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alastor-simp · 28 days ago

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Heatwave🥵 - Sick Sylus x Fem Reader (R-18 Smut)

₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧Summary: It's rare to see Sylus so weak at this moment, especially from a cold. It pained you to see him like this, so you took it upon yourself to give him proper care. Unfortunately, the care he wants from you may be too much for you to handle.

₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ Genre: smut, fluff

₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧Word count: 2K+

₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧Warnings/Tags: mdni, explicit sexual content, sylus is needy when sick, spoilers from sylus secret times heatwave audio, sick fic, sick sylus, fingering, neck kissing, lots of kissing, top sylus, bottom reader, P in V, missionary position, horny sylus, mentions of sweat, soft sylus, unprotected sex, cuddling, nicknames (kitten, sweetie).

₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧Notes: I adore all of Sylus Secret Time audios, but the one that I enjoy the most is his Heatwaves one. The raspy sound of his voice when we was sick was wayyyy to hot, and the fact he sounded so soft too, wanting to cuddle with the MC. I was inspired to write a smut story about this audio, and how I expected it to go. Enjoy

₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧Link: Video to Sylus Secret Times Heatwave is here - Link

₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧Credit: Banner credit to @cafekitsune

Its been a while since you last saw Sylus, gazing at your phone at the last text message from him, cheeks blushing at the little nicknames he always called you, scrolling down to see the last message was from five days ago. Both of you had different lives, you being part of the Hunters association while he was doing his duties as the big Onychinus leader, yet you couldn't resist the urge to go and see him, missing him dearly.

Heading to the Onychinus base, that only you surprisingly had access to, you ventured into the long dark hallway, running into Luke and Kieran. "Hey! if it isn't the Boss's favorite person." said Luke, as he wrapped his arm around your shoulder, giving you a noogie. Kieran chuckled at his brothers actions, turning to you with a head tilt, "What brings you here, Y/N? Pushing Luke away from messing up your hair, you looked up at Kieran, giving him a soft smile. "Wanted to see Sylus. Is he in?"

Both of the twins stood next to each other, gazing at themselves for a bit, before looking back at you. "He is, but he might not want to see you." Kierans words stunned you for a second, wondering what he meant by that. "The boss is feeling a bit under the weather at the moment. He ordered us specifically not to have anyone disturb him." Luke said, taking note of your sad expression after what his twin said.

So that's why Sylus wasn't messaging you, he was sick, and he was dealing with this by himself? "Well, I'm not one of his employers here, so that doesn't apply to me, plus he's sick so he needs someone to look after him." Walking past the both of them, you ventured closer to the door that led to his bedroom, not before turning back to look at the twins, " I'll make sure to cover for the both of you." Despite them both wearing masks, you could tell they were smiling as they gave you a thumbs up before walking away.

Knocking on the door, there was a groggy "Who is it," from the other side, as you entered into the bedroom, spotting Sylus. Adorning his robe, he was sitting on the couch, head leaning on the back of it. His pale face appeared very flushed, beads of sweat dripping down on it. His eyes were closed, yet they opened slowly, turning to gaze at who the intruder was, spotting you. "....Oh, its you." Lips drew into a tired smirk, he continued to watch you as you came closer to where he sat, giving him a kind smile. "Hey Sy." you said softly, eyes filled with softness. "Hey kitten." He repeated what you said, yet he winced as the aching in his head was becoming unbearable, moving to lean back against the couch cushion.

"Let me guess, Luke and Kieran told you about me, when I specifically said no one was allowed to disturb me," His groggy voice was laced with irritation, as the pounding in his head was getting worse. "Well I'm not part of your organization, so what you told the twins doesn't affect me. Besides, they were worried about you and so am I." His expression softened upon hearing that, the sweet words from you making his heart race. "Fine, fine, you are an exception." Patting the spot next to him, he urged you to sit, "Come here, I want to use your lap as a pillow."

Obeying his request, you sat down where his hand was, his body maneuvering so his head laid gently on your lap, both his legs stretching out on the other side of the couch. He let out a relax sigh, admiring the softness of your lap, shutting his eyes. Ruffling his hair, you asked how he was feeling, which he responded back in a tired tone, "I'm gravely ill, one might say." His hand grasped yours that was playing with his silver locks, moving it to place it on his forehead, feeling the intense warmth, "Touch it, its burning up." The coolness of your hand provided him some relief, as he let out a pleasant sigh.

"How long have you been sick for?" Rubbing his forehead, you asked him softly, as his crimson eyes gazed up at you. "Not sure, but it won't be going away anytime soon." Raising his finger to his lip, he wanted silence, as he continued to lay on your lap, while your hand rubbed his forehead. After a couple minutes, you grew weary, looking over and seeing his empty bed, tapping his forehead to get his attention. "Sy, lets go over to the bed." Groaning a bit, Sylus slowly came up, muttering an "okay" as you helped him up, using your hands to help carry him over.

Landing on the bed, Sylus turned towards you, arms stretching out wide, wanting you to come into his arms. Smiling, you threw your jacket on the couch, while flicking your shoes off. After doing that, your body jumped and landed on top of Sylus, causing him to let out a grunt, which was then replaced with a dry chuckle, as you laid down on him, face squished against his chest, looking at him with a cute expression. He gave you his signature smirk, giving you a soft forehead flick, "Why did you plop down on me like that? I could've died." "Haha, very funny," You said, with an annoyed laugh, nuzzling closer to his chest, putting a bit more of your weight on top of him, grabbing the covers to put it over the both of you.

"Ah...I see. You want to take advantage of me after I use up all of my stamina? That's very impressive, since many of the assassins that are sent to me couldn't even do this much." His smirk turn playful, enjoying the expressions your face made when he said that. "I figured as much, since kittens are predators who enjoy toying with their prey, especially ones that will struggle?" A smack to his chest was your response to him, a deep chuckle leaving his lips, "Ouch.....be gentle." Lifting your hands up, you grasped his cheeks softly, his body jolting a bit from how cold they were, before relaxing. "That feels nice," He muttered, leaning into your touch.

He's so feverish, it's not going down, you thought, worried it was going to get worse if he didn't take something. "Want me to get you something for your fever?" Voice filled with concern, you waited for him to answer you. He lifted his eyebrow, "Medicine? I'm not taking that, it's bitter." His face grimaced, refusing to take any of that nasty stuff. "Well, if you won't take anything, how are you going to lower your fever?" Grumbling, your head lifted up from his chest, looking down at him. His eyes twinkled with amusement, arms moving to grasp your waist, flipping you on your side. His head positioned on top of your forehead, nuzzling it, "If you want me to get better..........cool me down yourself."

Words died in your throat, eyes gazing at the silver-haired man who was rubbing against your face like a cat. "Do you want me to get you an ice pack?" You asked, innocently, hoping that would be a better alternative. His head moved, signifying a no, as he held you closer, "What ice pack? You are the ice pack." Shivers went down your back, the husky tone of his voice flustering you more than usual. Large hands traveled upward, from waist to upper back, holding you tenderly. "Hmm....we should've done this earlier." He whispered, warm breath hitting your face, intensifying your blush. After a few moments, he pulled away, warm eyes peering into yours, "Your face is warm.......let me using something else then."

Lowering his head, he positioned his face in the crook of your neck— inhaling your sweet scent. Part of you wanted to tell him to stop, but how he was acting right now—being super soft and vulnerable had devastating effects on your heart. Perhaps being a ice pack wasn't so bad. His nose continued to trace alongside your neck, stopping when his eyes glanced at the reddish mark on the surface of your skin. "What's this on your neck?" He asked, eyes squinting in confusion. Embarrassed, you explained the story of how you were in a rush and the little mishap you had with your lipstick. "You were putting on lipstick and it actually got on there?" He chuckled, feeling his face push further into your neck—luscious lips pressing against it.

A low chuckle rumbled in his chest—amused at your surprised expression, "Your neck is warmer now that I kissed you. You can't focus on anything, huh." His ministrations continued, lips trailing all over your neck, back arching into him more—goosebumps traveling across your skin. "S-Sylus," You whispered, breath coming out in soft pants—the warmth from his body heating you up. Removing his face from your neck, his crimson eyes peering at you, "Your body is getting hotter." Your mind was still a mess from his actions, eyes glaring at him—fingers pinching his cheek, "It's your fault!"

Smirking, he positioned his body on top of yours, removing your hand from his cheek and pushing it against the mattress, "Is this how you treat sick people, sweetie?" You tried to move, hoping to push him off of your body, yet it was futile, "I'm trying to take care of you yet your acting like a brat." His eyebrow lifted at your words, smirk remaining on his face as he lowered his head, nuzzling into your neck again— his lower body gently laying on top of you. "I'm only using you to calm down my fever. Quite a reasonable request I would say." His breath continued to tickle your neck, his hand letting go of the one he pinned—returning back to caress your waist and back.

He lifted his head again, gazing down at you, unamused, "You're not a very good ice pack. You've failed to cool me down and warmed me up instead." His position on top of you was making you more flustered, turning your head away to avoid his stare. Soft fingers went to your chin, turning you back to look at him, "What's wrong, kitten? Are you sick too? Your cheeks are quite red." His voice was low, raspy—causing your lower panties to get soaked. He still held your chin, eyes trailing you up and down,"Oh I see. I wasn't using you correctly. I should be sweating it out." He grinded into you, feeling his grown length rubbing against your intimate area—a moan leaving your lips.

"That makes you perfect for this," He said, licking his lips—his hands entering inside your shirt, massaging your breasts tenderly. Moans escaped your lips as he continued to squeeze your mounds, fingers pinching your nipples. "Very hot." Dazed, your eyes focused on him in confusion, a seductive smirk gracing his face upon seeing it. "Of course I'm taking about you," he purred, his tongue licking against your ear—marking it softly with his teeth. One of his hands traveled down lower, slipping inside your pants, rubbing against your skin, "There's sweat here.......and it's all wet." Shaking your head at his words, you told him he was lying.

"Oh, you don't think I am," he whispered. "I can prove it to you right here, right now." His husky voice flowed through you, back arching from the bed. Removing his hand from your pants, he extended it out, "Gimme your hand." Grasping your hand softly, he pulled it down with him, entering your pants and into your panties, feeling how wet your core was, dripping with anticipation. His fingers hooked inside along with yours, curling inside your inner walls—soft gasps leaving your mouth, "Ah! Sy-Sylus!" He licked his lips, entranced by how quickly you were falling into pleasure in front of him. "Don't be shy, sweetie." he purred. "When ice melts, it's natural to be wet.."

His fingers and yours continued to tease your sex, his nails flicking occasionally against your clit—toes curling at the sensation. Kisses softly landed on you, from your forehead, to your cheeks, your neck and then your lips. "You're not that good at getting rid of my fever," he groaned, thrusting his hips, wanting to get closer to you. "But, as they say, once should make the most out of everything. Only response you gave back to him was a series of moans, hand flying to his silver locks, gripping them tightly. He let out a grunt, lust-filled eyes staring into your very soul, his lips a few inches from yours, "So, before you have completely melted........I won't stop."

His lips parted yours, his tongue exploring the depths of your mouth, silencing your moans as his fingers sped up—wet sounds becoming louder and louder. Your wet-covered hand had left his, attaching to his back, deepening your kiss—his own lips curling into a smile. A third finger entered you, curling in and out and in and out, back arching off the bed. You felt it, you knew you were about to explode, turning to break the kiss. "AH! Sylus. Mmm...I'm gonna. He attacked your neck, hickeys appearing on your skin. "Go ahead, kitten. Come for me."

Curling your toes, body tensing, you climaxed—his fingers becoming drenched in your release. He removed his hand, bringing it to his lips to lick at your delicious nectar, "Mmm so sweet," he drawls, his voice coated in honey. The robe shrugged away from him, his toned body appearing in front of you, doused in sweat—he's so gorgeous you thought. Positioning between your legs, you felt his erection poking at your entrance, ready to penetrate you—a soft moan leaving your lips. "Are you ready, kitten," he questioned, his eyes growing soft, making sure you were alright with this. You nodded at him, which he responded with a smile—his body slowly moving forward, inserting himself inside you.

The both of you stayed stiff, the pleasurable sensation immobilizing your bodies. He was panting heavily, beads of sweat dripping from his head, landing on your body as he slowly moved, the friction intensifying. The ecstasy was driving you insane, legs wrapping around him tighter, hearing him let out a grunt as he sped up, "Huff, you're so tight, kitten." He moans heavily, placing his head against yours— his fever affecting him more and more. His cock kept hitting your g-spot, making you see stars as you loudly moaned his name, "Sy! M—More!" His hips sped up to alarming speeds, fulfilling your wish—stars forming in your vision, climax growing near. Nails scratched along his back, red lines forming—earning a grunt from his lips, "Almost there, sweetie."

With one last thrust, he came inside of you—with you following along with him, back arching of the bed from the orgasmic bliss. He collapsed on top of you, his heavy breaths hitting your neck—reaching your hand up to rub his hair and forehead, "Are you okay?" A mumble was spoken into your neck—he was physically exhausted from the sex, his sickness catching up with him. Moving him slowly, you placed his head against the pillow, getting up from the bed to get him and you cleaned up.

Leaving the bathroom wearing one of his long shirts, you headed back to Sylus with a glass of water, medicine, and a wet cloth. Turning him over, you cleaned the sweat on his body and face, as well as cleaning the mess on his lower regions. Once that was all set, you told him to sit up a bit, helping him since he had barely any energy to move. As he leaned against the headboard, you took one of the pills in your mouth, drinking some water, then placed your lips against his, helping him to swallow the medicine despite his prior distaste about the bitterness, but he needed to take something. Grabbing his robe, you placed his arms back into the sleeves, covering him back up, pushing him softly to lay on the pillow again. You soon joined him, turning on your side as you pulled him closer, cuddling him into your chest—earning a contented sigh from him, his arms wrapping around you, "Mmm...thank..you....kitten." Smiling, you hugged him tighter, as the exhaustion from the previous activities caught up with both the both of you, falling asleep in each others arms.

—END—

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thebarneschronicles · 5 months ago

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Navigating the Ordinary

(A Closer To Home Blurb)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Word Count: 1.4k

Synopsis: What starts as a lunch invitation quickly spirals into an unexpected errand to the local CVS, where playful banter about modern absurdities and a deep dive into his dating history lead to unexpected revelations. Between teasing smiles, lingering touches, and an embarrassing encounter in the Family Planning aisle, you realize that the quiet intimacy you share with him runs deeper than either of you might admit.

Trigger Warnings: Talks about contraception! Wrap it before you tap it, kids.

Author’s Note: Surprise surpriseeee... These two keep branching out like multiverse timelines in my head—every time I finish one story, another pops up, ready to be written. I’d love to hear your thoughts! Love, B xx

Closer To Home Masterlist

“What are the chances you’ll ditch your research for lunch with me?”

His voice cut through the haze of your thoughts, making your head snap up from the monitor you had been glaring at for the past ten minutes. You had been reading the same line over and over again until the words had lost all meaning, blending together in an incoherent mess.

You couldn’t think. You couldn’t sleep. You couldn’t breathe.

Because every waking moment was consumed by the man currently standing in your doorway, looking like stormy weather personified, all brooding intensity with a permanent frown carved between his brows. Though, if you were being honest, that frown hadn’t been quite so permanent lately. It was all anyone could talk about in the office—Bucky Barnes had been downright chatty, even (gasp) smiley at times. And all signs pointed to you.

Your relationship wasn’t exactly a secret, but lately, it had become impossible to ignore. Especially after he had shown up with flowers on the exact day of your big meeting—just because.

Ah, the joys of romance with a 1940s man. He put any modern millennial to shame.

“Are you buying?” you asked, grinning as you pushed back from your desk, giddy excitement bubbling up despite your best efforts to suppress it.

“As long as I get to pick the place,” he shot back, smirking as you stood up and stepped closer. He didn’t resist when you stretched onto your toes to kiss him, his hand automatically settling at your waist.

“Just don’t take me to that Asian place and you’re golden,” you murmured, scratching lightly against the stubble on his jaw.

Bucky frowned. “What’s wrong with the Asian place?”

You arched a brow, deadpan. “The fact that you dated their waitress.”

He pulled back slightly, scoffing. “It was one date!”

“One date too many.” You grabbed your coat and purse before brushing past him with a smug grin. “Let’s go, Sergeant.”

Your acceptance of his invitation hadn’t been entirely selfless. After a satisfying meal, you had successfully maneuvered Bucky into a CVS down the block, iced coffee in hand (he was still horrified by the sheer concept of cold brew) and a mental checklist of essentials to grab.

He trailed behind you with the wary expression of a man trained to recognize enemy ambushes, his sharp eyes darting around as though danger lurked behind the towering shelves of discount shampoo. You led him with purpose, your destination clear: the Family Planning aisle.

Rows upon rows of colorful boxes greeted you, a dazzling spectrum of choices labeled with enticing phrases: glow-in-the-dark, flavored, ribbed for her pleasure, lubricated, thin, ultra-thin, XXL—

Bucky, standing beside you with his arms crossed over his chest, let out a quiet, suffering sigh. “You’re overthinking this.” His voice was low and rough, but there was unmistakable amusement there.

“I’m not overthinking,” you argued, reaching for one box, then hesitating and grabbing another. “I just want to make sure we get the right ones.”

“They’re condoms, not a major life decision.”

You shot him a pointed look. “Well, considering they’re for your life decisions, I’d say it’s pretty important. And excuse me for wanting to make informed choices about our health.”

Bucky blinked, then huffed a soft laugh, his lips quirking into a smirk. “Our health, huh? Pretty sure you just like torturing me.”

You grinned. “What do you think?” You held up a neon green box. “Want a glow stick in your pants?”

He groaned, rubbing a hand down his face before snatching the nearest box—ultra-thin, large—and tossing it into the basket he was dutifully carrying.

You peered inside, nodding approvingly. “Satisfied?”

“Never,” he quipped, the grin still firmly in place.

Shaking your head, you stepped closer, curiosity getting the better of you. “So, while we’re on the topic of your charming personality… I’ve been meaning to ask.”

“Uh-oh,” Bucky said immediately, the grin faltering just slightly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You couldn’t hold the smile, eyes scanning his front in a cursory look. “What is it?” He pressed, hesitant.

“Nothing, just—"

“God, I can see the wheels turning in your head.” He shook his head, looking up at the ceiling as if it, somehow, would hold the secrets of the universe.

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” you started again. “What was dating like for you back in the ’40s? You know, before all the… world-saving and cryo-freezing?”

Bucky tilted his head, clearly amused by the question. “Is that it?”

“Just answer the question, Bucky.”

He frowned, but it wasn’t the haunted expression he used to wear when his past was brought up. It was softer now, more contemplative. His gaze flickered downward to his vibranium hand, where his fingers absently traced the ridges in the metal resting on the basket handle. The harsh grocery store lighting made it gleam, but he barely seemed to notice.

“I mean,” you pressed, trying to keep the mood light, “You had to have been a heartbreaker back then. Tall, handsome, that Brooklyn charm—you’re telling me girls weren’t falling all over themselves for you?”

He huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. “You’re giving me too much credit.”

“Oh, come on,” you said, leaning closer with a teasing grin. “You’re telling me you didn’t leave a trail of broken hearts across Brooklyn? I mean, don’t tell me there isn’t a little love child of yours lost somewhere around Europe, a little souvenir from your Howling Commandos days.”

Bucky stopped for half a second, then gave you a deadpan look. “Nope. Pretty sure that’s impossible.”

“Impossible?” you repeated, raising an eyebrow. “You’re telling me a guy who looked like you, traveling across Europe while fighting Nazis, didn’t get some? Not even once?”

He shrugged, entirely too casual. “Ever heard of abstinence?”

You stared at him, blinking in disbelief. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope.”

“How?”

He turned to you then, giving you a pointed look that was somehow both amused and mildly annoyed, like he was waiting for you to connect the dots.

“Oh,” you said after a moment, realization dawning. “Wait. Really?”

Bucky sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Look, it’s not like I didn’t have opportunities…” He glanced at you, expression somewhere between sheepish and apologetic, as if he expected you to be upset about women he never actually slept with seventy years ago. What he didn’t know was that, despite the utter irrationality of it, there was a tiny, annoying tug of jealousy.

“But… things were complicated. Steve and I had our priorities. Girls weren’t exactly top of the list.”

You snorted. “Listen, Steve, I get. Big ol’ virgin. But you?”

“Yeah, thanks for that,” Bucky said dryly.

“What?” you said with an innocent shrug. “I’m just saying, it’s hard to believe. I mean, sure, Steve had the whole ‘Captain America’ schtick, but you had the looks, the charm, the whole mysterious bad boy thing going on. You’re telling me girls weren’t lining up for a chance with Sergeant Barnes?”

“Guess they were more into stars and stripes than his Brooklyn buddy,” Bucky said, his tone light, but there was something underneath it you couldn’t quite place.

“They just didn’t know better,” you offered, leaning closer and bumping your shoulder against his.

He gave you a sidelong glance, lips twitching into a small smile. “Yeah, well. Their loss.”

The moment stretched between you, warm and lingering. His fingers tapped absently against the basket handle, and you could see the way he was studying you out of the corner of his eye—like he was still getting used to the way you looked at him, the way you were here, teasing him about something as simple as old dating habits instead of pushing him to talk about war and loss.

Before you could respond, an elderly woman shuffled past with her cart, her gaze flicking pointedly to the box of condoms in your basket before giving you both a knowing look.

You bit the inside of your cheek, fighting a laugh as Bucky immediately turned away, clearing his throat and pretending to examine a display of toothpaste with sudden, intense focus.

“You okay there, Sergeant?” you teased, sidling up to his side and resting your chin on his arm.

“I’m fine,” he muttered, his ears turning faintly pink.

“You sure? You’re looking a little flustered.”

He turned back to you then, slipping an arm over your shoulders and narrowing his eyes, but the corners of his mouth betrayed him, twitching upward in a reluctant smile. “You’re a menace.”

“And yet, here you are,” you mumbled, pressing a kiss to his lips.

His grip tightened around you, hand curling over the back of your neck as he pulled you in closer. He kissed your temple, lips lingering there as he exhaled slowly, like he was breathing you in, like he was grounding himself in the feeling of you.

“Yeah,” he murmured, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Here I am.”

#bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky x reader smut #bucky fanfic #sebastian stan #marvel fanfiction #marvel fan fiction #marvel fanfic #sebastian stan fanfiction

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incloudcity · 29 days ago

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in the rain | lh43

requests are open

summary: luke surprises you with a cozy anniversary camping trip that turns unexpectedly magical when the rain rolls in.

You had a feeling Luke was up to something the second he told you to “pack comfy clothes, but not like too comfy, because you’ll still want to look cute.” Which, knowing Luke, could mean anything from dinner at a quiet restaurant to a spontaneous road trip into the woods. He was always full of surprises—your favorite kind of chaos.

He wouldn't tell you where you were going. Just grinned that annoyingly adorable grin and threw your weekend bag into the back of his car.

After about two hours of winding through tree-lined roads and humming along to your shared playlist, Luke finally pulled off onto a gravel path that led to a clearing tucked deep in the woods. A little lake shimmered through the trees, and a perfectly pitched tent sat near the water’s edge. Soft fairy lights were strung between two trees, glowing even though the sun was still hanging low in the sky.

“Luke…” you breathed, stepping out of the car and spinning slowly to take it all in.

He was already pulling your backpack from the trunk, looking overly proud of himself. “Happy anniversary, babe.”

Your heart felt like it grew three sizes.

“You did all this?”

“Yup. Even drove out two days ago to set everything up,” he said casually, then added with a sheepish smile, “Took me three tries to get the tent right, but don’t worry, it won’t fall over in the middle of the night. Probably.”

You couldn’t help it—you threw your arms around him and tackled him in a hug, nearly knocking him over. “This is perfect. You’re perfect.”

He held you there for a moment, swaying slightly. “You deserve perfect.”

You spent the afternoon sprawled out on the picnic blanket he’d laid out. You roasted marshmallows over the small firepit he built (“I Googled it. I’m basically a wilderness expert now.”), ate your favorite snacks, played cards, and lazily skipped rocks on the lake. Luke was completely in his element—laughing, teasing you, gently brushing your hair behind your ear whenever it got in your eyes.

As the sun started to dip lower, casting the lake in warm gold, you leaned against him and sighed contentedly. “This is the best anniversary I’ve ever had.”

“That was the plan.”

But as the sky began to turn a little pink, a cool wind started to roll in. You glanced up at the clouds now gathering above the trees, their fluffy edges darkening with an ominous gray hue.

“You don’t think it’s gonna rain, do you?” you asked.

“I checked the forecast—it said maybe light showers,” Luke said confidently. You raised an eyebrow.

Not five minutes later, the first drop hit your nose.

Luke stared up at the sky. “Okay, in my defense, weather apps lie.”

You both scrambled to grab what you could, tossing the rest of the snacks into the cooler and zipping up the tent. By the time everything was secured, a gentle drizzle was falling steadily through the trees.

You stood just under the tree line, hair damp, watching the raindrops ripple across the lake’s surface. Despite the rain, the air felt soft and quiet. The earthy smell of pine and rain surrounded you, and even though your hoodie was getting soaked, you found yourself smiling.

Luke came up behind you, arms sneaking around your waist. “Sorry about the weather. This wasn’t exactly part of the plan.”

You leaned your head back on his shoulder. “It’s okay. This is still kind of romantic.”

“You think so?”

You turned to face him, reaching up to push his wet curls out of his face. “Yeah. It’s like a movie scene. Except I’m freezing, and you look like a wet puppy.”

Luke made a dramatic gasp. “Excuse me, I am at least a handsome wet puppy.”

You laughed, and then, without warning, he tugged you gently by the hands into the clearing, where the rain was falling a little harder now.

“Luke!” you squealed, trying to resist, but your giggles gave you away.

“Dance with me,” he said, his voice soft but earnest, eyes crinkled in that way that made your heart do somersaults.

“There’s no music,” you whispered, breathless as he twirled you clumsily in the wet grass.

“There’s rain,” he replied simply.

And with that, you let go of everything—your hesitation, the cold, the fact that your socks were probably ruined. Luke swayed with you slowly, both of you dripping, laughing when one of you stepped wrong or slipped in the mud. It was ridiculous. It was messy.

It was perfect.

He pulled you closer, rain slipping down the curve of his jaw as he pressed his forehead against yours. “I love you,” he said, like it was the easiest thing in the world.

“I love you more,” you whispered, wrapping your arms tighter around his neck.

“Impossible,” he murmured, right before leaning in and kissing you.

The kiss was warm despite the chill in the air, slow and unhurried, like you had all the time in the world. The kind of kiss that made your toes curl and your heart feel a little too big for your chest.

When you finally pulled away, both of you laughing again, Luke looked at you like you’d hung the stars just for him.

“Even if everything else today had gone wrong,” he said, brushing your damp hair away from your face, “this moment would’ve made it all worth it.”

You smiled, cheeks pink and heart full. “You’re such a sap.”

“For you? Always.”

Eventually, you both stumbled back to the tent, soaked to the bone but buzzing with happiness. Luke handed you a hoodie that was at least two sizes too big and wrapped you in a blanket while you curled up together inside, listening to the rain tap gently on the tent’s roof.

Outside, the world kept raining. But inside, all you could feel was warmth.

#nhl x reader #luke hughes x reader #new jersey devils x reader

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beeseverywhen · 3 months ago

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The recent bathroom investigation has brought up some interesting points, so, some information on toilets in working class homes in the uk:

bathrooms being in working class houses is a relatively new thing in the uk (last century in new builds but took a long time for older buildings to catch up) and when it began, as to be expected, it happened in stages. you can generally see evidence of this when you go in older houses and you can kind of see in a lot of them how they would have been built.

(there are some differences in england and wales vs scotland but more on that later)

ok so in cities in the 19th century the common situation was back to back houses (generally terraced houses in england and blocks of flats in scotland) with courtyards in the middle of 2. the courtyards would have a toilet some distance from the back door (because of smell and vermin ect) shared by all the households. there was a move in the 19th century for every court to have its own water pump for use by the households there (previously there would have been water pumps at the ends of streets ect)

an interesting difference between england and scotland is that scottish working class housing tended to have kitchens in the flats, whereas it took longer for this to happen in england with sculleries being shared for much longer. this makes perfect sense when you consider the weather. having a more open plan living space with your own range was a great way of staying warm, a lot of scottish tenements had built in beds in the shared kitchen/living room

as sewage disposal systems improved toilets could be closer to living spaces. new builds at this time began to have toilets joined on to the home though the door would still be outside. all the same, going out the backdoor to a door on the same wall was much nicer in the cold of night than to the end of a courtyard. in tenement buildings we began to see toilets being added at the end of halls, often you'd have 1 shared toilet between 2 floors.

now this change is recent enough that you can still find evidence of it. eventually it began to be expected that every family home should have its own conveniences. starting with sculleries and taps in most homes. then to every home having its own range and cooking happening inside the home. the sculleries moved closer to what we'd recognize as a kitchen now, and in new builds, bathrooms began moving their way indoors. at first, this was with fixed bathtubs (rather than the tin baths that had been common, as well as visiting public bathhouses) and at first they were often in sculleries rather than in a separate bathroom.

eventually there was a move towards actual bathrooms, though the toilets remained in a separate room at first. there was some resistance to having the toilet door inside the home at first by some people as they had been used to having the toilet away from the living space for cleanliness sake (not to mention, it was cheaper to build this way) and this led to a few experiments with some bizare setups for toilets

so this is an example from the mile cross estate. a door has been added but originally this would have been ourdoors. however, theyve set the doors at an angle and put a porch between them. the toilet is outside of the house but its not fully outdoors

of course this didnt wind up being the way forward and most of these attached toilets have since been converted so they can be accessed from the inside.

whats interesting is, while inside bathrooms were being included in newbuilds in the 50s, and expectations changed so most older houses were converted in the years after. not all were.

there were still houses with 'down the bottom of the garden' toilets in the 80s (my dad lived in one) though they were few and far between by then. in my childhood, it wasnt uncommon for outdoor toilets attached to the house where you had to go out the backdoor to use them, to still exist, but they tended to be in addition to a full bathroom inside the house (usually awkwardly placed in a too small attic room, or on a diagonal, or downstairs in what once was a parlour.

which brings us on to yesterdays flat:

in 1961 7% of houses in england and wales still had no toilet inside or attatched to (and accessed from outdoors) their home

in scotland 9 years later, a quarter of people were still sharing a toilet outside their home

this campaign kickstarted conversions in tenements so they all included toilets. thats why these flats without them are so uncommon now. but as in the article above about pat from the mile end estate, tenants were perfectly entitled to decline renovations. of course, most wouldnt have. but for those who didnt particularly want the hassle of renovations, didnt want to give up space in their homes, and were happy carrying on as before, well. the roll out of bathrooms in every other tenement would only have made this easier. the shared toilet was only being shared by them now.

later on, it would become mandatory for all homes to have toilets, and so when faced with a longstanding tenant in a flat with no toilet, who has been the sole user of the shared toilet for the past decade, its likely easy to tick the box of 'yes the home has a toilet' by just adding the communal toilet on to the deeds.

not to say it wouldnt cause complications: that flat was unmortgagable and this is likely a big reason why. a property without clear property boundaries causes issues from a liability perspective. its difficult to insure and a lot of mortgage companies wont want to take on that risk

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cardansriddle · 2 years ago

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Sugar - (tom riddle x fem!muggle!reader)

Summary: Perhaps it was an accident. Or perhaps the fates were mocking him. He had not meant to venture into the little coffee shop and he had most definitely not meant to return. But he kept coming back and the waitress kept putting sugar packets near his coffee every damn time.

Warnings: Tom gets possessive halfway through so it's pretty tame for him. not proofread. oh also self-indulgent crime & punishment debate (got a lil carried away).

A/N: 5.5k words but it's kinda mehh. to the person who requested this, i hope you enjoy it at least a little <3

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆

Tom felt as if he was a solitary figure in a world hushed by the winter's harsh embrace. With each step he took away from the desolate building of grey against the pristine canvas of winter, he felt lighter. He did not cast a look back towards the orphanage looming behind him, instead focused on the sound of the snow crunching beneath his feet as they led him further into the dark street cloaked in a thick layer of snow.

The wizard knew if he spent another moment in that cursed place he would have lashed out and killed someone, so he had hastily thrown his coat and emerald scarf around himself before slamming the door shut behind him.

Two more years. He thought to himself. Then he would be out and would never be obligated to return again. Perhaps he would even burn the place to the ground if his plans worked out in his favour.

The air was crisp, and his breath materialized in front of him with each exhale. His eyes quickly scanned the narrow empty alley for a suitable quiet place where he could pass his time. There was nothing interesting, except for the tiny bookstore nestled in the corner of the street that emitted a warm, golden light through its window. Tom quickly decided it would do, and he strode towards the place with purpose. A small bell chimed as he entered the place, which he quickly realised was a bookstore with a cosy coffee shop tucked inside.

He inhaled the pleasant aroma of freshly brewed coffee mixed with the scent of weathered books. Before he could lose himself entirely in the intoxicating symphony of scents, a sudden, loud thud echoed from behind the counter, jolting him from his reverie.

"Blimey!" someone cursed, their voice slicing through the tranquillity. Tom found himself rooted to the spot, curiosity piqued, as a figure suddenly emerged from underneath the counter.

It was a girl. Unabashedly, his eyes traced the lines of her features, noting the delicate curve of her jaw and the cascade of hair that framed her face. He assumed she was around his age if not younger and he stared at the girl as she rubbed her head, wincing when she hit a particularly soft spot before she realised that she was not alone in the shop. She froze like a deer caught in the headlights and he watched as her cheeks flushed a deep shade of red.

Tom, still an observer, saw more than just the blush; he discerned the subtleties of her response, the way her eyes momentarily widened before seeking refuge elsewhere, fingers fidgeting with the edges of her knitted cardigan.

She attempted to compose herself and met his eyes. "Oh! Sorry, sir. How may I assist you?" She asked cheerfully, resisting the urge to duck her head down to avoid his intense stare.

He crossed the small distance to the counter. "I'd like a coffee. Black."

"No sugar?" she inquired, to which Tom raised a single brow. Her blush deepened as she quickly averted her eyes from his face.

"Right, of course. You may take a seat while I prepare this for you." With a nod, she hurried to fulfil his request, leaving Tom alone with the lingering scent of coffee and old books that were now intertwined with a pleasant smell of vanilla and sweet—

It was her perfume, he realised with a start.

He hastily removed his coat and scarf before plopping down on the nearest armchair. His gaze remained fixed on the girl, absorbed in the rhythm of her practised motions as she prepared his drink, her movements seemingly both effortless and comforting. There was an almost lazy grace to her actions and he continued to watch as she sang under her breath so softly if he had not been staring so intensely, he would not have picked up on it.

He wondered how he had never noticed this place before. He had been passing through this little street for as long as he could remember but for some reason, he had only stumbled upon it today. His sharp eyes darted around, instinctively searching for traces of magic, half-expecting the discovery of a hidden passage to the wizarding world but he quickly realised the place was undeniably, disappointingly muggle.

Muggle.

He tore his gaze away from the girl at the mental reminder of what she was. He fished out a book from his bag and opened it to occupy his mind.

The subtle shuffle of her approaching steps drew his attention back to the present, and he met her gaze as she placed the steaming cup of coffee before him. A sugar packet sat innocently beside it. His eyes lingered on the packet for a moment before lifting coldly to meet hers.

She, however, was undeterred by the intensity of his glare. “In case you change your mind.” She smiled at him softly before turning on her heel and walking back.

His gaze lingered on her retreating figure, and then, almost involuntarily, it dropped to the innocuous sugar packet.

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆

Tom did not know why he had returned. Truthfully, he had not even noticed his feet had led him here until he was in front of the familiar wooden door that led into the coffee shop. Perhaps he had thought more than he should’ve about the disgustingly soft smile of that girl for the last five months. She was an insolent muggle, yet here he was, walking into the place as if he had never left.

The seasons had blurred since he had last been here. Winter had long surrendered to the warmth of summer. He had to spend at least a month in the orphanage, and he was hoping Malfoy would invite him over for the rest of the summer.

The place was just as he remembered it. The only difference was the lack of Christmas decorations. He faltered only slightly when he took notice of the girl behind the counter, already staring at him. She had not changed much. Her face was the same, less pale perhaps, but the same, nonetheless. The oversized knitted sweater that once enveloped her had been replaced by a little white sundress, and his gaze involuntarily lingered on the exposed smooth skin.

“Welcome back!” She greeted him cheerfully, and he was not surprised she remembered him. “What can I get you?”

“Black coffee,” he replied curtly

She nodded as if she was expecting it. "Coming right up." Gently shutting her book, she gracefully moved towards the coffee machine. Tom's eyes couldn't help but trail to the volume she had been reading, and to his pleasant surprise, it was Dostoyevsky. He had not pegged her as someone who would enjoy Russian literature, with its weighty and morally morbid themes. In his mind, she seemed more likely to be a Jane Austen enthusiast, with her intricately written romances and flowery prose.

“It’s 'Crime and Punishment'." He suddenly heard her soft voice declare, and he looked away from the book to give his attention to the girl. Then feeling as if she had said something silly, she blushed and looked away quickly. "Though I'm sure you figured that. I just wondered why you look so surprised."

He replied before he could tell himself not to. "I did not imagine you as someone who would enjoy this."

Emboldened at his words, she turned to face him, a hand casually resting on her hip as she sported a cheeky smile. "Am I to presume you imagine me often?"

His sharp inhale was audible as he absorbed the unexpected shift in her demeanour. He had not expected this shy, timid girl to tease him so boldly. She was a little vixen.

But he did not give her the satisfaction of getting a reaction out of him. A lazy raise of his brow was the extent of his acknowledgement before his gaze wandered towards the rows of bookshelves, feigning indifference. "Do you have another copy? Perhaps I shall like to reread this evening."

She frowned, walking over towards the table he had occupied last time to set his coffee down. He grimly took notice of the sugar packet placed near it. "I'm afraid not. But you can have mine."

"No, that is quite alri—" He began to decline but she had already crossed the small distance between them and was holding out the thick book. He hesitated for a moment before his fingers closed around the object, careful to avoid touching hers.

The girl smiled and walked away before he could even say thanks. Not like he was going to.

Settling back into the soft armchair, he opened the book only to freeze at the sight of a name scribbled on the front page and he knew it belonged to her. The wizard rolled the name around in his mind and determined that it suited her. He stared at her name for a minute longer before turning the page and delving into the content of the book.

He had been so immersed in the story that he had not noticed how the time had passed. The gradual hush of the coffee shop's ambient sounds finally penetrated his concentration, and he distinctly heard the girl approaching him.

"I'm sorry to disturb you but we're closing in five minutes." She looked at the book in his hands. "You may return it once you're done."

He hummed and looked down at where he had stopped.

"We sometimes encounter people, even perfect strangers, who begin to interest us at first sight, somehow suddenly, all at once, before a word has been spoken."

He wondered if the universe was trying to tell him something.

Tom found himself caught in the silent narrative of this stranger's presence.

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆

He returned the next day.

She looked up to see him enter, the sleeves of his button-up shirt rolled up.

Tom placed the book on the counter.

"You finished it in one day?"

He shrugged. "I'm a fast reader."

She gave him a small smile, turning to make his black coffee before he could ask for it. "Every time I reread it it takes me a few days." She paused for a moment, turning to look at him over her shoulder. "The usual?"

He nodded. "The usual." He debated whether or not to voice his next question, and decided one conversation with the girl would not hurt.

"Why do you read it so often?"

"Each time I find new details that make Raskolnikov's character more complex. Each time I discover these small little things I missed the last time I read it becomes so much better. Plus I enjoy his moral dilemma."

He hummed, his curiosity piqued. He took his usual seat and watched as she brought his coffee and set it down in front of him. "Enlighten me." He gestured towards the seat in front of him. She hesitated only for a second before taking a seat.

"Raskolnikov is obviously a complex character. His actions are driven by a desire for power and superiority, a belief that he is exempt from conventional morality. However, one could argue that his internal struggles and eventual remorse suggest a more nuanced exploration of morality."

Tom furrowed his brows. "I see him as a product of his environment, a desperate man driven to extremes by the harsh circumstances he faced. His morality shifts to the other side of the spectrum."

She cocked her head to the side, and he could see her getting slightly frustrated. "But morality is not just a spectrum; it's a complex interplay of values, societal norms, and personal convictions. Raskolnikov's guilt stems from the clash between his actions and the intrinsic moral compass within him. It's the consequence of recognizing the weight of one's choices."

He scoffed before he could stop himself. "Morality is subjective. What is right for one may not be right for another. Raskolnikov was weak and he was an idiot. Guilt is a useless emotion and it is for the weak."

Her expression remained unwavering. "But perhaps it's that recognition of guilt that separates the morally discerning from those who lack empathy. The fact that you can't comprehend his guilt doesn't make it foolish. It makes it human."

Tom's eyes narrowed a glint of impatience in his gaze. "Human or not, guilt is a hindrance. It's a sentiment for those too feeble to rise above their actions. If I were to make a difficult choice, I would do it without hesitation, without remorse."

He only realised the slip of his tongue after the words left his mouth. He stilled, gauging her reaction yet her response was measured but firm. "Raskolnikov's guilt is a testament to his humanity, his ability to grapple with the consequences of his choices. It's what sets him apart from those who operate without remorse."

"But—"

"So what you're saying is you would kill and feel no remorse?" She cut him off.

Yes.

"You do not understand." He did not intend his tone to be so harsh, yet the words left his mouth coldly. She visibly withdrew and nodded stiffly. "Right. Enjoy your coffee."

He opened his mouth to say something but realised for the first time in his life he did not know what to say.

He was left staring at the cursed sugar packet she had left near his coffee again.

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆

He did not return the next day. Nor the day after. Or after.

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆

Two weeks passed with no sign of him.

And then she saw him step into the coffee shop. He walked in with determination. He walked up to the counter, meeting her gaze with an intensity that mirrored the unspoken tension between them. "I'd like a black coffee," he said, his tone even, though a hint of something lingered beneath the surface.

She nodded, her expression composed but guarded. As she prepared the coffee, the air seemed charged with unspoken words. Her usual cheerful smile was notably absent. The absence struck him, and he realised he had enjoyed her smiles.

When she placed the coffee in front of him, there was a palpable pause. He glanced at the sugar packet, a subtle acknowledgement of the lingering disagreement. Without a word, he took it, his eyes meeting hers briefly before he poured the sugar into his coffee.

She looked at him, her gaze unwavering, before a small, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corner of her lips.

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆

He returned the next day. And the day after that. And for the rest of summer.

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆

The next time he stepped into the familiar place, winter had covered the city with a snowy blanket once again. It had been a year since he first discovered this little place. And he had not seen his little waiter since he left for Hogwarts in September.

When he walked in, her eyes lit up visibly. "Hi!" She waved at him with a bright grin.

"Hello." He greeted as he unwrapped his scarf and settled in his usual seat. In a matter of minutes, she was bringing him his usual order. She was back to wearing her warm knitted sweaters. "How did you enjoy the book?"

"Oscar Wilde never disappoints," he said. She hummed in agreement, pleased at his words. He watched as her hands dropped to fidget with the bottom of her sweater. "You wish to ask me something." He stated. "Ask."

"Do you study in a boarding school?"

Tom hesitated only for a moment before replying. "Yes."

"Oh. Well, that explains the months of not showing up."

"Were you expecting me?" He teased her with an amused smirk, taking delight in the way her cheeks reddened.

"I was just wondering that is all," she admitted, a hint of curiosity peeking through. Tom observed her, noting the return of the timid, shy girl from their first encounter. It amused him how a few teasing remarks could momentarily whisk away her fiery boldness. He couldn't help but wonder what it would take to awaken it once again.

"And do you wonder about me often, little vixen?" he added, a playful glint in his eyes.

She blushed harder at the nickname but then as if a thought had struck her, she straightened and Tom watched as she visibly mustered up her courage. "I actually was wondering your name."

He bristled, but she must have not noticed because she continued. "I suppose I have not given you mine either." She mused out loud and announced her name to him. "But I thought it bizarre that considering all the time we've talked we never got around to that. Friends who do not each other's names." The girl laughed at the last notion and only then she realised that Tom had remained unnervingly quiet throughout the exchange. She raised her eyes from the frayed edges of her sweater, and the sight almost made her take a step back. His eyes had darkened, and she could have sworn she saw them flash red. There was no warmth, no familiarity in his gaze.

"Are you alright?"

Suddenly, he rose from his seat, an ominous tension permeating the air as he advanced towards her with every word. "We are not friends. You dare to think I would be friends with the likes of you?" His words were sharper than the keenest of blades, cutting into her with merciless precision. "Foolish, little girl," He spat out before grabbing his things and storming out of the place. As the door closed behind him, the little coffee shop seemed to exhale, the echoes of his harsh words lingering in the hushed aftermath.

She stood frozen in her place, helpless against the storm of emotions and the tears that began to veil her vision.

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆

Tom fumed for months after their last encounter. How dare the ignorant muggle insinuate that they were friends? He scarcely considered his Knights of Walpurgis as his friends, and she thought she would just appoint herself the title? Who did she think she was?

"Mate, you alright? You've been unresponsive for a while." Malfoy nudged him slightly, attempting to draw his attention back to the present.

Tom made a noise of acknowledgement before mentally shaking the image of his little waiter— no, not his, he berated himself— from his mind.

But no matter how he tried, he could not. He could not just banish her from his thoughts. He knew a part of him, a rather embarrassingly large part of him enjoyed her company, her passion, her conversations— just her.

And there, tucked away in the recesses of his trunk, lay her damned book— a taunting reminder of her. The temptation to burn it, to obliterate any remnants of her from his life, danced on the edge of his thoughts. He had shoved away, out of sight if only just to save himself the fury, the anger, (the longing).

He wondered if she was going through the same turmoil as him. He hoped she was. She had no right to make him feel this way and get away with it unscathed.

But she was too enticing to give up. He did not know what it was about her. She was a muggle, an ordinary, plain girl working at a forgotten little cafe. Sure, she liked books, but so did a lot of other people. Yes, she was pretty, but so were a lot of other girls. But none could even come close to stirring his emotions as she did.

Perhaps it was the ease with which she conversed with him. Or the entirely too cheery smiles. Or her endearing knitted sweaters— though he secretly favoured the sundresses.

He, of course, knew what it was. He had tried to deny the idea to himself, but there was no escaping it. Tom had never been able to be unequivocally authentic with another individual before. From his early childhood, he refused to allow anyone close to him. He never lowered his walls and rejected anything that would yield a genuine connection. It was refreshing with her. He had no cause to uphold a curated facade.

Had she not been a muggle, he would entertain the thought of her bewitching him. He would have been convinced the girl put some spell on him or slipped a potion into his drink.

It was maddening.

She was maddening.

He sighed upon realising that he had spiralled again thinking of her. He needed to return the book, and maybe that would ease his mind. Perhaps once he was rid of her possession, she would not haunt him anymore. (Though he knew he was only trying to reassure himself with the last thought.)

As summer loomed around the corner, it felt both too distant and too imminent, mirroring the paradox of his tangled emotions.

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆

The sound of her laugh rang out before he could even close the door behind him. His head snapped up so fast it was a wonder he did not get whiplash. But there she was, his little waiter, chuckling delightfully as some boy spoke lowly from behind the counter. Chuckles escaped her lips, and she bit down on her lip in a futile attempt to stifle the laughter, her hands deftly at work preparing a drink. Despite her efforts, laughter bubbled forth once more, forcing her to set the cup down to avoid any potential spills.

An immediate surge of anger coursed through him. Who was this boy? What business did have with her? What right did he have to elicit such genuine laughter from her? (Most importantly, how dare she replace him?)

Tom swallowed the lump in his throat, attempting to gather himself into some semblance of a composed, unaffected man that he most definitely was not at that moment. With a loud, purposeful cough, he sought to catch her attention.

She spun around, the practised smile reserved for customers settling onto her face as she readied herself to serve him. However, the smile swiftly vanished the moment her doe-like eyes locked onto him. She looked like a deer caught in headlights as she stared at him, wide eyes roving over his face as if to confirm that he was really standing there, in front of her, and was not a figment of her imagination.

Because despite their last encounter, despite the anger, and the hurt she had felt, she kept hoping he would return. She kept imagining him standing there, with his ridiculously fancy scarf as he spewed out an apology. She had delved so deep into her fantasies involving him that now that he was actually there, she did not what to do or to say. Her tongue was tied, and her brain was fogged. What was she supposed to say?

It seemed he decided to grant her mercy and be the first to break the tense silence.

“Hello.”

“Hi.”

He shuffled closer, though his steps were unsure, unlike his usual confident strides that she was used to seeing. “I wished to return your book.” He declared yet made no move to reach into his bag for the said book. He allowed his eyes to drink in the sight of her, her eyes that always seemed to glisten, her hands that were always fidgeting, her little sundress that he was afraid would drive him to insanity, (and her lips that he wished he could press against his own just so he could find out what they felt like, tasted like.) He shoved the last one into a drawer in his mind and locked it away. He could not fantasise about her. She was a muggle. He could not stoop so low as to hold affections for a muggle girl.

“Did you enjoy it?” The girl asked tentatively as if afraid one wrong word would set him off, have him spitting more harsh words that would dig deep into her skin and remain there.

“As always.” He replied. Because every book she gave him held another meaning. She was a clever girl, choosing the ones that she knew would have him coming back with a strong debate prepared in his mind. They always seemed to stand on opposite sides of every argument that the books posed, ensuring that their discussion would get heated, exciting, and thrilling.

While Tom vehemently disagreed with her views, he found pleasure in the way her mind worked. He admired her quick-wittedness, her ability to counter every argument he posed. No one else had engaged him in such stimulating conversations. She was a breath of fresh air, a captivating force he wanted to inhale and never release. He yearned to suffocate in the essence of her being, to be consumed and to consume in return. He wanted to own her— that irrational desire to keep her for himself was always there in the deeper parts of his mind that he was scared to venture into.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it.” She responded but he could detect the subtle undercurrent of uncertainty in her voice.

He hesitated. “May I have one black coffee?” He was extending an olive branch, and while it was not an outright apology, coming from Tom, it was a whole declaration.

“It’s five minutes until closing time.”

She would not be swayed so easily then.

Fine. Tom thought. He would make her come to her senses.

The boy who he had forgotten was still there suddenly came to stand next to him. Tom eyed him with disdain, his features curling into an unimpressed sneer, raising a lazy brow.

“I’ll help her close up, mate. You can leave now.”

“Daniel, that is not necessary.” She muttered, glancing between the two men nervously. Daniel? Tom clenched his jaw, enraged. In his absence, it seemed she had gotten on first-name basis with a boy. His mouth soured with the taste of betrayal at her blatant ignorance. How could she discard him so easily? Had she not suffered all these months at the mere thought of him? Had he been alone in his suffering?

“No,” Tom stated flatly. “You will leave.” He told the boy then turned to face his waiter. “We will talk.”

“I do not think—”

He cut her off with a hiss. “It was not a request.”

Daniel seemed wholly displeased. He opened his mouth to argue, but his girl beat him to it. “It’s okay, Daniel. I will see you some other time.”

“Whatever he has to tell you, surely he can say in front of me.”

She shook her head gently, trying to dissuade him. “It’s a matter between him and I. I would rather talk privately.”

Tom looked smug as he faced Daniel again, struggling to contain his smirk. He could see the indignation clear on the boy’s face as his eyes flickered dubiously between her and Tom. He knew the wizard was no ordinary acquaintance of her, he could feel the palpable tension in the air like a wolf.

Tom, of course, wished to push his buttons further, just to have the last word. “You heard her. Leave.”

Daniel scoffed. “I will see you tomorrow then.” He muttered and with one last long look, he squared his shoulders and left the café with as much dignity as his wounded pride could muster.

As the door shut with a final thud, they were left in pregnant silence, both unsure of the dynamics at play between them. The air in the café hung heavy with unspoken tension as if the silence itself had taken on a weight, pressing down on them both. The ticking of the clock on the wall seemed louder than usual, each second echoing in the quiet space.

She was the first to cave. "Well? You wished to talk." Gesturing towards him with a hand expectantly. "Talk."

Tom inhaled sharply, and for the first time in his life, he did not quite know what to say. How to proceed.

"Who is he?" The question tumbled from his lips before he could stop it.

She raised a brow. "Seriously? After how you walked out of here last time I would think your choice of words would be different."

"Different? I hardly think the question was unfair."

She huffed impatiently, discarding her apron as she turned from him to put everything away for the night. "Of course. How foolish of me to assume that you have no business inquiring about my life when we are not even friends." She chuckled bitterly. "You made the notion quite appalling if memory serves me right. You wish to know who is Daniel? For all you know, he could be my fiancee. Would it matter? No. Because you and I are hardly acquaintances."

An unfamiliar feeling began coiling in the pit of his stomach, and he suddenly felt sick. She briefly turned to fix him with a pointed glare and froze at the look on his face. The dancing flames of the candles seemed to mirror the flickering emotions in Tom's eyes—flames of irritation, discontent, and an unexpected pang of jealousy.

Tom could scarcely believe his fate. How was it that he— the most powerful wizard of his generation— had succumbed to the pathetic disease of— what was it? Desire? Lust? Infatuation? Such mundane urges were beneath him, he had no wish to pursue anyone or anything that was not remotely related to his quest for power. Yet there she was. In her infuriating fucking dress and those innocent eyes. Did she even know what sort of turmoil she had caused him?

All of a sudden he felt exhausted, defeated. His shoulders sunk visibly as he ran a hand through his hair. He would use a hundred of her sugar packets in his coffee if it meant she would just grace him with her bubbly smile again and just— just what? Leave him be? He did not want that. Treat him as if nothing had happened? Maybe. Release him from whatever enchantment she put him under? Yes.

"What do you want from me?" He asked at last, frustration clear in his voice.

She regarded him with disbelief as she rounded the counter to stand directly in front of him. "What do I want from you?" She repeated incredulously. "I want an apology! I want an explanation! I want—" she sighed, cutting herself off before she could finish the thought. "You cannot just show up here demanding things and ordering people around after how you treated me last time. If you wish to continue this conversation, you will apologise to me."

"You want me to say sorry?" He took a step towards her.

"Yes!"

"Fuck your apology."

Before she could register what was happening, Tom closed the minute distance between them and caved into his desire. He grabbed her face, fingers threading through her hair, and pressed his lips against hers. The kiss was not gentle; it was a collision of pent-up tension and bottled-up desires.

Tom's lips moved fervently against hers, pouring his frustration into the act. It was a silent declaration that transcended the boundaries of his complicated inner turmoil. Tom knew that. But he could not pull away from her— not after having tasted how her lips feel like.

Her hands, which had hovered hesitantly in the space between them, found their way to his shoulders, fingers gripping the fabric of his coat, pulling him closer.

She felt—tasted like God's favourite nectar, sweet and addictive and he knew he would never get enough of it. She might not have been a witch, but he was bewitched by her.

As they broke apart, breathless, the air between them hung heavy with the residue of their shared kiss. He dared not to ease his hold on her, only stared at her with darkened eyes, taking delight in the way her lips were bruised, and puffy, all because of him. But it was not enough. He needed to mark her for all to see.

He dove into the tender skin of her throat like a man starved, teeth sinking into her flesh with no warning, and a sick sort of satisfaction washed over him at the muffled moan that escaped her mouth. He sucked on the skin until he was sure there would be a purple mark blooming on the spot before running his tongue over the flesh to soothe the sting. He did not waste any second before moving to mark another spot.

"I do not even know your name." She managed to choke out in between her whimpers, hands moving of their own accord to tangle in his hair, and a particular tug had him growling deep in his throat.

"Tom." He whispered, pulling away from her neck only to return his lips to hers. "Say it. Say my name." He murmured in between the kisses, pushing her back until her back was pressed against the counter. He easily picked her up to place her on the surface, his fingers trailing along her thighs to her knees to nudge them apart so he could stand in between them.

"Tom." She breathed out in a daze, and he smirked in delight.

She was his. He had already branded her, and he would do much more to ensure she knew it was him she belonged to.

He leaned to brush his lips against the shell of her ear. "I hope you know there is no going back from this. From me." He whispered, fingers slipping under the strap of her dress and dragging it down her shoulder slowly. "You are my dirty little secret now. Mine."

She shuddered under the weight of his words but he was already snaking his hand around her throat as his lips found home on her own once again.

No going back.

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆

taglist: @faerienotfound @orangepact77 @on-ya @a-mj-a @darkmoviesquotespizza @444s0ul @amarisout @daechgustinad @lillywise-the-dancingclown69 @eceamaizmirbosislermuduru @narwhal-swimmingintheocean @turnip-milk @kammsinn @ratsys @linosluna @lizzieolseniskinda @mypurplewinee @riya12044 @multiplefandomstan @thicbucchi @daisydark @an222shka @pennyllanne (let me know if i forgot to add you)

let me know if you wish to be added/removed from my taglist!

#tom riddle #tom riddle fanfiction #tom riddle one shot #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle x y/n #tom marvolo riddle #tom riddle fanfic #tom riddle fic #tom riddle x muggle!reader #tom riddle x fem!reader #tom riddle x you

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velvettte · 1 year ago

Text

series masterlist

nanami kento never called himself a bored man.

sure, he’d admit, his normal routine had gotten quite monotonous. every morning he’d rise at six a.m and go for a morning jog to collect his thoughts. he’d get back by seven to shower and wear his attire for the day — always some suit that he’d preplanned for the week, matched with his signature tie.

he’d make the commute to the office by eight, where he’s accompanied by his assistants and secretaries all greeting him a good morning and giving him his agenda for the day. he’d get into his private office and seclude himself, working for the entire day before returning home again.

nanami thinks he’s had the most boring day yet so far, that is, until you stumble into his office just as he’s about to leave.

you’re shivering, soaked from the rain, and your clothes stick to your skin. he can see every part of your silhouette in this dim light, and for a moment, he’s speechless.

“hello,” you say almost shyly, looking up at him with innocent eyes. “i’m so sorry for the intrusion but it’s pouring outside. do you know anywhere i could find a ride? or wait this out.”

almost cinematically, a thunderbolt ripples through the air, rain splattering against the glass paned windows.

you shiver a bit, and nanami has a sudden urge to cover you somehow.

you’re the most angelic person he’s ever seen, he decides, when the light hits your face just right. he sees your features, defined and perfect, accompanied with lips so plush, he’s unsure how anyone could ever resist.

“i could offer you one,” he says, taking off his blazer and draping it over your shoulders. “my car is just outside. it would be an honor to accompany you home.”

“thank you,” you beam, and his heart palpitates at how your smile brightens the whole place.

the two of you walk together, with him opening the door of his car to allow you inside.

he takes the turn out of the office building and turns to face you, bathed in city lights and looking ethereal. he feels lucky— his day wasn’t boring anymore.

“just another two rights,” you say, soaking in the warm air from his car. “my apartment should be around here.”

he follows your instructions, only to be led to a luxurious establishment. outside the plants were beautifully manicured, holding up despite the harsh weather.

“eden apartments,” he says, slightly in awe when you grin at him. “isn’t this where atlantis solution’s ceo lives?”

you smile even more, and he catches the slightest flush on your cheeks. “ah…that would be me.”

his heart nearly stops.

“well. thank you for the ride mr. nanami,” you say, and he wonders if this ride was a strategy or genuine interest. “i’m indebted to you. i look forward to seeing you all dry tomorrow.”

with that you wink and grin, walking into your apartments and leaving him there, a surprised man.

read part two

feedback is so appreciated!! send an ask or comment to be a part of the taglist <3

#ari scribbles #clause and effect #nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami x y/n #nanami fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jjk fluff #jjk drabbles #nanami drabbles #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you

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amirasainz · 1 year ago

Note

Baby!sainz when she’s in a secret relationship and no one knows about it and when she goes to a race everyone is trying to get her attention but she won’t cause she’s glide to her phone and when she takes a nap or goes to sleep they take her phone and find out she’s been in a relationship

(Hope that makes sense)

Don't woory love,it made 100% sense. I hope this is what you imagined. Enjoy reading and let me know if you have any requests.

For the boyfriendI went with Jude Bellingham.

-XoXo

No Part 2!!!!

The secret boyfriend

It was a sunny day at the Barcelona Paddock. The atmosphere was electric, and the weather was perfect for wearing pretty dresses. While many might have assumed the fans were there to see local heroes Fernando Alonso and Carlos Sainz in action, a closer look revealed that most were members of the “I love Amira Sainz” club.

As Carlos and Amira entered the paddock that morning, they were greeted by enthusiastic cheers and the flashing lights of cameras. Carlos instinctively reached out to ensure his little sister was still behind him. When he didn’t feel her hand, his heart skipped a beat. He quickly turned around, searching for her, only to have Amira run straight into his chest. He grabbed her arms to steady her. Before he could ask if she was okay, she looked up and said, “Sorry, Carlito, I didn’t mean to run into you.” She then returned her attention to her phone, engrossed in texting her boyfriend, oblivious to the world around her. Carlos, ever the protective older brother, followed closely to make sure she didn’t trip or bump into anyone else.

What Carlos and the rest of the world didn’t know was that Amira Isabella Camila Sainz Vázquez de Castro had a boyfriend. Jude Bellingham, one of the world’s top football players, was currently competing for England in the Euro Cup. Since they couldn’t spend much time together, Amira and Jude made the most of every free moment by texting and calling each other. Despite his busy schedule, Jude couldn’t resist messaging the most perfect girl in the world. So, when he got hit in the face with a ball during training, while he was busy texting his girl, no one could blame the media team for turning his reaction into a meme.

___________________________________

Throughout the day, the drivers tried to gain Amira’s attention. The first one was Daniel. “Hiya, pretty girl. How ya doing?” he asked with a huge sunny smile. “Hi Danny. I’m alright, and you?” she replied quietly. Although she had turned her body towards him and stopped walking, her eyes remained glued to her phone. Daniel furrowed his eyebrows, noticing how distracted she was. “Hey, I’m good as well. I actually wanted to—” Before he could invite her for breakfast, he was interrupted by the ringtone of her phone. “Sorry, but I really gotta take this. I’ll see you later,” she apologized, giving his arm an apologetic squeeze. He watched as she picked up her phone, a huge smile appearing on her face. Daniel was left perplexed by the whole situation.

The second to give it a shot was Lando. He saw the perfect opportunity to spend some time with her when all the other drivers were busy with media duties. After one of the McLaren mechanics informed him that she was sitting on the pit wall by herself, he grabbed two cherry Cokes and went on his way. When he saw her, she was on a video call with someone. He couldn’t hear exactly what was being said, but he could feel her happiness radiating from her. He slowed down his steps, not wanting to interrupt her. When Amira turned and saw him standing there, she quickly ended her call, not without sending a kiss to the other person. Lando, confused by this gesture, stood frozen in his spot. Amira walked towards him with a little skip in her step. “Lando! I’m so happy to see you,” she greeted him with a sweet kiss on his right cheek. This sweet kiss made Lando forget to ask her about her phone call. Instead, he started complimenting her looks and led her to a more shaded spot, not wanting her to get a heat stroke.

The last one to try to find out who was catching her attention all day was Charles. Due to the heat, the race was delayed, and the drivers spent their spare time in their motorhomes. At the same time, England was playing against Serbia, and Amira was fully engrossed in the match. After hearing the other drivers talk about Amira’s unusual behaviour, Charles decided to see if he could figure out what was going on. He found her in front of the TV, the match already in full swing.

“Bonjour, jolie fille,” Charles greeted her. “Can I sit here?” he asked, gesturing towards the sofa she was sitting on. Her only reply was a distracted “Mhm,” her eyes glued to the screen, following her boyfriend. “So I’ve heard that you’re a bit distracted today. There’s nothing wrong with that, don’t get me wrong. But I just wanted to let you know that if you need someone to talk to, yo—” Before Charles could finish his sentence, Amira let out a joyous scream. “¡Vamos, carajo! ¡Gracias, Santa María! ¡Gracias, Dios! ¡Muéstrales quién es el jefe!” she shouted, flinging herself into Charles’s arms. A flabbergasted Charles held the ecstatic woman in his arms. Carlos, who also heard the scream, immediately ran into the room. “What’s wrong? What happened? I heard yelling, did you hurt yourself?” he asked worriedly. Amira ran into her brother’s arms, placing her hands on his cheeks and turning his face towards hers. “Un gol. Un gol fenomenal, Carlitos. Hoy está que arde,” was all she said before sitting back down. All Charles and Carlos could do was share a confused look with each other. While the two Ferrari drivers shared the look with eahc-other, Amira was over the moon by the goal her boyfriend shot.

____________________________

The match took all of Amira’s energy. In her opinion, the only right thing to do was take a “short nap.” While the young woman had her beauty sleep, the drivers held a quiet meeting in the room next to hers (Carlos’s driver’s room). “What if something is wrong?” asked Lewis. “Why would she smile so much if something were wrong?” countered an annoyed Max. “Oh, so just because you’re the current world champion, you’re also the woman whisperer, or what?” Lando shot back, glaring at Max. Before a fight could break out, Carlos stepped between the two drivers. “Enough. If all you do is fight, you can pack your bags and leave. There’s the door,” Carlos gestured to the door. Charles took them all by surprise when he loudly said, “There’s the door, bitch!” For a second, Carlos and Charles shared an amused look. They truly had the best bond anyone could have.

“You know,” started Oscar, “when my mom feels like my little sister is behaving weird, she always checks her phone. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying it’s right. However, it helped her find some problems.” For a moment, all the drivers stopped talking. Before anyone could say anything, Carlos said, “Alright, let’s do it.” “Chilli, you can’t possibly do this. This is an invasion of her privacy,” Charles protested. “Charles, for all we know, she could be buying drugs from the black market. I have to make sure everything is alright.” With that, he and Lando quietly entered Carlos’s driver’s room, leaving a confused Charles behind.

Lando stopped in his tracks when he saw the beauty that is Amira Sainz. There was truly no situation where the woman didn’t look breath-taking. Lando, lost in his thoughts, stumbled when Carlos punched his shoulder. “Lando, if you’re only here to look at my sister, so help me God,” Carlos whispered a warning. His friend moved towards him, helping Carlos unlock Amira’s phone. At first glance, nothing seemed unusual. Her wallpaper was the usual picture of a baby sea otter. As always, there were millions of notifications from social media. After looking through her phone for several minutes, even going as far as opening Pinterest, Lando said quietly, “See, nothing is wrong, Carlos.” “No, there is one last thing I have to check,” Carlos replied. He opened her messages, seeing the usual texts from their mother and sisters.

However, the conversation with “Jude<3” caught his eye. When he opened the chat, he was met with a sea of red hearts. He saw messages from this Jude person saying things like, “Baby, I miss you so much,” “My love, you have my heart,” and “Darling, you look eternal.” The worst part was that his sister, his innocent little sister, seemed to thrive on the compliments. Carlos, feeling a thousand emotions at once, couldn’t stop himself from expressing his shock loudly.

“What the fu—”

#formula 1 #baby!sainz!sister #amira sainz #formula 1 x reader #charles leclerc x reader #lando norris x reader #carlos sainz x sister!reader #lewis hamilton x reader #max verstappen x reader #daniel riccardo x reader #jude bellingham x reader #carlos sainz x reader

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falloutrebellion · 24 days ago

Text

Say Yes to Heaven Part I

Soulmark Fluff/Smut request from @hoohamaru 🫶🏼

Pairing: Kakashi x F!Reader

Summary: Summary: Your skills have secured you a job as a chef for Lady Tsunade's inauguration, providing you with a chance to finally leave your village and explore the world. Unfortunately, you unlock your clan's mysterious Soulmate Kekkei Genkai when you encounter a certain white-haired Jonin. In denial, you attempt to ignore it, only to drive him absolutely mad. How long can you resist before fate intervenes?

Part I. Part II. Part III. Part IV. Part V. Part VI.

*Now edited with new cover image*

Note: Slow(ish) Burn. This will be composed of several parts, some of which will be NSFW 👀 Please let me know if you would like to be added to the tag list! I will try to update as fast as life will let me!

The Land of Lilies was a vibrant and peaceful village, where the countryside is covered in flowers and the weather is always beautiful. It was a place where laughter echoed off the sun-drenched hills, and the sweet scent of blooming lilies mingled with the tantalizing aromas of freshly baked goods from the market. It was a pleasant home, though perhaps a bit boisterous and pretentious. Still, it was home. “The Land of Love,” as it was more commonly known, capitalized on its reputation, becoming the go-to honeymoon spot across the lands. Couples flocked to its beautiful hot spring resorts, enchanted by the romantic scenery and the idyllic promise of everlasting love. And thanks to you, the village now boasted the highest quality food on this side of the continent.

Yet, amidst the charm and allure, there lingered a shadow of disappointment. Your clan was said to possess the rare Soulmate Kekkei Genkai—Un Mei No Hito—though only eight people had ever unlocked its potential, and just one was rumored to be alive. More folklore than fact, it served as a local legend, an enticing tourist attraction beckoning hopeful romantics with: “Come find your soulmate in the Land of Lilies!” Girls grew up dreaming of meeting their knight in shining armor, of unlocking this mysterious dojutsu with a foreign lover.

Your mother used to tell you tales of how your clan is blessed with eyes that can sense their soulmate, and once eye contact is made, the Kekkei Genkai is activated. You will be able to sense their presence, become sick in their absence, and even read their minds. And until the two soulmates kiss, fully forming the Kekkei Genkai, they will be led back together by fate.

It’s nothing but a bunch of bullshit, really. And a pretty stupid dojutsu if you do say so yourself. Other clans wielded powerful abilities, such as the capacity to warp time and space itself, while yours was relegated to finding a soulmate.

Stupid.

Not that you ever really cared. It was all a dumb fairytale that you gave up believing many moons ago. Soulmates aren’t real, they’re just an elaborate story spun to entertain children. And no— you’re not bitter, just realistic.

Which is why you poured every ounce of your passion into your work. What had started as a side gig blossomed into your true calling. You had a unique gift: the ability to discern flavor combinations by smell alone. It allowed you to blend spices and ingredients in ways that had yet to be explored. Your talent didn’t go unnoticed, and soon the resort promoted you to executive chef, granting you the freedom to reinvent the entire menu. A high-budget remodel and rebranding followed, and business boomed like never before.

This was about two years ago, and your name must have spread across the lands because a special courier delivered an elaborate envelope for your hands only.

It was a formal invitation (and paid position) to cater the inauguration of Lady Tsunade as the Fifth Hokage. Your hands crumpled the paper as you tried to stop yourself from actually jumping with joy. This was your opportunity to get out of this place and explore the world— and it will not be squandered.

Before the courier could depart, you hastily scrawled your acceptance on a scrap of paper and sent it back with him, heart racing with excitement.

Time to start packing.

When you arrived at the Hidden Leaf Village, there was a pair of Shinobi at the gate to greet you and lead you to your lodging. The sun was beginning to set, and the town was winding down for the evening, but there was still an excited buzz to the air as you drifted behind the two men. The village was massive, at least four times larger than your hometown, just from what you can see.

You felt a mix of awe and anxiety as the villagers glanced your way. In your home village, new faces were a common occurrence—people drifted in and out like leaves in the wind. Here, however, you could feel the weight of curiosity upon you, a palpable energy that made you acutely aware of every gaze. Maybe it was the Shinobi entourage that piqued their interest, you mused with a slight pout.

The Shinobi leading you must have sensed your apprehension. “Don’t worry about them, people here are just a little nosy.” The man with a large scar on his cheek says as he throws a look back at you. He has kind eyes, which give you a flicker of comfort, so you give him a shy smile and nod.

“Everyone’s just wondering who the new cute girl on the block is,” the other pitches in with a light chuckle. His long hair was pulled back by a bandana and he had a metal senbon perched between his lips, which were curled back in a devious smirk.

You were speechless, your cheeks flushing a bright pink when he peeked behind to look at you. He gave you a quick wink before being shoved forcefully in the shoulder by the previous man.

“That’s enough, Genma, she just got here.” He ground out sternly before turning to offer you an apologetic smile. Genma recovered quickly and resumed his aloof stance, hands still in his pockets. “Don’t mind him.”

“It’s fine, really,” you manage to squeak out as the supposed Genma stifles a small laugh.

Your cheeks were still burning as they led you further into the village. You had flirted, hell, even been with other men. But the local boys and visitors were not… Shinobi. Something about a man in uniform gets you flustered, and that’s an unfortunate discovery to have at this very moment.

After they brought you to a large inn at the town's center, you quickly checked in and settled your bags. “The Hokage’s office is in the big red building on the map, and you’re in the center of town, so everything should be close by,” Raido instructed, handing you a folder filled with helpful information. “If you need anything, just flag down anyone with a Leaf headband and they’ll help you out. In that folder are instructions and a list of contacts as well.”

“Thanks,” you reply curtly as you take them, leaning against the door frame to your room.

“My number is also in there, if you need anything. Anything at all.” Genma throws in with his cheeky smirk, his eyes fixated on yours, ignoring the flash of anger coming over Raido’s face.

“You’re walking a fine line, buddy.” He says as he jabs a finger into Genma’s chest. Genma simply puts his hands up as if to surrender before turning to leave with a familiar chuckle. “Have a great night, maybe we’ll see you around,” Raido finishes with a nod.

“Maybe so, thanks again.” You manage to say while attempting to level your voice, annoyed that you’re so easily flustered by them.

He gives you a polite smile before heading off, leaving you alone in your suite. Taking time to go over everything you were given, you learn you have a meeting with the Hokage at 10 AM about the preparations, along with a long list of contacts (which did, in fact include Genma) and a detailed map of the village.

Nearly collapsing into the bed, you thank the gods you have a private bathroom and pass out in record time.

———-

The morning sun filtered through your window, waking you well before your scheduled meeting. You took your time getting ready, wanting to make a lasting impression on Lady Tsunade. After a long, hot shower, you took care in styling your hair and applying a light layer of makeup, finishing with a dress that struck a balance between professional and flattering.

You scrutinized your reflection in the full-sized mirror, humming to yourself with approval.

Soon enough, you found yourself standing in front of Lady Tsunade’s desk with an extravagantly long list of requests and ideas. It was a chaotic mess of ideas- essentially just a bunch of random notes on a piece of paper. And sake bombs were highlighted and circled in at least three separate places.

You look up from the paper with a single raised brow and are greeted with the Hokage’s gentle smile. “Sorry, it‘s not the most organized, but it should be enough to give you a jumping off point.”

“Yes, m’lady, there are plenty of things to work with here. Do you know how many people I will be cooking for?”

“The banquet will include exactly 638 people. The rest of the village will be having a festival. You will be prepping food for everyone on the council, clan elders, and some of our elite Shinobi.” Lady Tsunade rested her chin on her laced fingers, giving you an encouraging look. The weight of her words settled over you, a mix of excitement and pressure. You will be preparing food for the most important people in the Leaf Village.

You nodded, steeling yourself. “I will begin to make a mock-up menu for you to review, and we can go from there. Does that work for you?”

Before she can respond, a blonde-haired boy dressed in a bright orange jumpsuit comes busting through the door, nearly running full speed into the Hokage’s office.

“Hey Grandma Tsunade—” the boy starts, but then cuts himself off as he screeches to a halt right next to you.

Lady Tsunade's eye twitched with anger before she spoke. “Can’t you see I’m in the middle of something here?” She asks with an irritated huff and a glare that looked like it could kill.

You watch the boy gulp and then put his hands together and begin to profusely apologize.

He was actually adorable, and you couldn’t help but laugh quietly at his exaggerated mannerisms.

“Naruto! You can’t just run into the Hokage’s-”

Your attention is pulled away from Naruto to a tall, white haired Shinobi who came running in after the boy. His uncovered eye locked onto yours, and the words immediately slipped from his lips. The intensity of his gaze was unsettling yet thrilling, sending an unexpected shiver down your spine.

Your cheeks flushed red under his stare, and your breath got caught in your throat; it almost felt like your heart stopped for a moment. As his singular eye took you in, you felt drawn to the mysterious Shinobi, struggling to look away.

What the hell?

You somehow muster the ability to break eye contact and turn back to the Hokage, forcing yourself to ignore the masked Jonin. Luckily, the Hokage was too busy glaring at Naruto to notice your flustered state.

You could still feel him looking at you; hell, you could sense his entire presence. It felt like a spotlight, and the heat from your cheeks spread throughout your entire body. Unsure of what to do while the Hokage bickered with the young boy, you clasped your hands behind your back and threw a small glance back at the Shinobi.

Who was still staring at you. Blatantly.

What’s his problem?

You bite your lip in nervousness, your gaze moving to your feet. Was he checking you out? Judging you? It was impossible to tell with just a single eye visible on his entire face. That being said, he is quite attractive for someone hiding most of their face.

And he’s tall. Tall, mysterious, and-

You’re pulled from your thoughts as you hear more running footsteps approach the office. A pink-haired girl turned the corner with a glare that matched the Hokage’s, and her presence unnerved Naruto immediately.

“Sakura- wait!” He cried out before he got pummeled by the pink-haired genin.

The girl quickly recovers and bows politely to both you and the Hokage. “So sorry about Naruto’s rude interruption, m’lady!”

“Yeah, sorry, Grandma Tsunade. And you, too, lady!” Naruto says as he rubs his reddening cheek.

“Uh,” you stammered dumbly amongst the chaos that just broke out.

“Alright, you two, come with me and wait in the hall. Our apologies,” the white haired Shinobi cuts in with a small wave of his hand and a squinted eye as he motions the two children out of the office.

His eye meets yours again before he leaves, and you can swear you see a subtle blush creeping from under his mask.

Hm, interesting.

You continue to ignore him as you’re left alone with Hokage and her assistant once again.

The Hokage sighs loudly before leaning back in her chair. “Well, we’re about finished here anyway. Bring me your mock-up menu when you get the chance. I’ll give you a list of all the vendors so you can introduce yourself and start compiling what you need.” She brings her hand to her face and sighs again, even more loudly this time.

“Sounds great, I’ll have it ready as soon as possible. Have a great day, m’lady,” you say as you bow to leave.

Leaving her office, you can hear the two genin bickering at each other, along with a heavy sigh from the masked Shinobi. As you leave, all of their eyes are on you, and your nervousness rises again.

The white haired man had both of his hands in his pockets as he slouched against the wall, that same damn eye fixated on yours.

“Sorry about Naruto, he can be a real jerk,” Sakura says sheepishly with a gentle smile.

“No worries, we were done already. She said you can come in now.” You fiddle with the chicken scratch paper in your hands as Sakura gives you a polite bow.

“Sorry again, pretty lady!” Naruto says before running full back into the Hokage’s office with Sakura stomping behind him.

Now in the presence of just that man, he says nothing, just watches you.

Ugh, creep, you mutter inwardly before turning to leave without a word.

Even though you kind of hoped he would have said something.

Ending note: I just want to throw in here that I am in love with the idea of Genma just being the town whore lmao

#So I kinda ran with the soulmark idea and turned it into something else (for plot reasons)#this also ended up being a much longer first part that originally thought #I hope you like it!!#requests #fic request #naruto request #naruto fanfiction #hatake kakashi #kakashi hatake #kakashi hatake x reader #kakashi hatake smut #kakashi x you #kakashi x y/n #naruto smut #genma shiranui #naruto au

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lemonade4wanda · 7 months ago

Text

Caring

Wanda Maximoff x reader

Minors dni!! Masterlist°•☆

Summary - when your not feeling your best and Wanda needs someone to care for.

Words - 1.3k

Warnings - NOT PROOFREAD, illness, fever, medication?

A/n - can you tell I'm ill rn?? Srry for disappearing for such a long time again life is a bitch to me rn. I wrote this in two sittings and did not proof read or draft this at all srry lol <3

A/n 2: this is my 3rd time trying to upload this properly I might die if it doesn't do it right this time

Last night, you'd felt the beginnings of some type of cold. A scratchy throat and ever blocked nose beginning to be the only things you could feel. Alas, you ignored the gut feeling that told you to skip training and instead continued on with an extensive two hour workout led by the one and only Steve Rogers. Once done with the workout and shower, you felt better, feeling like you'd kicked that illness and shown it who was boss.. This morning, however, was another story.

Your once vaguely sore throat was now on fire with pain. So dry, it felt like the Sahara. Your nose was nothing more than an accessory at this point, for no matter how much you blew it, stubbornly, it remained blocked. Your arms were in agony aching from the heavy workout yesterday, and you were so worn out that all you could do was lie in bed feeling sorry for yourself.

A few hours went by of you being propped up in bed sickly and barely awake. The sunlight peaked through the closed blinds, creating a small sunbeam onto the bed. If it weren't for the sunbeam, you'd have been still in complete darkness.

About lunchtime, there's a knock on the door, and the voice of the newest avenger sounds from behind it.

"Hey,.. I didn't see you at breakfast or at all for that matter. Are you okay?" Wanda. She'd barely been in the group a couple of months, and she was often quite reclusive despite your attempts to try and include her. However, it did make your heart warm that she was coming to check on you. The only one on the team to have noticed your absence and questioned it.

"I'm just feeling a bit under the weather today." You cough out a nasaly response to her question, a little unsure if she'll be able to hear your raspy voice through the door.

It's quiet for a few moments, and you assume she's left and begin to close your eyes, ready to doze again before your door opens and Wanda's head peers round, looking out curiously. "Your room is nice." She remarks quietly in her Sokovian accent as she looks about, this resulting in a small tired smile from you with all the energy you could muster.

"I was just wondering if you need anything? Have you had any medication or food?" She questions almost immediately, taking your lack of response as an indicator she could come closer.

By the time her words register in your sleepy fever ridden brain, she's already stood above your bed about to put a cold palm adorned with shiny silver rings on your sweaty head. You have to resist the urge to squirm away when she does put her hand down as the cool temperature is such a shock to your body, the way the rings feel against your head is almost jarring and unatural. Not wanting the younger avenger to think you're weak for taking such a hit from the cold. A small smirk on her face as she notices you tense up from the cold feeling.

"You're burning up." She speaks as if this wasn't obvious information. "Pietro used to get like this as a child. I'll look after you." You look up raising a brow at the witch who was now smiling eagerly at you. She wasn't used to being alone, and taking care of you was a way to combat that, and you could really do with the help. Let's be real. Eventually, you manage a weak nod in response while she fluffs up the many pillows on your double bed.

"Friday, can you read y/n's temperature for me? Please." The please is quickly added on at the end as if worried the ai would be upset if she was anything but polite.

"Miss y/n's temperature is 39°c (102 Fahrenheit) in the range of a moderate fever. Drinking lots of water, applying cold compress or showering as well as rest and painkillers could be used to lower this."

A small groan sounds from you at the idea of doing any of these things, which all involve some amount of effort on your part. Wanda, however, seems almost ecstatic at the idea of treating you. Her usual withdrawn personality is gone as she fills up a large glass of water for you.

"I will get you some paracetamol and a cold towel for your head. And then a lemon drink my mother used to make when I was young." The witch lists out her plan step by step as if you were really taking any of it in.

"Sure thing, doctor." You splutter out as your head lolls against the headboard. Maybe it was the fever, but seeing Wanda like this, concerned and caring, was possibly making you burn up more. She giggles softly at the comment and leaves the room to let you sip your water while she's gone. The water is heavenly, and it makes you wonder why you didn't think to get any yourself as you were now feeling like you hadn't drunk in days.

Wanda's return is much appreciated by you and shown with a dopey grin on your face. She smiles back as she places two chalky tablets down on the table alongside a homemade drink made of squeezed lemon juice, syrup, and ginger tea. Next, she places the cool compress onto your forhead, hence with you let out a loud sigh of relief, earning a toothy grin from the Sokovian woman.

"Now take the tablets and have your drink." She practically orders you like a mother.

"You're very bossy for someone so quiet." You mumble back but do exactly as she says, taking the tablets with your water, trying not to make a face at the taste of the tablets and drinking the homemade remedy she'd made for you.

"If I wasn't bossing you around, you'd still be lay on your bed, not taking that fever down."

"Touché." You roll over having given up on the argument you'd clearly not win in this state, something to be saved for when you were feeling better.

"That's it, huh? You gonna turn away because you don't enjoy me being right." She jokes. Despite how ill you felt, it was nice to see another side to Wanda. A warmer more inviting side to her.

"No.. I want you to sit with me." You say without thinking. And for a moment, Wanda was glad you'd turned away so you couldn't see her blushed cheeks. You'd invited her into your bed. To be close to her. It's what you wanted. Now was definitely not the time to say she'd dreamed about a time like this, not with you in your state.

"Sure, I'll sit with you, sweetheart." The nickname makes your sick heart flutter even though she probably meant it fully platonically. Well, at least that's what you thought.

The bed dips, and Wanda is sat next to you, her head resting in the headboard as she gazes down at you. You in your half asleep fever state, rest your head on her lap and your arms around her legs. Wanda is for a moment startled by the movements and a little flustered but quickly recovers into trying to soothe your sick self to sleep. Her fingers made their way into your hair, gently massaging small patterns and brushing through it with her painted fingernails. All the while, she hums old lullabies, which all help lull you into a deep still sleep.

"Sleep well, milaya devochka."

#wanda x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda marvel #wanda x you #marvel #wanda x fem!reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximov #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda mcu #wanda maximommy #wanda maximilf #wanda maxmoff x y/n #wanda maximoff x you #lemonade writes☆•

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scribblesofagoonerr · 6 months ago

Text

first christmas | buddy & monkey: double the trouble

summary: the first part of the flash back to buddy & monkey's first christmas.

double the trouble masterlist

“Oh the weather outside is frightful, but the fire is so delightful,” Jordan sang the song lyrics aloud as you were forced into a shopping trip with Leah and Jordan, and a 7 month old Buddy, who seemed most fascinated in the lights and decorations draped around the shop, “Since we’ve no place to go. Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow.”

“I’m bored,” You felt like you’d already voiced your opinion a few times, but both the older girls seemed too distracted by the Christmas decorations to notice your disinterest in the shopping experience, “How much longer do we gotta be here for?”

Christmas was known to be a festive time, it was supposed to be filled with magical memories and joyous fun, however for you, the past had always been the complete opposite.

Growing up, all you’ve ever known is a bleak Christmas day in a cold and mould infested house, with numerous beer cans strewn around while the stale smell of cigarettes lingered in the air.

So your version of Christmas? It was nothing but plain hell.

You knew this year would be different though, of course, in your new home. It’s the only topic Leah’s been talking about since the beginning of November, so you’re confident to think that the blonde is definitely planning to go all out this Christmas.

Which led you to where you are currently standing in the Christmas aisle in a busy shop, and you were growing bored, increasingly fast.

“Why are you all mopey, little one?” Jordan was the first to notice your complete disinterest in the Christmas decorations.

What was so special about these decorations, anyways?

“I’m bored. When can we go home?” You complained one more time, darting your interest to something completely different - Lego, bingo. Now that was fun!

“Got something better to do, huh?” Leah teased as she turned to look at you.

You shrugged your shoulders in response, “I got homework to finish, and a game of Fifa I wanna play as well.”

“Since when do you willingly do homework?” Jordan joked, nudging you playfully with a grin.

“Since, uh, now… I’m bored here, can we please go home?” You all but attempted to plead, you were bored out of your brains right now at that very moment.

Jordan chuckled in amusement and gently patted your shoulder, “Just a bit longer, little one.”

You resisted the urge to throw your head back and groan aloud. Why do people actually like to shop? It’s so… dull.

“I think we might need to get a new tree this year, you know? We’re due a new one, and maybe some decorations to go on it–” Leah rambled on, her excitement for the new tradition this year. “Oh, and the baubles! We need to get new ones’ for both the girls this year,”

“Whatever you want to do love, it’s fine with me,” Jordan agreed with the blonde before she turned back around to look at you, “Have you decided what type of advent calendar you want this year, little one?”

You arched your brow in confusion, “What’s an advent calendar?”

“Well, it’s a chocolate in a calendar, pretty much… And look, they even have ones’ that are Shrek themed as well! How cools’ that?”

“I… I don’t get it,” You murmured, still confused about the idea of it.

“During the 24 day run up to Christmas from the 1st of the month, you get to open a window each morning with something behind it, normally chocolate,” Leah took over explaining to you, “If you don’t want chocolate then there’s other options of what you could get?” She suggested.

“Um, I… I do like chocolate,” You were apprehensive to agree, you did kind of want one but you didn’t want Leah and Jordan to go out of their way and buy you one, “But it’s okay, I don’t need one of them. I’ve never had one before, I don’t need one now.” You told them.

You’ve never needed one before, so why do you need one now?

You never understood the tradition of advent calendars. You were never lucky enough– no scratch that, you never even attempted to ask your dad for one, despite how much the other kids at your school would boast about them.

What was so good about one of them anyways?

Jordan, however, seemed very insistent for you to pick one up though, even with your reluctance to disagree, “Little one, you need to have one. It’s a tradition.”

“No, no, I don’t. I’m fine,” You repeated, shaking your head, “I don’t need one of them.”

“But you have to have one, little one. Oh, what about a sweet one instead? You like them, don’t you?” Jordan’s eyes widened in excitement, pointing her index finger in the direction of one designed with sweets, “I’m pretty sure there’s even a crisp one as well!”

“No, it’s okay. I really don’t want one,” You continued to insist on not wanting a calendar, much to Jordan’s continuous insistence that you needed one.

Jordan shook her head at your response, “Nonsense, I’m not having it– I’m getting you one of them,” Without further words, she proceeded to grab the one with the Shrek design on it and tossed it in the shopping trolley in front of her, “You can’t go without one, not on my watch, little one.” She joked, although you couldn’t help but feel bad about you having it though.

It’s something you weren’t entirely used to, you didn’t know how to react when people brought you stuff.

“Le,” You whined, looking at Leah with a somewhat pleading look with a bit of hope that she would jump in and help you out, “Tell her. Please.”

“Jord, calm down a bit love,” Leah told her girlfriend with a soft tone of voice, sharing a knowing look with her, before she turned back to you, “I think Jords’ just excited for you to have one and share this experience, my girl.” She explained gently.

You shook your head in protest against the idea, “I don’t want one, I don’t need one. Save the money, save it for something else!”

“Little one, it’s not going to break the bank,” Jordan snorted in amusement, failing to see that you were beginning to get worked up over it, “It’s just an advent calendar.”

“I don’t deserve one,” Your bottom lip trembled, your hands began to become shaky and you could feel your breath getting rigid.

Jordan furrowed her eyebrow in confusion, “What’re you talking about? Everyone deserves an advent calendar, little one.”

“I don’t. I’m nothing but a menace, I’ve not been doing well at school… I got into a fight with a kid,” You began to stutter your words, feeling yourself getting upset by such a silly little thing.

“Menace or not, you still deserve an advent calendar, and you’re not going to change my mind on the matter, little one,” Jordan continued to insist, not realising how you’d become a lot more stiff about things.

“I don’t… I don’t want one!” You exclaimed, feeling all the emotions inside you get too much, as Leah and Jordan both pause and look at you in concern, “I… I don’t want one!” You repeated, barely louder than a whisper.

Leah seemed to understand straight away as she gestured for Jordan to watch Buddy before she moved to stand in front of you, “Hey, breathe,” She told you in a calm and gentle tone of voice, “It’s okay, you’re okay. How about me and you go stand outside, and get a bit of air, yeah?”

You nodded hesitantly in agreement, “O… Okay.”

“Alright, come on then, my girl,” Leah murmured, gently wrapping her arm around your waist as she guided you out of the busy shop to stand outside, “Just copy me okay? In and out, in and out…”

You followed her instructions and began to slowly feel the overwhelm start to drift.

“Is that better now?” Leah questioned, genuinely concerned as she rested her hand on your shoulder.

“A bit,” You told her quietly in agreement, “I… I’m sorry for having a meltdown in the shop, I didn’t mean to do that. I… I’m sorry for my outburst.”

“Hey, you don’t need to apologise, alright? It’s okay to feel overwhelmed,” Leah reassured you, pulling you in towards her as she enveloped her arms around you, “If you really don’t want to have an advent calendar either then that’s okay, I think Jord was just getting a bit excited and she wants you to experience the things that you haven’t before…” She held you close, her hands gently rubbing your back as she whispered soothing reassurances.

“I just… I don’t understand why it’s such a big deal,” You murmured, your voice muffled against Leah’s coat, “It’s just chocolate.”

“I know, my girl,” Leah replied softly, using her own nickname for you that comforted you the most, “But well, it’s not really about the chocolate, though. It’s more about the memories that we’re going to make instead. It’s about creating new traditions for you, me, Buddy, and Jords as well.”

You stayed quiet for a moment, processing her words that Leah always had a way of making things sound less daunting, like they weren’t as overwhelming as they felt.

“I don’t wanna waste money though,” You mumbled, still hesitant, “You already plan to spend so much on me, and Buddy as well as Christmas decorations…”

Leah pulled back slightly to look at you with her eyes full of understanding, “Listen to me, my girl,” She said with a gentle firmness, “This isn’t about money, alright? It’s about showing you how much you’re loved, and that you are a part of this family. You deserve nice things, just like Buddy does, and you deserve to feel the magic of Christmas, even if it’s new to you.”

“I… I don’t know what to think,” You admitted, as your bottom lip wobbled again, and you ducked your head, hiding your face.

Leah cupped your cheeks gently, coaxing you to look at her, “I know it’s hard to accept sometimes,” She said, her voice a whisper, “But Jords and I love you so much, and we want to do this for you. Can you let us? Just this once?”

You hesitated, then gave her a small nod in agreement, “Okay, but only if it’s not too expensive,”

“Atta girl,” Leah smiled, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, “It won’t be. I think that Jords’ might be more excited about the fact there’s a Shrek one for you.” She teased, her tone light and affectionate.

You pouted, “Can we go home now?”

Leah laughed, draping an arm around your shoulder as she steered you back inside, “Patience my girl, patience.”

“Yeah, Le’s still got the rest of the aisle to ogle over,” Jordan joked, catching the tail end of the conversation, and exchanged a quick glance with Leah, checking if you were feeling better.

“Urgh, but it’s so boring! They’re all the same, aren’t they? I’m flippin’ bored!” You groaned dramatically, bouncing back to your chaotic self like you hadn’t just had an outburst ten minutes prior to being back in the shop.

Leah chuckled and took over pushing Buddy in her pushchair again, “We won’t be much longer.”

“Ugh,” You huffed, wandering over to a shelf of toys where your curiosity piqued, “What does this do?”

Jordan turned around to see what you were talking about and smiled in amusement, “Press it and find out.”

“Okay then…” You furrowed her eyebrow in confusion, reaching forward and pressing the button as the music blared aloud, and in the process making you jump half a mile, “Jesus– Oh my God. That was scary!” You exclaimed, holding your hand over your heart.

Jordan burst out laughing at your reaction, while Buddy seemed to find great amusement in the music at least, “Made you jump, huh?” She teased.

“Shut up,” You grumbled, though your lips twitched into a reluctant smile, “Do people actually like these things?”

“So, I take it you don’t want one, then?” Leah teased.

“No!” You were quick to exclaim, “Absolutely not. Not a single chance!” You were dead set against the idea of one, even if Buddy seemed to really like the music.

“Are you sure?” Jordan joked.

“I’m positive. Nope, I definitely don’t want one of them!” You insisted, firm on your decision as you were just relieved it stopped playing the music, much to Buddy’s disappointment instead.

Leah pointed to a display of stockings nearby, her eyes lighting up, “Oh, look at these! How adorable are they?” She was in awe over them as she turned to look in Jordan’s direction, “We have to get them. All four of us can match!”

“They’re cute,” Jordan agreed.

“That’s settled then. We’re getting them,” Leah didn’t hesitate to quickly rummage through and find the correct initials for all of you before placing them in the ever-growing shopping trolley, “What do you want for Christmas this year, my girl? You need to start and think, so you can make your list out for Santa.”

You tilted your head, “Santa?”

“Yeah, you know– the man in red and white who brings you presents,” Jordan explained, throwing her arm around your shoulder and steering you in the direction of more Christmas decorations.

You frowned, “Well the kids’ at school talked about him, but he never visited my house– Does he only visit special houses?”

Leah’s smile faltered briefly, “Uh, I think he might’ve been stuck getting in the house.”

“Oh,” You murmured in realisation, “Well, me and this ‘Santa’ have personal beef then.” You said, crossing your arms over your chest.

Leah’s eyes widened and she tried to lean in to Jordan and whisper, “Remind me to hold her back when we take them to visit the grotto,” She was almost certain that you might attempt to try and fight the man.

Jordan snorted, “Noted.”

“I don’t like this Santa fella,” You declared.

“Right then,” Leah began to speak as her gaze softened, “How about you have a think what you would like for Christmas, write it down and then you can give it to one of us instead. How does that sound?”

You shrugged your shoulders, “But I won’t want anything though.”

Jordan frowned, “You have to have presents to open on Christmas day, little one. You can’t not have anything to open.”

“Why? I don’t get it,” Your voice softened, the usual spark dimming as confusion flickered over your face, “It’s never happened before.”

Jordan hesitated, her eyes darting to Leah for help, “Well…because it’s Christmas, and everyone deserves them on this very special day.”

“I… I still don't understand,” You murmured, your voice quieter now, “I’ve never received them before. Why hasn’t he come before? Was I really that bad?”

Leah crouched down in front of you, her gaze steady and full of warmth, “No, Monkey, you weren’t bad. Not even a little bit.”

You frowned, your arms wrapping around yourself protectively, “Then why now? Did I do something to deserve them this year?”

“You don’t need to do something to deserve them, my girl,” Leah reached out, gently taking your hands in hers, “I think Jords’ might’ve worded that a bit wrong.”

“Yeah,” Jordan admitted, stretching the back of her neck awkwardly and unsure what exactly to say next in case she messed up again, “Sorry, little one.”

You looked between them, still uncertain about a lot of things, “Oh.. Okay then.”

Leah’s lips quirked into a playful smile, “It’s just nice to receive them from Santa, you know? This year we’ll leave out milk and cookies for him, maybe even a carrot for Rudolph, and then when you’re asleep, he’ll come and pay a visit. So when we wake up on Christmas morning there’ll be presents waiting under the tree, just for you.”

“Wait… Whos’ Rudolph, and why is he getting a carrot? That’s lame!” You exclaimed, trying to keep up with the different names’ that you’re very unfamiliar with, “Why isn’t he getting cookies? That’s not really fair, is it?”

“Rudolph is one of Santa’s reindeers that helps him fly his sleigh,” Leah chuckled, shaking her head in amusement, “He’ll need a healthy snack as well, he can’t eat cookies like Santa.”

Your brow furrowed as the skepticism creeped in, “This Santa fella sounds like a creep still…”

Jordan laughed and shook her head, “He’s not, little one. He’s just… magical. It's part of the fun.”

You kept your arms crossed, not entirely convinced about things, “Yeah, I’m not convinced much there but whatever you say,” You told them both, “I’m still mad at him for not showing up until now though.”

“This tree is perfect,” Leah beamed a wide smile as she stood there with her hands on her hips as she admired the brand new tree standing in the corner of the living room, “I can’t wait to decorate it!”

“Are you sure that you want to put it up already?” Jordan questioned, raising an eyebrow, “It’s only the middle of November.”

“It’s never too early for Christmas, Jord,” Leah replied confidently.

“Are you sure about that?” Jordan teased, admiring the way that her girlfriend stood there beaming with pride.

“I’m sure! The house is going to look so magical when it’s all done, and it’s going to be great for both of our girls,” Leah turned towards you, her smile softening, “Do you want to help me decorate the tree, my girl?”

You hesitated, shifting awkwardly, “Do I have to?”

“You don’t have to, if you don’t want to, but it might be fun,” Leah suggested in a gentle tone of voice, “We can even put your special bauble on there that we brought, can’t we?”

Jordan snorted in amusement from across the room, “Remember how much fun this is when our 7 month old is trying to pull all the lights and baubles off the tree, eh?” She teased.

“Don’t be a Grinch, Jord,” Leah shot back, playfully as she stuck her tongue out at her girlfriend.

You tilted your head curiously, “What’s a Grinch?”

There was a short collective gasp from both Leah and Jord, “He’s only the best character in one of the greatest Christmas films!” Jordan exclaimed, “We can watch it if you want?”

Leah laughed at Jordan’s reaction, “It’s a bit too early for Christmas films, don’t you think?” She teased in response to earlier.

Jordan scoffed, “Oh, really? Says’ the one who wants to put the tree up already!” She pointed a finger at you and Leah dramatically, “We’re watching The Grinch. No arguments. It’s for educational purposes.”

“Whatever you say. Just as long as you don’t complain about me putting the tree up then,” Leah responded, resisting the urge to roll her eyes.

“You can go ahead and put the tree up, me and our girls are going to watch the movie,” Jordan instructed, wasting no time to turn the TV on and sought out the film to watch.

“I think Buddy’s more interested in the lights,” Leah retorted, watching Buddy, who was currently mesmerized by the dangling, twinkling lights draped across the tree as her tiny hands tried to reach out for them, determined to grab them, “No, no. Those aren’t for you to pull on, bubba.” She said, scooping Buddy into her arms before she could cause too much mischief.

Jordan smirked in amusement, “Oh, I give it a week before she’s trying to pull the baubles off the tree.”

“No way,” Leah gently kissed Buddy’s forehead, “Those aren’t for you to pull on, bubba. Mummy’s trying to decorate the tree so it’ll be all pretty. You just like looking at them, don’t you, huh?”

Buddy babbled happily in response, making Leah and Jordan both laugh.

“Let me take her so you can finish the rest of the tree,” Jordan offered, scooping Buddy into her arms and pressing a gentle kiss on top of her forehead, “I don’t blame her for being so mesmerized, you’ve made it look wonderful already, love.”

“Thanks, babe,” Leah murmured, exchanging a gentle kiss on the lips with Jordan, “Monkey,” She called over to you gently as you sat curled up on the sofa with your head buried in your phone, “Are you sure you don’t want to come and help decorate the rest of the tree? There’s still a fair bit to go.”

“Oh, uh, no… no, I’m alright,” You hesitated, your hands fidgeting nervously, “I’d probably just end up messing it up or something.”

Leah moved closer to you, “You won’t mess it up, my girl. I’m sure of it.”

“I’ve never decorated a tree before though,” You admitted, looking down while your voice is barely audible, “I… I don’t know what to do.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Leah’s heart ached at the vulnerability in your voice, she moved to sit beside you and pulled a box of baubles closer, “Everyone has to start somewhere, right? How about this? You take the special baubles we picked out for you and choose a place for them on the tree. You can make it your own.”

“Are you sure?” You continued to look at Leah hesitantly.

Leah smiled warmly, “I’m positive, my girl. Come on, let’s do it together.”

Tentatively, you picked up a shiny bauble with your name etched on it. With Leah by your side, you found a perfect spot on the tree and carefully hung it on the branch, “Is this okay?”

“There we go,” Leah said proudly, stepping back to admire your work, “Hey, that looks amazing. Nice one, my girl!” She said as she wrapped an arm around your shoulder, squeezing you lightly.

"How much longer do we have to wait in this line now?" You grumbled, your impatience getting the better of you as you fidgeted in your spot, "It feels like we've been here forever!"

Another tradition you couldn't fathom was the idea of going to pay a visit to Santa at his grotto, but you were, standing in a line with Leah, Jordan, Buddy and Amanda, who'd decided to join the trip to experience the magical moment of Buddy meeting Santa for the first time.

The line to Santa's grotto stretched endlessly, or at least so it felt like it to you, and you couldn't help but continue to fidget impatiently while standing beside Leah, "Patience, my girl." She reassured you, knowingly.

"This is our Monkey we're talking about. I don't think she has patience," Jordan joked, peering up from looking at her phone, amused by your grumbles.

Amanda gave you an amused smile, bouncing a bundled up Buddy in her arms, "We're almost at the front now, Monkey."

You huffed, glancing ahead at the entrance of the grotto, "Why're they so small?" You speak your mind without a second thought, gesturing to the small people, dressed in bright costumes, bustling around, "Those little people are kinda low-key terrifying." Their cheerful movement only made your expression sour further.

"They're called Elves, Monkey," Jordan said, stifling her laughter.

You squinted, still not entirely convinced, "I don't care what they are called, they're still freaky," You muttered, "Are people actually that small?"

"Monkey!" Leah hissed, her voice dropping to a sharp whisper, though her lip twitched in amusement, "You can't say things like that, don't be rude."

"But I'm not bein' rude, I'm just bein' honest," You argued, gesturing dramatically towards said elves, "They are tiny though, right? Like, freakishly small!"

"Stop it," Leah shot you a warning look.

Amanda cleared her throat, clearly fighting back her own laughter, "So, do you know what you're going to ask Santa for this year, Monkey?" She asked, steering the conversation in another direction, and trying to get some inkling of what you would like.

"Hell nah, there's no way I am tellin' that creep what I want," You told her firmly, crossing your arms your chest, "Amanda! Did you know that he actually sneaks into houses when you're asleep?"

"Yes, I've heard about that," Amanda agreed, her tone teasing as she rocked Buddy, who stared at you with wide eyes.

"It ain't right, is it? It's weird, like dude, I'm sleepin' so g'way!" You exclaimed, your hands flying around in exasperation, "He like sneaks into the house in the middle of the night, and that's just borderline creeper alert!"

Amanda chuckled in amusement, entertained by your antics that she's not seen entirely before considering you're usually more secluded and reluctant to speak around any of Leah's family, "Your big sister certainly is funny, isn't she?" She coos to Buddy, bouncing her lightly in her arms.

"Looks like it's nearly our turn to go in now," Jordan motioned, nodding towards the family ahead of you as they disappeared into the grotto.

"Great," You declared with a newfound determination, your face set in a scowl, "Me an' the fella in red need to have words." You told her, rolling up your sleeves, more than ready to scrap with him.

"Whoa, no, no, no!" Leah was quick to react, grabbing your arms and pulling you back, "I don't think so. Monkey you cannot fight Santa."

You scrunched your face up in confusion, "Why not? He's the one that's left me out every other year until now! Let me 'ave him. I can fight him!"

"No, absolutely not," Leah told you in a firm tone of voice, "I know you might be upset about the past but that still doesn't mean you can try and fight him, alright? It's definitely not okay to do that."

"But, he forgot me..." You whine in protest.

Leah sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose,"Monkey, I'm being serious now. No fighting Santa Clause, do you understand?"

"There's a sentence I bet you never thought you'd say, love," Jordan quipped, amusedly.

"Fine," You grumbled, crossing your arms, "I won't try to fight Santa."

When your turn finally came, Buddy's reaction was immediate and dramatic. As soon as her eyes locked on Santa's jolly face, within seconds she was letting out an ear-piercing wail, burying her face in Amanda's shoulder, clinging onto her like her life depended on it.

"Oh dear," Amanda said, patting Buddy's back, "I didn't expect that reaction."

"Oh bubba," Leah cooed in a gentle tone of voice, "He's not that scary, I promise."

"Here, let me take her," Jordan said, gently scooping Buddy into her arms, "Shh, it's okay, Buddy. It's okay."

"Is it? Cos' I think she might have the right idea," In your defence, you did try and keep your word, however your anger can't be helped, and seeing the man with a joyful expression just made you twitch with rage.

"Don't even think about it, Monkey," Leah warned, sensing your intentions.

Ignoring her, you stepped forward, jabbing a finger in Santa's direction, "Listen, 'ere, mate, yeah?" You began, your tone scolding, "You can't come into me' house while I'm asleep, you creep! But also, since you're taking notes... I like Shrek and LEGO, so, capiche?"

"Oh no," Amanda mumbled, trying to stifle her laughter.

Leah groaned, pulling you back, "That's enough, Menace. Reign it in."

"But I wasn't done yet!" You protested.

"Oh no, we're definitely done. Let's go, out there," Leah declared, steering you toward the exit, "Keep this up and you'll be getting coal in your stocking."

You scrunched your face up in confusion, "What's coal?"

"Never mind," Leah muttered.

"Well at least this trip has been somewhat memorable," Jordan quipped, exiting the grotto with a tearful Buddy in her arms.

Leah exhales a deep sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose, "And to think I just wanted a photo of the girls with Santa, is that too much to ask for?" She mumbled, glancing between you and Buddy.

"What's so fun about a walk in the woods? It's freezing outside!" You complained, leaning up against the doorframe of the living room with a scowl etched on your face.

"It'll be fun," Leah chuckled as she finished off wrapping a present, carefully placing it in a gift bag.

You scrunch your face up in disagreement, crossing your arms over your chest, "I'm not convinced."

It was now Christmas Eve, which meant there was yet another tradition - a walk with Leah's entire family. You weren't overly keen on the whole idea of that one though.

"Do I have to come?" You questioned, not thrilled about the idea.

"Yes you do. Stop being grumpy," Leah said, smirking.

"I'm not grumpy, but there's gotta be better things to do than go for a walk in bitter temperatures!" You dramatically huffed, throwing your arms up in the air in protest.

"Okay, now you're being dramatic," Leah teased, "It's not even that cold outside-- Buddy's excited, aren't you, bubba?" She cooed, crouching down to scoop Buddy off her playmat, where she lay there, admiring the twinkling lights.

You glanced at Buddy, who let out some babble you didn't really understand, "Yeah, she sounds like she's thrilled. Besides, she doesn't even have to walk!"

"What's going on?" Jordan asked as she walked in, eyebrows raised.

"Leah's forcing me outside when it's freezing Jord!" You whined in protest, dead set against the idea, "Why do I even have to come?"

Jordan chuckled, "Oh, I'll leave this one up to you to deal with." She joked, gently taking Buddy from Leah to get her ready to go out, "Come on little miss, let's go and get you ready to go out, shall we, hm?"

"Oh thanks babe, I really appreciate the help," Leah murmured sarcastically, shaking her head, "You're part of the family now, Monkey, and it's a tradition of ours."

"But I... I like being warm," You mumbled, keeping your arms crossed over your chest.

"It's not that cold outside, Monkey," Leah said, rolling her eyes as she walked through the hallway to grab her coat off the peg, "You'll like it, I promise."

"It's England, it's always cold, Leah," You complained, still not liking the idea one bit.

Leah pinched the bridge of her nose, shaking her head, "Here, coat and shoes on, please."

"Fine," You huffed, stomping your foot as you reluctantly took your coat from Leah, "But I'm still not happy about this!"

As it turned out, you did end up having some kind of fun at least, with Jacob, Leah's brother and Ben, Leah's cousin.

"Race you there!" Jacob shouted.

"Nah, I'm gonna beat you first!" You yelled, sprinting ahead.

You and Jacob seemed to get on like a house on fire, he was only a couple of years older than you give or take, so it was fun and Ben was like a big kid anyways.

"I'm gonna beat you both, slow pokes!" Ben joined in, grinning as he bolted to catch up with you both.

From behind, Leah and Jordan watched with amused smiles as they walked with the rest of Leah's family, "So much for her not wanting to come then, huh?" Jordan quipped.

"Tell me about it," Leah chuckled, shaking her head as she watched you race ahead of Jacob and Ben, "Be careful, Monkey, or you'll slip--" She trailed off as you skidded slighty but caught yourself, "Yep, she definitely didn't listen to a single word I said then."

"Relax, love," Jordan reassured her girlfriend, clasping her own hand in Leah's, "She'll be fine, she's sensible."

Leah raised an eyebrow, "This is Monkey, we're talking about right? The one who personally tried to fight Santa at the grotto, remember?"

"Yeah... You're right there," Jordan laughed.

"Oh, I heard all about that!" Holly, Leah's cousin, chimed in, clearly amused, "Absolutely hilarious!"

"Oh, don't even remind me," Leah groaned, "It was so embarrassing, honestly."

"But she did seem determined about it, though," Jordan quipped.

Berny smiled warmly, "I have to say it's nice to see her coming out of her shell a bit more now."

"I'm used to her being quiet around here. She's a right little firecracker, isn't she?" Amanda chuckled, noting back to the trip at the grotto, and also hearing about other incidents.

"Oh, she definitely can be," Leah said softly, "It's taken her some time getting used to it, but she's slowly starting to get there."

"I have to admit when you first brought up the idea of bringing a teenager home when you were heavily pregnant, I did have some concerns," David, Leah's dad, who had been quiet until now, piped in.

Amanda hummed in agreement, "I think we all did."

"Same here," Jordan admitted, "But you try going against a hormonal heavily pregnant woman who was determined to do it. I know when to pick my battles."

Leah shot her a playful glare, but her face softened at Jordan's next words, "I wouldn't have it any other way now with our little family." She said, leaning over and kissing her girlfriend on the cheek.

"Nice save," Leah retorted, smitten by her girlfriend's words.

"She's a great kid, Le. She does seem settled," Holly stated, watching with a fond smile as you ran around with Jacob and Ben, laughing and having fun.

Leah nodded in agreement, smiling, "She is great, and she absolutely adores Buddy as well."

"They are going to be double trouble together," David joked, patting Leah on the shoulder, "I'm telling you when Buddy's old enough to talk, they'll run rings around you both."

"I don't look forward to that," Leah grimaced, her head filled with images of all sorts of chaos you and Buddy would cause, "Thank God there's still time to prepare for that."

"Do you think she's excited for Christmas?" Berny wondered.

"I think so?" Jordan replied, making it sound more like a question than an answer.

"She's never really gotten to properly experience it before, until now," Leah explained to her family, "She was pretty reluctant to even let us buy her an advent calendar this year."

Jordan winced at the memory, "Yeah, that was an experience."

"It's a first Christmas for both of them, you'll just have to make it extra special," Jordan, Leah's cousin, chimed into the conversation.

"And just think this time next year, you'll have your little boy as well," Leah told her with a soft, genuine smile, "Buddy will have a friend then." She added, glancing down at the sleeping 8 month old in her pushchair.

"That's right," Jordan hummed, resting her hands on her own ever-growing baby bump, "I can't wait to meet him."

"It'll fly by before you know it," Amanda told her, "Leah said the same about Buddy, and before we all knew it, she was here." She cooed, crouching down to place a gentle kiss on the top of Buddy's forehead, who was still fast asleep.

"I just don't want Monkey to feel too overwhelmed by it all, and I know our family can be a lot sometimes," Leah admitted, feeling weary about tomorrow and how much it might be for you compared to usual.

"Don't worry, bubba, I'm sure she'll be fine," Amanda reassured Leah, "Don't overthink it so much, alright? Let's just take it one day at a time."

"Yeah, you're right," Leah nodded in agreement.

"Now, I've wrapped both of the girls' presents for you both to take back to your house when you go," Amanda explained to Leah and Jordan, "I thought it was best so you could open tem at home without everyone around."

Leah nodded along, listening to Amanda's explanation, "Thanks, Mum. I'm sure the girls will both love them,"

"I bet Buddy will love the wrapping paper more," David chuckled, peering down at his granddaughter, who's succumbed to sleep.

"I have kept the receipts anyways just in case the clothes aren't the right size, so we exchange them, of course," Amanda added in, weary about the fact that the clothes might not be the right size.

"I'm sure they'll be fine," Jordan quipped, shrugging her shoulders, "Oo, speaking of trouble, here she comes!" She motioned to you, racing back towards them.

"I won!" You exclaimed, slightly out of breath as you leaned over, your cheeks were rosy red from the cold, "Did you see? Them two are slow!"

"Oh yeah, totally. You definitely out run them!" Jordan teased, ruffling your hair, "You look freezing, little one. Ready to go and grab a hot chocolate now in the cafe?"

Your eyes lit up at the question and without any hesitation you answered, "Yeah!"

"I've heard that you really like hot chocolate, Monkey?" Holly chimed in, curiously, having heard about your liking for the sweet drink as the whole family headed in the direction of a cosy cafe.

"I do, but it has to have whipped cream and marshmallows, otherwise it's lame," You rambled, your shyness completely going out of the window.

"I tend to make pretty good hot chocolate, if I do say so myself," David declared, keeping his hands stuffed in the pocket of his trousers.

"Oh yeah, Monkey. You'll have to try one of David's special ones that he makes," Amanda piped into the conversation with a knowing smile.

Leah chuckled, "I learnt it from the pro himself. Ain't that right, Dad?"

"Of course, sweetheart," David replied in agreement.

"Really? Can I try one?" You asked, curiously, wanting to try it for yourself to make sure it was really that good.

"Of course you can," David agreed, a fond smile on his lips, "Tell you what, I'll make you one tomorrow. How's that sound?"

"Deal!" You exclaimed.

You all reached the cafe and didn't waste time huddling inside of it, it was mostly quiet, with only a few other people sat down, and the smell of hot chocolate and fresh baked pastries filled the air, enough to make your mouth water.

"Right, you, come on let's go and find a table to sit down at," Jordan gestured you in the direction of a table in the far corner, big enough for the whole family.

"I'll go and order the drinks," Amanda made the decision, looking around everyone, "Hot chocolate, all round?"

"Yeah, please, Mum!" Leah agreed, steering the pushchair in a spot that wouldn't be in the way and Buddy could still sleep peacefully.

"Go on then!" Jacob didn't hesitate to agree, sliding into the empty seat on the other side of you, "Monkey, when you come round tomorrow, we have to play Fifa!"

"You're on!" You declared, nodding in agreement as the two of you just fell into conversation about the game.

A bit later on, you sat there with your warm hot chocolate in your hands while deep in thought. You weren't used to all these people around you and it feels somewhat strange, but also comforting as well.

"What're you thinking about, my girl?" Leah noticed your distant look, looping her free arm around your shoulder and pulling you in towards her.

"It's just, well it's weird, you know?" You mumbled, hesitant to speak your feelings into words.

Leah arched her eyebrow, "What is?"

"Havin' a family, like, a proper family," You admitted, your tone of voice quiet, afraid to say the wrong words to her, "I just... I just, I mean, I've never really had one before, it's always just been me and my dad, and now there's a lot of people around. They've welcomed me in, but they... they don't really know me, do they?"

Leah's expression softened, "They're getting to know you, Monkey, and they all love you," She explained in a gentle tone of voice, "And that's family, for you. You're one of us now, remember? You're a Williamson." She declared.

"Actually, love," Jordan interjected with a grin, "She's a Williamson-Nobbs, remember? Get it right."

leahwilliamsonn posted

liked by katie_mccabe11 and 1,229 others

leahwilliamsonn traditional christmas eve walk & back home ready for santa to pay a vist! 🎅🏼🍪🥛

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bethmead_ oh i bet they're both so excited! 🥹💗

view 13 replies liked by 73 others

liawalti oh i adore both of them so much! ❤️

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viviannemiedema 🎅🏼❤️

view 17 replies liked by 43 others

jordannobbs can't wait to see both of their faces tomorrow! 🥹💗

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katie_mccabe11 remember to sleep with one eye open, menace! 😉

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#monkey #double the trouble fic #leah williamson x reader #woso x reader #woso one shot #scribblesofagoonerr #buddy #chaos fc reader #separate reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso community

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madmarsii · 6 days ago

Text

Hold me tight

Omg, guys, I forgot to post this!

June of Doom 2025 | 15. "Please" (blindfold—fall—touch starved)

---

Part 1

Hero didn’t realize they were falling until it was already too late. The world tilted, crooked and bent, and suddenly up was down and down was up—

Then, gentle hands caught them, steadying them with surprising ease.

“Hello, there,” said the Villain, voice smooth like silk and far too familiar.

Hero was too exhausted to muster annoyance. All they wanted was to postpone their inevitable collapse until they were back home, ideally face-down on the thin mattress in the corner of their room. But encounters with villains never ended with rest. Usually, they meant losing the little sleep Hero was allowed to have.

“Please,” they mumbled, blinking heavily. “I need to get home.”

“I’m here to help, love,” Villain patted them on the head. “You almost sound that you forgot my little promise.”

Oh. That.

Even though seeing Villain’s place was a tempting offer, Hero didn’t have time for that.

“I can’t,” they said, rubbing their eyes. “I have to be back at work in four hours.”

They checked their watch again, as if it would change anything. They really needed to go. Any second wasted here was another blow to their already sleep-deprived body.

“I called to your job and said you’re sick.”

“No you didn’t!”

“Yes I did. Told them you’ve come down with something nasty and shouldn't be out in this weather. They were quite sympathetic, actually.”

Hero fumbled for their phone, panic prickling up their spine. "You didn’t. You can’t just—this is bad, Villain. I need to fix this—"

Villain caught their wrists gently, pulling their hands away.

“People are dying, Villain.” Hero failed to keep their voice steady.

“Yes. And they’ll keep dying. With or without you running around. You can’t stop that.”

“But—“

“No buts. You don’t have to die with them today. Now, come.”

Hero didn’t know what urged them to comply, but they did. Maybe it was the exhaustion, or the softness in Villain’s voice. Either way, they didn’t resist as Villain guided them to their car, almost savouring the gentle touch on their wrist.

Villain opened the driver’s side door and picked up two black cotton bands from the seat.

“The blindfold?” asked the Hero.

“So you do remember.”

“What is the second one for?”

“Your hands.”

“We didn’t agree on this.”

“I don’t want your picky fingers anywhere near the blindfold.”

This was stupid idea. Letting the Villain blindfold them, tie them up… they were stupid. Yet they turned and clasped their hands behind their back. “Don’t make me regret this.”

“I can’t promise that.”

The knot wasn’t anywhere near tight. Hero could probably wriggle out with little effort, if they wanted. They stayed put.

The ride was quite long, but the Hero suspected Villain took some unnecessary turns to further confuse them—not that it would be needed. Exhaustion fogged Hero’s thoughts until they couldn’t focus on anything except the quiet hum of the engine and the soft rhythm of bumps in the road.

At some point, they dozed off, the black blindfold grounding them in comfortable darkness—and soon after, they were rudely waken up again, when the car stopped and the humming sound of the engine died.

Hero felt Villains touch on their arms, as they guided them to lean forward, their fast fingers working on the binds to release their hands.

“And my eyes?”

“Not yet.”

They were helped out of the car, steady hands keeping them from stumbling as they were led forward.

“Careful. Stairs.”

Inside, once the door shut behind them, it finally weighted down on Hero what they have done: this was very, very stupid idea. They stood motionless, blindfolded, heart hammering. I’m so dead.

But the Villain quickly undid the knot on the blindfold. The soft piece of fabric slipped from their face and fell to their shoulders.

Hero blinked.

The space was... beautiful. All the windows were covered with blinds or heavy curtains, but the interior was spacious, clean, and warm. So unlike the chaos Hero usually associated with Villain’s name.

Villain gently took their hand and led them further in, to the bedroom. “On the bed.”

“Do you like bossing me around like that?”

“Very much.”

Hero laughed, startled by the sound of it. This was getting ridiculous. They shouldn’t be here. The villain shouldn’t be doing this.

But that was the thing about villains. They never cared about what they should or shouldn’t do.

Villain climbed onto the bed behind them and, with a quiet sigh, wrapped their arms around Hero’s torso.

Hero didn’t mean to lean into it… yet they did. They were so tired. Every muscle in their body ached, each bone felt brittle… and the Villain was so warm. They felt tickling breath on their neck, beautifully slow, even and calm.

“When you wake up,” Villain murmured, barely above a whisper. “I will make you watch a cheesy rom-com while I prepare you a breakfast.”

Hero laughed softly. It sounded perfect.

“You want to poison me?” they teased.

“Come on, again?” Villain’s hand moved, slowly rubbing circles into their shoulder blade.

“It is fair for me to assume-”

“Don’t be stupid.”

They shifted behind Hero, not pulling away. Just adjusting, pressing closer, like they could warm Hero from the outside in. Their hand settled at Hero’s chest now, over their heart. Hero’s never been held like this—ever. And they knew, by now, they would always let Villain tie their hands and cover their eyes, if it meant to be touched like this.

---

And I managed to fill the entire prompt!

@juneofdoom

#june of doom 2025 #juneofdoom #day15 #heroes and villains #hero x villain #villain x hero #whump #whump writing #whump community #writing inspiration #writing prompts #my writing #fluff #comfort #comforting #cute #i finally made pt. 2

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theemporium · 1 year ago

Note

Yay congrats!

My order: a smut-berry daiquiri (21 - if you want to come, you’ll have to beg.”)

Hot hot, can’t wait!

thank you for requesting! i partially blame @hischierhoney for my feral nico mood🤠anyways, enjoy!

21. "If you want to come, you'll have to beg."

It was a stupid fight.

An incredibly stupid, downright dumb fight that escalated far more than it should have. And to be honest, on any other day, it would have been a small fight that you both would have rolled your eyes and laughed at the very same day because it was stupid.

Today, however, was not one of those days.

It had been a cumulation of things that led to the tension in the fight: between Nico spending every free moment on the ice or at the rink and you being swamped with projects at work, the two of you hadn’t had time for each other. It was something you were both at fault for, and the work stress did not help the situation.

And maybe—just fucking maybe—you missed having each other’s attention. But somewhere in the stress and the tension and the pressure, you both seemed to snap over something as stupid as one of you forgetting to unload the dishwasher.

Which led to you giving Nico the silent treatment on the first day off that the two of you had lined up.

And you regretted it almost the second you started it because half an hour in, you missed him. You missed being able to curl up on his lap. You missed listening to him tell you stories about the boys that you had missed in the last few weeks. You missed standing in the kitchen, both of you moving seamlessly around each other whilst you cooked together. You missed him and his smile and his arms wrapped around you and—

You just really missed your boyfriend.

But you were stubborn. One of the most stubborn people he had ever met and, despite knowing how you felt considering the fact you were lingering in the living room with him instead of locking yourself away like you usually did when you were mad, you weren’t just going to give in and break the silent treatment.

Which meant Nico had to get creative with the ways he got you to finally break.

“I—” You cut yourself off, bottom lip tucked between your teeth as you felt his soft kitten licks against your clit.

“C’mon, baby,” he mused, a hint of something teasing and smug in his voice as he squeezed the fat of your thighs. “Gonna keep hiding those pretty noises from me still?”

You pressed your lips together, determined to bite back the moans you so desperately wanted to let out as you pushed your face into the arm of the couch you were currently sprawled on.

“Hm, still being difficult?” He murmured, his warm breath fanning over your soaked cunt and you couldn’t resist the urge to buck your hips a little. “Look at my girl, so fucking wet and ready for me. Bet I could just slide right in, you’d take my cock so well. Like you always do.”

And at that, you couldn’t help but let out a pathetic whine.

“There’s my girl,” he hummed, pressing a soft kiss to your inner thigh as his hands pressed your hips down into the couch.

“Nico,” you groaned, squirming under his hold with a small huff of annoyance when you felt him continue to give your thighs the attention your pussy wanted.

“You finally done with the silent treatment?” He asked, spoken so casually like he was talking about the weather. Like his face wasn’t buried between your legs moments ago.

“Please,” you grumbled, your pride long forgotten as you glanced down, the sight of him grinning up at you with a few strands of hair in his face making your stomach twist with desire.

“Nuh uh, honey,” he shook his head, keeping your legs spread just how he wanted you. “If you want to come, you’ll have to beg. Let me hear that pretty voice.”

“Nico,” you whined but he lightly nipped your inner thigh in response.

“You sound pretty when you beg, baby, let me hear it,” he murmured before he leaned down, licking a slow, broad strip along your cunt. He delighted in the way your back arched off the couch in response. “I know my pretty girl can be good for me, yeah? Beg and make those pretty moans and I’ll make you come as many times as you want, schatz.”

And truthfully, you would have been a fool to turn an offer like that down.

#cece's cocktail celebration #nico hischier #nhl #new jersey devils #nico hischer x reader #nico hischier x you #nico hischier x y/n #nico hischier fic #nico hischier one shot #nico hischier smut #nhl x reader #nhl x you #nhl x y/n #nhl fic #nhl smut

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kikimurphys · 5 months ago

Text

I just can’t

One shot.

Warnings: Cheating, Smut.

" We shouldn't be doing this," you murmured between breathless kisses, your fingers clutching the fabric of his jacket as his hands roamed your body, gripping your waist and pulling you closer.

"I know," he whispered, his lips grazing the curve of your neck, leaving a trail of heat down to your collarbone.

"I'm engaged," you gasped, the words tumbling out like a confession as your hands clung to his shoulders, desperate and trembling.

"I know," Cillian replied, his voice low and rough as his fingers found the hem of your dress, pushing it higher. He cupped your ass, his touch igniting sparks that made you moan softly. "This is the last time."

"The last time," you echoed, though the words were more for you than for him, a fragile attempt at convincing yourself. Your resolve crumbled as you pulled him into a searing kiss, your hands sliding beneath his jacket, shoving it down his arms.

You always told yourself this would be the end. That you'd finally walk away. But it was a lie, and you both knew it. Something about him, about this, always pulled you back in—no matter how hard you tried to resist. You were already engaged when you met Cillian, but the heart is never bound by logic. It wants what it wants, and yours wanted him.

Before you met Cillian nearly a year ago, you were certain your future was exactly what you wanted. You had been with Greg for almost a decade—your first love, your only love. Or so you thought. You didn’t know any different. You didn’t know what real happiness or love felt like until you saw it reflected in the most captivating pair of pale blue eyes.

It was at a birthday party for a mutual actor friend. You’d slipped out onto the balcony for a cigarette, shivering as the biting Irish cold seeped through your short black dress and into your bones. The thin fabric offered no protection, and your high heels didn’t make standing out there any easier. You weren’t used to this kind of weather, and it showed.

Then he appeared, stepping outside with an easy confidence, a faint smile on his lips. He shrugged off his coat and offered it to you without hesitation. “You’ll freeze out here,” he said in that unmistakable accent, his voice a low murmur against the wind.

You took it gratefully, wrapping yourself in his warmth, and in return, you handed him a cigarette. That exchange led to a conversation that lasted the rest of the night.

You’d known who he was, of course—Cillian Murphy, the actor. But meeting him in person was entirely different. There was an effortless magnetism to him, an intensity in the way he listened, his pale blue eyes fixed on yours as though they were the only thing that mattered. And when you said his name, you swore his gaze darkened, his lips curving slightly at the sound.

“I’m engaged,” you had confessed at some point, the words feeling strange in the open air between you.

It didn’t seem to faze him. He leaned in just enough to blur the lines between casual and intimate. “Maybe we could have a drink next time you’re in town,” he said, his tone as light as the smile he wore, though his eyes hinted at something far heavier. He gave you his number, and you kept it, telling yourself it was harmless.

A few weeks later, you were in Dublin again. You texted him to meet for a drink at your hotel bar. “Just a friend,” you’d told yourself. You even planned an early night.

But you never finished your drink. Before you knew it, he was following you back to your hotel room.

Since then, the two of you had been entangled in a secret affair, hidden in the shadows of your work. You were filming in Dublin, and he made every excuse to be near you. It wasn’t just sex—it had long since stopped being about that.

Cillian cooked you dinner and took you to places he thought you’d like, his thoughtfulness surprising you every time. In turn, you brought him little tokens, things that reminded you of him, things you knew would make him smile. You were like any other couple, except it was a secret.

He nipped gently at the sensitive skin of your neck, his breath hot against your ear. “You know what would make this easier,” he murmured, his voice low and weighted with meaning.

Your fingers clenched his shirt instinctively, your body betraying your inner turmoil. “What?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his pale blue eyes searching yours. “If you’d leave him and come with me.”

Before you could respond, his lips captured yours in a desperate, consuming kiss, as if silencing the words he couldn’t bear to hear. He already knew your answer—it was always the same.

“I can’t, Cill,” you gasped when you finally pulled away, your voice trembling. “I do love him… just not the same way I love you. It’s confusing. I can’t—I can’t—I just can’t.”

Your words spilled out in a frantic rush as his lips trailed down your chest, grounding you in the intensity of the moment.

The truth was, you were terrified. You always had been, and Cillian knew it. You had been with Greg for half your life, and those years meant something to you. Every time the subject came up, he could see the battle in your eyes—how your mind drifted to the memories you shared with Greg, to the times he made you laugh, to the comfort of the life you’d built together. Those thoughts were like an anchor, pulling you back from Cillian every time.

But Cillian wasn’t ready to let you go. He had a plan, one that simmered quietly in his heart. If he could make you laugh more, love more, feel more alive than you ever had before, maybe—just maybe—you’d choose him. If he could create more joyful memories with you than Greg ever had, then one day, you might see that your place was with him.

And if it took time, he was willing to wait. He would wait a lifetime if that’s what it took. Because he believed, deep down, that if he made you happier, you’d come to him. You had to.

His hands slid down your sides, steadying you as your knees threatened to give way under the weight of his words and his touch. “You don’t have to decide now,” he murmured against your skin, his lips brushing the hollow of your collarbone. “But you’ll have to decide eventually. You can’t keep living like this. We can’t keep living like this.”

You hated the truth in his words. Every stolen moment with Cillian brought you closer to the edge of a decision you weren’t ready to make. Your mind kept returning to Greg—the man who’d been there for you through everything. He was dependable, stable, good. You loved him, you did. But then there was Cillian, who made your heart race in a way Greg never could, who saw you, really saw you, in ways you didn’t even see yourself.

“You say that, but you’ve stayed this long,” you whispered, your voice cracking under the weight of guilt and longing. “If it’s so unbearable, why haven’t you walked away?”

He stilled, his hands resting on your hips as his forehead came to rest against yours. For a moment, there was only the sound of your mingled breaths, the silence between you heavy with unspoken truths.

“Because I can’t,” he finally admitted, his voice raw and quiet. “Because when I look at you, I see everything I’ve ever wanted, everything I didn’t think I deserved. You make me believe I’m more than just… me. You make me feel like I’m alive.”

The vulnerability in his voice broke something inside you. Without thinking, you pulled him into a kiss—a kiss that spoke the words you were too afraid to say aloud. It was deep, desperate, and full of the emotions you kept locked away. Tears slipped from your eyes, spilling down your cheeks and onto his as your lips moved together.

Cillian cupped your face, his thumbs brushing away the wet streaks, his touch as tender as his kiss was consuming. “Don’t cry,” he murmured against your lips, his breath warm and shaky. “Please don’t cry.”

You couldn’t stop. The weight of everything—your love for him, your fear, your guilt—was too much. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice breaking.

He shook his head, his forehead pressed to yours. “Don’t be sorry. Just be here. With me.”

Before you could respond, he scooped you into his arms, and you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist, holding onto him like he was the only thing keeping you afloat. He carried you to the bed, his movements deliberate, his gaze never leaving yours.

As he laid you down, his hands traced your body with a reverence that made your heart ache. You reached for him, pulling him closer until there was no space between you, just the heat of your shared breath and the rhythm of your hearts.

“Make love to me, Cill,” you whispered, your voice trembling but steady, your green eyes locking with his. They were filled with a quiet plea, a desperate need to lose yourself in him, to forget everything else.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Cillian stood and stripped himself bare, his movements unhurried but deliberate. He kicked his pants aside and returned to you, his body warm and inviting as he hovered over you. Your lips met his again, a fiery, unspoken connection passing between you as your arms and legs wrapped around him, holding him close.

His hands moved with practiced ease, peeling your dress away and tossing it carelessly to the floor. He unclasped your bra, his eyes drinking in the sight of you as his lips descended to your skin. He kissed down your chest, lingering at your breasts as his tongue flicked over your sensitive nipples. The soft nip of his teeth sent shivers through your body, your back arching in response to the exquisite sensation.

As he continued his slow, deliberate descent, his hands found the waistband of your panties. He slid them down and off in one smooth motion, discarding them without a second thought. His fingers brushed over your wet folds, drawing a sharp gasp from your lips as pleasure coursed through you.

He looked up, his blue eyes dark and hungry as he watched your reaction. The corners of his lips tugged into the faintest smile, one laced with satisfaction.

“Please,” you gasped, your voice breaking on the single word, your hips instinctively bucking against his hand.

He captured your lips again, his kiss deep and consuming as he pushed your legs open, his hands gliding down to caress the sensitive skin of your thighs. One hand gently cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing over your flushed skin, while the other moved to position himself at your entrance.

Cillian pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his blue eyes dark with desire but soft with emotion. Without breaking eye contact, he rolled his hips forward, entering you with a slow, deliberate thrust. You both gasped at the connection, the air between you electric. His forehead rested against yours, and for a moment, everything else faded away.

Your eyes locked, your breaths mingling as he began to move. Each thrust was unhurried yet powerful, his body pressed firmly against yours. His lips brushed yours in fleeting, tender kisses as your heels dug into his back, pulling him closer, deeper.

The pleasure built quickly, your body responding to his every movement. He groaned low in his throat, his head tilting back briefly as his eyes squeezed shut, lost in the sensation. The bed creaked beneath you, the sound mixing with your gasps and the rhythm of your bodies.

His hand found your breast, his grip firm as he squeezed, drawing a moan from you. The skin of his hips slapped against yours, the intensity rising as you felt yourself nearing the edge.

As the tension reached its peak, his movements slowed for a brief moment. His hand came to cradle your cheek again, tilting your face upward. “Look at me,” he whispered, his voice rough with passion and emotion.

You opened your eyes, meeting his gaze, and time seemed to still. His blue eyes bore into yours, filled with a depth of feeling that made your heart ache. “I love you,” he told you, thrusting deeper.

“I love you too,” you responded, your voice trembling as you felt yourself climbing higher and higher toward your orgasm.

The connection pushed you both over the edge. His hips quickened, and you cried out as waves of pleasure crashed over you, your body trembling beneath him. His jaw tightened as he groaned deeply, his eyes never leaving yours as he followed you into release.

Breathing heavily, you clung to each other, your foreheads pressed together once more. Your heart thundered in your chest, matching the rhythm of his, as the world slowly came back into focus.

Cillian’s hands were still gently resting on your body, as if unwilling to let go, even in the aftermath. He looked at you with an intensity that sent another wave of emotion rushing through you. His voice, hoarse and raw, broke the silence.

“Please, Y/N, come with me. I can’t share you anymore.”

His words hung in the air, both a plea and a promise.

You looked into his eyes, searching for the sincerity, the depth of what he was asking. And there it was—no more doubts, no more hesitation. Just love, raw and unapologetic. You felt a warmth spread through you, the decision that had been weighing on you finally becoming clear.

“Okay,” you whispered, your voice breaking with emotion. “I will.”

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