth where I was like "okay angry and aggressive sex with adam, talk it out, then make up sex for round two yay" but it did change a little bit as things do when they start as ideas but get turned into fics! It's not that different from the original concept—the idea is the same it's just that round two is a little different than how I'd originally intended because I believe in my heart of hearts that Adam would be a fiend for giving oral so this fits that headcanon.

lastly, this fic is meant for audiences of 18+! Minors, DO NOT INTERACT.

Fic type- this is smut!

Warnings- adam is a guy with anger issues and they get the best of him (it is mentioned a couple of times that he punches a coworker in the face after he was provoked, and the work environment Adam is in is implied to be shitty anyway, as someone slapping someone else is also mentioned) the reader is gn for all intents and purposes but as I know the anatomy best, they're AFAB but referenced with gn terms and petnames (aside from the word pussy, which only gets used once), Unprotected sex, rough sex, reader is a masochist and Adam is kind of sadistic, oral sex (m! giving) bruises do happen because adam gets a bit manhandl-y and bruises and rough biting ensue, as does rough groping. Pet play is also in this one a few times (in use of the nickname puppy only, gn terms when smut writing aren't my strongest suit so puppy is for some reason my go-to)

December, despite all of the cheer and festiveness it usually carried, was just not your month, so it seemed.

Work was very, very difficult for you, which really shouldn't've come as a surprise come the last month of the year, but somehow always did.

Crappy coworkers always became the crappiest versions of themselves with the onset of the holiday season, and by December, amidst having to listen to your coworkers complain about how difficult their relatives were to shop for, several HR-funded Christmas parties where you and Adam would drink some of the cheapest booze and listen to your crappiest coworkers complain, and a Secret Santa gift exchange with a minimum—yes, a minimum, which to you seemed kind of ludicrous, though a max amount was certainly something you understood—spending allowance of $150 and a maximum of $380, you were angry and exhausted and looked forward to the nine days off you took between the twenty third and the thirty first like nobodies fuckin' business.

The only bright side to working in that company was the fact that you'd gotten the opportunity to get your secret santa—and one of the few decent coworkers you had in your offices, one named Claire who was actually breeching close friend territory more and more by the day—a bundle of things she'd mentioned really needing in those past few weeks thanks to the budget imposed by your offices.

You'd had the chance to get her a couple of the books she liked in addition to a couple of gift cards to grocery stores and gas stations as she was in a very tight situation with her mooch husband who refused to work point blank period. You'd gone over budget with her gift, actually, and it was the first and last year you'd ever do that.

You were working in marketing and sales and you made $2000 biweekly, which covered your half of rent and utilities, groceries and other bills with something like six hundred to spare to use as fun money. When you'd brought it up with Adam, who'd met Claire a good couple times at those Christmas parties and thought she was great for your morale, he'd supported you, said to go all out because you'd have the money back in your account two weeks from your latest paycheck anyway.

So, grocery cards, gas cards, books and around $100 in stowaway cash later, you'd gone over budget by $80 but had zero regrets because of how happy it made Claire at the end of the gift exchange.

For what it was worth—you were gifted a Nespresso and five boxes of Nespresso pods from someone who practically loathed you and probably wanted you to refuse it, but by the 21st you were so sick of work and people and everything else that you just faked a smile, said your thanks in a way that seemed just a little too sweet and definitely a bit too happy, and knew that you and Adam would cherish that Nespresso for all of the glorious coffee it made on your latest nights until it broke in the years to follow.

Getting home from the gift exchange at six, you were tired and angry at the world, pretty much, and it seemed—based on vibes alone—that Adam was much the same.

For Adam, though, it had definitely been work. After the trap, he'd switched from working as a glorified snitch for far less money than all of it was worth to working closely with a gallery that liked the shots he took enough to commission him for collections of photos. The commission money was certainly more than enough—from commissions, he got $3000 a month for 300 photos, which were typically displayed for six, eight, or ten months before he had to pick a new theme and the cycle repeated—but the gallery people he was working with were much like your coworkers in that they became the worst versions of themselves in the holiday season.

The collection he'd been trying to get together had been one part of a four hundred photo collection that captured Jersey in the winter which was due to start displaying on the 23rd and would stay up until the second of January the following year. He was working with three other people and the gallery staff and all of them were too stuck up to actually cooperate with him.

To that point, it had been twenty-one days of screaming matches, crappy coffee made worse by the bitterness Adam felt, and fighting day in and day out to keep his anger internal while he was in the apartment you shared because yelling at you, when he'd worked so hard to keep his anger issues in check? That was, under no circumstances, an option.

The first four months of your relationship had been spent with fights once every two weeks because Adam was still trying to learn how to keep his anger in check after letting it go unchecked for so long, and you'd been dating for five years. In those five years, after that rocky four months, you'd both found a balance and you both loved that balance. Adam wasn't going to fuck it up because he was angry at people who existed in a realm completely othered from the one where you were.

Well—he was going to try to avoid fucking it up for himself.

He's sitting on the couch, stewing in his anger when you come home. You grin at him, exhausted, and Adam leaves to the kitchen before you can get a word in—he'd been warned to expect a joint call sometime before midnight in relation to the collection that he had to take 100 photos for and he was antsy as well as angry, and he doesn't want you to see him like that, spiteful and angry at anything that breathes the wrong way.

He tries to make coffee with the pot you'd taken when you'd moved out of your parents place eight years prior, though the coffee machine seems to have a disagreement with Adams idea as it refuses to work, which causes Adam to snap.

"Fuck!" He shouts, hitting the coffee machine and regretting it because damn, plastic meeting knuckles is a horrible feeling. "All I need is some goddamned coffee, but no! The fucking machine—"

You step into the kitchen. When Adam hears your footsteps, he turns on his heels to face you, sees your grin.

"The coworker who loathes me gave me something that will definitely make your night a bit better," you say. "He probably wanted me to refuse but I figured we would need a new one soon anyway. It's a Nespresso, there are five different coffee types to choose from, and all you need to do is set it up. Shitty month?"

"Shitty is a fucking understatement," Adam grits his teeth. "I'm just so pissed off at the world right now, Y/N. I wouldn't be around me if I were you—when I get like this I am a flight risk because I tend to want to break things. Punched a guy in the face today and was reprimanded for an hour or three, which just made my day a lot fucking longer than it needed to be, and everything is shitty all the goddamned time and I'm sick of it."

You nod, further enter the kitchen and set the Nespresso up while Adam stews in his anger, trying to calm himself down in the ways he normally does only to find that nothing is working. He's frustrated with everything that's happened in the past three weeks, and the more he reflects on that time the angrier he gets.

And then, something happens. You accidentally sidestep onto his foot and the floodgates open, and he snaps. He screams for a solid five minutes about shit that doesn't even relate to you and you just—you just let him. You do fight back but it's like part of you understands that not all of it relates to you anyway so you just let him say his peace, and when he storms off, you don't follow him.

He goes to your bedroom, angry now with the events of the past three weeks, and the fact that he punched someone in the face, and with himself for snapping at you instead of just communicating, and he sits on the edge of the bed, staring at the wall and stewing within his anger until you're opening the door, poking your head in and meeting his gaze.

"You're still angry?" You ask, tone calm and even.

Adam nods, pursing his lips. He doesn't want to be angry anymore, doesn't want to do anything other than let everything go and apologize for all of the shit he berated you for, but he's still angry. Something within him isn't letting him let it go, even as much as he wants to.

"All right," you step into the room. "Would sex help? That way you can just get your frustrations out while also getting endorphins and all that other health shit."

Adam clenches his jaw. "No," he says. "We've never fucked while one of us has been angry, Y/N, and if I'm willing to punch someone in the face while I'm pissed off, I'm a little scared to find out how rough I would be willing to be with you if I did that while so mad I could smoke two joints and still feel it."

You shrug, leaning your back against the door to close it. "So be rough," you suggest. "I don't care, Adam—I think we've discussed it before, but I do like being manhandled. You can leave bruises, too. I don't care how rough you are with me, I just hate seeing you like this and if sex will take your mind off it and if it's something you're willing to do, I want to do it."

"I don't wanna leave you bruised," Adam says. He hates how obvious it is that he's half-lying. He doesn't hate the idea of you bruised—it's just how you end up as such—if someone else hurts you, he'll be ready to commit murder. But if he were ever to do that? He would feel immeasurably guilty.

"You're lying to me," you say, catching onto it immediately. "You don't want me bruised as in black eyes or punches or something else physical and abusive and you would never, ever do that to me so I'm not at all worried about that, but you would absolutely cherish the bruising on my hips and arms from holding onto me that tight during sex. I would cherish them, too, actually."

Adam tsks, "masochist," he says before biting on his bottom lip. He gets to standing, crosses the room and closes in on you, grinning as he feels your breath against his face.

"If I'm a masochist, you're a sadist," you whisper pointedly. Adams hands go to your hips, holding them tightly, thumbs pressing into your skin until he finds your hip bones and you moan just low enough for Adam not to hear it at the contact.

"Mhm," Adam whispers as he leans in so that his lips are millimeters away from your pulse point. "Gonna let me use you, puppy? Need an outlet for my anger, and you did offer."

"Yeah," Adam can't help but smile as he presses himself up against you and notices the way that your arms clench at your sides because you're physically trying to keep yourself from leaning into his touches, not wanting to give into it as quickly as you might've when he called you puppy. "All yours to use, Adam. Please. Don't want you to be angry anymore, and if using me is what it takes then go ahead."

Adams left hand moves from your hip to your face, thumb tilting your chin up and to the left so that he has better access to your neck.

"Good puppy," he whispers, this time close enough to hear the quiet moan that the praise pulls out of you. "That's all you are, isn't it? Just a good puppy, reliant on praise and my cock."

You haven't had sex since early November, so both of you are sexually frustrated, which is the icing on the fucking cake.

You moan in response, grinding your hips against him. He pushes his leg between your thighs as his tongue presses flat against your pulse point, the grip he holds on your hip remaining steady. The hand thats on your face moves down to your hip again, thumb pressing until it finds the bone.

"Mine to use," Adam says after a couple of seconds. The anger that's within him exists like a fire pit in his stomach, burning bright and burning hot and burning unrelentingly. "Right, Y/N?"

"However you want," You don't know how you're managing to speak. "As rough as you want, Adam—fucking hell. Please."

"You're perfect," he loosens his grip on your hips, kisses down your jawline until he's back at your lips again.

When he kisses his way up to your lips, the kisses he leaves in his path are rather sweet. His hands are groping aggressively at just about anywhere they can get to, and when his hands settle on your hips again, your lips are on his and the kiss he pulls you into, tongue sliding into your mouth as you open it in a quiet moan, is enough to leave your lips bruised.

Adam doesn't pull away until you're starting to and he's realizing that he can't really breathe. You press your forehead against his shoulder and take a deep inhale, arms settling around his waist.

Adam pulls away, cups your face in his hands. "Getting submissive on me already?" He asks teasingly, grinning at you a little. "Oh, Y/N. You're so easy."

You hum your agreement. "You always manage to make quick work," you murmur, moving to lay down on the bed that you share. Adam stops you, unbuttoning your work shirt and tossing it into the farthest corner of the room before you can go any further. You lay on the bed as Adam takes off the granddad sweater he'd chosen to wear after having absolutely nothing else in his closet during what would later turn into a laundry evening, happy to stare at the ceiling while you wait for your beloveds next move.

His lips are on yours again seconds later, one hand roving over your chest while the other is near your face after he'd bent his arm at the elbow to hold himself up.

After he's kissed you sufficiently, he moves his lips down your neck, kissing and biting and sucking at the skin mercilessly. You wonder, for a second, if he wants to draw blood and decide that if he does, you'll let him because the pain feels so good.

Adam laughs after he's bitten down on your collarbone particularly harshly and you've moaned lewdly, rolling your hips against his half hard length without thought.

"You're such a slut for pain," he nips at the skin again gently. "I really do think that I could cut you to pieces and you'd thank me for it, Y/N."

the thought of it makes your core wet, and so you give an embarrassed nod. Adam just laughs again, lifting your hips while still maintaining an aggressive hold on them and releasing that hold to take off your pants and underwear, leaving you completely open and bare in front of him.

You shiver as a gust of cold Jersey air gets through the room through the slightly opened window, nipples hard as pebbles from Adams ministrations, and watch him take his own pants and boxers off.

"Want me to wear a condom?" Adam asks.

You shake your head. "I can take a plan B pill," you respond. "Just--please. Please don't make me wait. Need you."

"Good puppy," Adam breathes. He goes back to kissing you before his lips move to your chest, biting and sucking at your nipples in the way he knows makes you melt the quickest. "Gonna let me do whatever I want, mm? Even if it means you're in pain?"

"Adam," you moan as he presses his cold tongue flat against your warm skin. "Fuck—mmm, whatever you want. Please, just—please don't stop. Please don't—"

"Pain slut," Adam laughs a little. "You love this, yeah? Love me using you, manhandling you, not giving a fuck if you get bruised up?"

You moan, pressing the back of your head into the pillow.

"Speak to me, baby," he murmurs, pressing kisses down your navel.

You whimper, bucking your hips against Adams shoulders and Adam repositions himself so that he's eye level with you again, holding your chin lightly.

"Use your words for me, baby," he says. "I know you love how this feels, yeah? I know you love it when I bite you because you like the pain that the biting draws out, but how am I supposed to know you want me to keep going if you don't tell me? How am I supposed to know you're not whimpering, not squirming, because the pain is too much?"

"Adam," you moan, rolling your hips against nothing. "Adam, it—you—oh my fucking—" you moan again, and Adam smiles.

He moves back to where he'd been before kissing down your navel to the place where you needed him most, kissing back up to your lips again and wetting his dick with the wetness from your folds before he thrusts into you in one fell swoop.

He gives you maybe three seconds to adjust to his length before he sets a quick, aggressive pace, one hand on your hips to keep you steady while the other sits on your breast, first finger and thumb pinching your nipple with as much force as he can muster. He needs the anger to be gone, needs it to be replaced by the comfortable, airy feelings that come with sex and post-sex glory, needs to get his anger out of his system before he's at risk of snapping at you again.

He thrusts with as much fervor as he can, trying to rid the anger from himself with each thrust. It works, for the most part, and when his hand finds your throat and presses on the sides but is careful to avoid the front, most of the anger goes out of his system completely.

You lean up into his touch, and Adam laughs at it.

"Pain slut," he whispers, leaning down to bite and suck at your nipples.

Adams release triggers yours, and Adam thrusts through the aftershocks before he pulls out, falling to your right and wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you close.

A few minutes pass by. You get up to use the bathroom and return to Adams embrace, press a kiss to his lips and look at him like you want to talk.

"You've been angry for three weeks," you say. "If you're in a talking mood, let's talk, yeah?"

"I know that photography is what I'm good at, and normally I love it but I think I have something of an independence issue with regard to working there," Adam admits, moving the hand that's on your waist up to your face. He just wants to kiss you senseless, kiss you until he forgets his own name and how to speak words other than yours, but he knows he owes you a conversation—an explanation, mostly, and an apology. "I just can't do it. I can't work with other people. Three people on this project besides me and all of us are in conflict day in and day out because we're all apparently averse to compromise, and yeah, I punched Harry in the face but he smacked Kelce the other day because he didn't agree with one of Harrys ideas. It was payback, which I know doesn't excuse it for shit, but—I just—"

You press a kiss to Adams forehead. "I'm sorry that work has been so terrible," you murmur. "Soon as you get this installation done, though, you'll be able to work on your own again. Gotta practice a bit of optimism, baby. Gotta see the bright side and all that."

Adam laughs. "There is no light at the end of the work related tunnel," he says. "I'll be due in to work with the same group of people in the spring, and then in summer, and then in autumn. I've been told I'll have to do my own installations on top of that, which will mean picking more themes, dealing with more disagreements."

He props himself up on his elbows, presses a quick peck against your lips.

"I'm sorry," he says, green-blue eyes meeting yours. "About earlier—snapping at you like that? It was a dick move, and with the coffee—I flipped my lid in a way that was completely unfair. I'm sorry you had to get screamed at like that, everything just boiled over and taking it out on you is the last thing that I should've done."

You nod. "It was a dick move, and you do kind of need to work on talking it out with me before the shit hits the very angry fan, but you're forgiven," you grin at him. "If it helps, work hasn't been a picnic for me either. Never is during December."

Adam groans. "You work in an office," he notes. "How many of your coworkers complained about how difficult it is to buy gifts on their salary?"

"Everyone who had anyone willing to listen," you laugh. "Claire liked the gift I got her for the Secret Santa gift exchange, though. Glad I was hers—were it Leon, I fear she would've gotten a book on being a housewife or some shit like that. James was the guy who got stuck with me, which means we have a Nespresso. Bastard probably wanted me to reject the gift, too, because he scowled from the window at me while I loaded it into the back seat of my car."

Adam laughs. "Good thing the old coffee machine broke when it did, then," he pecks your forehead, feels the desire to kiss you senseless evade all of his senses. "A broken coffee machine turns into a Christmas miracle! Oh, glorious day."

You laugh, hand moving up Adams shoulders until your cupping Adams face, hand resting against his jawline.

"Was my apology good enough?" Adam asks, dipping his lips to your neck as your hands slide back down his and you let your arms drape over his shoulders.

"Why do you ask?" You know why he's asking, but you want to hear him say it. He had his angry fun, and now you get a shot to have a bit of fun of your own.

"There's something that I haven't tasted since early last month," he kisses until he's at the center of your collarbone. "Miss it, is all. Had a bit of a craving lately too, if I'm honest."

You spread your legs on impulse, already weakened and ready to let Adam give in to his whims. It makes him laugh because of course the bastard notices the movement, and he nods.

"You're amazing," he presses kisses down your chest, careful to kiss lightly over the places where light bruising has started because of how aggressive he was with his groping, kissing delicately over the places where the bite marks remain. You hate how quickly he can get you hot and bothered but admire it all the same, hate how you thrive off the feeling of his wet kisses and his perfect tongue moving down and across your torso.

"You're depraved," you try to say it, but it comes out as a moan, and you feel Adams smile against your navel. "Absolutely fucking depraved, Adam."

"Well, if you weren't so fuckin' ethereal, I might be less depraved, but every time I look at you all I see is perfection. Can't help it, baby."

He kisses across your lightly bruised stomach to your hips, careful to kiss lightly over the already-forming bruises that match the shapes of his thumbs.

"'M sorry about these," he says. "Sorry about all of it—the bruises and the bite marks. I didn't mean to hurt you this bad."

"It doesn't hurt," you assure. "And even if it did—I like the pain, Adam. The pain is good, I promise."

He kisses the bruises on the sides of your hips, too, nods. "I momentarily forgot about the masochism," he admits. "They do look nice, but I just can't help feelin' bad about being that rough."

"Focus on how nice they look," you hope it comes out reassuring. "They don't hurt, Adam. I promise. If I tell you not to worry, will you listen?"

Adam hums, kisses along your stomach to your other hip and takes his time there as well.

By the time Adams gotten to your thighs, you're wet and aching and just about ready to start clenching around nothing. He's got you needy and wanting, which is what he wants, and he loves it.

He turns his gaze to yours as he presses his tongue flat against your clit, loving the way that you writhe, clenching around nothing in response.

"So wet for me," he says, kissing along the outside of your pussy. "Good God, you're perfect."

And then he's licking at your folds, eating you out like he's a man starved, and you're not even trying to be quiet because of how consumed you feel by his lips and his tongue.

He moans against you, clearly getting off from getting you off, and can't help but buck your hips against his face.

He laughs, pulling away for a second. "You're so fuckin' needy," he says, bringing one finger to your gaping hole and slowly pushing it inside you.

You clench around the digit, moaning. "You're the reason. You and your perfect tongue, your amazing lips," you moan, arching your back off the bed for a split second.

He brings his lips and tongue back to your clit, thrusting into you with one finger, doing as you wish when you start begging for a second and a third.

"Adam," you moan, "fucking hell—Adam,"

Your orgasm crests, and you feel Adam moan against you with his own release as you cum over his fingers.

Breathless, your gaze moves up to the ceiling as you feel Adam pull his hand away. You turn to him as you hear him get up, watch him make something of a show out of licking your cum from his fingers.

"Just as good as I remember it," he grins teasingly at you, leaves to go to the bathroom.

Ten minutes later, he's telling you that a bath is ready and you're leaning against him as you walk to your bathroom, sinking into the hot water and pressing your back against Adams front.

"I'll get better at communicating before it boils over," Adam murmurs, pressing an open mouthed kiss to your shoulder. "Promise, baby."

You hum, leaning against him. "We can work on it together, yeah?"

Adam nods. "That sounds like a nice idea," he says.

Silence lapses, though its comfortable. You get out of the bath tub and stumble back to bed because of how jello-y your legs feel, which Adam laughs at even though he knows he's to blame, and when you steal a pair of his boxers and one of his button up flannels, he doesn't object, merely pulls a pair of boxers and sweatpants on himself before joining you in bed and pulling you close.

The two of you fall asleep early that night, curled up together in the quiet of a Jersey evening in the tail end of December. Adam sleeps through the call from the gallery and you sleep through the call that Claire tries to get to you to talk about the aftermath of the Secret Santa gift exchange, but the sleep you get is so good that the missed calls feel entirely justified.

#adam stanheight #adam stanheight x reader #saw (2004)#saw posting

64 notes · View notes

randomfoggytiger · 1 year

Text

MSR Fic Tropes

Scully is The Ice Queen

Mulder was hated even in the VCU (in canon it wasn't until he rooted himself in the basement.)

Scully is shocked anyone thinks she's beautiful because Melissa was always "prettier."

Mulder married and divorced someone before his relationship to Diana (or concurrent to their early partnership.)

Scully is a bad cook (in canon she baked the Christmas dinner in Beyond the Sea, which Maggie complimented her on-- "delicious as always".)

Mulder was beaten as a kid by his abusive father (which I would argue is not canon-- slapping, yes, spanking, yes. Assault? No.)

Scully always "sighs, letting her eyes slip closed."

Mulder HATES hospitals: he is always allergic to the first pain killer he is given, always has a hidden secondary injury that is worse than the original one, and is always uncooperative and sabotaging to medical staff in his petulance. (In canon he's very pleasant to hospital staff-- Folie a Deux, Kill Switch, Signs and Wonders-- and only lashes out when he's panicked about Scully-- One Breath, Memento Mori, Redux II, etc.)

Scully refuses to tell Mulder "I love you" or commit to anything other than a casual relationship because she's a commitment-phobe (in canon, she starts the family planning discussion in Home and the motel cheese reception in Detour, and the "get out of the car" in Dreamland, etc.)

Mulder had a childhood dog growing up, or Samantha had a cat.

Scully's Katherine comes from her grandmother or great aunt.

Mulder would have become a child psychologist if he didn't go into the FBI.

Scully frequently has body dysmorphia or self-esteem issues.

Mulder is described as a puppy (no joke, I've been collecting every time he's referred to as puppy in fic... it's 17 pages long. Doesn't seem a lot... but it's a lot.)

Scully whispers. About. Everything. (I've also been collecting sentences in fic when Scully has whispered something... it's 113 pages long. And growing. Look for whispers-- you'll never unsee it.)

They leave notes in the office for each other signed with -S. or -M.

Mulder dog sat Queequeg at least once.

Mulder constantly gets caught up in VCU/BSU cases, losing himself in the process and almost committing suicide constantly (in canon, the first time he tried that-- the Bill Patterson method-- was in Grotesque; and he seemingly hasn't since. In fact, he highly discourages others from delving too deeply and losing themselves in madness by doing so.)

Scully and Mulder cry over songs about each other frequently.

Scully is justified in toying with Mulder's emotions by dating someone else to bait him but if Mulder does it then she cuts him out of her life (he usually doesn't because he's just so distraught with emotions for his Scully.)

Mulder's cologne is always spicy and his aftershave is always fresh.

Scully's shampoos smells like strawberries. Or peaches.

Mulder has amazing cholesterol despite his garbage diet.

If they have a tryst before canonical dating and Scully ends up pregnant, she will never communicate this to Mulder-- he will only find out years later when he runs across her and sees their child. This is always somehow his fault, of course.

If Mulder and Scully get together and get pregnant before canon, their first child is always a girl. She is named after Melissa, Samantha, or another woman from Scully's family.

If the pregnancy is somehow connected to the mytharc, it will usually always be twins or triplets (once it was two bio twins and a third miscarried "other", but that was a surrogate story.)

AU S9 fics: in older fics, Scully becomes a stay-at-home mom. In newer fics, Mulder becomes a stay-at-home dad. Rarely do they go back to the FBI together, even if Mulder gets the X-Files back.

Mulder starts cooking and gardening at the Unremarkable House.

Scully likes aging and Mulder does not.

Edit:

Scully is pink-cheeked when she gets out of the shower.

#txf #MSR Fic Tropes #Part I #tropes #fic #mine #Mulder #Scully #x-files #the x files #xf fanfic #x files #meta #xf fic #xfiles #writing

46 notes · View notes

evanesdust · 1 year

Text

MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!

this was written for MultiEleonora as part of her sterek secret santa event on twitter 😁 fic below the cut, but can also be read on ao3

Derek shakes his head as yet another rendition of Last Christmas blasts through the radio near the Christmas tree. It's the third one tonight.

Seriously, how many versions of this song are there?

At least there's still eggnog. Too bad it's not spiked, but Derek's still got three hours left on shift even though the holiday party's winding down.

The sheriff's office door opens as if on cue, and Sheriff Stilinski steps out, donning a Santa hat and fake beard. "Ho ho ho! Merry Christmas!"

Honestly, Derek's surprised that Stiles wasn't able to talk him into wearing the whole suit.

Not that it stopped Stiles from dressing up as an elf, complete with red, green, and white striped tights.

Stiles smiles brightly as he jumps out from behind the sheriff, following along and passing out little white envelopes that contain their holiday bonuses.

"And for you," Stiles says, bounding over to Derek like an overgrown puppy.

Stiles's scent washes over him like a warm bath. The little bells on his elf shoes chime with every shuffle of his feet.

Derek takes the envelope and gives the sheriff a quick nod before turning his attention back to Stiles. "You look ridiculous."

That only makes Stiles smile even bigger somehow. "Yeah, but you still love me."

Honestly, Derek's not sure how they ever got to this point, considering they could barely stand each other when they first met. It's not Derek's fault that Stiles was speeding and got pulled over. Of course, Derek didn't know that Stiles was the sheriff's son at the time, not that it would have mattered to him either way. Especially not when Stiles tried to flirt his way out of the ticket. Just because Derek was an alpha didn't mean he would succumb to a pretty omega batting their lashes at him.

When that didn't work, Stiles narrowed his eyes and demanded, 'Don't you know who my father is?'

Considering Stiles's driver's license was in his hands, marked clearly with the last name Stilinski, Derek had a pretty good assumption as to who Stiles's dad was. Stiles was not pleased when Derek signed and handed over the ticket anyway, obviously not caring that he was the sheriff's son.

And a day later, when Stiles brought the ticket into the sheriff's department, the smug grin left his face when the sheriff praised Derek for a job well done instead of ripping the ticket up.

It took four months before Stiles stopped glaring at him.

Derek's not exactly sure what changed over the course of those months or when he started looking at Stiles as something other than an entitled brat. It seemed reckless to think about him. About his hands, his mouth, his body. His fucking scent made Derek salivate. But it was as if Stiles's fucking smile alone tore through Derek's self-preservation, making it too easy to rationalize Derek's desire for him.

Not that Stiles wasn't still an annoying little shit who liked to push all of Derek's buttons. But at some point, Derek found himself wanting to shut Stiles up using his mouth instead of his fist.

It's been two years, and while Derek still wants to strangle him sometimes, there's no doubt that Stiles is the love of his life—as proven by the black tungsten band adorning his left ring finger.

Stiles punches his shoulder, pulling him from his thoughts; his mouth set in a hard line that doesn't look right on his beautiful face. "This is when you're supposed to say, 'Why yes, Stiles, I do still love you.'"

Derek snorts, drawing him close and rubbing their noses together. "Why yes, Stiles. I do still love you."

"Mmm…" Stiles leans into him, making a joyful sound that turns into a chuckle. "Deputy Hale…is that a nightstick in your pocket or are you happy to see me?" As he adjusts Derek's duty belt, Stiles grins, sliding the holster for Derek's taser to the side.

"You're an idiot," Derek says, rolling his eyes. He presses his index finger over Stiles's lips, already knowing there will be another quip of 'but you still love me.' "Yes, I still love you."

Stiles bites the pad of Derek's finger before sucking it into his mouth.

Fuck.

Derek reluctantly pulls his finger back because the last thing he wants or needs is to pop a boner in the middle of the sheriff's department. It wouldn't be the first time it's happened, so he knows that all the deputies would give him all sorts of shit about it.

The grin on Stiles's face says he knows exactly what he is doing.

"Oh, you're gonna get it when I get home."

Stiles reaches behind him and squeezes his ass while wiggling his brows. "Promises, promises."

"Be. Good," Derek says, punctuating each word with a kiss to the tip of Stiles's nose. God, he used to make fun of people who did sappy shit like this. But with Stiles, he doesn't care. Anything to keep Stiles looking at him like this. Like he's the only person who matters, like Derek's his whole world. "We wouldn't want you to land on the naughty list, now would we?"

"Why? What are you gonna do? Spank me?"

"Don't. Tempt. Me." Derek lets out a low growl, already imagining Stiles's ass, red from the slaps.

Stiles gives him a wide-eyed look that's two parts mischief and one part innocence. "Who, me? Never. Besides, is it really naughty when it brings so much pleasure?"

Derek throws his head back and barks out a laugh. "Why do I put up with you?"

"Because of all the naked, fun sexy times we have," Stiles says with such a straight face that Derek can't help but laugh again.

"You only want me for my body, don't you?"

"It's a very nice body." Stiles doesn't bother with subtlety as he lets his gaze roam down the length of Derek's body. And if it were anyone else, Derek would feel outright violated by the eye-fuck. But with Stiles, the perusal is like an electric current under his skin. It makes his body sing.

"You're lucky I love you."

"I know." The words are said so softly, so sincerely, and with a smile that has Stiles's eyes crinkling in the corners, which always makes Derek's knees go weak.

Derek has to kiss him. It's a need that drives him forward, cradling Stiles's head as their lips touch. Though, being in the sheriff's station, he has to hold himself back from kissing Stiles as deeply as he'd like.

Instead, Derek slides his hands down Stiles's sides, slipping them under the hideous green tunic as he kisses the corner of his mouth.

The tights Stiles is wearing are butter soft. And smooth. A little too smooth.

Derek pulls back, eyes narrowed as he cups the swell of Stiles's ass. "You're not wearing anything under these, are you?"

Stiles gasps in mock indignation. "Why, Deputy Hale, what kind of man do you think I am? Of course, I'm wearing...something under these."

Something.

Heat courses through Derek's veins. All logic flies from his mind as he grips Stiles's wrist, tugging him from the bullpen and down to one of the empty offices.

The door clicks shut behind them, bathing them almost completely in darkness. There’s minimal light peeking through the closed window blinds, but it's enough for Derek.

"What are you doing, Derek?" Stiles asks, but Derek can hear the smile in his voice as the air around them grows heavy with his arousal.

Derek locks the door and backs Stiles up against the wall, growling as he noses along Stiles's chin. "Don't play coy."

"I'm not sure I know what you're talking abou—" Stiles's words are cut off with a gasp when Derek shoves his hands down the back of Stiles's tights.

Stiles's skin is warm and soft, so soft. Derek lets out a pleased sort of rumble-purr as he squeezes Stiles's ass. His fingers brush over delicate lace, and he groans.

"Told you I was wearing something."

Derek doesn't even have to look to know Stiles is wearing a red lace thong. The red lace thong. It's Derek's favorite with the way it shows off his pert ass. The first time Derek saw it was when he surprised Stiles after work one day. They'd been dating for a few weeks at that point, but Stiles had given Derek a key to his apartment. After working an overnight shift, all Derek wanted to do was crawl into bed beside Stiles, so instead of going home, he went to Stiles's apartment and let himself in.

Stiles had been sprawled out in bed, the covers pooled at his waist. He wore Derek's old football jersey. The sight sent a wave of possessiveness through him like he'd never felt before. He wanted nothing more than to mark Stiles all over so everyone knew that Stiles was his.

Derek had undressed faster than ever before and crawled onto the bed, kissing Stiles’s back as he rucked the jersey up while sliding the blankets down so he could bite his ass. However, he stilled when he saw the dark red lace thong Stiles was wearing.

It wasn't something he'd ever seen before, so he wasn't ready for his own reaction to it.

His cock had gone from half-mast to rock-hard immediately. Before that day, the most he and Stiles had done was handjobs and blowjobs, but at that moment, he feasted on Stiles like he was a man starving.

They didn't leave Stiles's bed for anything other than the bathroom and food for the next two days.

"There's another surprise." Stiles's sex-drenched voice pulls Derek back to the present. His pupils are blown wide with a primal and feral look that makes Derek's blood catch fire.

Derek hadn't anticipated doing anything here. Hell, Stiles probably hadn't either. He'd probably only meant to tease, but he should know better. Stiles should have known that when it comes to him, Derek's like a live wire, all coiled, sparking energy just waiting to strike.

He tangles his fingers in the hair at the nape of Stiles's neck and crushes their mouths together. It's a passionate kiss, fierce and claiming as Derek ravishes him. But Stiles takes as much as he gives, so Derek's not at all surprised when Stiles yanks his head back and flicks his tongue out to lick a long line up Derek's throat, making him growl.

As an alpha werewolf, he doesn't let anyone do this—wouldn't allow himself to be this vulnerable. But it's Stiles, and for him, Derek would willingly submit.

Without wasting another second, Derek turns Stiles, one hand on the back of his head, holding him to the wall. "Bend over. Now."

Stiles whimpers, his breathing erratic and shallow, but he complies. With his hands beside his head, he pops his ass out.

Derek slaps his ass once, then twice, before sliding Stiles's tunic up and hooking his fingers under the waistband of Stiles's tights.

When Stiles lets out a pleasure-filled groan, Derek smirks. "You ready to show me that tight little hole?"

"You ready to put up or shut up?"

Derek hates to reward such sassy behavior, but he honestly can't wait to taste the slick dripping down Stiles's taint and balls. He gets to his knees, slowly lowering Stiles's tights, revealing his ass and that thong. It makes Derek want to bow to whatever deity deemed him worthy enough of this gift.

He kisses his second favorite mole—just above the swell of Stiles's right ass cheek. Yes, he has favorites. The first is the mole on the inside of Stiles's left thigh. He remembers the way Stiles's legs quivered when he spent an inordinate amount of time lying between them the first time he sucked Stiles off. He would pull away every time Stiles got close to the edge and place a kiss on that mole while praising him.

'So good for me,' he'd say while Stiles whimpered, groaned, and cursed.

Between the memories and having Stiles bent over in front of him like a perfect glowing angel, Derek's achingly hard.

Just a taste, he tells himself. But then he spreads Stiles's cheeks and damn near chokes on his tongue.

It's not the first time Stiles has worn a plug outside their home. Derek knows he loves the way it brushes over his prostate just right, but this is the first time Stiles has worn one with Derek's name emblazoned on its base.

Fuck.

Derek was never this possessive before, but since they started dating, he's had this primal need to mark, mate, and claim. And seeing his name guarding Stiles's hole is no different. It makes a dark, animalistic lust sweep through him.

He takes hold of the base, fucking Stiles with short, shallow pumps over and over.

Stiles shudders. His legs tremble, his back muscles ripple with every movement, and his shoulders tense as he claws at the wall. "Oh yes, oh fucking yes, please."

Derek can't help leaning in and sinking his teeth into the meaty part of Stiles's ass.

The only other sound in the room is a slick squelching every time Derek pushes the plug back into Stiles's hole. Derek spreads Stiles's cheeks as best he can with his other hand and laps up the slick around the plug.

"So good," he murmurs, pulling the plug out and burying his face in Stiles's ass. He unhooks his duty belt with one hand and gets his pants open. He'd only meant to tease Stiles a little, get them both worked up so they'd be raring to tear each other's clothes off when Derek got home later. But now, all he can think about is burying himself in the tight heat of Stiles's body.

He really should have known better.

Derek wrenches himself away, not even giving Stiles enough time to protest before spinning them and pinning Stiles to the conference room table as he enters him in one hard thrust.

"Oh God!" Stiles cries out.

Derek covers Stiles's mouth, bending over him and breathing into his ear. "Gotta keep quiet, baby."

They both know the conference room is soundproofed, but the idea that they could be caught, that someone could hear them plants tempting images in his head. Stiles, too, if his muffled groan and the way his hole clenches around Derek's cock are any indication.

"You'd like that though, wouldn't you?" Derek pulls out to the tip and thrusts back in. "Someone hearing you. Someone walking in right now and seeing you bent over for me."

Stiles stares at him with a look of pure need and pleasure. His eyes scream, 'Yes.'

Though, they both know that Derek would never let anyone see Stiles like this. No, this—Stiles spread out all pliant and willing—is for Derek's eyes only.

As Stiles groans, urging him on, Derek refuses to rush. He eases into him with slow, measured strokes that he knows Stiles loves. Especially when his eyes close. Stiles had once said it was like heaven to him and that nothing had ever felt so good.

Derek inhales deeply, drunk on the scent of Stiles and the way they fit together.

Stiles's lashes flutter as his mouth falls open in a silent cry, his lips swollen and red from biting back his moans. He looks like debauchery and sin.

Derek grinds against him, licking up the bead of sweat that trickles at Stiles's temples.

"Derek," Stiles whispers.

"Derek," he groans.

"Derek," he curses.

"Derek," he cries as if Derek's name fills his every emotion.

Stiles clenches around him, his body rigid, tightening around Derek's cock as he throws his head back in ecstasy. Derek's name is a hoarse cry on his lips.

Good God. With Stiles splayed out for him to take freely and willingly, he's going to combust.

He moves faster and harder, flattening his chest against Stiles's back as he ruts against him, chasing his orgasm.

It's coming.

Rising.

Building, building, building until it crashes over him like a wave—drowning him as he comes apart at the seams.

"Fuck."

It takes a minute to regain his bearings, but he shakes his head when he does.

It's certainly not the first time they've fucked at the sheriff's station. Still, he always wonders how the hell he manages to lose any semblance of self-control and professionalism. Then he looks at Stiles, with his hair stuck to his forehead, his face shining with sweat, and he remembers that he's never had any when it comes to him.

Stiles's laughter is loud and enticing in the darkness of the room.

"The fuck are you laughing at?" Derek asks, pulling out.

"Sorry, I was just wondering what the fuck was in my tights, and I think it's the plug."

"What?" But when Derek looks down, the metal plug sits nestled in Stiles's tights that are bunched around his thighs. He reaches down for it and grins as he slides it up the inside of Stiles's thighs.

Stiles gasps and then groans when Derek pushes it back inside him.

"Don't take it out," Derek whispers, placing a kiss on the small of Stiles's back. He tugs his pants back up, zipping up. "I'll be right back. I'm gonna get stuff to clean up."

After quickly grabbing some cleaning supplies from the storage closet, he and Stiles make sure the conference room is exactly as it was before they defiled it.

The same can't be said for themselves. They head to the bathroom and splash water on their faces, but no amount of freshening up can cover up what they just got up to. Their faces are red, hair disheveled despite running through it with wet hands, but they've been away from the party long enough that they can't avoid it any longer.

Thankfully, no one seems to pay them any attention when they get back to the bullpen. At least not until someone yells, "Yo, Derek!"

Derek turns at the sound of his name, giving a small smile to their newest deputy.

When Farrow holds a hand out, Derek shakes it. "Hey, how's it going?"

"Good. Good. Just got back from patrol." Farrow glances between him and Stiles, his eyes narrow for a moment before a knowing look crosses his face. "You must be Derek's husband."

Stiles grins. There's a teasing glint to it that has Derek pinching the bridge of his nose. Stiles loves messing with the new deputies, and somehow Derek already knows what's about to happen when Stiles turns to him, mouth dropping open in apparent shock. "You're married?!"

The look on Farrow's face is comical. It's horror and dread mixed with confusion as he lets out a nervous laugh. It's fairly obvious what Stiles and Derek were doing before walking back into the party. And now poor Farrow probably thinks he inadvertently caught them red-handed—or red-faced, considering their disheveled appearance. "I, uh…"

"Please excuse him," Derek says, shaking his head. "Yes, this is my husband, and he likes to think he's funny."

"Excuse you. I am funny." Stiles sticks his tongue out at Derek before reaching out and shaking Farrow's hand. "Nice to meet you. Stiles Stilinski-Hale," he says, gesturing to himself, "Also known as a pain in this one's ass."

Derek kisses the side of his head. "And I wouldn't have you any other way. Let's go easy on the new guy, though, alright?"

Stiles pouts. "You never let me have any fun anymore."

Farrow lets out another nervous laugh because what else is anyone supposed to do with Stiles's antics? "Well, it was nice to meet you."

After Farrow walks away, Derek nips Stiles's earlobe. "I'm not really sure he thinks it was nice to meet you."

"Eh, wouldn't be the first time." Stiles shrugs as if he doesn't have a care in the world. "I seem to remember a certain sourwolf who didn't care for me much when we first met."

"And look at us now." Derek kisses him before nudging him away. "Now go before you get me in any more trouble."

When Derek swats his ass, Stiles gasps in mock indignation. "Oh, careful there, Deputy Hale. We wouldn't want you to land on the naughty list, now would we?"

Derek winks at him. "Someone's gotta keep you company."

All too soon, the party is over. As much as Derek would love to clock out and go home with Stiles, he still has a couple of hours left on his shift.

Stiles gives him a lingering kiss, earning them catcalls from the remaining deputies. "I'll see you at home. I love you."

Derek flicks the bell on Stiles's Christmas hat before reluctantly letting him go. "Love you too."

#sterek #sterek fic #sterek secret santa #holy shit i wrote something

30 notes · View notes

bylerbigbang · 1 year

Text

Gay Happy Feelings

15k words | Rated Teen

Literature teacher Mike Wheeler hates everything about Christmas, but he has a month to stage the school’s Christmas play, in collaboration with Will Byers, art teacher and Christmas fanatic. But their opposite views might not be the biggest obstacle to the play’s success, as Mike’s past comes back to haunt him.

Warnings: Some swearing, homophobia, unconsented outing, children getting poisoned (they get sick, no one dies, and no one wanted them to die)

Read the fic here!

Check out the art!

Check out the playlist!

Read an excerpt below!

If he was honest, Mike didn’t expect the art teacher to look like this. Call him prejudiced, but to him art teachers were either middle-aged women who were way too much into astrology, or white men with dreadlocks. Will Byers was neither. He looked more like a nerd, with his bowl cut and his checkered button-down. That said, if anyone could rock a bowl cut and still look good, it was that guy, and the shirt hugged some broad shoulders. Mike could feel blood rush to his face, but he carefully ignored it. He was here for a reason after all.

“Mister Byers?” He asked, voice a bit higher-pitched than he planned. “Yes?” The man answered, looking a bit confused. Right, he probably had no idea who Mike was, thanks to him, never meeting his colleagues for lunch or… Anything really. What could he say? He liked his alone time. “Michael Wheeler,” he introduced himself. “I teach literature…” “Oh you’re here about the play!” The man’s face lit up. “Please, call me Will, I’m so glad you’re here to help! It is going to be so great! Do you already know what kind of play you want to do? More Santa related, or like, Nativity play?”

And he was looking at Mike, sparkles in his big hazel eyes, and Mike knew right then right there that he was totally done for. He couldn’t do it, but he couldn’t not do it. Because there was this full-grown man making puppy-dog eyes at him, and saying no wasn’t an option anymore. Instead, he sighed.

“Is there a third option? Something that isn’t about Baby Jesus, but not about Santa either? I hate the dude. “Which one?” Will said, laughing in disbelief. “Santa. From what I know, Jesus seemed like a chill guy, but not everyone in this school is a Christian so it seems a bit unfair to do a play about him. Santa… Santa is just such a…” He caught himself before spouting some profanity, glancing at the students still painting. “Bad guy.” He finally chose to say. “ A bad guy?” Will asked, shocked, “We’re talking about the plump grandpa going all around the world to give free presents to kids?” “Yes,” insisted Mike. “The one who is supposed to give nice presents to good kids and bad presents to bad kids, but somehow rich kids get the latest game console and poor kids get off-brand shoes to replace the ones they have that are too small for them. Classist bas…soon”

Nice recovery.

#byler #byler big bang #byler fanfiction #byler fanart #gay happy feelings #masterpost

14 notes · View notes

inevitably-johnlocked · 3 years

Note

Hi Steph! Would you happen to have any fic recs that involve John meeting the Holmes family? I always think that's such an interesting dynamic to see! Also, I think this goes without saying but I love your blog and appreciate your contributions to the fandom! Thanks!

Hey Nonny!

Ah, thank you! I’m glad you enjoy my blog!

Oooo! Yes, I love that dynamic too!! ANNNNND!!! You’re giving me the chance to make a part 2 for a REALLY OLD LIST!!! So YAY!!! I found a bunch on a text doc I haven’t posted yet, so HERE WE GO! Hope you enjoy, and as always, everyone please add your own!

PARENTS AND FAMILIES Pt. 2

See also:

Parents & Family

Meeting the Family With a Fake Relationship

Do You Love Me? by whitchry9 (K, 641 w., 1 Ch. || Friendship, Family, Epic Bromance) – John asks Sherlock perhaps the most important question.

Once Upon A Time by ProfessorSquirrell (T, 908 w., 1 Ch. || Family, Snippets of Life, Romance, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Implied Drug Use, Angst with Happy Ending) – There is a room in Sherlock's mind palace where nothing gets deleted. And it looks like this...

Crisis Averted by Spartangal22 (T, 2,188 w., 1 Ch. || HLV Fic, Missing Scene After Confronting Mary, Canon Compliant, Sherlock Whump / Mary Shot Sherlock, Family / Friendship, Hospitalization, Sherlock POV, Holmes Brothers) – Lying in the hospital, Sherlock receives some surprising visitors, and manages to deal with two problems he's been having lately. A missing scene from HLV about a formal introduction that was never made and a visit that was never shown.

The Only Available Transportation by blueink3 (T, 5,379 w., 1 Ch. || Post S4, Fluff and Angst, Insecure Sherlock, Caring John, Parentlock, Sherlock’s Birthday, Family, Misunderstandings) – It’s possibly the desperation that’s seeped into his voice despite his best intentions, or perhaps it’s just a mother’s intuition, but she knows that whatever he’s calling about is Serious, hangover be damned. “What’s happened?” she asks, tone soft and as comforting as a hot cup of tea on a cold winter’s night. “Mummy,” he begins, voice catching. “I think John may be moving out.”

On the Steadfast Approach of an Oncoming Darkness by 2bee (T, 7,772 w., 1 Ch. || Apocalypse, Minor Character Death, Sort of Parentlock) – The world is ending. Not fast, but slowly, like falling asleep with a fever.

The Name Game by ItsClydeBitches221B (K, 8,958 w., 1 Ch. || Humour, Family, Platonics / Friendship, Sort-of Parentlock, John/Mary, Mary is Nice, Five and Ones, Baby Watson, Mycroft Loves Baby Watson) – The names that baby girl Watson comes up with for her extended family. Or: how everyone—Watsons, Holmes, and others alike— just learned to give up and embrace their weirdness.

The Burning of the Leaves by blueink3 (M, 15,915 w., 3 Ch. || Post S4, Angst, Reichenbach, Parentlock, Past Jolto, Idiot John, Sherlock’s a Mess, Puppies, Fluff, Possessive / Jealous Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Sherlock POV, Matchmaker Sholto, Melancholic Feelings, Emotional Sherlock, Domesticity, Love Confessions in the Rain, Kissing in the Rain, Pet Names) – After the events of series 4, Major Sholto invites John and Sherlock to lunch one day. It nearly proves to be too much for their tenuous relationship as the past haunts the present, putting the future that Sherlock so desperately wants at risk.

Permanent Fixture by vitruvianwatson (E, 18,836 w., 9 Ch. || Post-S4, Parentlock, Slow Build, Friends to Lovers, They’re Good Parents, Blushing Sherlock, First Kiss/Time, Explicit Consent, Sexual Content, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, Big Feelings, Crying, First Kiss, Fluff, Anxious Sherlock, Inexperienced Sherlock, Emotional Communication, Love Confessions) – Now, as Rosie sat curled up against Sherlock’s side, John watched and wondered exactly how he had ended up here. Domesticity had never suited him before, not at any point in his life. His disastrous marriage had been proof of that. But somehow, here in the warmth and safety of 221B Baker Street, here with Sherlock Holmes reading medical jargon to his daughter, Sherlock’s bony feet nudging against his leg, John couldn’t imagine anyplace that would make him happier.

Dropping the Act by jadztone (T, 27,258 w., 10 Ch. || Parentlock, Fake Relationship, Mary’s Family, Post-S4, Cuddling & Snuggling, Bed Sharing, Pining, Christmas) – Sherlock and John are quite happy living together with Rosie in Baker St. They might be even happier if they didn’t act towards each other like their love is only platonic. Mycroft brings troubling news in the form of Mary’s parents wanting to know just what their grandchild’s home life is like. The boys decide to spend Christmas pretending like they are in love in order to seem more like a "normal" family. It's easy enough to pretend when all you're doing is dropping the act.

An Acquired Taste by kinklock (E, 31,059 w., 4 Ch. || Vampires AU || Vampire Sherlock, Misunderstandings, Bat!Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Humour, Magical Realism, Fluff and Angst, Blood Drinking, Holmes Family, Slow Burn) – At Montague Street when Sherlock was forced to sate his body’s needs, he was at least able to wander about the flat as much as he pleased. At Baker Street, it was mini-bags in a mini-fridge and bedroom confinement.

Chaperones by MissDavis (T, 34,114 w., 7 Ch. || 11 Years Post-S4, Fake Relationship, Parentlock, Disney World, Bed / Room Sharing, Friends to Lovers, Fluff, First Kiss, Obsessive Sherlock, Insecure John) – Right. Of course. Everyone assumed they were a couple and no one would question it. John put his elbows up on the table so he could rest his head in his hands. "You want to pretend to be a couple so we can chaperone a trip to Disney World with Rosie's class and you won't have to share a room with a stranger?" "Exactly." Sherlock beamed at him. "Don't worry about the cost. The Birmingham case last month paid more than enough to cover expenses for all three of us."

Where The Ghosts Have Voices by HappyJuicyfruit (M, 37,691 w., 12 Ch. || Supernatural AU || Ghosts, Magical Realism, Light Horror, Fluff and Smut, John Can See Ghosts, John Whump, Emotional Manipulation, Dark Magic, Coma, Injury Recovery, Blow Jobs, Anal, Happy Ending, John’s Past, Mr Holmes, Powerful John, Holmes Brothers, Sherlock’s Past, Past Viclock, Drug Abuse, Hair Pulling) – John has lived his whole life as an outcast. It is only when he meets Sherlock, that be realizes being a freak might not be such a bad thing, and that the curse he has lived with his whole life may be a gift after all. (TO READ)

Anchor Point by trickybonmot (E, 49,856 w., 80 Ch. || Truman Show AU || Psychological Drama, Suspense, Slow Burn, Dark Characters / Fic, Alternating First/Third Person, Protective John, Anxious/Worried Sherlock, Tender Moments, Love Confessions, Hand/Blow Jobs, Cuddling, Jealous John, First Kiss/Time) – The world tunes in nightly for Sherlock, the ultimate in reality TV: Sherlock Holmes, a real person with a legendary name, unknowingly lives out his life in a staged setting contrived by his brother. Things get complicated when a retired army doctor joins the show to play the part of Sherlock's closest friend. This fic borrows its concept from the 1998 film, the Truman Show. However, you don't need to have any knowledge of the movie to enjoy this story.

The Hollow Woman by ScopesMonkey (M, 51,335 w., 22 Ch. || Post-TRF, Major Character Death, Mystery, Romance, Friendship, Family, Angst, Crime, Reunion, First Kiss / Time, Nightmares, Doctor John, Jealous Sherlock, Jealous John, BAMF John, Angry John, Dub-Con, Rough Sex, Bottomlock, Possessive John, Villain Mary, Open Ending) – Forced to return to London sooner than expected, Sherlock falls into a case too close to home. Part 1 of the Hollowverse series

Repairing the Broken Things by BakerTumblings (M, 75,252 w., 15 Ch. || S4 Compliant, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Medical Trauma, Hospitals, Big Brother Mycroft, Misunderstandings, Realizations, Severe Accident, John Whump, Pneumonia, Medical Procedures, Bed Sharing, First Time, Healing, Happy Ending) – "I'm calling today to notify you that there's been an accident."

Points by lifeonmars (E, 53,791 w., 42 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || HLV Rewrite / Canon Divergence, Married Life, Pregnancy / Baby Watson, Drinking to Cope, Boxing / Fisticuffs, Clueless John, Angst, Minor Medical Drama, Tattoos, Christmas, First Kiss/Time, Eventual Happy Ending, Love Confessions, Doctor John, Sexuality Crisis, Slow Burn, Case Fic, Drugging, Blow/Hand Job, Emotional Love Making, Parenthood, Passage of Time) – What if His Last Vow never happened? This fic picks up a few months after John and Mary's wedding, in an alternate universe where Magnussen doesn't exist, but Mary is still pregnant. Life continues -- just in a different direction. And slowly, Sherlock and John find their way to each other.

The Monument of Memory by J_Baillier (M, 79,663 w., 14 Ch. || Post S4 Fix It Fic / S4 is Canon, Angst, Family Drama, Guilt, Case Fic, John Loves Sherlock, Complicated Feelings, Mentalism / Hypnosis, Murder, Grieving John, Sherlock is a Bit Not Good, Team Work, Trust Issues, BAMF John, Psychological Trauma, Protective John, Autistic-Spectrum Sherlock, Parentlock, John POV) – A genius traumatised by a past he's only beginning to recall. The psychopath sister that time forgot. A missing woman and a mentalist who may or may not be a murderer. And, in the middle of it all, stands John Watson.

Kintsukuroi by sussexbound (E, 91,823 w., 20 Ch. || S4 Compliant / Post-TLD, Grief / Mourning, PTSD, Internalized Homophobia, Therapy, Past Abuse, Alcohol Abuse, Nightmares, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Depression, Anxiety, Bed Sharing, Love Confessions, Cuddling, Suicidal Ideation, Masturbation, Minor Character Death, Sexting, Frottage, Inexperienced Sherlock, Rimming / Anal / BJ’s, Emotional Turmoil, Finding Each Other) – “I love you.” Sherlock sees the words hit John with almost physical force. He reels back a little, jaw twitching and eyes filling. “I love you,” he repeats, a little softer, a little more gentle, as earnest as he possibly can. Because they’ve been teetering on the brink of this thing for years, and it had become painfully obvious over the last few months that they were at a tipping point. This had to happen. Now it has. Now they can see where they end up. The tears in John’s eyes spill over, and he wipes at them angrily. “Do you even know what that means?”

The Summer Boy by khorazir (T, 94,706 w., 6 Ch. || Post S3/Post TAB/Alternate S4, Friends to Lovers, Asexual Sherlock, POV Sherlock, Flashbacks, Bullying, 1980′s Kid Sherlock, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Inexperienced Sherlock, Grief/Mourning, Pining Sherlock, Case Fic, Sherlock’s Past, Awkward Conversations, Anxious Sherlock) – About half a year after the fateful events at Appledore, Sherlock and John embark on a private case in Sussex. For Sherlock, it’s a journey into his past, bringing up memories both happy and sad that he has locked away for almost thirty years. For John, it means coming to terms with the present – and a potential future with Sherlock. Part 1 of the The Summer Boy series

The Wedding Garments by cwb (E, 105,390 w., 36 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Alternate Future AU || Alternate First Meeting, Dating / Arranged Marriages, Romance, First Kiss/Time, Heavy Petting, Cuddles, POV Sherlock, Virgin Sherlock, Idiots in Love, Slow Burn / Falling in Love / Dev. Rel., Nervous/Anxious Sherlock, Jealous/Cranky, Hiking, Vacation Homes / Honeymoon, Sherlock’s Family, Horny John/Sherlock, Patient John, Massages, Hand Jobs, Assassination Plots, Hand Jobs / Oral Sex, Case Fic, Emotional Love Making, Bath Time Fun) – This is the story of a young consulting detective who wants nothing to do with marriage and an army doctor who wants to find true love. It's 2020 post-Brexit England and the British government is encouraging arranged marriages. Candidates meet through state-run agencies and date in hopes of finding love (and tax benefits). Sherlock doesn't need or want a spouse, at least not until John Watson shows up. Hesitant to give in to his more carnal urges because of the way they derail his mind, how will Sherlock progress toward the more intimate aspects of a relationship? The answer lies in a very special wedding gift.

The Bang and the Clatter by earlgreytea68 (M, 137,049 w., 37 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Baseball AU || Slow Burn / Dev. Rel., Possessive/Obsessive Sherlock, Jealous Sherlock, Mutual Pining, Body Appreciation, Depression, Closeted Sexuality, Family, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Ogling Each Other, Anxious Sherlock, Panic Attack, Drunkenness, Talk of Forever, Big Feelings™) – Sherlock Holmes is a pitcher and John Watson is a catcher. No, no, no, it's a baseball AU. Part 1 of Baseball

The Lost Special: Family Matters (As Do Relationships) by ShirleyCarlton (M, 144,688 w., 40 Ch. || S4 Fix It Fic, Unreliable Narrator, John’s Mind Bungalow, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending) – Sherrinford is not really the name of some high security prison. That was just a figment of John’s frantic coma dream. And Eurus is not actually Sherlock’s sister. That’s just something random she said to John before shooting him. Sherlock and John were never actually estranged. That was just their act to cover up what really happened to Mary – or Rosamund Moran, as her real name has turned out to be. Sherlock does have a secret sibling, though, and his name is Sherrinford. After finally eliminating Moran – though in a rather dramatically different way than they had envisioned – and exposing the truth about Eurus, John encourages Sherlock to delve into his past and to find out whether the reasons to keep Sherrinford away from Sherlock were the right ones, and to discover what really happened in 1981. Along the way, Sherlock and John gradually, finally, stop keeping each other at a distance, and eventually become a proper family of their own.

Proving A Point by elldotsee & J_Baillier (E, 186,270 w., 28 Ch. || Me Before You Fusion || Medical Realism, Insecure John, Depression, Romance, Angst, POV John, Sherlock Whump, Serious Illness, Doctor John, Injury Recovery, Assisted Suicide, Sherlock’s Violin, Awkward Sexual Situations, Alcoholism, Drugs, Idiots in Love, Slow Burn, Body Image, Friends to Lovers, Hurt / Comfort, Pain, Big Brother Mycroft, Intimacy, Anxiety, PTSD, Family Issues, Psychological Trauma, John Whump, Case Fics, Loneliness, Pain) – Invalided home from Afghanistan, running out of funds and convinced that his surgical career is over, John Watson accepts a mysterious job offer to provide care and companionship for a disabled person. Little does he know how much hangs in the balance of his performance as he settles into his new life at Musgrave Court.

#steph replies #johnlock fic recs #my fic recs #parents and families #meeting the family #Anonymous

146 notes · View notes

heywardsarchive · 3 years

Text

Home [Harry Potter]

Requests closed! Based on this request by nonnie : id like to request a harry x gryffindor reader. its the yule ball and harry wants to ask y/n. but the other boys are all over her and he barely gets a chance. so basically y/n is cho but she says yes XD

Summary: Harry recalls a time when he wanted to ask y/n to the ball but couldn't gather the courage to ask her out.

Pairing: dad!Harry Potter x female reader

A/n: I think this is my favourite Harry fic I've written! Im a sucker for dad!Harry, basically any Harry. I just love that man.

Warnings: none, just pure fluff

Word count: 1.9k words

Memories are in italics

******

It was bedtime on a snowy January night in the Potter household as Harry Potter tucked his oldest into bed. James, only eight years old, was an energetic young boy. He wasn't ready to sleep yet and he was determined to stay up. The only way he could do so was if his father told him a bedtime story.

"Daddy," he started pulling his dad's sleeve, "tell me a bedtime story."

Harry looked down at his son who was trying to look as innocent as possible. "James, it's time for bed."

"Please daddy!" He gave his best puppy dog expression, his eyes the same as the woman harry loved most, and Harry melted. Both mother and son knew how to use their eyes to their advantage.

"Alright fine, call Albus and Lily and I will tell you a bedtime story."

James excitedly jumped out of bed and brought his siblings into his bedroom.

"Alright kids, what bedtime story do you want to hear?" Harry sat down on the bed beside the three children. "Tell us about the first time you had a date with mummy!" Albus said and lily and James nodded in enthusiasm.

"Alright then. So the first time we went on a date was when we were in our fourth year in Hogwarts. Remember the time I told you about the wizard tournament I was in?..."

The triwizard tournament, a disaster for Harry. He had unwillingly got thrown into a game he wanted no part of. He managed to complete the first task but the hardest part was yet to start. He needed to find a date for the Yule ball. In his opinion fighting a dragon was easier than asking a girl out.

He knew who he wanted to take but he was yet to gather the guts to ask her. He saw her multiple times over the week but everytime there was a distraction. Whether it was her friends pulling her away or a teacher snapping at him to pay attention. Harry was unable to get to her.

Ron too was struggling, unable to find a date. "Mate, you fought a dragon if you can't get a date nobody can." He told him as they walked through the courtyard of Hogwarts. "Right now, I think I'd take the dragon." Harry sighed. Ron patted his back. Harry's eyes drifted toward the crowd of students, his gaze stopping on her. Y/n l/n, she was the nicest girl in Hogwarts and everyone was her friend. She and Harry were acquaintances, they weren't close per se. Harry had been crushing on her since the end of third year when she helped him in potions.

Harry, Ron and Hermione were sitting on a table doing potions work while everyone around them were talking about their dates to the ball. A boy sitting to Harry's right was whispering to his friend. Harry tried not to listen but potions was boring and he heard y/n's name and his ears perked up.

"Have you heard? David Arden asked y/n to the ball. She turned him down , do you think I have a chance?" He asked hopefully. The boy beside him, the friend he was talking to, scoffed. "She turned down David Arden, he's literally every girl's crush. What makes you think you have a chance? Besides she's turned down all the 5 guys who asked her out this week."

Harry returned to his work. 5 guys asked her out and she turned all of them down? What chance do I have now. He thought to himself. "Ron, do you think y/n will go with me to the ball?" He shook his best friend's shoulder. "You're the boy who lived mate, she'd definitely agree."

"She's turned down 5 boys this week ron! What if she turns me down too." Harry sighed. "You will never know if you don't try." Ron shrugged.

Harry made up his mind he was going to ask her out that evening.

"Did you do it daddy? Did you ask her to the ball?" Little Lily asked excitedly. Albus shushed his sister. "Let daddy finish!" Harry chuckled and continued. "As I was saying..."

Harry kept avoiding the fact that he had to ask y/n to the ball. He made excuses to do it later but the more he delayed it the higher the chance of him not getting to go with her higher.

As he returned from the great hall after dinner, he ran into y/n. The person he wanted to speak to. "Im so sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going." She apologized. "Don't worry about it, I wasn't looking either." Harry chuckled awkwardly.

"I'll be going then." She smiled, but hesitated a bit. "Hey Harry-" "y/n-" they started at the same time. They laughed. "You go first." She said.

"Uh sure, I uh wanted to ask you if you uh wanted to um gototheballwithme." He stuttered.

"Im sorry, what did you say?"

"Do you want to go to the ball with me?" He said, slowly this time.

"What did she say?? Did she say yes daddy? Did she??" Albus asked this time. "Ofcourse she said yes dummy, they're married!" James said to his brother.

Y/n bit back a smile. "Yes, I'd love to."

Harry felt a blush creep up his neck. "Uh great, that's amazing. Uh what did you want to ask me?"

"I wanted to ask you if you wanted to go with me but I guess you beat me to it." She smiled shyly. "I'll be going then, see you soon Harry." She kissed his cheek and walked to her common room.

Harry stood glued to the spot with his hand on his cheek a smile on his face. "You good mate?" Rons voice startled him, snapping him out of his trance. "Im brilliant, never better. I asked y/n to the ball and she said yes! Ron she said yes!" "Good job man, I knew you could do it!" Ron pat his best friend's back.

That night Harry fell asleep with a smile on his face.

"How was the ball dad? Did you have fun?" James asked curiously.

"Oh yes, we had the time of our life."

The day of the ball couldn't come faster. Harry's excitement was uncontrollable. He kept practicing his dance steps and talked to himself in the mirror causing Ron to shake his head and pass comments about Harry being 'whipped'. He didn't mind though, he was whipped.

Finally the day was here. Harry stood at the bottom of the staircase and waited for his date to arrive. He looked around the hall, it was decorated with Christmas decor, snow was charmed to fall, there were icicles on the ceiling and everyone was dressed up in beautiful attire.

As Harry was looking around, he felt a tap on his shoulder. "Hello Harry." It was y/n. She looked absolutely stunning in her dress. Harry forgot how to speak.

"Did you actually forgot how to speak daddy?" Giggled Lily. "It's a saying lils." James explained to his sister.

"You look beautiful." He finally got out. "Thankyou haz, you look dashing yourself." She poked his chest playfully. Harry blushed at the nickname.

"Potter! There you are. We are waiting for the champions. You dance first." Professor McGonagall said. "Wh-what?" Harry stuttered.

"Yes! Now go on we don't have all night." She hurried both the teens.

"I really can't dance, I'm going to make a fool of myself." Harry whispered to y/n. "It's alright, just follow my lead." Harry nodded in relief.

As the champions entered the hall, Harry's grip on y/n:s hand tightened. She squeezed back to comfort him. Everyone's eyes were on them and Harry was feeling self conscious. They stood on stage and Harry placed his hands on y/n's waist and she on his shoulders. "It'll be fine." She mouthed. Harry nodded. His hands were getting clammy and his mouth dried.

The music started playing and all the champions started to waltz to the sweet melody. Both if them swayed to the music and Harry spun her around. He was starting to enjoy it. At last the dance floor was open to all. The attention was off Harry and he felt much better.

Y/n pulled Harry's hands to a more open space on the dance floor and started dancing to the upbeat song. "Dance with me!" She laughed. Harry looked at her and smiled. They both danced badly at the songs, having the time of their life.

Soon they left the dance floor to go and have some refreshments. "You know, I thought you'd turn me down." Harry said sheepishly. "Why would you think that?" Y/n asked curiously. "Because I heard you turned down 5 boys in the same week and I thought you'd turn me down too." "I turned down the other boys because I wanted to go with you." She placed a hand on his cheek.

"I really like you y/n. Im glad we came together." Harry whispered, his face moving closer to hers, staring into her eyes. "I really like you too haz. Alot." She closed the gap between them.

It was blissful. Harry didn't feel the butterflies that others say happen on your first kiss, it felt like coming home, it felt right. It was perfect. When they pulled away Harry realised that he had found the one he wanted to be with forever.

"Would you like to be my girlfriend?" Harry asked her. "Definitely." Y/n said kissing him once again.

"Ewww." Gagged all the children when Harry mentioned that they kissed. "Daddy has the cooties." Albus said in disgust. "I think it's cute." James said proudly. Harry laughed and ruffled his hair.

"What's going on here?" Y/n entered the room. "Daddy was telling us about the Yule ball!" Lily exclaimed. "Was he now?" Y/n said smiling at her family. "It truly was a great experience. Maybe when you go to Hogwarts you'll have one too!"

"Alright it's time for bed now. Let's get you tucked in." Harry clapped his hands. James settled himself on the bed and Harry kissed his forehead and shit the door. He tucked Albus while y/n tucked lily.

Shutting the door, Harry pulled his wife toward him. "I love you. You've given me three lovely children and the best life I could ever imagine. You stood by md through everything. I don't deserve you." He kissed her forehead.

"Oh haz, you have gone through so much you deserve everything and more and you make me the happiest woman alive. I love you so much." She kissed his lips.

Just like the day of the yule ball, this kiss felt right. Harry was home and he never wanted to leave.

*****

#harry potter x reader #Harry Potter #harry potter self insert #harry potter x y/n #harry potter x you #dad!harry #fluff

205 notes · View notes

unloved-cadillac · 3 years

Text

Finally. (A Levi x Reader NSFW(af) Oneshot)

Summary: After days of working overtime, you finally came home and someone needs you to take care of him.

C/n: Hey everyone! Sorry I haven’t been active lately. My stupid phone was giving me problems but I got it sorted it out and I’m gonna be posting much more from now. This fic is dedicated to Ace cause she’s an amazing femdom writer and I owed her and you a dom/sub fic.

Warnings: oral(male receiving), praise, degrading, edging, overstimulation, femdom!reader, sub!Levi, slapping, choking, dirty talk.

———————————————————————

Levi couldn’t believe this.

It was the third night you were working overtime and he hated it. Yes, he knew you had to work, but god. This killed him.

Both of you hadn’t had an intimate night in so long and he was craving you. He jerked off, yeah but it wasn’t the same. Calling your name to not hear your permission for him to cum made him sad.

But it was until he heard your car pull up to the driveway did his mood switched.

Is she home early?

He ran downstairs, like a kid on Christmas morning going to open their gift. He stopped when he heard the door open and revealed you. His best gift.

“Y/n?”, he called to you. You looked at him and smiled. You looked exhausted. But taking off your heels and putting your bag on the floor, you opened your arms to welcome him.

“Hi baby. Missed me?” He ran to you and enveloped you in his arms. “Yes I did. I missed you so much.” You hum in response and kiss him. It turned needy so fast, it could make you laugh.

“You missed me huh? I can tell. Were you thinking of me, baby boy?”, you whisper in his ear. That name jumped straight to his cock. He whimpered slightly and buried his face in your shoulder. “Yes. I never stopped.” “What were you thinking about, hm? Me fucking you? My mouth around your cock? My hands? What?”, you ask him, rubbing his crotch. He sighs and grips you tighter. “Everything.”

That’s how Levi ended up on the bed, naked and watching you strip. You took off your coat, then your shirt and pen skirt. Revealing your black lingerie. Yes, you had every intention of having sex with him tonight.

“I’m not going to bring out the strap tonight.” You say, grazing your nails along his bare thighs. It made him shiver. “I want to ride you.” Levi’s eyes widened. Ride him? This really was a treat. You almost never did that. Only on very rare occasions.

“But...it’s not going be easy. I just want to have fun with your body, use you. Then I promise, you will get your reward.”, you say. You leaned down and opened a drawer that was under your bed. It was filled with yours and Levi’s toys. You pull out a blindfold, handcuffs, a riding crop and a vibrator. Although, Levi didn’t know what you did. Or what you had planned. So when you woke up and he saw the cuffs and blindfold..his mind went ‘oh fuck.’

You wrap the blindfold around his eyes and handcuff him to the bed railing. You cupped his face and kissed all around it, except his lips.

He whimpered like a puppy. “Y/n...” SLAP! His head turned to the right when he felt your hand. “Is that my name, slut?”, you questioned him. “M-Mistress..please kiss me. On my lips.” Ah. He learned how to beg. Smiling, you forcefully move his head and smash your lips against his. It was messy and sloppy and when you pulled back, a string of saliver connected you two.

Levi enjoyed it but when he felt your weight off of him he got nervous. What were you planning to do? He soon found out he felt a little leather pad run across his chest. Shit the crop.

“Aww baby. You thought since we didn’t fuck for three days I’ll let you go easy. No, no. You’re still my toy. My little slut. Aren’t you?”, you ask him and he doesn’t answer. Furrowing your eyebrows, you slap his right nipple. That one was always very sensitive. “Answer me.” “Y-Yes. I’m yours. Your slut.” Smiling, you run it down his chest to his cock. It was so hard already it made you chuckle. “Your cock is begging for me, isn’t it? Wants to be buried deep inside me, huh?” You slap his thighs with the crop. Putting away, you pull out the vibrator.

Turning it on, Levi gasps. You put it on his red, swollen tip and his cry out made you smile. “M-Mistress!” He called out to you. You moved the vibrator up and down, hitting every spot.

His legs started to tremble. You scoffed. “You’re close, already? How pathetic.” You up the vibration and Levi cries out. “A-AH MISTRESS. PLEASE! L-Let me CUM!” As soon as he said that, you pulled it away which made him whine. “Mistress..” “Shut up. Whores who get close in 5 minutes don’t deserve to cum so quickly.” Just as he was about to speak again, you put the vibrator on his cock again. His tip was the most sensitive part so you kept it there. Moving it around was torture.

To make it worse, you started pumping him. “Who’s cock is this?” You ask him. “Y-Yours!” Humming, you put the vibrator on the highest setting and pumped him faster. “Pl-Please *hic* let me cum, Mistress!”, you could see his tears streaming down his face and sweat on his chest. “Cum for me.” You say sternly and he explodes. The ropes of cum shot out and landed all over his stomach and chest. It was intense.

As his body shook, recovering from his orgasm, you quickly put lube on your hand and pumped him.

“N-No, wait! I-I’m no-not ready!”, he cries out. But you move faster and to endulge yourself in your pleasure, you put all of him into your mouth. “Mmm ngh ha ha” the noises he made was gibberish. He couldn’t speak. Not recovering from his previous orgasm, his second one built up again.

“Mistress! I’m cl-close!” You didn’t stop. You moved faster and when his cock twitched, you let go of him from your mouth and helped him release his load. Just a few strands came out but the orgasm shook him. The handcuffs shook against the railing and Levi’s fists were clenched. His nails digging into his palms, leaving faint crescents on it.

Levi was breathing heavily. He wanted to see you now. “Please, Mistress.”, he panted out. “I want to see you.” “Too bad.” You grabbed his cock again and he yelled out “No! Mistress! I can’t-can’t cum *ah* again.” You shook your head. “One more baby boy. I know you can. Be a good boy and give me one more.”

The switches between your praise and degradation turned him on more than he hoped. Your hands were gentle, yet firm. Your voice was angelic, yet the words you spoke were nothing but sin.

You pumped him and then started moving your tongue around his tip, licking the little cum that collected there. “Ha! Oh-Oh my god!”, he screams. You put all of him into your mouth in one go and bobbed your head up and down. You didn’t care if he was your sub, Levi was special and he deserved someone who could take care of him.

“Ah! Mistress, please! I-I, c-can’t take anymore.”, he whimpers out. His blindfold is soaked with tears and his mouth was dripping drool. And how you wanted to lick it off of him.

He was close, you could feel it. So you moved faster and faster until he burst. Nothing came out, but the pleasure was 10 times worse and it shook his body. His stomach clenched and you ran your nails down the chiseled abs he worked so hard on for you.

“Baby, you’re a mess. Look at you. Drooling and your cum shot right up to your chest.”, you giggle. Levi didn’t even pay attention to what you were saying. He was still catching his breath from the three mind-blowing orgasms you just put him through. “Mistress...”

He called out to you out of habit. All of a sudden, he felt a warm cloth run across his chest and stomach. You were cleaning him up.

Throwing the cum stained rag somewhere, you slip out of your lingerie and pulled your panties down. You were soaking. As much as you turned Levi on, he never failed to arouse you when he screamed for you.

You sat on his chest and carefully removed his blindfold. You rubbed his eyes so he could adjust to the light and wipped his chin. “You did so good, baby boy. So good for me. Ready for your reward?”, you coo to him. He nods and you smile. “That’s it. I’m going to uncuff you now. Don’t move okay, baby?” You tell him. “Yes, Mistress.” You carefully remove his handcuffs and massage his wrists. You click your tongue. “You ruined your pretty little wrists. Such a dumb whore.”, you say in the sweetest voice.

You move down and pump his cock again. He whines. He was really sensitive at this point. “Want to fill me with your pretty cock, baby? Mm? Want me to bounce on you and use you to make myself cum?”, you look at him. He bites his lips and nods. “Please. Use me, Mistress. I’m yours.” “You’re damn right.” You carefully sink yourself onto his swollen cock and look at his face. So red and sweaty. He moved his hands on the sides, so he could grip the sheets. He knew that if he touched without permission you’d slap him or worse.

“Ah! Mistress. Please let me...”, he starts to say and you move faster. “Let you what, Levi? Use that mouth of yours and tell me what you want.” “I want to touch you. I haven’t in *ngh* so long. Please, please, please.” Aww, how could deny that. You lean forward and grab his hands and put them on your breasts. “Baby, you’re making me feel so good!”, you moan out. Levi smiled. He loved you moaning. He loved his mistress to feel the pleasure that you gave him.

You move your hands down and wrap it around his neck. You gently sqeeze it and start moving fast, feeling your orgasm approaching. “Make me cum, baby boy. Make your Mistress cum!” You rode him faster and he couldn’t scream out for you. The little air he had was knocked out of him. You were close and so was he. He met your thrusts and it pushed you both over the edge. Your orgasm was great. It was long awaited. But his was so much more intense since you breath-played him.

You slouched down onto his chest and let go of his neck, carefully running you hands along the bruise that would form. You both stay in silence until Levi spoke.

“I love you.” He said quietly. You smiled. Leaning up you captured his lips with yours. “I love you too. Come on. Let’s have a bath and I’ll wash your hair for you okay, sweet boy?” He smiles at that. “And you’ll tell me about your day?” He asks. You nod.

“Let’s go.”

———————————————————————

“I wanted to end this on a fluffy note because all doms should take care of their subs after a heated session...”

🖤🤍Thanks for reading🤍🖤

🤍🖤Special tag: @acekou 🖤🤍

-Caddy.

132 notes · View notes

joshuas · 3 years

Text

pick-up lines 101

♫ pairing: Lee Felix x Reader

♫ genre: college/university student!au, slice-of-life, crack (the entire concept), fluff

♫ word count: 10.4k

♫ warnings: Nil of note!

♫ summary: A continuation on from the Chan drabble - an utterly ridiculous fic, where Felix and the reader (who unenthusiastically) go to literal extremes to break the two up, whilst falling for each other along the way.

♫ a/n: The second addition to my Christmas oneshots! Enjoy this high-key chaotic fic! I’m sorry that it’s 10k - I think I got a little carried away (╥﹏╥). This drabble is entirely fictional, please do not take any of Felix’s actions to heart (because he’s a sweetheart and we all know it).

♫ fyi: Reader 1 (Chan’s lover) is often referred to as “Mariah Carey/playlist lover” just to be gender neutral!

♫ skz christmas oneshots: 1|2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8

“Let me get this straight... you want me to help break up Chan and... what’s their name- Mariah Carey lover, just so that Chan can give you pick-up lines again? Even though you’re the reason they started dating?” You leaned back against your chair, raising your eyebrows at the boy in front of you. “Well. Yes. And... Mariah Carey lover? You seriously don’t remember their name?” Your friend, Felix, raised his eyebrows. “All I care is that the person is now identifiable to me. Names are so arbitrary.” You dismissed nonchalantly. “Okay... but will you help me?” Felix turned to you with puppy dog eyes. “You know puppy dog eyes don’t work on me but whatever. I’ll help.” You got up, placing your books in your bag as Felix swiftly helped you clean up. “Oh, Y/N. You have no idea how much this means to me.” He draped his arm around your shoulder, giving it a tight squeeze before releasing as the two of you exited the library. “Oh, I think I do...” You muttered as Felix excitedly explained his long-winded and elaborate plan to ‘save Chanlix’.

“C‘mon Chan hyung. It’ll be fun!” “I don’t know, Felix... wouldn’t Y/N be third-wheeling?” You observed the situation in front of you, casually eating your fairy floss as Felix looked to you for help in his mission to convince Chan to do a ‘how well do you know your partner?’ challenge at the local Christmas fair. “I don’t think Y/N really cares. Come on, hyung. If you’re not doing it for me, do it for the prize!” Felix pleaded with Chan. “The prize being... a book of ‘pick-up lines to keep your relationship fresh and interesting!’?” Chan raised his eyebrows at you.

You shrugged your shoulders, “He’s been your friend longer than mine.” “See! Y/N’s so unbothered. Please, hyung. I’ll do anything.” Felix pleaded. “...Alright. Let’s line up.” Chan reluctantly followed an excited Felix, as you trudged slowly after them.

The line was ridiculously long. Taking you half an hour to get to the front of the line, you were just about done with Felix’s antics. As Felix handed in the answers to the two questionnaires, Chan’s phone buzzed. Quickly typing a reply, his face lightened up as he waved someone over.

“Hey, Felix, I hope you don’t mind but I think I’ll partner with umm... my beloved on this one. And hey, Y/N’s here, so you can get that awesome prize with them!” Chan patted Felix on the back, his partner *cough cough* beloved approached him, pushing him lightly for being so “cringy”. Felix nodded, slightly devastated, forcing a smile as Chan and his partner walked past him, taking a seat with the other contestants. Mulling over his thoughts, Felix paced the floor as you watched more and more couples sign up for the contest. His features lightened, and as if struck by an amazing idea, he pulled you towards the sign up desk, “Do we really have to do this?” You groaned as Felix signed you up, determined. “Even though this wasn’t supposed to happen, I have just been presented with the perfect way to show Chan that I’m better than his significant other.” You looked at him confusedly, “How... are you going to do that, exactly?” “By winning.” He said, tone as if he were stating the obvious, “So, get your game face on, Y/N. We’re going to wipe the floor with them.” “Totally...”

The game was heated. You were utterly confused as to why people were so fiercely competitive to get a book of pick up lines. Don’t these people have anything better to do? “And now we have Bang Chan! Would you please come to the stage with your partner?” The MC’s voice rang out clearly across the stage, snapping you out of your reverie. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Felix lean forward, anxiously tapping his foot. “So, like all the other contestants have done, I’ll ask a couple of questions and we’ll see if your partner’s answers match with yours on the questionnaire. However, you can only win if both of you are able to answer as many questions about each other correctly.” The MC explained for the billionth time as Chan flashed an encouraging smile towards his partner. “Hey, Felix? Haven’t they been friends since childhood? How do you even expect us to have a chance?” You asked, doubtful. “Don’t worry, Y/N. I have a plan.” Felix reassured you, his eyes glued on the couple on stage. Oh, great. “First question! Ooh this is interesting. If Chan wasn’t studying music currently, what would he be doing?” Before anyone could answer, Felix yelled from his seat, “He’d be an actor or an athlete. He’d also be a kangaroo, if he could be... which I don’t really understand since they’re literally a pest species.” “Correct? Regardless of whoever answered, the points go to you guys.” The MC chuckled, slightly confused, as Chan and his partner tentatively high-fived each other. “Next question! What is Chan’s favourite season?” The MC looked pointedly at Mariah Carey playlist lover. As they opened their mouth to speak, Felix sighed loudly, “This is too easy. It’s Autumn, obviously.” You turned to Felix, embarrassed, as heads turned towards where the two of you were seated. “GeT rEaDy, Y/N. We’Re gOinG tO wiPe tHe fLoOr wiTh tHeM.” You mocked, imitating his earlier statement. “You do realise that if you keep answering the questions, they’ll end up winning. If I remember correctly, you wanted to beat them, not help them.” You hissed, annoyed at his impulsiveness. “Plans can be slightly altered. It’ll work out.” Felix shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. You pinched the bridge of your nose, Honestly, this boy only runs off two brain cells. To think of the lengths he’d go to just be told pick up lines from Chan. You’d think that he was fighting to the death for his beloved... “Haha... another point to the couple. Honestly, you guys won’t have to do anything to win at this point.” The MC pointed out awkwardly. “Let’s move onto the next question. This is easy. What is Chan’s favourite hobby?” The MC’s smile faltered as Felix stood up, everyone directing their attention towards him once again, “He loves to play sport!” You sunk low into your seat, pulling the hood of your hoodie over your head as you avoided the heavy gaze of the other contestants and other onlookers. Tugging Felix back to his seat, he slowly sat down as the MC looked at the two of you and Chan and his partner confusedly, “Ha... maybe the two of you should have partnered up.” He pointed to Chan and Felix who was adamantly glaring at the bewildered couple. “Right, so another point to the two of you. Let’s move on...” The game continued, Felix answering every single question as you cringed at his eagerness... until it came to Mariah Carey person’s turn. From then, he sat in stony silence, glaring at the couple as Chan answered every question correctly.

“Onto our next couple! Y/N and... Felix.” You sat down in the seat opposite Felix on the stage, mentally running through everything you know about him. “First question! Remember, it’s important that the both of you answer correctly, in order to win. What is Felix’s favourite colour?” You exhaled in relief, okay. These questions are kind of reasonable, “Black.” “Correct! Ooh, looks like Chan’s going to have to look out!” Your answer streak continued, with you answering the questions almost immediately. They weren’t too ridiculous (which you hadn’t expected, considering Felix). Eventually came Felix’s turn, “Alright, Felix. Let’s hope you know Y/N as well as you do Chan.” The audience chuckled at the MC’s comment as Felix flushed awkwardly (the boy was finally embarrassed istg). “Looks like the two of you were on the same wavelength! What is Y/N’s favourite colour?” An awkward silence filled the stage as Felix looked at you with utter panic. You shook your head in disappointment. Surely. Surely he kno— “Uhh turquoise?” Turquoise???? This boy. Honestly. “Incorrect! What a shame. Let’s move onto the next question.” As the game went on, awkward silences patterned with the MC’s new favourite response of ‘incorrect!’

“It’s a real shame that you and Chan weren’t partnered together.” The MC patted Felix’s back sympathetically as you headed back to the contestants whilst Chan and his partner collected their prize, Chan cracking the cheesiest of pickup lines on his very much embarrassed significant other, “You know, my shirt’s so soft. Do you know what material it’s made of? Boyfriend material.” “Oh my god, Chan, stoppp.” As the crowd dissipated, you stood, beckoning Felix to walk with you, “I thought you wanted to win.” You said dryly, as Felix turned to you, defensive, “How am I supposed to know the intimate and in-depth details of your life?” “Favourite colours are hardly intimate, and generally friends are supposed to listen to each other, and talk to each other about their interests?” You raised your eyebrows. He sighed in defeat, “You’re right. I’m sorry. How about we grab a hot chocolate and you can tell me all the answers to those questions.” He held out his hand to you. You looked at it questioningly, slowly taking it, interlocking your fingers with his, ignoring the fluttering of your heart, “I know you’re only doing this so that I can help you but I’m far too hungry to care about your motives.” “Of course not. It’s just also the perfect time to talk about our next course of action. Amongst talking about you, obviously.” “Sure...”

Impatiently tapping your foot as you waited in line to ‘confront Chan’, you turned to glare at Felix who was seated in his car just outside the cafe. Taking out your phone, you texted him, [10:38] Remind me again of what I have to do and why I’m doing this? [10:40] (Felix) You really don’t remember?? [10:40] to be fair, it’s an elaborate plan... [10:41] (Felix) fine. Basically you have to approach Chan hyung and give him a pick up line. Then I’ll walk in, and he’ll use it on me, and all order in the world will be restored. As to why you’re doing this... you’re doing it because you looooooooove me 😌 [10:42] More like haaaaaate but whatever. wouldn’t it seem like I was hitting on him?? [10:43] (Felix) 😭 😭 you wound me with your words, y/n. We all know that I’m your favourite person and you’d do anything for me. It should be fine. [10:44] I could leave this cafe and never talk to you again [10:45] (Felix) No!! Y/N pleaseeeee do this for me. I’ll ✨ love ✨ you forever ️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ Ignoring the skip of your heart at his text, you rolled your eyes, Get a grip, Y/N. This guy clearly only has eyes for a certain pick-up lines guy. [10:46] nobody wants that. I’ll do it because I’m a good person. Please revoke your hearts. [10:47] (Felix) Neverrrrr ️️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ [10:47] (Felix) oh! You’re up in line!! Go! You got this!! Steeling yourself, you smiled as you approached the counter Chan was working at, “Hey, Y/N! How are you?” Chan greeted you cheerfully, dimples on full display. Ahh too bright. My eyes— his smile’s too charming. I kind of understand why the whole playlist thing went well. “Heyyy Chan! I’m good. How do you brew?” You laughed awkwardly, internally cringing. “Oh, I’m brewing good too. Can I get you anything?” He grinned at your pun. “Uh— just a latte for me, thanks.” You panicked, stating the first thing you saw on the menu. “One latte coming right up. So, how’s Felix? I haven’t seen him since the festival. I know he really wanted that pick up line book.” He looked at you, his eyes slightly guilty as he started the espresso machine. You could say that... “Yeah, he’s been taking it... pretty hard. How have you been finding the book?” You asked. “The book’s pretty cool, actually. I’ve come across some pretty great pick up lines. Oh! There’s this one where—“ You cut him off as he poured in two teaspoons of sugar, regurgitating the pick up line Felix had forced you to practice repeatedly in the car beforehand. “I have a better one- hold the sugar, please. You’re sweet enough for me.” Ughhhhhh. Ugh. That was— ugh. I should start apologising. Chan’s eyes widened, his expression similar to a deer caught in headlights, “I— Wow! You’re just full of creativity, Y/N. Look at you, two pick up lines in one morning. I’m going to have to use them on my partner, now.” He laughed awkwardly. “No!” You interjected. “No?” You took a deep breath, “You can only use them on your best friend.” “Is this like one of those ‘repost this chain or you’ll die in 13 days or something like that’ things but in real life?” Chan questioned, confused. You turned around, not-so-subtly beckoning Felix to come into the cafe. “Haha... what??? Oh and just to be clear, I wasn’t hitting on you, so can you please continue putting in the sugar?” “I know. It’s pretty obvious that you have feelings for— Oh hey Felix! I— oof!” He stumbled backwards from the impact of someone— oh it’s his playlist lover, wrapping him into a hug. “Hey. What’s up?” He released them, looking at them concerned. “Nothing. I just missed you today.” “Oh that reminds me. Y/N told me these epic pick up lines. I have to use them on you...” I mean. They are best friends... You looked apologetically at Felix who stood, his jaw clenched, passively fuming as he observed the couple from the door, “Felix, I’m really sorry that your plan failed again.” You patted his back sympathetically. “It’s fine... we just have to come up with something more attention grabbing!” He nodded resolutely, leading you out of the cafe. “Wait— I left my coffee!” “There’s no time to lose, Y/N. I’ve already come up with our next plan.” Oh no.

The next phase of the plan was... extravagant to say the least. Felix hadn’t told you much but seeing the long to-do list he had written out... it was a bit much. Approaching the art department, you knocked on the door of the workshop whilst Felix strode confidently past you. Upon hearing the knock and Felix’s footsteps, a brown-haired boy looked up from what looked like it was supposed to be a sculpture but was really just a blob of clay, “Minho hyung... my man! My bro! What’s up?” Felix clapped the boy’s shoulder. You shook your head in disgust, Why is he so cringy? The boy - Minho, narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest, “What do you want, Felix?” “Why do people always assume that I want anything? What if I just wanted to hang out with my dearest friends without any motives except for showing my appreciation for you guys being in my life?” Felix raised his hands in surrender defensively. “Hell would have to freeze over for that to happen.” You hummed, Minho snorting at your comment as Felix clutched his chest in mock offence. “Well, as you can see, no one buys your sentiment, so tell me what you want.” Minho sighed. “You both wound me with your verbal warfare, but... I actually need a favour.” Felix stated tentatively. “A favour?” Minho raised an eyebrow. “I need you to make me a life sized present.” He said seriously. Do you ever look at someone and wonder what on earth is going on in their head? Yeah, there’s no point on doing that for Felix. Nothing can explain what goes on in there. “I need to what? Why?” Minho looked at Felix, incredulous. “That’s on a need-to-know basis and you don’t need to know. Look, all I need you to do is find a human-sized box and decorate it with wrapping paper and whatnot. Just make it look like a present.” Felix explained, slightly impatient. “...why me?” Minho asked, reluctant. “You’re an art major, right? This’ll be in your ballpark. I give you full creative liberty. Just make it look as pretty and realistic as possible.” Felix clapped Minho’s back, waving as he exited the workshop. You gave Minho an apologetic glance before chasing after Felix. “...but I’m an accounting major.” Minho sighed, defeated.

“Y/N, Minho hyung just dropped off the present! Come look at it!” Felix called from the foyer. The two of you were currently “house sitting” Chan’s apartment. Technically Chan didn’t ask you guys to, since he was only going away for a day. However, Felix insisted on it, using the excuse of ‘watering Chan’s plants’ to execute his plan. Chan doesn’t have any plants. Ignoring Felix’s poor attempt at a cover, Chan let Felix do whatever but gave clear instructions to not break or burn anything. Wandering over to Felix, you gaped at the... present in front of you. On the floor, in front of you, was literally just a human-sized cardboard box (that was falling apart, the clear sticky tape holding the corners together by a thread) with random Christmas wrapping adorning the sides of it, alongside a lid (with breathing holes) and a bow on top. Minho must be a modern art student or something, because this is... interesting to say the very least (no offence to modern art students/artists - love y’all). “It’s so beautiful!” Felix fussed over it, his eyes sparkling with excitement and awe. Of course Felix would like it. I guess art truly is in the eye of the beholder. “So, are you going to tell me what you’re going to do with that?” You crossed your arms over your chest staring pointedly at the box. “I’m going to hide in this present until Chan hyung comes back from his hometown tomorrow morning at nine on the dot. Chan hyung will see this mysterious package in the living room and his curiosity will force him to open it, revealing me! I’ll give him a pick-up line, he’ll laugh and we’ll both live happily ever after.” “Not to rain on your Disney princess movie parade but I don’t think you’ve thought any of the logistics through. How are you—“ “Y/N, stop. Let a professional work their work. Don’t worry, I’ve figured everything out.” He waved his hand dismissively, picking up the box and beckoning you to grab the other side. “Don’t come crawling back to me when you need help. Or food.” You warned.

“Just sit still! Stop moving! Otherwise I’ll duct tape your hands together.” You waved the duct tape roll threateningly as Felix fidgeted in the box. On the way to the living room, the box had decided to collapse in on itself as you had expected. Felix, being Felix, was distraught, causing you to be here now fixing the box up with duct tape as Felix sniffed sadly at its unfortunate demise. “I’m sorry, Y/N! Please don’t! How would I be able to eat?” He surrendered, eyes wide. “That’s for you to figure out and for me not to care about. Lucky for you, I’m not that cruel.” You stuck the last piece of tape on the box, dusting your knees as you stood, helping Felix move closer to the Christmas tree in the corner of the room. “Okay, so this is where I leave you.” “You’re leaving already??” Felix pouted, your heartbeat quickening, He really wants to hang out with me? No... He’s probably just worried he’ll be bored. “It wasn’t really at the top of my Christmas wish list to spend Christmas Eve with a man stuck in a life sized present waiting for his friend to come home so that he can give him a pick-up line. I also wouldn’t dare ruin your future moment with Chan. You have your phone, right? Call me if you need me.” You sighed, grabbing your keys as you stuck the lid on Felix, he let out a muffled “bye” as you left the apartment.

“Y/N? Can you pick me up? I’m scared.”

“Y/NNNN I’m bored. Come over.” “Tell me what you think of this pick-up line...” Swiftly deleting the 40 voicemails Felix had left you overnight, you rolled your eyes, a small (but uncontrollable) smile forming on your face at his dramatics. Okay, you were kind of fond of Felix’s theatrics. Not that it matters, though. You sighed, rolling out of bed. It was a bit tiring - having to foster feelings towards someone that doesn’t feel the same way. Just be a good friend, Y/N. That’s all that matters right now. Your phone buzzed, the caller ID showing Felix. You sighed, picking up the phone, “He—“ “Y/N? You need to come. Like now.” Felix whispered hurriedly. “Why?” You raised your eyebrows at his urgency. “Why? Chan hyung was two hours late. He came back at 11 instead of nine. And guess who he came home with?” “Playlist lover.” You answered instantly, getting ready to pick him up. “Exactly. And y’know what they’ve been doing for the past hour and a bit? Making gingerbread and being a ridiculous, annoyingly cute couple. So now I’m hungry and... I really need to go to the bathroom.” He whined. “Can I just say that you really did not figure out the logistics in this plan.” You pointed out. “Logistics don’t matter when it comes to friendship!” He whispered dramatically. “Whatever. Look, I have a plan. You just need to trust me on this one.” You said, pulling a ‘disguise’ out of your closet. “Somehow that doesn’t give me comfort because normally I’m the one who makes the plans in this relationship.” “And look at how that turned out for you. I’ll see you in a bit!” You hung up on him, grabbing your car keys and heading out.

Dressed in the daggiest of outfits (lots and lots of flannel and a low cap), you knocked on the door to Chan’s apartment, revealing a floury Bang Chan and his even more floury significant other, “Y/N, is that you?” “Huh—“ you cleared your throat, deepening your voice, “uh, no. I’m their cousin. Hence, the resemblance.” “Okay... how can I help you, then?” He asked, his tone uncertain. “Oh. Well. I was hoping that I could inspect the place. I’m... your new landlord!” You exclaimed, recalling the notice you had seen around the complex. “Oh? Of course! The notices did say that you were coming for inspections.” He ushered you in, showing you through to the living room. Your eyes landed on the ‘present’ in the corner of the room. I need to get them out of here somehow. “Oh! I think I can smell something burning. You might want to check that out. Could you also point me towards the bathroom?” You asked innocently. “Ah! Of course. It’s the first room to the right in the hallway.” He gestured towards the hall as he and his partner ran to the kitchen. Rushing over to Felix, you grunted, dragging the box as quickly as you can into a room that resembled a studio. Grabbing out a pocket knife, you tore through the duct tape, lifting the lid as Felix scrambled out of the box and to the bathroom, shooting you a relieved smile. This boy. Honestly, why does he do this to himself? Hearing footsteps approaching, you panicked, hopping into the box, closing the lid on you. “Why are you in the box?” Felix approached, drying his hands hurriedly. “I thought you were Chan...” You awkwardly stepped out. “It doesn’t matter anymore! Let’s go!” He whispered hurriedly, heading towards the door as you pulled him back. “Well... you can’t come out the front with me...” you scanned the room, your eyes locking on the window in front of you. Felix followed your gaze, terror filling his eyes, “Y/N! I can’t do that! It’s so high!” He clung to you as you pushed him towards the window. “We’re literally on the ground floor. The height difference between this window and the ground is probably at half your height at most.” You flicked his hands off you, as he slowly sat on the ledge of the window as you opened the window, the cold air greeting you. “No! Y/N, I can’t do it. It’s too—“ His protesting cut off as you lightly pushed him, causing him to stumble off the ledge, tripping and falling to the ground as he landed on the thick snow outside the complex. Instantly, he lay down, yelling incoherent dramatics. Holding back your laughter, you chucked the present box next to him and shut the window, “Merry Christmas!” You re-emerged from the hallway. Somehow Chan and his Mariah Carey playlist lover were looking worse — icing adorned and everything. Oh my gosh. They’re that cliche fanfic couple that make a huge mess when cooking together. How disgusting. “Thank you for allowing me to use your bathroom. I’ll be heading out now.” “Really? What about the inspection?” Chan questioned, eyes wide. “Oh everything’s fine. Okay, bye!” You started towards the front door as Chan blocked your exit. “Wait! We just wanted to give you these gingerbread cookies. You basically saved them and we felt bad that you had to work on Christmas.” He handed the cookies to you, his tone pitiful. “Oh. Well if you insist, who am I to refuse?” You waved at them as you left the complex just as someone dressed in basically the same outfit as you approached their door, “Excuse me! Mr Bang Chan? I’m your new landlord. I came for an inspection?” They yelled, as your eyes widened in horror, bolting as fast as you could out of the complex. “I like your outfit, by the way!” They yelled after you. You caught up to Felix as he waited outside your car. “Now do you have faith in my plans?” You crossed your arms over your chest, still slightly out of breath. You thought back to the narrow escape you had with the actual landlord, Gosh, literally the first time someone compliments me for my fashion sense, it’s when I’m trying to dress up like them unintentionally. “If I say yes, will you give me a cookie?” “Absolutely not.”

“Oh, hey Y/N and Felix. Thanks for taking care of my house whilst we were away. I’m glad to see that nothing broke or burnt.” Chan brought Felix into a bro hug thing as you handed his partner a basket of gingerbread cookies, entering the Christmas-themed household. “It’s not like you weren’t about to burn the house down by yourselves.” You muttered. “Hm?” Chan looked at you expectantly. “Oh! I said... I didn’t burn the gingerbread.” You pointed at the basket of gingerbread. “You know! That’s so funny. We nearly burnt down the house a couple of days ago with our Christmas cookies.” Chan and his partner laughed nervously. “We know.” Felix blurted out. You elbowed Felix, panicked. “I see you still have your decorations up.” You said quickly changing the topic, taking in the mistletoe hanging from the ceiling and the tinsel adorned shelves. “Yeah, well we wanted to have a Christmas party but both of us went home on Christmas and it’s not illegal to have Christmas decorations up two days after Christmas.” Chan explained, handing you both mugs of eggnog. “Actually, it is. But I’ll put up with your offence.” You smirked, sipping at your eggnog. “Thank you for your everlasting generosity, Y/N. Now, you two should go and enjoy the party.” Chan clapped your backs, pushing you and Felix into the party scene. “So... what’s the plan?” You turned to Felix who was observing the couple. “Honestly, Y/N, this is my last shot.” He sighed, exhausted. “Okay... and what are you going to do?” You looked at him, concerned at his sudden dampen in mood. “I’m going to give him a pick up line.” He said triumphantly. “Um. Haven’t you been trying to do that the entire time?” You questioned, confused. “And this is the last time I’m trying that. I’m going to give him one so that he’ll be left with no choice but to fall on his knees, weeping huge tears of regret as he struggles to give me one that matches it’s sheer brilliance.” He explained (dramatically). “Sure. Come find me when you’ve had the happily ever after we’ve all been waiting for.” You shot him a quick smile before moving off to talk to playlist lover.

Soft jazz versions of classic Christmas songs played as people departed from the party.

Walking over to the hallway, you stopped, looking at a dejected Felix leaning against the wall.

“How did it go?” You said, tentatively approaching him.

“What can I say? He’s in love.” He sighed defeatedly.

“Let me guess, he used it on playlist lover?” You asked bluntly.

He nodded dejectedly.

You sighed, steeling yourself, glancing up at the mistletoe between the two of you,

It’s now or never, Y/N.

“I must be a snowflake. Because I’ve fallen for you.”

A shocked silence fell over the two of you as you stumbled to recover your dignity.

“I—“

“Say that again.”

“Huh?”

“The pick up line. Say it again.”

“...I must be a snowflake. Because I’ve fallen for you.” You muttered.

“That... do you mean that?”

“Well. Yes. In a sense because I’m not a snowflake. That’s just weird. Why did I say that? I also don’t think anyone that only liked you as a friend would go to such lengths to help salvage a friendship you don’t really need to salvage. Look, obviously the dynamic between you and Chan has changed since he got a girlfriend. But hey, if you feel the same way, I could be the Chan to your Felix. In a romantic manner, obviously... perhaps as your partner?” You looked nervously at the ground.

“You really like me? After everything I put you through?” He asked, incredulous.

“Although it was extremely ridiculous, it was entertaining... and we got to spend time together.” You quietened your voice for the last part.

“Well, we must both be snowflakes because I’ve fallen for you too.” He lifted your chin, eyes interlocked with yours.

“That was really cheesy.” You murmured.

“Hey, you’re the one that used it on me first.” Felix defended.

“Mmk. Well. For this to work you need to—“ He interrupted you, capturing your lips with his briefly.

“Did that make up for it?” He stepped back, breathless.

“Th-that was cheesy too.” You stuttered, shocked.

“Well, our relationship hasn’t exactly been cliche until now.”

“Ah yes, kissing under the mistletoe. It’s almost like the ending of a Christmas classic movie.” You sighed.

“Almost?” Felix raised an eyebrow.

“Minus the pick up lines.”

“Yeah, well you’re roped into this now. You’ve given me the expectation that you’ll give me a pick up line every time you see me.” He smirked.

“No. I refuse.” You grabbed your bag, waving at Chan and his partner as you exited his apartment, Felix on your heels.

“Three a day?”

“One.”

➳ part three? | masterlist!

130 notes · View notes

rocketink · 3 years

Text

SUMMER SNOW

In which you confess to your summer crush on a hot july night that you’ve never seen the snow.

pairing: mingyu x reader

Words: 1.5+K

Genre: fluffy + friends to lovers

Warnings: none I think. English is not my first language so apologies!! I needed to cuddle and this was the result get me a boyfriend so I can stop writing about my fantasies, please

A/N: Uploading this bc I can’t stand this blog being inactive and I’m planning more things so I need to let this fic go already haha

Whenever people fought over "what is better? Summer vs. Winter edition" you always said summer. Summer to you was special because it meant much more than hot weather for 3 months, beaches, and pools. To you, it meant a getaway. Summer was when you left the polluted air from the gray town you usually live in to go to your grandmother's town, lost somewhere in South Korea but also next to the coast. It meant three months of partying with friends you only see in summer, with those cousins that live far away that visit your grandmother too, and also Mingyu.

Kim Mingyu was always there. Despite looking like he could buy the entire town and spend his holidays at a luxury hotel in New York at the same time. Mingyu is just as poor as the rest of us, mortals, but the way he carefully chooses his clothes, the way he keeps his hair swept back, and, of course, his breathtaking smile makes him look like a young millionaire. He laughs every time you tell him that. Mingyu has been your summer friend ever since you were kids. When summer finally arrives you know it's time to spend all three months with the person you cherish the most and do all sorts of things together, and of course your favorite plan:

"Shall we go stargazing?" He usually asks, two blankets under his right arm and one basket in his left hand.

"Oh, yes, please." You always say.

Stargazing is supposed to be a soft, entertaining activity to do with your friends, right? But how can you do anything soft and cute with Mingyu without risking selling your heart to the most perfect person you've ever met? You don't know the answer to that because your heart has belonged to Mingyu for a while now. It began as a small crush, something you were sure would fade when you go back to your hometown. When you were about to get rid of your feelings, summer came again, and his presence woke up the butterflies within you. At some point, you stopped pretending you had no feeling for the silly boy just because you weren't seeing him during the year.

However, last year’s third day of September made a difference between you two.

It happened while stargazing.

"Don't you think stargazing is not as fun as when we were kids?" He asked.

"It is a bit different now, I guess. Two twenty-two years old do different things. I still enjoy spending time like this with you though." You answered truthfully, and almost fainted at the last part.

Just why did you say that?

"I enjoy it too. You are the only reason why I spend summers here."

"Are you saying that you like me more than Seoul?" You joked.

"Could be, or maybe is because Seoul is beautiful in winter but unbearable in summer, so I just settle for you." You made a face and he laughed. "It's because of the snow, Seoul looks like a romance film in winter."

"It snows there?" You felt your eyes sparkling. "Woah I've never seen the snow in real life."

"Really? Well it's fun at first, but don't get so excited you get used to it after a while and it's not as amazing."

"I just want to make a snowball and throw it to your face, I'll be satisfied just with that." He pretended to be offended and tried to tickle you in revenge, but somehow he ended on top of you and his face approached yours dangerously. You thought you were going to faint.

"Then let's make a deal."

"Surprise me."

"You give me something I really want this summer and next summer I'll bring a jar with some snow on the inside, okay?"

"What type of deal is that?" You would have laughed at his face if he had stopped approaching, but your faces were just a few centimeters apart. "Mingyu, it will melt."

"We can try."

"I'm getting nothing out of this deal, I won't have snow next year."

"How many excuses should I make up just to kiss you?"

"None Mingyu, just go for it" And just like that, his lips covered yours and you melted in a soft kiss.

That was the best night you'd had for a very long time, but you barely enjoyed it because the next day Mingyu was gone and the last thing you knew about him was a message he left to your grandmother: to tell you he suddenly had to leave to Seoul because of some family issues.

22 years of knowing the boy and still you never got his phone number.

The only thing you know is that September is not September without Mingyu.

"Are you still thinking of the summer guy?" Your mother asked you in December. You simply nodded. She didn't know Mingyu but she did know what your grandmother tells her about him, and the last thing your grandmother knew about Mingyu is that deep inside he didn't want to leave so suddenly and without warning you himself. He looked regretful and heartbroken.

This time, it was harder to forget about Mingyu, but you are not sure if you tried enough. You actually thought about him more. You aren't sure if he regrets the kiss or if he wants you or even if he just did it for the thrill of the moment (even if Mingyu is not like this, he wouldn't cross that line, risking to lose a friend). You just want to talk and end your suffering. But when June came once again, you are not sure if you are ready.

You see each other again on the first night of July, later than expected. At this point, you thought that Mingyu wasn't going to spend his summer in town and you kept a sad face for an entire month. He took you by surprise, you were stargazing on your own at your usual spot on top of your grandmother's house.

"Hi y/n." You almost choke on your spit.

"Mingyu?"

"Before you say anything, I've brought you a little something, and you have to see it right now."

"Uhm, okay?" He wastes no time and opens his basket. He pulls a small jar filled to the top with something white.

He gives it to you, and the first thing you notice is that it is icy.

"Open it." He encourages you.

It feels weird, and it melts right when you touch it.

"You've brought me snow?" You can barely find your voice.

"Well, I tried. Do you know how hard it was to keep it as snow and not water or ice? My parents were so worried that his son had lost his mind. Now, make that snowball and throw it to my face." He sounds more amused than he should.

You try, but every second that passes it becomes more watery and you are not sure if you can even grab it. You throw what you manage to keep in your hand to him, and he laughs and hisses at the sudden cold contact.

"It's very nice for the summer to be honest." He laughs.

"Our deal is done now, is it?" You don't even know why you bring it back, memories from that night come to your mind and you wonder even if it was real.

"I'm sorry I left so suddenly."

"Oh no, that's fine, is everyone okay?" You ask, concerned.

"Yes, everyone is fine now. Our house wasn't, we almost got robbed that day, but everything is fine now" You sigh in relief and he smiles softly.

Kim Mingyu if you don't stop right now... You think to yourself.

"I actually was wondering something."

"Okay then, surprise me once again." You want to stop making references to that night but you just can't.

He seems to catch the reference and smiles widely. He grabs a little piece of paper from his front right pocket and gives it to you, still with his signature puppy smile on his face.

It says 'Mingyu's mobile phone, for future inconveniences’

"I realized this winter that I don't want to spend another nine months without hearing from you. It was thrilling at first but it's not anymore. Call me anytime you want, actually just call me, please." His cheeks are tinted with a light shade of red and you feel yours burning.

"And I was also wondering if you'd like to visit me for Christmas in Seoul? You can stay at my house if you want to and we could spend more time together. Summer is not enough for me." Your heartbeat accelerates and you feel yourself nodding without thinking. "Great! I have so many things I'd like to show you. I want to take a walk with you in Seoul if it snows, and we can make snowmen and you can properly throw me snowballs if you feel like it. We can skate on thin ice and get hot chocolate and eat sweets and..."

He stops suddenly and you can tell he feels embarrassed.

"I guess I just want to do all the romantic things couples do at Christmas movies... I guess I just want to properly date you."

This time you are the one to initiate the kiss and all your worries of not being on the same page with Mingyu that you've had for almost ten months dissipate as he deepens the kiss and holds you tighter.

#seventeen #seventeen x reader #mingyu x reader #mingyu #mingyu imagines #seventeen imagines #mingyu fluff #seventeen fluff #mingyu au #seventeen au #mingyu scenarios #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fanfic #seventeen oneshot #mingyu oneshot #seventeen drabble #mingyu drabble

110 notes · View notes

slashscowboyboots · 3 years

Text

The Blackboard Jungle: All I Want For Christmas Is You (Part 4)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Izzy tweeted! And in celebration, here’s the final part of this fic

Tag list @izzysdenimjacket @no-stone-no-bone @sexcoffeeandrockandroll @awrestlinggirlwholoves80sbands @smokeandmirrorz @sodalitefully @roger-taylors-car @harley-m-rose @whisperess33 @shawolat @80snikki @rumoured-whispers

Warnings: the f-bomb, total holiday fluff

You wound your way through the department store, dodging people and wanting to puke from all the Christmas music as you searched for your mother a nice gift. She was the last one you had to buy for, and you wanted to get her just the perfect thing this year.

I think she has plenty of snow globes, you thought, absentmindedly turning one upside down and watching the glitter float down, then heard someone call your name.

You turned and looked into the grinning face of Miss Peterson, Patti’s third-grade teaching cohort.

“Hiiiii, doll,” she chirped.

“Hello, Cindy, how are you?”

“Oh, I’m just great. Are you shopping for your boyfriend?”

“My boyfriend? I don’t-”

“Patti told me all about it. I mean, well she made a long post on Instagram, how the two of you had been friends for so long, good friends, at least she was to you, and you chose that Jeff Isbell over the happiest day of her life-”

“Did she really?” you snapped. “Well, since the two of you are so close, please tell her I said, ‘Merry Christmas.’” And go fuck yourselves, you thought, deciding your mother would enjoy a very nice pair of diamond earrings.

It was unbelievable to you, how you and Jeff were the names on everyone’s lips anymore, especially since it was all so mistaken. It was heartbreaking how everyone thought you were a couple, when you were simply coworkers who were also close friends.

Of course, you were never able to get him out of your head, especially since the Thanksgiving program. Your combined classes had first traced their hands and colored their drawings in, decorating their turkey pictures with feathers and googly eyes (you stifled a laugh watching the Harrison twins hungrily eyeing the paste, and snorted when you saw Jeff leaping over a chair with his gangly legs to glue their turkey eyes down himself) and enjoying their lunches together.

He had excused himself during the break, and you paused while eating your sandwich, thinking about how really good he was as a teacher, how he never once talked down to the kids or lost his patience with them. He always had time to listen to them, hanging onto their every word.

And they loved him in return, every single one of them showing them their turkeys the second they finished them, and the amount of praise he heaped on their artwork made you smile.

Putting away your lunch bag with a sigh, you looked up just in time to see a six foot tall turkey, complete with wattles, standing in the doorway of your classroom. His tail feathers were so impressive he had to turn sideways just to make it through the doorway.

The children erupted in cheers, and Mr. Isbell strode in and fanned his plumage to their great delight, then announced that if they all quieted down, he would read to them, “Bear Gives Thanks.” After he closed the book, he asked them what they all were thankful for.

He got various answers, from “my new puppy” to “my dad got a new job.” But the one that stood out the most was from Cicely Brown. She raised her hand and said in a quiet voice, “Mr. Isbell, I’m thankful for a teacher like you.”

Tears pooled in his eyes, and you heard a catch in his voice when he whispered, “Thank you.” He turned around (well, awkwardly walked in a circle to turn around) to you and asked, “Miss Y/L/N, what are you thankful for?”

“Hmmm. I’m thankful for friends. And I’m thankful for every person that’s in this room.”

His eyes met yours, his smoldering gaze still able to buckle your knees. “Me too.”

“But I don’t want to be an elf.”

“Oh, c’mon, Y/N, I went and got an elf costume just for you. Where’s your Christmas spirit?”

You put your hands on your hips and pouted. “I have plenty of Christmas spirit. Why can’t I be Mrs. Claus?”

“Because she doesn’t hand out candy canes. She stays home and entertains strange men while Santa works all night.”

“Oh, she does not!” You smacked Jeff’s arm, shaking your head. He really was going to talk you into this getup, wasn’t he?”

You took it from him and he said, “Hurry up and get changed. I need you to help me put on the Santa suit.”

“Why do you need help?” you called from the coatroom, pulling your green and red striped tights on.

“Because I make a skinny Santa, and I have to hold the belly while you button the jacket.”

When you came out, he had already changed into his Santa pants and boots and was sitting at your desk expectantly holding a pillow over his chest and stomach.

“Jeff, you really should eat more if you want to wear this suit,” you laughed, buttoning the buttons over his padded belly.

He made a face, and you said, “What?”

“Nobody calls me Jeff except for my mom.”

“What do they call you?” you asked, puzzled.

“Izzy. Or Iz, if you’re into the whole brevity thing.” He buckled his belt as all the wind left you, then he slapped your elf hat onto your head. Flicking the bell to make it jingle, he said, “C’mon, Sugar Cookie, let’s make a bunch of little people happy.”

It was entirely possible that you wished all the students a Joyous Holiday and handed them a candy cane after they visited with Santa. You had no idea if you actually did, the earth had screamed to a halt after you’d heard Jef-uh, Izzy’s admission.

After all the pupils had left, he shot you a delighted grin, then furrowed his eyebrows at you. “Hey, are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” you said softly. “I’m….hot.”

“Me too. Let’s get changed and go back to the party.”

Although you were dazed, you flung your elf costume off in record time, exiting the coatroom in time to see Izzy unbutton his Santa jacket and toss aside his pillow. He slumped in your chair clad in a white undershirt, slinging an arm against his forehead to wipe off the sweat, and when he dropped it down beside him you could see a tattoo just below his elbow.

Without thinking, you walked over to him and picked up his wrist. Written in delicate script high on his inner forearm was desperadosdreams.

He tried to pull away from you, then he noticed you gasping for air with tears in your eyes. “Does that make sense to you?” he asked quietly.

You nodded, then pressed your lips to his, leaning down and throwing your arms around his neck. When you pulled away for a breath, you looked into his eyes, then pushed the sleeve of your shirt up and extended your arm.

“Does that say IZ?” he asked in a halting voice, and you nodded again, then climbed onto his lap for another passionate kiss. You carded your fingers through his hair as his lips traveled down the front of your throat, then he rubbed his nose against yours as you heard PJ Jones say, “I saw Miss Teacher kissing Santa Claus. And he liked it!”

“Hi, Ian!” you smiled, holding up your ring finger.

“Hi!” he grinned. “Ooh, that’s nice! Congratulations!”

You held your phone toward Izzy. “Ian, this is Izzy.”

“Oh, shit, he’s cute,” Sia said. “Hi, Sexy!”

“Izzy, this is Sia. She’s Ian’s fiancee.”

“Well……” she said, then they both held up their ring fingers.

“Omigosh! You guys got married?!” you exclaimed.

“Yes! I had to promote ‘Sharknado’ at the MGM Grand, and well, since we were in Vegas, we-”

Sia interrupted, “We found this Elvis impersonator, and it was so tacky and cool, I couldn’t have asked for a better wedding.”

“Congratulations! Can you guys come to ours?”

“When is it?” Ian asked, with Sia hollering “Hell yeah!” in the background.

“Next spring. We don’t want to wait that long.” You leaned over and pecked Izzy on the lips. “We’ve waited our whole lives to find each other, we want our married life to begin as soon as possible.”

Thank you so much for being a part of this fic! Because of wedding plans and moving and all that good jazz, I won’t be writing fics online anymore, but I will never forget how wonderful it was to have all your support. Love you always, desperadosdreams

“I do,” you said.

“You bet I do,” Blaze said, sliding your beautiful wedding band on your finger.

“Then by the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. Blaze, kiss your bride,”

He swept you in his strong arms, spinning you around, then dipped you and kissed you hard, the first kiss of the rest of your lives, as the fiery red sun sank in the horizon behind the two of you.

Now it was time for the two of you to begin your lives together, and dream as one. And as he kissed you again, you knew you’d found forever, and he had been worth waiting for.

#izzy stradlin x reader #izzy stradlin fanfiction #guns n roses x reader #guns n roses fanfic

36 notes · View notes

letmetellyouaboutmyfeels · 4 years

Note

hi! I'm loving all of your 911 fanfics. they're the perfect amount of smut lol! I was wondering if you wanted to write a first time bottom!eddie fic??

I don’t think this is going how you think it’s gonna go, nonny, but I hope you like it anyway. XD

There were few things Eddie liked better than pressing his boyfriend against a wall and making out with him.

It was something he couldn’t do too often, seeing as Buck was loud and Christopher was a kid who didn’t know about sex yet but sure as hell wasn’t deaf. Right now, though, Christopher was still at school, they didn’t have to pick him up for an hour, and for once they had a goddamn day off.

“Jesus,” Buck mumbled, biting at Eddie’s lip like it had personally offended him (it probably had at some point, being attached to Eddie’s mouth and all). “Want you to fuck me.”

Eddie worked his hands up underneath Buck’s shirt, scratching lightly and delighting in the full-body shiver that Buck gave in response. They were grinding pretty damn heavily right now, Buck’s legs spread and Eddie more than happily settled between them, and he was tempted to just keep at it right here, kissing Buck, feeling the broad muscle of him, rutting against each other like teenagers until they came.

On the other hand... he did have something he’d been wanting to try. And the up-against-the-wall thing was for when they were trying to be quick and quiet, not for when they actually had time and privacy on their hands.

“Mmm, actually...” Eddie nipped at Buck’s jaw. “Other way around.”

“What?” Buck sounded breathless and Eddie could practically feel the wheels turning in Buck’s head.

“I...” Eddie kissed just under Buck’s jaw. “Want you...” He kissed Buck’s neck. “To...” Buck’s throat. “Fuck me.” Buck’s collarbone.

Buck was panting, straining against his jeans, his hands flexing helplessly around Eddie’s biceps. “Are - fuck are you sure?”

Eddie licked at Buck’s pulse point. “Pretty damn sure. Let’s get you on the bed.”

Buck was like a goddamn puppy tripping over his damn feet hurrying to obey. Eddie rolled his eyes fondly as he followed, undoing his pants and pulling his shirt up over his head as he did so. No matter how many times they did this, he never failed to get a little jolt in his chest at seeing how eager Buck was, how enthusiastic and into this he was - and with Eddie? When Buck could have any damn person he wanted with his giving heart and easy smile?

It didn’t make a lick of sense but Eddie was done looking gift horses in the mouth.

He crawled over Buck, kissing him, and reached around for the lube and condoms. “But - are you sure?” Buck repeated. He was lazily stroking his cock, and he looked so fucking pretty, all flushed and biting his lip like that, and Eddie was really fucking tempted to slide inside him...

But no. Nope, he wanted to try being on the bottom, dammit, and he was determined.

He slung a leg over, straddling Buck, who took the lube from him nervously. “What if I...”

“Oh my God.” The effort it took not to roll his eyes was fucking insane. “Buck. You’re going to be fine. C’mere.”

Buck relaxed the second that Eddie started kissing him. “Unless you want me to do it myself and you can watch...”

Buck groaned, his hand sliding down Eddie’s back, grabbing his ass as if out of instinct. Eddie laughed into the kiss, flicking his tongue over Buck’s lower lip, teasing him. “I’ll take that as a no?”

“Yeah,” Buck agreed, and Eddie spread his legs, taking Buck’s wrist in his hand.

“Start slow.”

“I did sleep with a lot of women before you, you know.”

“Oh, I know.” Eddie pulled Buck’s tongue into his mouth, sucking on it. “Mmm. But you like being a good boy for me, and I want to take my time.”

Buck made one of those surprised little noises that sounded punched out of him, and Eddie grinned savagely, forcing himself to exhale and relax as he felt Buck’s slicked-up finger sliding inside.

“Good,” Eddie murmured, right up against Buck’s mouth. Buck’s eyes searched his face with this look of awe that Eddie knew for a fact he didn’t deserve, but craved anyway. Sometimes, in his darker moments, he worried it was selfish of him to keep Buck, to keep this man who gave and wanted affection so much and so easily.

Then he saw Buck looking at him like this, kissing him with reverence, following Eddie’s every order, and he knew - whether he deserved Buck or not, Buck wanted him, and that was all that mattered.

Buck curled his finger inside of him and Eddie tightened instinctively, forcing himself to relax a second later. It felt... weird, odd, to have something inside of him there, but it was starting to feel better, starting to feel good.

“I don’t know how you let me do this to you,” Buck murmured. “Fuck, Eddie, you’re - you’re so - fuck.”

He slid his hand around the back of Buck’s head, guiding him, licking into his mouth. “Because you’re good to me. That’s how.” So good. Sometimes, Eddie worried, too good.

Buck groaned and twisted his finger in and out, his hips twitching up even though the only had empty air to find. “Christ. Can I...”

“Yeah, go ahead.” Just the one finger wasn’t enough anymore. He wanted more, wanted a bit of a stretch, wanted to feel satisfied.

Buck slid a second finger in, scissoring them, trying to be fucking courteous and get Eddie prepped, like the sweet stupidly thoughtful person he always claimed he wasn’t.

“I’m not gonna break, Buck.” Eddie tugged at Buck’s lip and shoved back against his fingers. “C’mon. I want to actually feel it tomorrow.”

“Motherfucker.” Buck thrust his fingers in with a little harder, twisting them just so, and Eddie’s body lit up like fuckin’ Christmas.

“Shit.” He ground down on Buck’s fingers. “Again, fuck, do that again.”

Buck grinned, doing exactly as he was told, his gaze darting all over Eddie’s face. Fuck. It felt - yeah, that was why Buck squirmed and whimpered all the time when Eddie was fucking him. Eddie wasn’t stupid, he knew what the prostate was, but knowing about it (and knowing how to use it to turn Buck into a begging wreck) was different from feeling it. His body felt like it was sparking with electricity.

Buck looked like he was seeing a fucking revelation as he fucked Eddie on his fingers, his mouth open in a half-smile, his face flushed like he was the one getting fucked.

“Add a third,” Eddie ordered. Buck was impatient and so sometimes Eddie only prepped him on two, but Buck was also fucking used to this by now and Buck’s cock was... proportionate to the rest of him. Eddie was not going to end up as one of those embarrassing 9-1-1 calls he’d had to go on in his time just because he was a little too eager.

Buck groaned and kissed him frantically, his free hand gripping Eddie’s hip tight enough to bruise. Eddie kept his hand in Buck’s hair, guiding Buck down to his neck, arching up as Buck sucked what was sure to be a viciously large hickey. Fuck, yes. He rolled his hips, his spine feeling like it was melting, hot and warm and nothing but pleasure.

“You’re doing so well,” he growled, tugging lightly on Buck’s hair. “So good for me, so good.”

Buck whined, high in the back of his throat, and Eddie could feel Buck’s cock jerking against his thigh, Buck’s chest heaving against his. Eddie grinned breathlessly. Didn’t matter what position they were in, Buck was a sucker for praise.

“Can I?” Buck asked, his voice raw and rough. “Please, can I - is it okay, are you - can I--”

“Yeah, yeah you can, you did so well for me.” He pushed Buck back onto the bed and braced himself as Buck rolled the condom on. Hmm.

Eddie batted Buck’s hand away, squeezing the base of his cock, and Buck’s entire body jerked. “Fuck.”

“Can’t have you coming too soon.”

“You’re an asshole, did you know that? You’re a complete--ohJesusmotherfucking--” Buck’s sentence changed course as Eddie sank down onto him.

Fuck, okay, that was a stretch. He could see why Buck liked it, though. That feeling of being filled, stretched, felt good. He didn’t understand why someone would want a cock in them for the entirety of an hour-long nap (and that had been a fun adventure, if you replaced ‘fun’ with ‘heart stopping’ and ‘adventure’ with ‘terror’ because Christopher had come home early while they were still napping in bed) the way certain people, namely the guy currently under him, did, but yeah, it felt pretty fucking good.

Eddie focused on breathing, his gaze going unfocused and then snapping back into focus again as he adjusted and relaxed into it. Buck had done a good job - he didn’t feel worried about it being too much or hurting him - but it was still new, still a bit weird around the edges, and he wasn’t going to risk it.

Buck was practically vibrating beneath him by the time Eddie planted his hands on Buck’s chest and pushed himself up, then slowly lowered himself back down. “Stay,” he ordered, and Buck nodded, even as his gaze zeroed in on the sight of his cock sliding in and out of Eddie’s body.

Shit, yeah, that was really good. Eddie forced himself to keep it slow and not to push himself too far, too fast. Buck whimpered.

A ghost of a smile flitted across Eddie’s face. “Yeah, knew you’d like that.” He pushed himself up until only the head of Buck’s cock was in him, then pushed himself back down.

Buck’s moan bounced off the bedroom walls. His nails dug into Eddie’s thighs, his flush reaching all the way down to his chest. “I wanna... please, Eddie, I want...”

“I know what you want.” Eddie pushed himself up and then lowered himself back down, a little faster this time. Mmm, yeah, the burn was blurring away and it was all turning into one slick glide. “And you’ll get it, but not yet.”

Buck’s head fell back against the pillow and he pouted shamelessly. “Eddie...”

“If you complain, I’ll stay just like this.” He sank all the way down and then stayed there, his thighs burning, and stroked his cock. “Use you just like this, get myself off. And you won’t get to come at all.”

Buck visibly choked. “You wouldn’t.”

“Try me.”

Buck swallowed. “I’ll be good.”

Eddie pecked him on the lips. “That’s what I thought. You get to fuck me when I’m good and ready for you to.”

Buck’s fingers flexed around his thighs, but he stayed good and still as Eddie used him, tested out slightly different angles, different speeds, pushing himself until his body was buzzing and his head felt like it was floating slightly outside of him somewhere. God, it felt good, felt powerful, being in control like this, deciding on the pace, using Buck for his pleasure.

He could see Buck biting down on his lip, struggling to keep from begging. God, he really was so good for him.

Eddie dragged his nails down Buck’s chest and Buck arched up, gasping, eyes dark and wide. Hottest fuckin’ man in the world. And he was Eddie’s. “Go on then.” He reached up, cupping Buck’s cheek, dragging his thumb across Buck’s plush mouth. “You’ve been good for me, go ahead, fuck me.”

Buck didn’t have to be told twice. He rolled them over, his hands landing with a soft thump on either side of Eddie’s head, and he practically dove into Eddie, his face tucked into the curve of Eddie’s neck, his hips working frantically.

Oh, fuck, yes, fuck, this - this was fucking good, this was - holy fucking shit. Buck had clearly been paying attention to which angles had made Eddie’s body seize up with pleasure and he was replicating those angles now even as he moaned against Eddie’s hot, sweat-slick skin.

Eddie wrapped his arms around him, dragged his palms up and down Buck’s back, soothing him as much as he was holding on. He loved when Buck got like this, desperate and strung-out, chasing his high and all because of Eddie. He only let Eddie bring him to this point, to this brink, and only with Eddie did he let go. It was a rush like none other.

And this angle was fucking perfect, Jesus Christ. Buck couldn’t come just from his prostate, he needed his cock stroked (and oh, what fun Eddie’d had with that knowledge), but Eddie was starting to suspect - holy fuck, yeah he was - fuck, fuck, fuck--

He seized up a final time as his circuits fried, his nails digging into Buck’s skin, his legs jerking like he’d been hit with a live wire.

Okay, yup, definitely able to come untouched, that was a fun new tidbit.

Buck made a noise like he’d been wounded, shaking hard all over, his thrusts turning erratic. Eddie realized he’d clenched around Buck’s cock as he’d come and he did it again. Buck bit down hard on Eddie’s shoulder.

“Yeah, that’s it.” Eddie started up a rhythm, even as the feeling of Buck inside him started to feel like too much, like overstimulation. “C’mon, come for me, take what you need. Fuckin’ love you like this, come on, show me how much you like it.”

Buck gave a whimper that turned into a long moan, his hips slapping hard against Eddie as his body went stiff and he came.

“Good,” Eddie praised, petting him. “Good, good boy. You did so well.”

Buck managed to roll to the side a little, nuzzling Eddie like an oversized cat. “You feel so good.”

“Glad to hear it. From all that begging I thought you absolutely hated it.”

“Oh, fuck off.” Buck tied off the condom and threw it in the trash, curling right back up against Eddie again. “How much time we got?”

Eddie glanced at the bedside clock. “Another half an hour.”

“Mmm. Nap...” Buck was already half-asleep.

Eddie stroked his fingertips over the curve of Buck’s shoulder. God, Buck was so good, no matter what Eddie wanted or asked of him.

He only hoped he was just as good in return.

#mads answers things #mads writes stuff #buddie #buddie fanfic #911 fox #911 fanfic #I don't know how these feelings snuck in here #but here we are #blame Eddie's low self-esteem

105 notes · View notes

artificialqueens · 3 years

Text

Make The Most of the Dark (Bitney) - Puppy

Summary:

Bianca is playing a babysitter for her cousin and a group of her friends at prom.

Courtney has come with someone else but they seem to have gotten distracted.

What happens when they lock eyes and meet up again?

Inspired by Madonna’s “Crazy For You”

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28301046

A/N: Merry Christmas, folks. This was for @opalescent-cheetah for a song fic challenge. I hope you all enjoy and have a happy holidays.

Swaying room as the music starts

Strangers making the most of the dark

Two by two their bodies become one

Bianca observed the dancing couples in front of her and hoped no one heard her laughing over the music. The DJ just switched to a different track: something schmaltzy and slow, almost like how that night had been. Some of the couples in front of her honestly looked ridiculous to her. Most of them were either glued together or it was very obvious it was the first time they had danced together. Were they waiting for a third person to sandwich themselves between? If they were leaving room for Jesus, the space between could have fit Him and two other disciples.

She wasn’t intending to spend the past few hours leaned against the wall of the gym counting down the minutes, but here she was: standing in a dress she sewed herself and her reddish-brown hair in a fancy updo. She’d been to cotillion, and the atmosphere was much different. If those instructors ever knew what she was up to now, they’d probably have the biggest fit.

Bianca came with a few friends, but she didn’t really have a date. One of them practically begged her to drive, but she wasn’t aware that she was bringing a whole squad. They didn’t hate her, they just needed a designated driver if/when things got too much. Knowing that particular friend group, things were to get too much.

I see you through the smokey air

Can’t you feel the weight of my stare

You’re so close but still a world away

Among the dancing couples and general modes of merriment, someone started to approach her. Bianca squinted, as one of the disco lights was right in her eye. “Do you want me to unlock the car? You have to get whatever it is yourself. Just try not to hurt yourself on the way…” She did a quick double take and, realizing her mistake, she apologized profusely “Oh my god, I am SO SORRY. I thought you were someone else.”

“It’s fine,” the other girl responded. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Yeah… at least you aren’t one of my charges. Good thing you’re just one of those short-skirted, nice-titted, blonde bitches.” Oh shit… that definitely came out wrong. Please don’t leave me here. She hissed through gritted teeth.

“I’m one of many. Glad you think these are nice though.” She laughed; her blonde curls bouncing with every sound, and Bianca couldn’t stop staring at them. Great, she wasn’t offended. Her sense of humor… wasn’t strange, but it took some getting used to; it’s very off-putting at first listen. “Wait… don’t we have a class together?”

“Yeah! AP Lit.” The auburn-haired girl slowly nodded her head. “You’re Courtney, right?” She nodded her head. “Cool…” The tension between those two wasn’t awkward, per say but “So… what brings you over here? I’m just looking to see if those guys don’t do anything stupid,” She gestured to a group on the other side of the gym, loitering by the punch bowl. Bianca silently prayed they didn’t spike it. “And then to drive them to the after party… wherever it is. Probably some Motel 6 in the middle of nowhere…. Or some sketchy apartment uptown.”

“The apartment isn’t that sketchy,” Courtney added, then stopped herself. “Well that depends on who’s hosting this year. Is Jared hosting again?”

“Hey, don’t shoot the messenger. No one told me and I might not know until I get back in the car. Dory wasn’t invited, so I assume she and her friends will be crashing.”

“Wait, Dory?”

“Adore. My little cousin. She’s visiting from Azusa and she wanted to see what the scene was like. How was I to know she’d bring an entourage?”

“Oh my…”

“And you’re still dodging the question there, Court.”

“My date kinda blew me off last minute. Very last minute, now that I think about it.”

Well, that answers that question, Bianca let out a breath before answering. “Oh shit…”

“And it sucks because I drove her here! Just for her to spend all her time with someone else!” Courtney stared directly at her ditcher as she picked a few petals off her corsage. “She loves me, she loves me not.”

For a time, the two girls just stood there, wallowing in their own problems. They stared at each other, unsure of their next move. Bianca could only just take in her classmate’s beauty and the fact that she came with a date only made it better; there was nothing more beautiful than the unattainable, she always said. However, there was this chance. There was still something about Courtney that just itched at her brain a certain way. They were never really close, but there were always qualities she admired: her effervescence, the way she just lit up whatever room she was in.

“I think I should make her jealous.”

“What?”

“Why not make her jealous? She’s dancing with someone else, so obviously, I should get back.” Courtney replied, though her mind may not have been the most sound. Revenge often clouded this sort of judgement.

Some gears turned in the girl’s mind. The next song came on and Bianca pulled her classmate into the center of the gym. “B, what are you doing?” But she didn’t say anything more as the two girls wordlessly swayed along to the music, a little closer than what they had been before.

Courtney laid her head on Bianca’s chest and stared directly at her date with a look of both pettiness and regret. This may have seemed fun in the moment, but they just had to talk it out sooner or later. Maybe this was some big misunderstanding that could easily be cleared the next day. Yes, her girlfriend was great, but no one should ever feel like a third wheel on their own date. Being with this… mutual friend at best felt comforting, motherly.

The blonde looked up at her dancing partner who stared back at her. There was this gravitational pull drawing themselves closer and closer until their lips briefly met. “Sorry… I shouldn’t have done that, shouldn’t I?” Bianca quietly apologized before being shushed.

“You’re good.” The other girl hesitated a bit before continuing. “You can keep going if you want.”

“You sure?”

Courtney nodded again and reinitiated the kiss.

Sure the two had their own things to worry about, but in this moment it was just the two of them in the middle of the dance floor. Nothing else could have escaped that feeling.

What I’m dying to say, is that

I’m crazy for you

Touch me once and you’ll know it’s true

I never wanted anyone like this

It’s all brand new

#rpdr fanfiction #bianca del rio #courtney act #bitney #high school au #lesbian au #song fic #fluff #puppy

9 notes · View notes

gingyboo · 3 years

Text

Mirror Mirror

A/N: Again many thanks to @booglebug

Description- Soulmates existed. People knew that much. Soulmates were rare, a handful in each generation, an unexplainable phenomenon that formed a bond closer than blood and more sacred than marriage.

Bucky finds his soulmate when he needs her most. Little does he know how much she needs him too.

(Soulmate au that slots pretty much in to the MCU but with soulmates. Set after TFATWS.)

Pairing- Bucky Barnes x OFC

Warnings- Mentions of violence and guns, but its mostly fluff, drama and angst.

This is a multi chaptered fic.

Please like, comment, reblog!

prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8

Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13

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

Chapter 14

“Bucky…” she started again, Bucky held up a hand to stop her

“Don’t, please Nancy don’t.” He shook his head.”

“I am sorry though Buck.”

“Don’t be, god Nancy, I flipped in there, seeing you there, with him trying to get into your head, I couldn’t bare it.”

“You’re angry at yourself?” She asked

“You had to threaten yourself to get me to stand down.” He grabbed her, pulling her face to his. “How could I let that happen.” Nancy twisted in his grip, pressing her lips to the pulse point on his wrist. His pained expression softened slightly.

“Bucky, we got what we needed. Okay, you know what he was doing in there, you let this get between us and he wins okay. Look at me, look at us, we’re okay. We know where Kit is, the mission is complete.” Bucky met her eyes then, aquamarine bore into emerald. A shiver ran through them both and they sprung apart.

“You felt that?” He whispered, Nancy nodded. He slid his hand across to hers. The feeling was gone but Nancy felt the familiar joy of his presence.

“A soulmate thing I guess?” She responded.

“I think this thing goes deeper than either of us expected.” Bucky twirled a strand of hair through his fingers. “Shuri’s probably got some theory’s on it.”

“Maybe we should try and find out more.” She agreed.

“Yeah, probably. Do you have any idea how happy I was when I saw you looking back at me all those months ago? I knew I wasn’t alone anymore. Everything I’ve been through, the things I’ve seen, meeting you, made it seem like there was a point to it. Getting to know you, I think it was worth it.” Bucky declared.

“Bucky…” Nancy croaked. She knew what he’d told her about his past but also knew there was much more he hadn’t told her.

“Wait. I can’t give you a normal life, I want to because you deserve to be safe and secure, but trouble seems to follow me. I can only promise that I was always try to protect you from it.” He looked like he might cry navy reached her hand round to sweep across his cheek.

“Please, let me speak.” she started, steadying her voice. “I felt the same, when I found you I felt complete, I loved you from the first moments I spent with you, I can’t have a life without you, when Helmut said I was my brothers biggest weakness, I realised you’re mine, and then I hurt you, don’t say I didn’t because I saw it in your eyes. We stand together, I set us apart it was unforgivable.”

“There’s nothing you could do that I wouldn’t forgive.” He insisted, his vibranium hand against hers on his cheek. Nancy smiled, her whole face lighting up.

“And for the record, trouble seems to find me just fine, and who wants a normal life, any life with you would be extraordinary.”

“Nancy, we might not get the big house in the country, I might not get to give you the kind of life you’re used to. I don’t work nine to five, I haven’t got a credit score or a pension plan, we might not get a puppy or have some kids…”

“Oh no we will have kids,” Nancy cut him off with a laugh, shaking her head.

“How are you so certain.” Bucky smiled back.

“Because I’m as stubborn as I am beautiful, because i think you want kids, and so do I, because our life will be different, but I’ll be damned if it’s not exactly the life we both want.” She let up kissing his forehead and both his cheeks.

“Are you sure?” He pressed his forehead into hers.

“Absolutely, you don’t need a pension, or a credit score and I don’t care where we live, New York, London, Timbuktu for all I care. I have money, I know it can’t buy me those moments in our future.” She exclaimed. She looked briefly round the cabin. “Where’d you suppose Sam got to?”

“I think he’s giving us a moment.” Bucky chuckled, tilt her chin to press his lips against hers, she chuckled into it, running her fingers through his hair.

“You think a lot about our future,” he asked, kissing along her jawline.

“Yes.” She blushed slightly, biting her lip.

“Tell me.” Both hands were in her hair now, moving against her scalp as her head tilted back, giving him access to her neck.

“Okay,” She breathed in heavily, closing her eyes. “so, I think we’ll have a little place somewhere, not too busy, nice and secluded, you can go off on your missions and know there’s a safe place to come home to. We can have kids, they’ll get under our feet when we put up the Christmas decorations, they’ll sneak out of bed to see you when you come home late. A little boy with your big blue eyes, a little girl dusted in my freckles. We can have Sam round for barbecues…” Nancy was cut off by Bucky sitting back up straight.

“Don’t talk about Sam right now.” He laughed.

“So nice little place, couple of kids, what will you be doing? I cannot picture you as the doting housewife.” He tapped her nose playfully.

“Maybe I’ll be heading out next to you,” His face filled with horror, she laughed again and his face relaxed, “or I’ll finally put that degree I got to good use, start writing again.”

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

They arrived in Cornwall under cover of night. The trio trudged sleepily across the field and made their way to a cosy Clift top B&B. The elderly lady on the desk showed them up to two rooms. Bucky and Nancy settled into their nightly routine, he lay with his arms wrapped around her as she traced the gold detailing in his left arm.

“I think Sam’s idea is good, we’ll start at the docks tomorrow, work our way down the coast from there.” Bucky said, Nancy nodded sleepily. “Sorry, were you trying to sleep?”

“No no, it’s okay, keep talking, your voice is soothing.” She smiled, snuggling deeper into his embrace.

“Okay, different topic, tell me about Thomas Gregory.” He whispered in her ear. She laughed loudly, turning round to face him.

“He was Kit’s best friend, so he was a little older, I was 11 and thought he was perfect. He was actually an arsehole. But I fancied he was my soulmate. Kit used to tease me constantly about him, why’d you ask, feeling jealous?” She asked giggling.

“No, I was merely curious.” He insisted.

“Sure sure, I do think you’re right about Sam’s plan. If he is using Thomas’s name then we can look for that. If he’s using a different alias maybe I’ll recognise it. Helmut did think he wanted me to find him. Also, if he has taken the serum maybe some locals have noticed a local fisherman with super strength.”

“You think he’s become a fisherman?” Bucky said, surprised.

“Well, I was thinking, he loves to be at sea, the navy is out of the question and if he is wanting me to find him, he’d have to stay local. Cornwall is known for its’ roaring fishing trade.”

“I wouldn’t know, but it’s a good place to begin,”

“So, we’ll do this undercover, no stars, no stripes and no metal arm.” Her eyes pleaded with him.

“I packed my gloves.” He waved the vibranium at her. She smiled as the soft light from the bedside lamp reflected off it. A yawn came over her and Bucky reached back to switch off the light. Nancy turned again, her back now pressed back against Bucky’s chest. Sleep fell over them both.

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

They headed out to the coast at dawn. The early morning sun beating down on them. Chatted cheerfully on along the way, he seemed to have lost his hostility from the day before. The first village they came across turned out to be a tourist hotspot, Nancy managed to hire them a car. The first harbour they found didn’t recognise the name Thomas Gregory or the picture Nancy brought up of Kit on her phone. The second harbour told the same story but once they reached the third harbour they had some hope.

“I think I might’ve seen him round here before, tall fellow,” The harbour master explained. Nancy nodded eagerly. “I think he usually mores over the ridge, wait here a moment.” The man jogged back to his portacabin and returned with a clipboard. “Here it is, Greg Thomas, stayed here a few months back, just the one night, the boat you’re looking for is the Princess Lynnette.” He smiled cheerfully at them. Nancy froze but the man didn’t notice as Sam thanked him whilst he walked away.

“You okay there?” Sam asked tapping her shoulder, “it’s good news, he might not be far.”

“He named his boat after me.” She whispered. Bucky smiled but Sam looked confused.

“Princess Lynnette?”

“Lynnette is my middle name.” Nancy explained, fondling the car keys before nodding to herself and marching back to the car. She slipped behind the driver’s seat and started the engine. Kit was close, she could almost feel it, as they drove over the ridge a large cove came into view. The harbour was a rush with activity as the boats came in from their morning runs. They pulled into a nearby car park and entered the throng of people. With everyone so busy they had to do without help finding the boat. They flittered in and out of crowds and up and down the jetty. Just when Nancy was losing hope she caught sight a surprisingly still boat at the end of one row. Every other boat had people rushing on and off loading and unloading goods. This one was silent, Nancy approached it slowly, and there were the words, Princess Lynnette, printed in blue along the side of a modestly sized fishing boat. It had curtains drawn across the window. She reached up to knock tentatively on the window. There was no response. Bucky came up and wrapped an arm round her shoulder.

“It’s his, it has to be.” She felt tears pricking at her eyes.

“We’ll give you a minute.” Bucky nodded at Sam who was admiring the docks comings and goings. They walked a little way away as Nancy stared at the boat, waiting for the curtain to twitch or the boat to rock. It just kept bobbing gently. She knocked again, harder this time, the again and again.

“Can I help you?” A voice sounded from behind her. Nancy span on one heel, her hair flying around as she did, getting whipped up in the wind.

“Nancy.” Kit was standing there, the same but different. He seemed bigger, he’d grown out his hair and was sporting a beard, his skin tanned more than it had been before. He looked different, but he was still, unmistakably, her big brother, he really was alive.

“Kit.” She said, breathless as her legs gave out under her.

#bucky barnes #winter solider #sam wilson #captain america #mcu #mcu fic #soulmate

1 note · View note

intruality-overlord · 4 years

Text

A Generic Mistletoe Fic

Date: 23.12.19

Ship: Logicality

Type: Fluff, light angst

Words: 1336

v^V^v^V^v

December first.

Mistletoe.

Damned mistletoe.

Death, big and or small, dangled above their heads daringly. The glossy white berries glared at him. Logan glared back. Fluttering leaves like eyelashes, it tried tempting with its mockery of puppy-dog eyes. He wasn't sure if he was being dared to eat the berries, or ignore the basic principles of consent. Neither option appealed.

Tradition.

Damned tradition.

What was so important about it? How could "But it's tradition!" be a valid argument when it's so vulnerable to subjectivity. Tradition was only obeyed when convenient, and burned and spit on otherwise (like it most often should be).

No.

He refused.

How was he expected to burden him with an unwanted kiss because of the mere pretence of seizure berries looming above the two, high and smug with tradition's permission? Mistletoe stole the meaning, the intimacy, and consent. A kiss under mistletoe was like assuming the ocean was only as deep as it was clear: That stars were only as big as your naked eyes told you so. Shallow as a puddle, small as a firefly, trivial as a handshake.

If a kiss ever were to happen between them (especially the first), it would be on their own terms, rather under an understanding of boundaries, with full knowledge of requited affections. And certainly not with an audience hidden horribly next to the lamp obnoxiously screeching and taking photos, Roman.

Logan side stepped out of the kitchen doorway.

When his eyes settled on Patton, still frozen in the doorway, his cold glare melted as the tension in his jaw slacked. Patton was taking quick shallow breaths that visibly flexed his rib cage. His eyes were wide, and they took a moment catching up to track Logan's movement.

Strangely, Logan felt himself not in the mood for giving a big lecture. Clutching the cup of coffee he came to the kitchen for, he escaped back to his room.

He refused. He ignored the mistletoe.

v^V^v^V^v

December twenty third.

"Salutations, Patton," Logan said, leaning on the kitchen doorway with otherwise impeccable posture. A question was tucked under his tongue, ready to spit out at the first opportunity.

Patton startled mid-step as he looked through the cupboards. "Oh! Hi—" Patton chirped, spinning on the balls of his feet to face him, "Oh, uh, Logy!" But he reflexively whipped back around as soon as he saw Logan. Finding Patton in the kitchen was unsurprising. Lately, Patton had been popping in and out of the kitchen very frequently. He always found some excuse, "Silly me, I forgot a napkin," and, "Silly me, I forgot my, uh, chopsticks?" Frankly, Logan didn't think Patton really was so forgetful, in his humble opinion.

Tipping his head back, Logan's stare locked on the white seizure berries. They had been joined by tinsel framing the doorway, as well as a few Christmas ornaments over the course of December. Everything was love heart themed or had a red pallet. Although cheesy and confusing (why were they here when they had a perfectly good Christmas tree—), Logan had to admit, the decorations had a charm to it that the mistletoe wasn't contributing towards.

In his peripheral vision, he saw Patton preparing a mug of hot cocoa. Considering how many of those Patton had chugged in the last couple of hours, Logan was surprised he wasn't having a sugar rush. (It was also odd Patton wasn't regulating his intake of sugary treats.)

Sparing him a glance, Patton's stirring slowly halted. His eyes swept across the mistletoe, and lingered on Logan.

Then snapped back to hyper focus on the boiling kettle. Noisily, the spoon clinked as he stirred the milk and chocolate powder. Some spilt on the counter from his twitchy movements.

The kettle finished boiling. The clinking spoon became louder.

"Who hung up the mistletoe, Patton?" Logan eventually asked. (He'll admit he wasn't great at segways.) He had his suspicions with Roman, but concluded that it was a biased hypothesis considering any one of them could have done so. Asking Patton, a naturally honest person, was the obvious next step in finding the culprit.

Patton nearly dropped the kettle while he was pouring.

"I—" Patton set down the kettle, seemingly not trusting his hands. Red highlighted his freckles.

"I forgot the marshmallows," he muttered, and made to dart out of the room. But he paused, watching Logan expectantly.

"Who hung up the mistletoe?" Logan repeated. When silence took over, Logan finally rested his eyes on Patton and his fidgeting.

...

Patton caved easily. "I did..." he said. He couldn't help it. Not when that stare gave him so much attention.

What? That... made sense, but wasn't what Logan expected. The right puzzle pieces wanted to fit together, but they weren't the correct orientation yet.

"Why?" He said, as if the answer wasn't obvious. It threw off his assumption of the mistletoe being just a prank of some sort. Shoulders hunched, Patton whispered, "I was hoping that... the person I like would kiss me. But clearly..." and he trailed off.

Logan was so confused. Only because he couldn't scrunch his nose and eyebrows any further did he realise he had in the first place. He short circuited. "Why don't you just ask?" He said, baffled. Bowing his head, Patton watched his shuffling feet, too. "I don't want to be too forward," he shrugged.

"And this approach isn't forward?"

"W-well I— I um," he stammered, "I just thought— If... he liked me, surely he'd take the opportunity to kiss me. It would be romantic." Patton's hands couldn't pick between playing with the hem of his shirt and rubbing his arms.

"I don't find anything about mistletoe to be romantic," Logan said bluntly. Directing his eyes back to the mistletoe overhead, he tried to take the pressure off Patton. Maybe the lack of his watch did make him more comfortable or he shocked him, because there was a long pause before Patton's feeble, "What?" Poor Patton was becoming wobbly.

Enough, Patton's nervousness was becoming contagious.

Logan's expression softened into a smile, which barely qualified as such, yet was genuine. Movements slow and obvious, he rested his hands on Patton's shoulders. With gentle coaxing, he guided Patton's shoulders to relax. Warmth from his palms seemed to help ease the tension further. Once again moving slow and obvious, he took both of Patton's hands away from where they tugged at his sleeves. In both hands, he clasped them protectively in a hold loose enough to shake off. Logan thought Patton needed gloves.

Intently, Patton watched him with widened eyes with widened pupils.

"Mistletoe," he began, "makes the kiss because of an obligation." Logan swiped his thumbs over Patton's chilly fingers. "Not because of love, like it should be," he softly explained in short. With a puff of warm air, Logan continued to rub warmth into Patton's hands. It seemed to work as Patton flushes pink.

A heartbeat of quiet. Not silence, a comfortable quiet.

"Who do you like?" Logan asked quietly, his hope leaking into his tone. "U-uhm," Patton's voice cracked. His frenzied eyes dashed around, however never left Logan's face. Especially not his docile smile.

"I l-like you," Logan took a leap of faith. Pink smudged across his cheeks and nose.

Patton squeaked, "O-Okay?"

"What does— wha— what does that mean?"

"I like you, too," Patton said at last, sighing in relief.

Logan smiled infinitely brighter. So bright, the grin looked like an alien star on him. "In that case..." He drew Patton into his chest, into the kitchen doorway, under the mistletoe. "Can I—"

"Can I?" They both said in sync.

"Yes—"

"Definitely."

Patton giggled, "Absolutely."

Logan began to lean down, and Patton was already on his tiptoes. Their lips meet halfway in a gentle press. Through the kiss, slow and sweet, Logan tasted the spoonful of chocolate Patton had sampled. Of course, he just thought it was the flavour of Patton. When they eventually broke apart, Logan said, "In the future, just talk to me. Yeah?"

"I will."

#sander sides #thomas sanders #ts sander sides #logicality fic #logicality #ts logan #logan sanders #ts patton #patton sanders #ts roman #roman sanders #fluff #logicality fluff #lallyphant’s writing #my writing

128 notes · View notes

imaginepirates · 4 years

Text

Not-So-White Christmas

A christmas fic where Will meets the reader at a ball and they spend the holidays together. Really, it's just fluffiness and feel-good.

For @theaspiringscreenwritersblog

~2900 words

@bonjour-frens @tesserphantom @ilikebritsandbands @viper-official

~~~~~~~

The ball was buzzing with activity. People jammed the halls; nearly all of Port Royal showed up. The Governor and his daughter were ever the gracious hosts, though you couldn't tell how she was able to stand the constant badgering from men twice her age. She took it all with a smile, and you saw her make her escape as the music began.

Candles were hung around the room, dimly flickering in their holders. Two massive tables were piled high with food and drink, attracting people to talk around them. Pine trees stood at even intervals around the hall, and each was dusted with fake snow. Even the smell of the hall was that of cinnamon, and the music was prepared for the season. Christmas was only a few days away, and the wealthy made the most of it.

You were a server, balancing flukes of champagne on a tray and maneuvering through the mass of bodies in the hall. It took everything you had not to bump into- or be bumped by- eager partygoers.

Dancers took their places on the floor and you stared at them wistfully, knowing you'd never be able to dance that way with someone. You'd always wanted to attend a ball; serving at them was much less fun. Still, you couldn't help but smile. It was the magic of the season, you supposed.

It was nice to see other people happy, too. You did little for Christmas, but you liked the lights people put in their windows and the cheap candies stores had for sale. Port Royal took away from the season with its year-round heat and complete lack of snow, but you were used to it now.

There were lots of servers at the ball. You'd worked with most of them while setting up for the ball, but there were still some you didn't know. The tall, handsome blacksmith's apprentice William, for example. You and the other girls talked about him sometimes. He mostly kept to himself, so there was little any of you knew about him, but you all liked to speculate. He did most of the heavy lifting, so you weren't in the same working groups, but you watched him from afar. He was a sweet looking boy and couldn't have been much older than you were.

You were coming around a pillar when you walked right into someone. Thankfully, your tray was empty. The flukes of champagne had eagerly been taken by guests. There were a few men already on their second, and you knew you were in for a long night.

Clutching your tray, you took a step back to steady yourself. "Sorry!" You squeaked, half expecting to have run into a guest.

"It was my fault," said a nervous voice. "I didn't see you while coming around the pillar. I should've been paying more attention. Are you alright?"

To your surprise, it wasn't a guest, but another server in front of you. "William, I didn't expect to see you here." It was no lie. He too held an empty tray. "I didn't know you'd be working as a server."

"We need all the servers we can get, miss. The ball has been the most attended of the year."

He was right. The ball was teeming with people. "Very true. Would you like to refill your tray with me? We shouldn't keep all the guests waiting on their second- or third- glass."

"Of course."

He let you lead the way, trailing after you like a lost puppy. He looked at everything with big brown eyes, and he kept playing with the cuffs of his sleeves, keeping his tray tucked under an arm.

An attendant carefully handed you a full tray when you reached the kitchens. She handed one to William as well, and you walked back into the crowd. You were soon separated, but you kept an eye on him as much as you could. Guests didn't pay either of you any mind, save for the few men who let their eyes wander over you. You bristled each time, but moved quickly passed.

It was hours by the time the ball ended, and you were exhausted. It had run into the early hours of the morning. You were on your feet the whole time, scurrying between groups of people, and your arms ached from balancing the trays for that long.

The first chance you got, you slid down against the wall. Closing your eyes, you let the tiredness spill over you, and took a few deep breaths to ground yourself. You needed all the strength you had left just to get home.

When you opened your eyes again, Will was sitting next to you, looking similarly tired. There were bags under his eyes that matched yours. You hoped he wouldn't have to work the next couple of days, but figured your hope was futile. More likely than not, he'd be smithing again come morning.

"Goodmorning, Will," you said.

He laughed a faint laugh that matched his soft voice and manner. "I suppose it is." He picked at a loose thread on his sleeve, which was already beginning to make lines in the fabric.

You smiled and stretched, pulling your arms over your head in an attempt to make your aching lower back feel better. Being on your feet for so long certainly hadn't helped. "I'm headed back home, I think. Are you going, too?"

"Yes, I don't think I'm needed any longer. Do you mind if I escort you home? It's terribly late."

"You don't need to," you answered. "You look like you could use some sleep."

"Don't worry about me, miss." He resumed picking at the thread poking out from his sleeve. "I'll do just fine."

A little sheepishly, you consented to let him take you home. You walked arm in arm down the cobbled streets, too tired to talk.

A couple blocks from your house was a small, cramped church with a tiny churchyard and a crooked chapel. The building was crammed between other, bigger establishments. It had meager decorations up for the season, with holly and branches from pine trees. There was no snow to give you a white Christmas, and the Caribbean warmth ruined much of the seasonal fervor, but the churches still decorated in hopes of attracting praying crowds. The little church got few visitors, and none of them were wealthy, but you went in sometimes, even if you didn't listen to the service. There were always candles for you to light in honor of your family and friends, and always short prayers to give out for yourself and your peers.

You must've given yourself away by staring for too long. Will gently guided you towards the church, helping you up the steps to the door. "Do you want to pray?" He asked once you were inside.

"No, I'd just like to light a candle. There are some on the altar rails." You led him through the little building to a small set of rails in front of a cross. "Would you like one, too?" You held out the candle, which was held in a red, candle-shaped container.

He nodded. Silently, the both of you lit your candles with the wicks of already burning ones. You placed them carefully on the rails, said a quick prayer, and were done.

"Who did you light yours for?" You asked softly. There weren't many people in the halls at this hour, but there were some.

"My father, wherever he is." There was a somber tone to his voice, and you guessed things weren't well with his family. "And you?" He asked.

"I lit mine for family as well."

You barely talked as you left the little church. Mostly, you switched between watching your feet and watching Will, who also did this. Whenever you looked up, he looked away, and the same went for you. It was strange, perhaps, not to be conversing with the person whose arm you were holding, but you were shy. So, it seemed, was he.

By the time you reached your modest home, few words had been exchanged. There was the bit of conversation at the ball, and again in the church, but the talk had been modest pleasantries.

You looked at each other awkwardly for a moment before you said goodnight. "Or goodmorning, or whatever time it is. I find I'm much too tired to care," you remarked, which earned you a smile.

"Take care of yourself, miss," said Will. You had almost unlocked the door of your house when he spoke again from the street. "I don't suppose you're doing anything? On Christmas, I mean. Unless your family will be here?"

He looked horribly nervous in asking, and you couldn't help but find it to be sweet. "No, they're all back in England."

"You wouldn't mind then, if I stopped by?"

You flushed a deep red from the top of your head down to your toes. You were thankful it couldn't be seen in the dark. "Of course not."

He was halfway down the street when you called out again. "Will?" He stopped and turned to you. "You're welcome to stop by whenever you like." With that, you headed inside, too embarrassed to catch his reaction.

~~~~~

You woke early on Christmas morning feeling a little nervous. You hoped Will would remember to come by; you had to admit that you'd be disappointed if he didn't. Even if not romantically, you wanted to get close to Will as a friend. He was kind, and had a surprisingly soft personality.

The knock on your door came as you were making breakfast. It was a meager bread pudding, but you had some sugar to sweeten it with, making it a bit of a treat. There was much of it, and you were just setting it on the table to cool when you heard someone outside.

You opened the door to find an anxious-looking Will at your door. You smiled upon finding him there and invited him in.

"I've just made breakfast," you told him. "Please, feel free to join me."

"Thank you." He stepped through the door, peeking around at the small space.

"Make yourself at home." You pulled out a stool for him to sit on while you filled a pitcher with water.

"This is nice," he said as you sat down next to him.

You thanked him, but couldn't exactly agree. Your home had few rooms, and each was cramped. There was a clutter of things lying about; unfinished needlework, spools of thread, clothing in need of patching, and small trinkets sat on every available surface. Books, too, that rested on chairs and tabletops.

"I've always wondered what it was like to have a home," he said. Seeing the confusion on your face, he continued. "I have a room at the forge, but nothing more. Someday I'll have enough money for a house of my own. Something small, but something that's mine."

You didn't know what to say. Will hadn't talked about his personal life while you worked with him; he hadn't talked much at all. "I hope you do. Get a house, that is."

"Thank you."

You sat in awkward silence, but you were able to break it by serving breakfast. It was still a bit hot, but you figured it was a good excuse to make things more comfortable.

You realized that you had no plan for the day. You wanted to visit the market and hoped he wouldn't mind coming with you. You didn't shop much, but you enjoyed looking at all the goods people had out during the holidays. There were little things that you bought yourself, but not much. You wondered what it would be like to have the money for Christmas presents.

Will didn't object to the market. In fact, he seemed happy to go, giving you his arm to take as you walked down the cobbled streets. Most people were still at home with family, but a small crowd was scattered across the streets.

The market itself was held in the city square; tents were set up, and all manner of temporary stands covered the street. People milled about, snaking their way through the stands, staring at all the trinkets on display. Red and green covered every surface, and gold stars were hung in shop windows. Hand-painted nativities sat on every table while bakers sold sugary pastries hot from the oven. Mulled cider made appearances at multiple stands, kept in large kegs, and fake snowflake decorations hung from strings.

You felt like you should be wearing a coat and gloves instead of your lightweight dress, but the southern sun was already warming the ground. You found yourself drifting towards stalls filled with jewelry and carvings. Will followed you as you gazed at glass beads and glazed clay figurines. Delicate earrings sat on display next to necklaces made of seaglass. You turned a few of the pieces over with your fingers, and were glad that none of the stall-owners hovered over you, trying to pressure you into buying anything.

Will looked at everything with a smile on his face, picking up some of the figurines and wooden carvings. You wondered if he decorated his room at the forge, or if it was empty of all but his necessities. You told yourself that you’d get him something, someday.

“Chocolate?” You asked, gesturing towards a shop across the street. It was full of people already, and it served the new favorite drink of the holidays, a steaming, chocolate flavored beverage that was much cheaper in the Caribbean than in England.

He nodded, and you grabbed his hand as you walked over, holding it the entire time you waited for the treat. You were happy to feel his thumb rubbing gently over your knuckles, and the shy smile on his face when you looked at him. You grabbed your drinks and sipped at them from where you stood in the crowd.

You were jostled to the back of the shop with your chocolate in hand, and you couldn’t see the door over the sea of heads. There was a back door, you knew, and you led Will in its direction in an attempt to free yourself from the crush of people. The door was a tiny thing; some workers had to duck to get in and out of the shop. You would fit through it just fine, but Will would have to duck down a little. You hardly noticed the plant hanging above the door, only looking at it when Will stopped before crossing through.

It was a strand of mistletoe, just for decoration, but color filled Will’s cheeks, and you could feel the heat rising to your face as well. The thought crossed your mind that Will wouldn’t want to kiss you; after all, you hardly knew each other. You watched him glance between you and the crowd behind you, and then had a much more pleasant thought.

He doesn’t want to kiss me in front of all these people.

You promptly turned your back on him and went through the door, leaving him to follow. You were in an alley behind the shop, and wondered if Will would mind the setting.

When you turned back to him, all your thoughts dissipated. He fidgeted nervously with the cuff of his sleeve, refusing to meet your eye. When he looked up, he tried to speak, stopped, and tried again. When he finally got around to saying anything, it was stuttered and adorably nervous. “I didn’t know if you wanted… that’s to say… back in the shop, there were so many people, I wasn’t sure if… but now…” he trailed off as you put a hand on his cheek.

“Will.” You gave him a knowing look, but felt yourself blushing all the same, a pleasant tightness in your chest.

“Oh.” He stared down at your lips a moment before placing a hesitant kiss to your lips, one hand on your waist and the other resting lightly on the back of your head. Your arms were crossed around the back of his neck. It was a surprisingly slow kiss, given that he seemed too nervous to give you so much as a peck. You were enjoying yourself greatly, but you both pulled away to stare at each other with silly smiles on your faces.

His expression changed to something sadder. "I'm afraid I don't have gifts to give you." He said ruefully.

"Will," you looked up at him. "Having you with me was a gift enough." He looked shocked, but you went on. "And though I don't have much, I think I can offer you one thing, at least."

"Don't feel like you need to..."

You didn't let him finish. "I'd love to let you share my home, if you'd be willing."

“That’s your space; I couldn’t encroach.”

“It’s not encroaching, Will. I’m asking you to stay with me. I think,” you bit your lip, “I think it would be nice to live with someone else instead of being alone all the time.”

“You’re sure?”

“Of course.”

“I’d be honored.” He bent down again, and this time, neither of you pulled away until you needed air.

#potc #pirates of the caribbean #pirates #pirate #will turner #will turner x reader #will x reader #christmas #christmas fic #drabble #writings #writing #drabbles #request #requests

107 notes · View notes