#even if they were just basic holiday scents

[goforth-ladymidnight]

So I'm shopping on Etsy for ACOTAR merch for Christmas (because I wanted to treat myself this year), and good GOD there are so many Tamlin's Tears mugs and Salty Little Bitch Tamlin candles and bookmarks. Whyyyy? At least the Suriel Tea mugs are kind of funny.

It makes me want to make my own stuff instead, to be honest.

[namazunomegami]

Mélange

Pairing: Okkotsu Yuta x gn!reader

Synopsis: Sometimes humans are not above animals. Sometimes they burn to fulfill the same basic needs and not strive for more in the moment. A full belly, safety, procreation. What happens when all three of them need to be satisfied? Tinged with spice. Under the influence of an unknown substance.

CW: aphrodisiac, dubcon, slight somnophilia, feral and animalistic Yuta, he has cannibalistic thoughts, licking, lovebites, scratching, biting, slight pain, handjob, premature ejaculation, fingering, Reader can feel Yuta’s ring during fingering, slight dacryphilia if you squint, implied multiple rounds, porn with feelings, good old unprotected sex + creampie, both Reader and Yuta are ultra possessive in their own toxic way <33

WC: 3.6k

Credits: my dearest @notveryrussian for proofreading this mess and doing a bit of rework on the tenses <33 the cannibalcore pics are from pinterest

Song rec: needles and pins by deftones and gibson girl by ethel cain both give a nice vibe to the fic as we slowly transition from Yuta's POV to Reader's POV

A/N: Can't believe I'm posting my first one shot here 🥹 After so many unsuccessful attempts to wrap up multichaptered fics, at least, this one messy smut got finished. My first ever finished fic 🥹 And the first to get completed in a relatively short time. Yes, a week is a short time for me. And happy holidays to y’all, this is gonna be the last fic in this year so expect only shitposts from me from now on lmao.

Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated <33

Minors do not interact or else I'm gonna go apeshit, also a seperate warning for heavy dark content as usual. If there's anything mentioned in the tags that you're not comfortable with, this is not your fic.

Many sorcerers envy the title of special grade. Yuta thinks these people deserve a separate Naraka in Hell. They don’t realize the immense responsibility, they can’t fathom the challenges, the danger of the missions. The threat those curses pose. They only care about the power he carries.

During today’s mission, Yuta realized he’s not entirely an unstoppable force. Even someone like him is weak to certain fighting styles, he can’t counter everything with his wide range of copied techniques. This curse’s grade was well deserved. Whenever the katana slashed deep into it’s skin, a strange kind of gas was emitted from the wounds. Though he eventually exorcised the curse, he did breathe in the weird, sweet-smelling substance. The scent was hard to resist, it felt like the perfect mixture of all his favorite smells, inviting and comforting. However, he trusted his body to withstand the temptation, reinforced to near perfection with cursed energy and the usage of reversed cursed technique.

There was no problem until he finished reporting back to the higher ups and was on the way home. Maybe it was just the fatigue, the late summer heat, the humidity of the night but something made him feel weird. Almost sick. A thin veil of sweat glistened on his skin, his cheeks, ears and upper body were flushed. His chest was heaving, a burning, aching sensation tormented him between his legs, throbbing with a synced rhythm to his heartbeat. All his thoughts narrowed down to one single, inherently primal thing. A need. A hunger.

Shame and confusion swelled inside his chest. How can he lose his composure? How can he want it so badly? If he wasn’t so wired for monogamy, he would have fucked anyone who moved. And with every passing minute the feeling was getting worse. Descending slowly to the brink of madness. Hell, he was close to wheezing and growling like a rabid dog. He already had no patience to find the right key to the door. He could break that shit, he definitely could. He had no idea why, but he could stop himself from doing that. Maybe the insane price to get it fixed.

But the comfort of his home isn’t helping him. He can’t calm down, he can’t unwind. On the contrary, everything intensifies the strange urge in him to act territorial. But it’s only natural when he grew up feeling like he didn’t have anything he could call his own, whether it’s a material possession or a person. Every comprehensible thought vanished from his head. Leaving only the instincts. The need to claim. He immediately goes to the bedroom, not even bothering to have a quick shower or a light meal.

He gazes at your sleeping form, unknowing and peaceful. Innocent and vulnerable like a newborn lamb and he’s… he wouldn’t compare himself to a wolf, he’s a more vicious predator than that, all starved and keen on capturing its prey. Your limbs are thrown in every direction on the mattress, a thin, silk blanket barely concealing your body, but you’re hugging a some of it to your chest. Like you’re missing him, finding solace in the way the material is touching you. The windows are wide open, hoping that the night air can cool you down.

Yuta caught himself almost drooling at the sight. He can’t stop himself, he can’t fight the shameless thoughts plaguing him. The need, the want is stronger than what he deems right in the moment. His steps are quiet, that part of the floor that normally creaks is now completely silent. He looms over you, like a sinful, ungodly spirit, your very own kanashibari that’s bound to you. His weight is pressing down on the mattress ever so slightly, caging your form between his arms. He breathes in the smell of your freshly showered skin. A mixture of heady vanilla, milk and honey. He mindlessly licks a stripe up your thigh, wanting to taste you, to bite you, to tear out a big chunk of your flesh with his teeth to satisfy this torturous hunger he feels for you. More than anything he wants to devour you. Completely. Have you all for himself. The thought alone makes his dick so hard it’s outright painful.

He ascends towards your hips, leaving soft yet wet kisses that make you twitch in your sleep. Yuta swears that he’s more sensitive to all stimuli, his senses are working at their maximum capacity. He’s able to feel every morsel, every particle of you. The soft peach fuzz, the bumps, the ridges of your stretch marks, their pearl-like glistening texture flowing on the surface of your skin like a river. The material of your shorts, loose and thin, he can feel the seams on the band of your underwear through the fabric. Where the bones bend, where flesh folds. Your smell. Not just from the shower gel and the laundry detergent but your natural scent, so strong he believes it’s some kind of weird pheromone that’s driving him wild. To the point he almost considers nudging his nose between your legs, just like dogs do when they smell blood there.

Maybe it’s not entirely wrong to claim you this way. He can spare you from this more primal side of him, you won’t get to see it and despise him for it. It’s enough if he deals with the shame alone, self-deprecation is his ultimate talent afterall. But that can wait until after he finished soothing this excruciating itch. Because now the last remnant of his resolve goes out the window.

He pulls up your shirt all the way up to your chest. His shirt to be exact. It makes his heart flutter, a piece of him enveloping you, makes the boundaries between your sense of selves blend and blur. The thought of you using his stuff as your own feels so right, so promising.

He practically glues his face to the expanse of your stomach. The flesh is so soft between his teeth, feels so good to bite on it, so easy to suck on it until the skin turns a deep purple.

And maybe… maybe he can lower his crotch onto your knees. Just a little. Just for a little friction…

You stir, opening your eyes slowly, tiredness and confusion are still heavy on your expression. And then you feel teeth nipping at your stomach, fingers digging into the dips of your hips firmly, some wetness here and there along your leg.

Your first response is fear.

You start to squirm and fuss, kicking your legs up in the air, not even thinking about who’s doing this to you until Yuta grips your shoulders and pushes you back into the sheets, keeping you still by the weight of his own body, shushing you. You can feel his nails penetrating the skin, branding the crescent Moon itself into your flesh.

“It’s me, don’t panic.”

You’d recognize this voice anywhere, but you blinked a few times just to clear your vision. The striking white of his coat is easy to spot, even in the dimly lit darkness of the room.

“Yuta…?”

Your voice is an ode, a blessing. Even when it’s hoarse and faint after waking up. He bends down and kisses your temple, nuzzling into your hairline, breathing in your scent. His body feels oddly warm, almost overly so, radiating through you. Through your spine, to the very center of your being and that’s when you notice that you’re a little bit… hot and bothered. What has he done to you while you were asleep?

“I’m so sorry…” he whispers an apology. But his voice is just… it’s like his mind is not entirely here. Something is hurting him and he’s trying to conceal it. Barely. You can hear his voice is hitched from the deep breath he takes, in a futile affort to calm himself. “Have you been sleeping for long?”

He asks you for the sake of it, there’s no genuine interest behind it. Even if you were sleeping for hours, it wouldn’t stop him. He couldn’t stop. He genuinely feels like he’ll die if he can’t get it out of his system. He snuggles his face into the crook of your neck, listening to the rhythm of life coursing through your veins. The thought of puncturing your jugular with his teeth is so irresistible. He must do it… It’ll drive him insane if he won’t.

“N-not really.” your answer is weak, all your strength is used to move your arm freely, trying to locate your phone on the bedside table. The light coming from the screen almost blinds you as you’re checking the time. “I went to bed about… half an hour ago.”

He dips his fingers right into the hollow dips between your ribs, he kneads the skin in a way that has his nails slightly scratching you. And then you realize that you’re almost entirely topless.

He traps your earlobe with his teeth, sucking on the soft tissue.

“Y-Yuta…” your voice is more reprimanding that you want it to be. But your patience is starting to run thin. You want to know what the fuck is wrong with him, he never did anything like this before. Even if he’s horny as hell he would ask for your permission because that’s the way he is.

Instead of giving you an answer he bites your neck. Hard. It hurts, it makes you yelp. Shit, that’s gonna leave a mark. And he growls, just like a wild animal.

You squirm, you jolt, trying to get away from the source of your pain with a prolonged hiss. Only one hand of his is enough to stop you from fussing while the other fondles your chest. Your nipple is caught between his fingers, he twists it slightly. You can’t see it getting red, hard and swollen. His moves are awkward and tactless, but somehow they help with soothing the sharp pain in your neck. Your tensed body eases up a little.

He kicks the inner side of your knee with his own, creating a little space in between them, then forces your legs apart with one smooth movement. As he tries to settle right under your core, you feel him brushing the apex of your thigh.

He’s so painfully hard.

You’re sure he can read the instinctual reactions of your body. The rush of adrenaline, your pulse, how your heart is almost breaking your ribs with every beat. You’re getting more and more aware of your surroundings because you have no idea what will happen to you. He pins your wrists down on the bed. He doesn’t want you to escape.

What has gotten into him? Where’s your shy and gentle man, your sweet little angel? The one who needs so much guidance, who gets so awkward about his lack of experience compared to you. The one you need to encourage to talk about what he likes since you won’t judge him for it. Well, angels shouldn’t be benevolent and sweet, right? They’re the soldiers of god after all. And the depth of his psyche is still very much a mystery to you…

“I don’t want to hurt you… I just need you.”

He has no control over his own thoughts, everything on his mind gets blabbered out. Not just that he needs you, but that he wants to fuck you (he rarely uses that word so you’re even more baffled), that he wants to eat you up, bite for bite, digest you so nobody else can have you.

It sounds devoted yet utterly terrifying.

“You’re-“

He’s scary. Well, you knew this prior to crawling into his life. What people thought about him, one rumor more unhinged than the other and you have no idea how much truth there was to them. Everyone has some sort of admiration, respect for him or repulsion of him. You just tend to forget sometimes, how malicious his cursed energy feels, how his eyes never reflect the light, looking outright dead. But it’s all so contradictory to his personality… you know that you’re dear to him, he’s willing to risk everything for his friends, he’s so starved for connection, to carve himself a place within people’s hearts. You blamed the whole phenomenon on Rika. And you took pride in yourself, for taming a monster.

“I feel so…” he suspires, trying his best to contain himself. “… weird.”

And he’s a kind monster indeed, even now, controlling his impulses as he humps your thigh like a feral dog.

“I don’t know if I’m able to hold back, so I need to know….”

His voice is desperate, almost a plea. He’s afraid of himself too. With the last bit of his sanity, he wants to make sure that it’s alright for you, whatever he has in store for you.

You don’t protest.

His lips crash into yours in a violent, hungry kiss. Your teeth clang together, he shoves his entire tongue in your mouth. He grabs the hem of your shorts, peeling off anything that covers you below the waist. You hear the fabric tear. It’s the same with his own clothes too, in a few blinks of your eyes he’s already stark naked.

He takes your hand, pulls it towards him, you can feel him in your palm. So hot, hard and swollen to the touch. He closes your fingers around him and his hips start moving back and forth, fucking himself into your grip. You smear the precum along his length with your fingertips, squeezing lightly when you feel the base. It has him moaning, breathily, more vocal than he usually is. He’s so sensitive, his pace quickens and his voice is thinner, almost like a whimper.

And he groans. Unexpectedly. It bursts deep from his throat. You feel his cum pooling in your palm. Though you may be surprised, you don’t make a big deal about it. You search for tissues on the bedside table to clean your hand like nothing happened.

“Feelin’ okay?”

Your voice is calming, tender, it warms his heart but the mere sight of his cum on your hand makes the blood rush to his dick again.

You sit up to caress his face. You open your mouth to question him, but he won’t let you start your aftercare routine.

“It’s… not enough.”

He grabs your thigh, hooking your leg over his shoulder, giving him better access to your naked core. Your back falls onto the mattress again.

“I’ll take care of you.”

It’s a promise, you’re sure of it.

His fingertips sink into your folds, relief ripples through him when he finds them already wet. He goes all out on you, his thumb circles your clit and two fingers dip in at your entrance, waiting to loosen you up so they can be pushed inside. His nails gently caress your inner thigh, it’s a tickling sensation, goosebumps dot your skin, a sigh dies on your lips. Treating it as a sign, his fingers start stretching your walls. They curl and curl inside you to the point of the cold band of his ring touching your folds, your essence soiling the stainless metal. The symbol of the haunting spirit of his first love. Childish love that it is, unserious, all just a game. The promises… the word forever holds no weight. Or maybe it does but they have no idea how hard it is to maintain those vows.

Can you ever compare to Rika in his eyes? Have the same effect over him? You don’t dare to talk about it just yet. No, the nature of your relationship is not the same. Childhood love is not like adult love, you just want some reassurance. You want to feel important.

And your reassurance is soaking that wretched finger with your juices. Make that wretched ring yours. He spreads his fingers inside you, scissoring you apart, eagerly working to prepare you. You’re holding onto the sheets and the pillows desperately, your body feels so volatile you might as well float away.

When he pulls out you feel hollow, incomplete. But he won’t keep you waiting long. The head of his cock feels like salvation. Scorching hot and wet with the mixed arousal. And he completes you with one smooth thrust. You’re whole, fulfilled, a merged existence worth suffering over. He’s throbbing deep within your walls, pulsating through your nerves. You can’t tell if the noise coming out of him is a moan, a whine, or a growl, you only know that it’s bordering on bestial. Filled with need, an ache, coupled with something beyond your comprehension.

He drills into you, there’s so much strength and resilience in him, it almost makes you scared. But something else also swells inside your chest. An unknown kind of excitement, a thrill, it makes you feverish, wired. The dissonance between his absolutely feral state and the fact that he’d never hurt you. Or maybe he would, in a way that you’d like it. Nobody could bite through your throat with such force that your windpipe breaks, only him, him and no one else.

He holds you at the back of your pelvic bone, lifts you up in an utterly perfect angle. You mewl him that it feels so good, so perfect, so raw. You love this feeling so much. You get completely lost and immersed in it.

“…it?”

His voice is faint yet his broken self-worth shines through it. Poor soul… You didn’t pay attention to his most important desire. He’s a parasite living off of your kind words, but nothing can make him as blissful as knowing you love him, despite everything he despises about himself. And you’ll feed him. Prove it to him that he matters more than the things he does to you.

“Oh Yuta, my sweet…” the rest of the sentence gets stuck in your throat as you open your arms and he crashes into your embrace like a lost, lonely puppy. You hug him tightly, brushing through his locks with a free hand. The sweat makes the strands stick together. “Of course I love you, don’t be silly.”

He might as well have been a puppy in his previous life. And now your words eased his guilt about his temporary condition. He gained your forgiveness.

What he does next is much more instinctual. He folds you in half, where your knees bend, is pressed right against his traps, your heels graze the middle of his back. Now his thrusts have weight, uncovering spots that even you had no idea that existed inside of you. Tears of joy prickle in your eyes, calling upon whatever deity’s name you can think of, off the top of your head. You can swear his pace increases at the sight. It’s so intense a broken cry erupts from your throat.

He thrusts right into a sweet spot, which has you melting and trembling. Please is the only word your lips can form. At this point, you couldn’t care less about the lewd sounds of your skin slapping together or the squelching noises that make the whole act sloppy, shameless and primal, you only want to reach  your peak, and you’re not far from it as you’re clenching around him with a rhythm that you have no control over.

It crashes, it ruptures, sudden, sharp and hot like an electric spark. A scream empties your lungs, but Yuta muffles it with sealing his mouth onto yours. You feel yourself getting filled as you’re convulsing around his length.

After he fucks you through your orgasm you feel yourself shaking, your whole body is limp, numb, drifting slowly to sleep. You’re both soaked in sweat, your bodies stick together but there’s a need to bond further in each other’s embrace. You plant a kiss between his locks, praising him, telling him you love him. Satisfaction clouds your mind, like a soft, pillowy pink mist.

However, his cock is still not soft.

“I have no idea what has gotten into you.” you tell him, marveling, as you’re still catching on your breath. “I like it though, but you owe me an explanation.”

He handles you gently, like you’re some precious thing, made from glass, fragile. Your body is like a ragdoll’s, he has you lying on your stomach, lazily, flatly, you might as well fuse together with the mattress. Calloused fingers are drawing nonfigurative shapes on your shoulder blades.

“I’ll tell you right after we finish.”

Your blood runs cold for a moment.

“Again? Yuta, for the love of god I’m exhausted.” you whine.

He apologetically kisses your spine.

“Just this one, okay? Please? I’ll do all the work, I’ll make it quick. You only need to relax, you can sleep even.”

You want to tell him that sounds a little bit creepy, but you don’t have the strength to talk. He kisses the two shallow dimples right above your tailbone. His gaze lingers on your folds, admiring how red and swollen you are.

“If you manage to make me cum again, you deserve a fucking award.” you comment, face nuzzled into the pillow, your voice is obviously snarky.

You can feel teeth sinking into the flesh of your asscheek. The mark that is burning on your neck found it’s pair. He presses down your overly sensitive clit with his thumb, balancing the pain out with pleasure. But it gets overstimulated so easily, you feel the need to bite the pillow.

You brace yourself with a deep breath through your nose. You’re going to pay him back next time, you promise yourself that you’ll make a begging, crying mess out of him, and the thought makes you chuckle.

[sinsofsummers]

undone

2.2k | dbf!joel miller x f!reader

summary: joel miller worships the day you showed up braless to his fourth of july party. warnings: smut (of course), 18+, mdni. no outbreak au, fourth of july party (forgive him he's from texas), joel's pov, he's a dumb bitch, masturbation (m), pervy!joel but not really, age gap (reader is in her 20s, joel in his early 40s), slight religious slander (not extreme by any means!). note: this is just me dipping my toes into the dbf!joel universe, lemme know what you think! zero editing basically, i'm so sorry, there will probably be more drabbles for this. also this is consolation for the dumb shit holiday that is independence day in the us. i hate it here.

He's anything but religious; he hasn't gone to church since he was a kid. And yet...Joel Miller worships the day you went braless to his Fourth of July party.

Even now, laid in his bed with his arm thrown carelessly across his face and his fist curled tightly around his cock, he's not sure he'll ever recover.

Muffled grunts fall from his lips with every strained tug, and he's sure it sounds something like prayer. Considering the fact that you're as close to heaven as he'll ever get, he'll call it a fair assessment. If it's sacrilege to jerk off to the thought of his best friend's daughter every night...so be it.

He's never been one with any type of remarkable memory, but he knows that the image of your perfect chest peeking at him through the thin thank you'd worn that day would stick with him forever.

You'd blinked up at him with a grin, a bowl of fresh fruit salad prepared to share with the rest of the guests in your hands. A strand of hair had fallen into your eyes and he'd had to fight against every urge and keep his hand down at his side.

What he really wanted to do was brush your hair from your eyes (ever the gentleman), and then replace the spot where his fingers would touch your forehead with his lips. He'd always wondered what your hair might smell like, what shampoo you used in the morning, and how your skin looked when the suds ran down your body, rinsed down the drain.

What he wouldn't give to be the suds running down your radiant skin, to touch every curve and crevice of your body, the spots that never see the light of day.

He hadn't seen you since you'd gone to college. Well, not for more than a few days over your Christmas break each year, and even then...he'd made sure to steer clear of you. Tried to ignore the way your smile made his own stutter, how your arms were always so soft around his neck when you gave him the occasional hug.

How your eyes had begun to linger, just enough to make his jaw clench and his cock twitch.

A strangled sigh fights its way out of his chest as he remembers the events of that fateful party, and just how he's ended up here, cock in hand, your scent in his head, and your name on his tongue.

—

"Jesus Christ," he murmured when you and your dad showed up with your dishes to pass. The backyard had been strewn with red, white, and blue decorations, the perfect image of a typical Texan backyard celebration for Independence Day.

He'd been unable to hide his groan at the way the bright colors practically bled into his skull, but there was no other way to have a Fourth of July party, apparently. Of course, this was really just for tradition, and...well, his younger brother Tommy would have had his head if there weren't at least a few American flag streamers.

Your little white tank had already begun to cling to your skin in the Texas heat, the straps thin. Before he knew it, he was hoping that the sun would do him a favor and kiss your skin where he wished he could. That it might form those pretty little lines along your shoulders and give a warm glow to your face, evidence of your presence at his house, at his party, drinking his beer.

"Drunk already?" your dad's voice roused him from his momentary lapse in judgment and then Joel was getting tugged into a firm handshake and a clapped hand on his shoulder.

He tore his eyes from you and hoped that the pink in his cheeks (that was definitely there) could be mistaken for a quickly setting sunburn. He didn't want to think of what you might take his blush for if you noticed.

He chuckled, shaking his head and returning the handshake. “Hell no,” he answered hastily, “just gettin’ hungry for that fruit salad, man.” And the angel holding it. “Need a hand?” he asked you, forcing his eyes not to wander from yours.

Fuck. Your eyes were extra bright today, with the sun seemingly lighting them from the insides. And those cheeks? Already pink and sunkissed, just how he’d hoped they would be. He might have offered you some sunblock if he’d thought it was appropriate. Might have offered to help you spread it onto your smooth skin if he’d thought that was appropriate.

Of course, he’d be condemned to the darkest circle of hell if he let those thoughts run wild. So he trained his eyes on yours and waited for your response.

You shook your head and tucked your hair behind your ear. You squinted into the sun, an action that forced one eye closed, as if you were winking at him. “I’ve got it,” you said casually, “can I put it inside for now?” You adjusted your hold on the fruit salad, making your breasts shift under your shirt.

Joel nodded—fuck’s sake, he thought with the movement of your chest—and tilted his head toward the back door that led to the kitchen. “Go for it, Sarah’s already in there.”

Your dad had been called away by Tommy, so Joel was left in your quiet company. He watched your smile widen at the mention of his daughter’s name and felt his heart twinge. You were just a few years older than his daughter, and here he was, not only willing his cock to settle down at the sight of your nipples pressing against the cloth of your shirt, but also wishing that your smile widened at the mention of his name. 

Joel wasn’t quite sure what happened in the subsequent minute or how he moved so quickly. Before he knew it, you’d stepped closer to him and he’d stepped to the side, except he was really just getting in your way, and your eyes were widening in surprise, and then the bowl of fruit salad was shuffling in your grip and he was stumbling to get back out of your way and then—

“Shit,” you mumbled a curse. The juice from the contents of the bowl—mostly watermelon juice, it looked like—had splashed up onto your shirt, seeping through the white fabric and painting your chest a pale pink. You looked up, a careless smile replacing the distracted look on your face. “Don’t worry about it, Mr. M, really. I was gonna have to wash this shirt tonight anyway.”

“I—uh, I didn’t mean to,” was all he could come up with, and he could feel his face heating once more at the look on your face. “Shirt’s ruined. I’m sorry darlin’,” he mumbled—was the temperature increasing by the second?—and pretended not to notice the way your shirt clung even tighter to your chest. It was like a damn wet t-shirt contest, the way the darker shade of your nipples began to peek through the soiled fabric at him. He blinked and looked away, trying to ignore the way your smile had turned into a smirk. Have you caught him? 

You shrugged and passed the bowl to him. “No, it’s not,” you reassured him with a breathless chuckle. “I’m sure Sarah’s got a shirt or two I can wear.”

He’d been left standing with the bowl of your fruit salad as you’d trekked into the house, presumably to do as you’d said. When you came out just a few minutes later, he’d been talking to your dad and a few of the other neighbors that had come over. He’d almost completely forgotten about the incident, until you were there again, standing in front of him. 

In his shirt.

“Uh,” he said dumbly, not sure whether you knew whose shirt you were wearing, or if you’d gone into the wrong laundry pile.

You picked at the hem of the shirt, and he traced the lines of your long fingers with his eyes, practically seeing your sweet scent sink into the fabric. He hoped you could smell his cologne lingering on the collar as it licked against the soft skin of your neck. “Sarah found this in her closet,” you explained, “she said it was one of her sleep shirts.” You flitted your gaze to him, and he caught a glimmer of amusement in the depths of your eyes. “Smells kind of…”

Like me. He shivered despite the heat and tapped his finger on his hip to calm himself down. It smells like me, and now you’re gonna smell like me, angel.

“Like men’s cologne,” you finished with a smirk dancing on your lips. “You sure Sarah’s not bringing home any guys you don’t know about, Mr. Miller?”

He cocked an eyebrow and bit back a cutting remark. “‘Course not,” he said smoothly, “they’d never get past the front door.”

It was all he could do not to tug you onto his lap with his shirt hanging past your hips, giving the illusion that you weren’t wearing any shorts beneath it. Fuck, he had to get away from your father before he did anything he regretted. “Need another drink, anyone?” he offered, shifting his weight away from you in a failed attempt to get the thoughts out of his mind.

The others shook their heads, but you nodded. “I’ll get another, actually,” you said simply. And then he was stuck with you, his fingers itching to lift that shirt from your body and reveal that warm skin to his desperate mind.

The kitchen was empty—a small blessing—and Joel fished through the fridge for another beer. Handing one to you, he cherished the way your fingers brushed his as you pulled it from his grasp, the droplets of condensation running down the bottle like he knew the sweat was running down his back at the thoughts that swam through his mind.

“S’my shirt, you know,” he grumbled softly, not quite sure why he’d said it. Maybe it was to gauge what your reaction would be. Maybe he already hoped that you’d smile at the thought.

You looked down at the shirt, cheeks reddening. “It is?” you said quietly, the surprise unraveling in your voice. “I’m sorry, I can get another one—”

He waved a dismissive hand. “Nah, s’okay. Looks better on you than it does on me, anyway.”

“Oh.” Just one word, but he noticed the way your legs wobbled at the same time. The way the bottle slipped just a centimeter in your hand.

Gotcha, he smirked inwardly. 

—

Days have gone by, and he still thinks about that blush in your cheeks every night. He can’t help it when you just look so angelic in the shirt of a sinner like him. 

Joel’s hand squeezes his cock for all its worth as he strokes himself languidly, faint mumbles beginning to fall from his lips like the verses of a damn hymn. “So fuckin’ pretty,” he groans in the darkness of his room, feeling the pressure build in his body. With every muscle in his chest tensing, he lets a broken sigh escape his throat as he spills his hot seed into his hand, the picture of your face embedded in his mind’s eye. Laying there for a moment, he catches his breath as oxygen raggedly pushes itself in and out of his lungs.

And then he hears it. A knock. The front door, it sounds like.

He hastily cleans himself up, but the faint feeling of stickiness remains on his hand as he traipses down the stairs in the dark, wondering just who the hell would be knocking on his door so late at night. 

When he opens the door, he’s not exactly expecting to see the face he’d just come on his hand to. 

“Hey,” he chokes out, hiding his hand behind his back as if you might be able to see the evidence of sacrilege on his skin. He’s afraid you’ll be able to decipher the sweat on his forehead for the sinful act that it had come from just moments ago. “What’s up?”

“Oh!” you sound surprised at his answering the door, a fact that makes him smirk. “I’m just…I’m just here to return Sarah’s shirt,” you explain hastily. 

There it is, hanging from your loose grip, waiting for him to take it. “You mean mine,” he corrects gently, his grin widening as he feeds his hand up the frame of the door, hovering over you close enough that he can see your pupils widen and pulse at the proximity of his chest to yours.

Your mouth hangs open, just enough that he thinks about pushing his thumb in between your lips, up to the first knuckle. His mind goes wild at the thought of how warm and soft and wet your mouth would be around his fingers. How perfect it would be around even more.

He shoves the thoughts away as you nod. “Yeah,” you say with a breathless chuckle. “Yours, I mean. I don’t need it anymore, though. So…” your eyes drop to the shirt between you, your words trailing off.

Joel shakes his head. “Don’t need it back,” he says warmly. “Not yet, anyway. Keep it.”

You blink. “What?”

He shrugs, the thought of you wearing it more than once lighting his mind on fire. “Keep it for now. I’ll come to collect it some other time. No reason to return it in the dead of night, doll.”

Fuck. The nickname had slipped. 

But based on the way your lips curl at the corners, he’s dodged a bullet. “Okay,” you say softly, and he swears he can see the moon reflected in your eyes. “Just for a little longer, then.”

He nods and says goodnight, closing the door only when he can see that you’ve made it back to your house next door safely. The door shuts with a soft click, and he grins to himself. 

To hell with the shirt. Doesn’t matter to him. He’ll get it back eventually. And when he does, he plans to have it smell like you.

this ending was so rushed ahhhh i have to go to work!!! bye!!!! ty for reading and all the love!!!!

tagging here cause i have to goooo to workkkkk!!!

@mingiast @iluvurfather @cavillscurls @cupofjoel @thetriumphantpanda @morning-star-joy @sofiparallel @elegantduckturtle @evyiione @bitchwitch1981 @disassociation-daydreams @mrsquill @littlemisssluttyknee @papipascalispunk @mumma-moonchild @marchai @mlodanatka @xdaddysprincessxx @bongsrconfusing @tlouadditc @dinsdjrn @alejaa-a @daysilva2 @worhols @jellybeanxc @struig @cherryreddarbiter

[rodolfoparras]

Pairing: John Price x Male reader

Summary: in which price takes a liking to his son’s boyfriend

Cw: 18+, scent kink, age gap, pervert!price, masturbation, toys, price is a shitty dad :/

Price doesn’t have the best relationship with his son but in an attempt to mend it, he invites his son over to dinner, even tells him that he can bring you, his boyfriend, with him. Price would love to meet the person that has made his kid so happy.

However as soon as Price opens the door he’s at loss of words because he didn’t expect you to be so… hot. He finds himself eyeing your body, thighs squeezing together when your hands accidentally brush upon his when you hand him something, even finds himself stumbling over his words when talking to you

Fortunately dinner comes to an end and he breathes a sigh of relief when the two of you leave.

Price couldn’t be attracted to his son’s boyfriend , he just couldn’t, especially when that boyfriend is basically half his age. He just needed to get laid that’s what it is.

However no matter how many men he sleeps with he just can’t stop thinking about you.

He finds himself inviting his son to dinner more often, in hopes that you’ll come as well, which you usually do.

Obviously he can’t act on his feelings because you’re dating his son but but he finds other ways to quench his desires.

One time he’d offered to show you how to make his son’s favorite dish. The two of you were standing at the stove, so close, your crotch was basically rubbing upon his ass while he explained the recipe. And as you cooked, there were moments where you’d asked him to taste your food. He’d made a show when tasting everything, wether it be by licking the spoon clean or moaning loudly as the flavor hit his lip, even going as far as to heavily compliment you on your new found skill.

He’d be excited whenever you spent the night at his house. That would usually happen around holidays when you or his son would be too tired to drive back home. You had a certain habit of showering before bed and Price was more than happy to do your laundry “so that you can have clean clothes in the morning” or at least that’s what he said. But instead of washing your clothes like he had promised he’d have your boxers in his hand, nose buried in the crotch area while stroking his cock. The sound of his moans mingle with the tumbling sounds coming from the washing machine. It doesn’t take much before he’s tipping over the edge, cumming all over your boxers just as the load of laundry finishes.

There was even one time where he’d gotten a peak at your size. It had happened when he accidentally bumped into you while you were walking out of the bathroom , and wearing only a flimsy towel around your waist. Through the thin fabric he could see the outline of your dick, could see your happy trail on full display even the water drops trickling down your skin. Price felt his dick twitch, had rushed to his room to order a toy of the very same size and had used it on himself multiple times while imagining it was your cock pounding into his ass

However it never seemed to be enough for him and Price didn’t know how much longer he could suppress the desire bubbling up in his gut…

[throneofsapphics]

More nyx x sunshine readerrrr

Maybe she gets attacked or something

I need drama

misplaced chivalry 

Nyx x f!Reader

Summary: visiting with your family goes horribly wrong

Warnings: death, graphic depictions of violence, blood, minor injury, references to torture, a hint of angst & fluff, not proofread well

A/N: I did see your other ask, thank you for your request! I hope this hits the drama mark. same reader as ambushes and invitations, but they can be read separately !

Solstice with Nyx and his family was more than you could’ve imagined. Garlands, decorations, wine, food, music, and great company. 

Unfortunately, with the holiday over it meant it was time to do your annual obligatory trek back home. You managed to delay yourself two days before the guilt started creeping in. Estranged would be the best way to describe your relationship with your parents. They didn’t approve of your move to Velaris, or of your chosen profession. 

Trying to imagine the negativity flowing from your body, you took a few deep breaths before approaching the house. Outwardly, it was pleasant - normal. Red brick, a neat garden, a path leading right to the front door, a few chickens could be heard clucking from the coop behind the house. Absentmindedly, you wondered if your father ever got around to expanding that. 

Inside the house, it always felt strained - even before your relationship with them began to fall apart. There was still love, still good memories, and you put most of your conscious effort into focusing on that. It would be a good visit, and maybe things would begin to mend. Worst case you wouldn’t see them again. Your throat caught, despite the tension that’s the last thing you want. 

Three knocks on the wooden door, shaking out your knuckles, and you took a step back, rolling your shoulders and planting your feet like you were headed right into a conflict. 

Your mother answered the door, a worryingly pleasant smile on her face as she tugged you into her arms, squeezing tight. “You’ve grown so much,” she commented. 

Fighting back a wince or sharp retort, you beamed at her. “It’s good to see you.” 

She hummed, grabbing the crook of your elbow to lead you further inside. The scents of your childhood hit you at once, the vague smell of apple pie, old leather furniture, and something else you couldn’t quite place. 

“... made your favorite,” you hadn’t realized she was speaking and quickly added your thanks. Your father came in, shooting you a smile as well, and that was basically a warming welcome from him. 

Later, you realized just why they were being so pleasant. 

“Ella’s daughter completely cut them off,” your mother commented, shooting a nervous look your way. Right - they were scared you’d do the same. 

“That’s a shame,” you moved some food around on your plate. Not really, you figured she wouldn’t do it without a good reason. The night was pleasant - no judgemental comments about your profession or choice on where to live, no prying questions about your personal life or if you’d get married soon. When your mother nearly begged for you to spend the night, you decided it couldn’t hurt. 

-

Nyx knew you didn’t have the best relationship with your parents, and you’d declined his offer to come with you - outright - but he wanted to be there for you in some capacity. 

Your home village wasn’t terribly far from Velaris, and still in easy Daemati range, so he cast his mind out, searching and focusing on you, like his father taught him. 

“How’s it going?”

Around a minute later, “Surprisingly good, I’m going to spend the night.” 

He fought the disappointment that he wouldn’t see you later, and reminded himself to be happy for you. 

“Should I say good luck?” 

He could’ve sworn a soft laugh came through. “Maybe.” 

You filled him in on a few more details, and eventually he promised to check in the next morning, ignoring your gentle teasing, calling him a mother hen. 

-

It happened at breakfast before breakfast. The faint tang of copper filled your senses and you launched out of bed, reaching blindly for the knife Nyx had given you, well aware your knowledge extended to sticking the pointy end at them. 

First, your mothers body laid by the door, limbs sprawled at awkward angles, chest unmoving. The door was still open, the remains of a greeting still on her lips, the knife lodged in her throat. Scanning the room, it felt like time stopped, your entire world screeching to a halt. Three bodies laid on the floor, all dead. You heard one faint familiar heartbeat and scrambled down the stairs, feet sliding in the pools of blood. 

Wood splintered into your knees as you slid the last few feet to your father, the knife lodged in his chest. 

His eyes were half-glassed, knife lodged in his chest. You knew he’d killed the other three men. How had you not woken? Had he cast some kind of shield, now faded as life left him?

You gripped his hand tight, squeezing as his eyes focused. 

“Run,” his voice was hoarse, filled with pain. 

“I’ll get a healer,” the words were just above a whisper, told in vain - you both knew it was too late. 

“I’m proud to be your father,” one tear dripped down his cheek. The first tear you’d seen from him. 

“Stop,” you choked. 

“We both loved you very much,” the faintest squeeze, maybe just a twitch of his fingers. “Run.” 

“I’m not leaving you,” you snarled. Your magic had already cast a basic shield around the room. It wouldn’t hold under heavy assault, but you’d be damned if you let him … die alone. 

Maybe it was part of your nature, to accept the inevitable, to try and bring joy where you could, but you focused on him - repeating the happiest memories of your childhood until his chest stopped moving. Just then did you sob, as you closed his eyes. 

It was stupid to stay here, but you were in shock - you couldn’t leave.

-

It was normal for a short delay between responses, and he waited. A chime of the clock - five whole minutes, and nothing. It shouldn’t have taken this long, and he knew you wouldn’t ignore him. 

“Are you alright?” He tried. 

“Help,” the word was so bleak, your voice desolate and burdened in a way he’d never heard from you, your mind completely open. Fear struck him as he saw through your eyes, fear that could either freeze him in place or bring enough anger to topple mountains. Blood - everywhere, five bodies - two that looked like your parents, three others - and your hands. You were knelt on the floor, one hand still in the pool of blood, the other holding your fathers hand. He could imagine your wide eyes, stuck open in horror. 

One of the bodies was still moving - chest still breathing, rising to his feet, the knife lodged in his thigh, pulled out and already healing - and you didn’t know.

“Run, y/n, run.” Nothing. He needed to get you out of there. Panic he hadn’t felt before hit him. “I’m coming, love.”

In that second, as he was still watching through your eyes, there was just enough time for the man to slice at your back, movements uncoordinated, a strike designed to incapacitate - not kill. You dodged in time for the blade to slice across your shoulder. 

The next second, a wave of dark, pure night slammed him against the opposite wall with a loud crack. Bound in ropes of magic, he left him alive for now. For answers, later. He slid his arms under your shoulder, and he winnowed directly to the river house - right outside his father’s study, where he knew at least a few of his inner circle were gathered. You were limp in his arms, chest heaving with silent sobs, hands clenching at him like a lifeline. 

“I’m here,” he murmured, one hand running over your hair. There was no indication you heard his words. 

One arm held you close to him as the other banged on the door, his mind showing a sequence of the last few minutes to everyone inside. He was beyond words, too fucking angry to try and explain. 

The door flew open. His father, eyes a dark stormy night, anger rolling from him in waves, his mother’s anger matching, but switching to worry as she spotted you. Azriel and Mor were there as well, and Nyx vaguely registered his father grabbing them and disappearing. 

His mother gently ushered them inside, Nyx lifting you into his arms - your body nearly frozen. As magic healed the small gash on your shoulder, as it made the blood disappear, he still held you close, still ran his fingers through your hair and said over and over again, “i’m here, i’m with you, you’re safe,” even as his mind wandered towards how soon he’d be able to get revenge on your behalf - revenge he knew you’d never seek out. Gods, you were more likely to try and show them mercy. Like hell that would happen on his watch. 

“He said he was proud of me. He said he loved me. He cried.” Nyx jolted as you whispered, the first words in the last two hours. You’d fallen asleep on him - but he hadn’t moved an inch, not as people came and went out of the office. Nobody suggested he try and move you, nobody dared to get too close to you, not with his temper and protective instincts barely under wraps. As far as he knew, your father had never said those words to you. Nyx didn’t know how to reply, so he placed a kiss on your forehead. It was stupid to be mad at a dead male, but he wished the male would’ve told you as often as you deserved.

Nyx only left you alone after you were secured in a room warded as heavily as possible, impenetrable except by him or his family. 

“We’ll need to talk to her, eventually,” his mother said carefully. His fists clenched at his sides, but he nodded. 

“Did you get anything from the male?” 

“Azriel’s working,” his father replied, eyes searching his face. 

“I want to see,” Nyx insisted. 

“You don’t need to see that,” his mother argued, but his father held his hand out, understanding flashing in his eyes. Nothing he hadn’t seen before, but she was still protective. 

Apparently, his mother knew when she was fighting a losing battle. “I’ll keep an eye on her,” she promised. Nyx sent a grateful nod her way, and took his fathers hand. 

By the looks of it, Nyx knew Azriel was conducting a special symphony of pain - one reserved for those who’d hurt people close to him. He watched, leaned back against the stone wall - arms crossed, as each word was pulled out of the male, resisting the urge to filter through his mind. 

He waited to comment until Azriel packed up for the night, until the cell door had closed, a barrier in place - one the male wouldn’t hear beyond. 

“What are you thinking?” the shadowsinger offered - not a demand or command, but letting him know he’d listen. 

“They weren’t trying to kill her,” he tucked his hands into his pockets, hiding anger-induced shakes. “They wanted to get to me.” 

“Yes,” Azriel confirmed. Hearing it from another was worse than his own mind. Would you hate him now, resent him? Being with him put you in danger, and he couldn’t live with himself if something happened to you. 

Azriel read his expression easily enough - he was the only one who could. “Pulling away from her won’t keep her safe, not that they already know.”

Nyx exhaled slowly, “it’s my fault.” 

“No,” the other male said sharply, insistently. “You’re not to blame.” 

The words were futile, he’d keep blaming himself. 

-

“I’m so sorry,” Nyx’s hand ran over your hair, your eyes blinking to adjust to the sun streaming through the windows. Why was he sorry? He was sitting next to you, you were laid in an unfamiliar bed, but you knew the hunch in his shoulders, the worry in his eyes. 

The events of the previous day hit you, slamming into your mind, filling you with an unfathomable grief. 

“There’s no reason to be,” your voice was hoarse and rough. “You saved my life.” An uncomfortable silence filled the room for a few minutes, and for once you didn’t have the energy to break it. 

“It’s my fault they came for you,” you could feel the guilt in the statement, and knew exactly what was coming next. He’d try to leave - to ‘keep you safe.’ Nyx was stubborn as a mule, but this was something you wouldn’t budge on. Sure enough, he said, “you’re safer without me.” 

Planting your palms on the mattress, you pushed yourself up to sit - the remnants of the sleeping tonic making the movements slower than usual. It was misplaced chivalry, some kind of attempt for him to be noble and assuage unnecessary guilt. Usually you were slow to anger, but this was enough to piss you off. 

“Do you not like me anymore?” You asked. He blinked, surprised. “Are you not attracted to me?” 

“Of course I am,” he stumbled over the words. 

“Is there a valid reason you don’t want to be with me?” 

“It’s not safe-”

“I don’t care,” you insisted. 

“I can’t put you in danger,” he insisted. 

You weighed the next words carefully, deciding what would get the best reaction. “Are you scared, Nyx?” A muscle in his jaw flexed. “If that’s the only reason you want to leave me, I won’t accept it.”The steadfast look in his eyes wavered, and you knew you had your in. “Tell me you don’t want me anymore.” 

He shook his head. 

“Say it,” you insisted. 

“Of course I still want you,” he muttered. Evidently, he’d realized he wouldn’t get his way. Good. 

Your body swayed as you reached for him, and he grasped both of your shoulders to steady you. There was the slightest twinge in your shoulder, thanks to the wound from yesterday, but besides that you were in good shape. 

He noticed your small wince, and tried to move away, but you reached for him, cupping both of his cheeks, thumbs brushing over his cheekbones. Eyes fluttering shut, he let out a slow, slow breath. 

“Until you have a good reason, you’re stuck with me,” you murmured. 

“It’s not stuck,” Nyx groused, and rearranged the two of you, laying you down, head resting on his chest. 

You hummed in content. The grief would come later, but for now you could lean into this moment, lean into his quiet strength.

[greenwitchcrafts]

January 2024 Witch guide

Full Moon: January 25th

New moon: January 11th

Sabbats: None

January Wolf Moon

Known as: Bear Moon, Chaste Moon, Cold Moon, Disting Moon, Goose Moon, Moon of Little Winter,  Moon of Strong Cold, Quiet Moon, Snow Moon, Stay at Home Moon, Sun Has Not Strength to Thaw Moon & When Snow Blows Like Spirits In The Wind Moon

Element: Air

Zodiac: Capricorn & Aquarius

Nature spirits: Brownies & Gnomes

Deities: Freya, Hera, Innana & Saraswati

Animals: Coyote & fox

Birds: Blue Jay & pheasant

Trees: Birch & Hazel

Herbs: Cones, holy thistle &marjoram

Flowers: Crocus & Snowdrop

Scents: Mimosa & musk

Stones: Chrysoprase, garnet, hematite, moonstone, onyx & jet

Colors: Black, blue-violet, grey, silver & white

Energy: Adventurous, ambitious, awareness, beauty, beginning & conceiving; business, career, conserving energy, energy below the surface, organization, political matters, potential, protection, recognition, reputation, reversing spells & spirituality

The name for the January full Moon is believed to have originated from Celtic and Old English roots, which European settlers then brought to the New World.

At one point, gray wolves were among the most widespread land mammals on our planet. According to the Wolf Conversation Center, gray wolves “inhabited most of the available land in the Northern Hemisphere.” Habitat destruction and persecution by humans have reduced their range by about a third worldwide and 90 percent in the lower 48 states.

The wolf’s adaptable nature to survive in a wide range of habitats and ability to prey on the largest mammals living in those regions made it widespread. Basically, if there are enough deer, moose, elk, caribou, bison, and musk ox, wolves can survive. Predation of domestic animals caused friction with European settlers and early Americans who aggressively hunted the wolves.

Werewolf myths can be found in ancient Greek and Roman societies, throughout European history and among some Native American tribes. In modern storytelling the transformation from man to wolf has been closely tied to the full Moon in films like “The Wolf Man” and “American Werewolf In London.”

Howl at the Moon means to waste energy pursuing something unattainable. It’s shorthand for doing something crazy. However, howling is hardly a waste of energy among wolf packs. And they aren’t howling at the Moon. The Moon just happens to be shining during times when wolves most often howl.

A wolf’s howl can be heard miles away. The vocalization helps wolves locate separated members and even communicate between packs marking their territories. One study recorded spontaneous howls and responses happen most often between 11 p.m. and 6 a.m.

The cry of wolves doesn’t play into the Sioux name for the January full Moon, which is known as “The Time When Wolves Run Together.” Wolves do plenty of running to defend territory that can stretch hundreds of square miles to find enough prey to support the pack.

Other Celebrations

• Hogmanay | January 1st: is the Scots word for the last day of the old year and is synonymous with the celebration of the New Year in the Scottish manner. It is normally followed by further celebration on the morning of New Year's Day (1 January) and, in some cases, 2 January—a Scottish bank holiday. In a few contexts, the word Hogmanay is used more loosely to describe the entire period consisting of the last few days of the old year and the first few days of the new year. For instance, not all events held under the banner of Edinburgh's Hogmanay take place on 31 December.

The origins of Hogmanay are unclear, but it may be derived from Norse and Gaelic observances of the winter solstice. Customs vary throughout Scotland and usually include gift-giving and visiting the homes of friends and neighbours, with particular attention given to the first-foot, the first guest of the new year.

• Compitalia/ Feast of Lades | January 3-5: was an annual festival in honor of the Lares Compitales, household deities of the crossroads, to whom sacrifices were offered at the places where two or more ways met.

Dionysius said that Servius Tullius founded the festival, which he describes as it was celebrated in his time. Dionysius relates that the sacrifices consisted of honey-cakes (Ancient Greek: πέλανοι) presented by the inhabitants of each house; and that the people who assisted as ministering servants at the festival were not free men, but slaves, because the Lares took pleasure in the service of slaves. He further adds that the Compitalia were celebrated a few days after the Saturnalia with great splendor, and that the slaves on this occasion had full liberty to do as they pleased.

During the celebration of the festival, each family placed the statue of the underworld goddess Mania at the door of their house. They also hung up at their doors figures of wool representing men and women, accompanying them with humble requests that the Lares and Mania would be contented with those figures, and spare the people of the house

Sources:

Farmersalmanac.com

Llewellyn's Complete Book of Correspondences by Sandra Kines

A Witch's Book of Correspondences by Viktorija Briggs

Llewellyn's 2023 magical almanac: practical magic for everyday living

Wikipedia

Encyclopedia Britannica

[lexirosewrites]

For next Sunday.

Less of a story, more of an A/B/O conceptual conceit with a potential idea tacked onto the end. The same way that getting a really bad upper respiratory infection can make you susceptible to them for years and years afterwards: getting rejection sickness, either one really bad one, or a bunch of small ones, can make you permanently prone to developing it again.

So. Steve Harrington, whose parents were home often enough for Steve to hope, but gone enough for their scents to fade, has been dealing with whats basically chronic rejection sickness all his childhood. It gets a little easier when he has a long term nanny, not just omegas hired to watch him for a weekend here or there. Getting popular helps too. He has people around that way. Sports help a lot because whether its intentional or not, they all end up scenting like the rest of the team most days, and Steve builds a reputation for being too protective of his hair to shower in the school gym most of the time.

It's better than it was, but that doesn't mean he's cured. Pulling away from Carol and Tommy, who have functionally been his pack, messes with his health. He doesn't even like them, doesn't want them around, but they've been part of him for so long his body panics. He clings to Nancy to try to make up for it, but that's not who she is, and it doesn't really work.

Nancy breaking up with him fully crashes him into rejection sickness. It's bad. It's so bad.

Luckily, it hits over the holidays, and he gets a scrip from a doctor to make it run faster. Means he feels even worse during it, but by the time classes start, he's functional again. The kids help some. Robin helps a lot. It's chronic illness though, so there's random times when his parents are home for a week, then leave, and Robin isn't enough to fully prevent it.

Enter Eddie.

Maybe its the band touring. Maybe its Eddie going into WitSec. Maybe its just that the town isn't safe so he and Wayne move. And they're not together, not dating, not - technically - more than friends, but that doesn't stop Steve from getting sick.

Ohhh noooo my poor baby🥺 I just know that Eddie would feel terrible when he realized!!

[death-paint]

The Summoning (Spellbound pt.2)

Leon Kennedy x Fem! Witch! Reader

Word Count: 3427

Warnings: Smut, Daddy kink, unprotected p in v sex, thigh riding, clothed sex (kinda?? reader is in lingerie I'm not sure if that counts)

Summary: Leon gets busy during the holidays, having to leave for a mission just before Christmas. You do some holiday decorating while he's gone, and he gets to open his present a little early. ;) If it's a bit confusing, reader celebrates both Yule and Christmas.

I worked on this for about a week and finished it just last night, so I really hope it's still a decent piece of writing lol. I also don't write a bunch of smut so I hope that part is at least okay

Tysm @ghostkennedy for beta reading!! If you're into dark fics, Han's your gal. Go check out their writing!!

I suggest reading part 1 first! But it's not necessary <3

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. 18+ CONTENT

Edit: I made a playlist for this and part 1! Feel free to listen to it while you're reading!

dividers by @cafekitsune

A few months have passed since your first attempt to teach Leon the ways of your practice. Ever since then, he’s been asking you to make him protection spell jars whenever he has to leave for work, “just in case,” he says. It didn’t take a psychic to know that he was starting to believe it, even if it was just a tiny bit. Tarot card pullings are a part of both your daily routines now, and Leon was well on his way to learning their meanings.

Now, it was late December, and you were once again dancing around the house with incense, the scent of which still made Leon turn up his nose. But that didn’t matter right now. He was out “running errands,” no doubt gift shopping for your and Leon’s mutual friends. Or maybe he was out to pay a bill or two and get groceries, but either way, he was out of the house. Music blaring throughout your home once more, you spun and stomped and shimmied as you put up the Yule decorations. Small holly branches were in a vase on the dining table, a pentacle hidden in a wreath outside the front door, and a large fir tree in the corner of the living room. A few pine branches and pinecones sat atop the bookshelf and your altar in the living room, giving it a fresh scent. Candles were scattered about, almost no corner was without one. A gold one here, a red one over there, the odd green or white ones sprinkled around.

Leon was never much of a decorator, never saw the point of keeping material possessions, especially if he was basically on call for the government 24/7. It made it a little harder to tell what kinds of gifts Leon would appreciate. You only got him cologne and a new pair of gloves for his last birthday, figuring he’d appreciate a more useful present. He seemed happy with it, you caught a whiff of the cologne every time he kissed you; made your head spin. But once you came along and moved in with him, he found himself looking for little trinkets to bring back, most of which ended up displayed on your altar.

So, that’s why holiday decorations are usually up to you. Not that you minded, it was nice to have free reign over how the house looked, even if sometimes you were up at odd hours of the night nearly breaking your back to rearrange things. Literally. Leon had woken up once or twice to that, finding you on the kitchen counter or catching you from when you fell off of the bookshelf.

“You can do all that in the morning, baby,” he yawned, his groggy voice filled with concern as he rubbed his eyes. “And you can ask me to help, you know. Don’t need you breaking bones just to make the living room all pretty, doll.”

You spent hours getting everything to look perfect, saving the tree for when Leon got home. Gotta make it feel like he participated at least a little, right? Mistletoe hung just above the entrance to your home, a nice surprise for when your partner returned home. You sat in the kitchen, decorating a log at the dining table for a while before getting up and taking a break to make some cookies for you and your boyfriend to enjoy. Fun holiday cookies, with a bit of a witchy twist.

You washed your hands and gathered up the ingredients for the average person’s sugar cookies. But you were no average person. From the kitchen cupboard, you pulled a jar filled with dried lavender and a paper bag of rose petals. You stared at them a moment before deciding against the rose petals, putting them back. Do you make a syrup first, or just drop the lavender buds into the dough? Or do you simply wait and press the lavender in just before it goes into the oven? Thinking it over, you decided the best way to get what you wanted out of the cookies was to mix the flower buds into the dough, as it would better hide the texture while still being delightfully floral. So you do just that, sprinkling a little bit of lavender into the bowl and putting the jar back from where it came. You decide on fun little decorations, carefully arranging purple and green colored sugar into the shape of lavender on a few of the cookies before tossing them into the oven along with a few orange slices to dry out.

And then comes the sound of the door shutting.

“Looks like someone was busy today!” Leon calls from the doorway. You sprint over as fast as you can, quickly giving him a series of pecks all over his face. When he playfully raises an eyebrow at you in affectionate confusion, you point up at the ceiling above the door. He chuckles, amused as he sets a few bags on the floor. He then wraps his arms around you, pulling you in for a much slower, more passionate kiss, swaying along to the music coming from your phone hooked up to a speaker in the living room.

“How’d the errand running go?” You ask, curiously trying to peek inside of the bags that lay by Leon’s feet.

“It went just fine,” he replied, moving to block the bags from your sight. “No peeking. We’ll wrap the gifts together in a bit.” He took the bags and put them in a nearby cabinet. He took off his jacket, put it on the coat rack, and kicked his shoes off before making his way to the kitchen to wash his hands.

“Hey, what’s up with the wood on the table?”

“Oh!” You walk into the kitchen after him. “I was in the middle of decorating a Yule log!”

“Looks festive.” He moved the log to sit on top of the cabinet he put the gift bags in. “You really take the whole holiday decorating thing seriously, don’t you?”

“What can I say? I like making the place look pretty!�� You smile.

“Every room is a thousand times prettier the second you walk into it,” Leon kisses your forehead.

“Oh, shut up,” you scoff.

“What? It’s true!”

“You’re so fuckin’ cheesy.”

“Shut up, you love it.”

“Yeah, I do.” You sigh, hugging him.

The smell of lavender and citrus permeates the kitchen, and you release yourself from Leon to take the baking tray out of the oven. It lands on the top of the stove with a bit of a clatter, filling the room with its wonderful aroma a bit more strongly now.

“What’s that? Cookies?” Leon asks, sneaking up behind you, reaching out to grab a cookie and wiggling his fingers. You smack his hand away.

“You’re gonna burn yourself.” You warn him, shooting over a glare.

“If it’s something you made, it’s worth it.” Leon reaches around you, grabs a cookie, and immediately recoils, hissing in pain as he shakes his hand, dropping the cookie back onto the tray.

“Told you.” You smirk.

“That you did.” He walks to the sink to run his hand under cold water for a moment. Once he feels the pain has dulled enough, he makes his way back to you, wrapping his arms around you and kissing you on the forehead. “Well…since you’ve done a lot today, how about we order takeout? As a treat.”

“Okay. How’s pizza sound? Or…actually, maybe I want Chinese food…” You go back and forth between the two, thinking of the different reasons for each. Leon chuckles at your indecisiveness.

“We can do both. You’ve earned it, doll.” Even after you’ve lost count of how many times he’s used the pet name, it still makes your face turn beet red.

“You spoil me.”

“That’s my job.”

And so the two of you sat in the newly redecorated living room, sifting through all the different ornaments to decorate the tree as you waited for your food to arrive. Leon of course was in charge of the star, him being the taller one in the house. Dried citrus slices, cinnamon, and other natural decorations hung from the branches, along with several sparkling garlands, glass pixies, and snowflakes. By the time you got to wrapping the colorful lights around the fake evergreen, the doorbell rang, signaling it was about time for a break.

Neither of you bothered to grab plates, agreeing that neither of you wanted to do dishes tonight. Instead, you opted to just use the plastic forks that came with the bag of takeout containers, and ate the pizza straight from the box as you stared up at the television screen, watching whatever Christmas movie happened to be on. At some point, you hopped back off the couch, finishing up the tree and glancing up at the TV every so often.

Now it was Christmas Eve, and some grinch of a bioterrorist had Leon off to work again. Can’t they take the day off too? Take a break from trying to destroy the world and all that when you’re trying to spend time with your boyfriend? Fucking rude. But the fact of the matter was that they don’t give a fuck, and you had to sit at home, waiting, unsure of his safety, as he couldn’t text you while he was out. In your boredom, you had the idea to come up with yet another surprise for him. You grin devilishly, deciding to go shopping for Leon’s present.

After breakfast, you headed out for the nearest department store, browsing the aisles for hours before settling on a cute floral set that was a bit heavier on the greens. You tossed an elf hat into the basket as well as a few other things you thought Leon might like. A few bows tossed in at the last second, and you were on your way back home. As soon as you got inside, you wrapped all your gifts (aside from the lingerie) and placed them underneath the tree. The rest of your day was rather uneventful. You took a nap around two o’clock in the afternoon, had leftovers for dinner, nothing special.

And then came the text.

Of course, you hadn’t been expecting one, especially not from your boyfriend. Not so soon. Guess it either wasn’t that big of a threat, or he had help. Or maybe he was just that good. Or all of the above. Whatever the cause of his early return was didn’t really matter, it just meant you’d be able to see the look on his face sooner than you’d anticipated. Giggling and giddy with excitement, you slipped on the lingerie set, hat, and some festive stockings you had hidden in a drawer somewhere. You stuck one of the ribbons on your chest above your heart, turned on the lights of the tree, and assumed your place underneath it, waiting patiently for Leon’s return.

Quite some time after you first sat, you were halfway to falling asleep when you heard the lock click open, signaling your partner's return. At first, Leon didn't seem to notice, assuming that the lack of light (aside from the tree) meant you were in bed. It was your hair getting caught on a branch that made him look over.

“Oh? Look what we have here…” Leon knelt down to your level after taking off his jacket and shoes, reaching out to touch your face. “A naughty little elf, wrapped up nice and pretty for me.” He moved his hand to rest underneath your chin, his thumb just underneath your bottom lip as he gently tilted your face up to look at him. You felt yourself slip into that hazy headspace the second the words left his mouth, your teeth gently tugging at your lip as your eyes met his. He chuckled upon seeing your expression, untangled your hair from the tree, and threw you over his shoulder to carry you to bed, your hat lying forgotten somewhere on the living room floor. Once he reached your shared bedroom, Leon gently dropped you on top of the mattress, watching as you looked up at him, glassy-eyed and cheeks flushed.

“Aw…pretty baby. Been waiting for me all night, haven’t you?” You nodded, a small whine leaving your lips. “Come on doll, use your words.”

“Yes, Daddy…missed you so much,” you pout, pretty doe eyes meeting his baby blues.

“That’s my girl.” Leon sits on the bed, one knee between your thighs, and one hand under your chin as he leans down to kiss you, the other supporting his weight. Slowly, the hand on your face moves to snake around your back, gently coaxing you to sit up on his leg. You clung to him, breasts pressing into his chest as your lips moved over one another’s hungrily. Leon’s hand wandered lower, giving your ass a squeeze. He quietly laughed as you jumped at the sudden sensation.

“God, you’re fucking beautiful. I don’t even wanna take this off…” Leon slid his thumb underneath the strap of your lacy bralette, letting it slip off and hit your skin with a snap.

“Then don’t,” you breathed. Leon thought it over for a beat, a smile overtaking his features.

“My pretty little angel…you’ve always been such a smart girl.” Shivers run down your spine as Leon pulls you in for another heated kiss.

As you tangled your fingers in his hair, he slid one of his own hands underneath the fabric of your bralette, kneading your soft flesh. Slick pooled in your new lacy panties, and you slowly started to drag your clothed cunt back and forth against the rough texture of Leon’s jeans.

“Aw…gonna make a mess all over my pants, baby?” He coos, both of his hands on your hips now. 

“Mhm!” You nod, continuing to roll your hips, your voice high-pitched and whiny.

“Such a needy little girl.” Leon teased. “Go ahead, baby. Show Daddy how bad you need him.”

You found it hard to keep your head on straight as your hips started to move faster, Leon’s hands helping you get enough pressure on your bundle of nerves. Your arms hung around his neck, a dazed look on your face as you tried desperately to get yourself off. Leon always thought you looked adorable like this–made him that much more eager to bury his cock inside your soaking wet pussy. Seeing your expression, he felt his cock twitch in his pants. You looked so pretty, so desperate. He almost didn’t want to wait anymore–had to remind himself to be patient. Needed to be sure you’d be ready for him.

Your face did little to hide the pleasure you felt, the delicious friction of your clit moving back and forth on the denim nearly too much to bear. You clung to Leon a little tighter, the fire in your lower body dangerously close to spilling over.

“Le- fuck…Leon!” you cried out, voice quivering.

“Go ahead, doll. Be a good girl and cum on my lap, baby.” One of Leon’s hands comes back to your face to wipe away a tear that slipped its way down your cheek, moving to guide your face to kiss him once more. Your hips rolled harder and faster a few more times as you whimpered and moaned into his mouth, your orgasm burning through your body and leaving you shaking as Leon guided your hips to ride it out.

“My sweet angel…you did so well, sweetheart.” He caressed your body after it was over, hands lingering near your ass and soft breasts. “Guess I should give my pretty baby what she’s been waiting for, yeah?” You nodded in response, prompting an expecting look from Leon.

“Yes, please, Daddy! Been waiting so long!” Your face falls into that adorable pout again. God, it made Leon want to fuck you endlessly, so hard you wouldn’t recover for weeks. He pushed you to lie on your back, standing up to undress. Leon did his best to make a show of it, but undressed rather quickly, eager to feel your hot, wet pussy around his cock.

Your breathing picked up again as you watched him, eyes trailing over his hands as they unbuckled his belt with a few satisfying clinks. The sound had you rubbing your thighs together with anticipation. Fuck, you needed him so, so bad.

Leon, sensing your impatience, hurried to kick off the rest of his clothing, rushing back to the bed to kiss you, his body hanging over your own. The heat of his body against yours felt so nice as he reached down between the two of you to feel how wet you were. You were absolutely drenched, and he'd hardly even touched you! He smirked as his fingers delved into your slick, embarrassing wet sounds filling the bedroom.

“Leon…please…” you whined, holding back from fucking yourself on his fingers. “No more teasing…”

“So my little doll can ask for what she wants!” He pulled his hand away from your core, wrapping it around the base of his thick, hard cock. His other hand pushed your panties to the side, and he stared for a moment at your glistening folds before guiding the head of his dick to sit at your entrance. “God, it gets even more beautiful every time I look at it, baby. Love seeing how wet I can make you.” He murmured, burying his length inside of you. The two of you sat in silence for a few seconds, giving you time to adjust to the feeling of him stretching out your tight hole. You rolled your hips up into his, signaling you were ready for him to move.

He set as steady a pace as he could, finding it hard not to just pound into you as soon as he slipped in. He'd missed you while he was out. Wanted–no, needed to feel your skin on his for days. The way you pushed yourself back to him wasn't exactly helping, either. Gradually, he picked up the pace, the head of his length hitting your sweet spot and making your pussy squeeze around him, sucking his cock in deeper.

“Shit…keep squeezing me like that and I won't be able to last much longer, angel.”

“Can't help it, Daddy…feels so good…”

Leon leaned in closer, pushing your legs to your chest in a mating press, his thrusts pushing his cock so deep you damn near felt him in your throat, leaving you breathlessly moaning as he rolled his hips. Your eyes rolled back, tongue lolling out pathetically as Leon’s thumb circled your clit, making you see stars.

“Fuck- daddy! Daddy please!” Your cunt pulsing around his cock was driving him insane, he was so close to the edge, just needed to bring you there with him.

“I know, baby girl, I know,” he purred. “Need you to wait for me, okay? Gotta be a good girl and wait until I say.” You only whimpered and nodded, unsure if you could speak any further.

Leon's thumb kept stroking your throbbing clit, your pussy clenching around his shaft was fucking heaven. His thrusts stuttered, cock twitching inside your walls.

“Cum for me, angel,” he pounded into you harder and faster now, his cock hitting your g-spot nearly perfectly every time it plunged back into your cunt. 

“Daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy” was all you could say as your body twitched and writhed, the wet slapping of your bodies together sending you over the edge.

“Fuck, that's it. Yeah, that's my good girl,” Leon grunted, groaning loudly as your pussy milked his cock, making him spurt his hot, thick load deep inside. “So good for me. Love you so much, baby.” He kissed your forehead as he slipped his cock out from your hole, using his fingers to stuff his cum back inside. He steps out of the room for a minute, hurrying back with a couple of water bottles. He helps you sit up, handing you a bottle.

“Thank you, Leon.” You open the water bottle and take a sip.

“Anything for my pretty girl.” Leon smiles, climbing into bed beside you. “You okay?”

“Mhm. Just…” your sentence is interrupted by a big yawn. “Sleepy.”

“I think some cuddles are in order then, yeah?”

“That sounds perfect.” You yawn again, snuggling up to him, and laying your head on his chest. “I love you, Leon.”

“Love you too, baby.” he wraps his arms around you as you both happily drift off to sleep.

[kissitbttr]

hello! i read you miss having asks and i don't know if you maybe miss having some requests (in case you aren't taking any you can ignore this and i hope you'll have a good day <3)

but what about some domestic Miguel and spending your first Christmas together? just imagine sitting on the couch in front of the TV, with a blanket covering both of you, watching some way too romantic soap opera, while drinking some hot chocolate and just enjoy the moment <3

(i know this is so early and we are still in November, but I swear, I can already feel the nostalgic feeling of Christmas </3)

xmas with miggy? say no more baby!!

-

it is absolutely one of your favorite holiday, ever. the music, the decorations, the presents for your loved ones, the cooking and baking. everything about christmas just screams fairytale,

miguel has never been the one who’s fond of this specific holiday, or any holiday for that matter. he would drown himself in work to avoid any invitations from friends. sad but anything to get away from interacting with strangers.

now ever since you stepped into his life, he can’t help but see how this year’s christmas would be different. having you with him to celebrate together just changes his perspectives. now he has someone to hold and love, this christmas would bring joy into his life.

you and him had been pretty busy with the decorations and stuff. buying a Christmas tree, getting pretty ornaments, looking for presents etc.

“need a hand, baby?” miguel steps into the kitchen, seeing you take out fresh cookies from the oven. you look so… comfy. dressed in his old t-shirt with your hair tied up in a bun—his clothing is basically a dress so there’s no need to be putting on some pants other than underwear—

you nod, looking up at him before setting the cookies on the counter. “can you put those hot chocolates on the table, my love?” you ask with a smile,

his heart soars at the nickname before grabbing the two cups of hot cocoa with tiny pink marshmallows in them. “you pick or i pick the movie?”

you’re quick to raise your hand in a child-like manner, causing him to laugh. “me, duh!” you answer as if it’s the most obvious thing. “we’re tuning in The Mafia Dolls and La Reina Del Sur”

miguel groans at the choice, shaking his head as he put the tray down on the table before grabbing a blanket. “you just want to watch Kate Del Castillo because you have a crush on her” he points out,

shrugging you showcase an expression of no shame. “she’s hot. you know i would leave your ass for her”

miguel jaw drops open, hand over his heart as he watches you stifle a giggle. “i’ve had enough time dealing with men trying to hit on you on a daily basis and now i have to compete with Kate Del Castillo too?!”

“her and Eva Mendes” you nod, arms crossed, smiling to yourself as he rolls his eyes before throwing you a playful glare and sit on the couch. “you’re going to pay for that comment”

you give him a cheeky smile. grabbing two cookies as you stride towards him, his large arm coming to wrap itself around your waist. he gently pulls you down on the couch, letting your head rest against his chest as you feed him a cookie.

“mhmm” he hums in approval. “new recipe?”

“yeah. you like? grandma sent the recipe to me. said that i have to treat my man something nice every once in a while” you giggle to yourself as he put his arm behind you. his lips plants a kiss on top of your head.

“tell her i said thank you” he mumbles as he turns on the tv. “i like this you know?”

a hum rumbles from you as you lay your back comfortably against him, taking another bite of the cookie. “what is?”

then he smiles, eyes landing on you. his fingers move to stroke your soft hair gently, catching that sweet scent of your strawberry mint shampoo that he finds obsessed over.

miguel can’t exactly remember when he had something like this. probably in his childhood? not quite sure. even if it was true, he doubts that it’s actually memorable. he remembers there were a lot of screaming match and broken plates though. maybe that’s why he avoids christmas like a plague. it was never magical.

but you… oh god, you.

you changed it for the better. the decorating christmas tree, wrapping up presents for each other, counting fails at an attempt to create gingerbread house, cooking up delicious traditional food instead of unseasoned dish that he sees people are making. and it might not be a big christmas party like in movies or how his co-workers do it, but that’s okay really. that’s just how he prefers it.

you, him and christmas.

“being with you” he responds, not minding the chatters coming from the tv. “estoy agradecido por ti, princesa”

“so, so grateful” he mumbles, pressing another quick kiss on your temple.

his words cause your gaze to soften. you slowly turn your head to look up to him from the tv, who’s eyes glued into the screen. your heart warms at the sight of miguel being comfortable with you, a small smile attached to his face.

leaning forward, you give him a soft kiss on the corner of his lips. he sighs out of contentment at the gesture, hand around your waist tighten.

“i’m grateful for you too.”

-

aaa this feels like it’s rushed but i hope u like it anon! I’m sorry it took too long:(

[eternal-kosmo-ghoul]

*°:⋆ₓₒ day 1. lingerie

.｡❅*⋆⍋*∞*｡ “all dolled up”

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ — ❤︎ you wanted to look extra pretty for phantom on the holiday season

pairing: phantom ghoul x afab!reader

a/n: let’s kick off this seasonal event with our favorite bug :)

cw: nsfw content. lingerie. phantom going feral for reader.

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“gorgeous little thing… all dolled up just for me. ohhh you’re going to make me lose it with how damn good you look.” —❤︎

┅✦┅

what a nice way to celebrate the seasonal festivities this year.

slipping on the last piece of laced fabric, a satisfied sigh escaped your lips as you checked yourself out in the mirror, admiring how your body looked.

“damn, i picked the perfect one.” you whispered to yourself, whistling as you traced your body gently with the tips of your fingers.

you were right, the lingerie you picked out looked hella fine on you. the white laced fabric hugged your body snuggly, highlighting every dip and curve, while still leaving a fair amount of exposed skin out in the open to just tease anyone who got as much as a glance.

the pretty little laced stockings just added to the look, creating a delicate look on your body, but it kept that seductive charm to it. the perfect blend of sweet innocence and spicy flair.

you looked like an angel. an extremely sexy one at that.

oh phantom was going to love how this looked on you.

he’s been so busy with the band, and the annual cheers of christmas were one of the only few times he could have a day off.

despite his demonic heritage making christmas rather frightening for a ghoul like phantom, he enjoys the quality time he gets to spend with you over his well earned and deserved vacation.

and you were going to make it extra special for him.

tying up the last ribbon on your laced arm warmers, the lingerie was just the finishing touch to this gift. you looked hot, and damn did you know it.

“oh he’s so gonna ruin his pants over this.” you snickered mischievously to yourself, running your smooth fingertips over the exposed skin on your thigh.

now it was time to set the stage for a warm, cozy and steamy night.

gathering a few things in a nicely wrapped up shoebox, you pulled out a container of rose petals, scented candles and a lighter. fluffing up the comforter on phantom’s bed, you scattered scarlet red rose petals across his bed to set the mood.

the candles all had scents related to nature and winter, but none of the smells were too strong to ruin the setting of this risqué abode. lighting the candles and setting them in candle holders, you carefully laid out each candle on a surface away from flammable objects, but were placed in a way that made the atmosphere even more alluring than it was before.

you laid down on the bed, head resting against the pillow as you posed in various angles. now, there was only one missing puzzle piece to this perfect surprise.

phantom himself.

but you were patient, you could wait.

the reward would only be more fulfilling if you did anyways.

spreading your legs slightly, you leaned back and rested your hands between your thighs, just testing out different positions to see what would get phantom the most riled up.

legs in the air? nah.. that’s too provocative for the start, something more subtle maybe. arms behind your head? no… that was too basic, at least in your textbook definition of basic.

on your stomach? now that’s a pose.

you laid flat on your stomach, hands clasped gently underneath your chin, perching your head up at the door where you were anticipating for a certain bugger to walk through.

your legs were crossed. this will definitely be a night to remember alright.

you could barely contain your smile, and just laid on phantom’s bed, looking as adorable as ever. your mind was already envisioning the different things phantom was going to do to you.

was he going to flip you over doggy style and push your head down in his pillow, forcing you to take him from behind? rip up that pearly white lingerie like a starving man and just eat up your cunt? perhaps he might even force you down on his him, make you gag on his dick until your vision was blurred and you were seeing nothing but stars.

you didn’t oppose to any of those ideas, as long as you and him got to feel good this year, that’s all that mattered.

and it seems that santa has heeded your wishes, because the faint sound of keys jingling together and a lock opening indicated that your ghoulish lover was home.

staying in your suggestive pose, you smirked devilishly as you watched the door to phantom’s door open.

there stood the quintessence ghoul, a little dazed from his guitar work, but when he fully took in his surroundings, his jaw hung wide open.

he even dropped a bag of what you could safely assume to be christmas presents.

phantom was just awestruck and absolutely dazed at the same time. he felt like he was being seduced by some sort of ancient, seductive deity.

goddamn did he like what he was seeing.

“merry christmas?” you asked, but your tone was very much amused.

“fuck.” is all phantom could utter out, inching closer to the bed, completely forgetting about the bags he was holding.

“well… i mean, if you want to then sure.” you teased, and phantom scoffed, rolling his eyes playfully.

“you little minx, you and that dirty tongue of yours.” phantom chided back, practically pouncing on the bed and crawling towards you.

you got up from your stomach and backed away from him on the bed, still holding that teasing gaze. it was like you were just begging to be taken already.

phantom’s calloused claws reached to grasp the soft, plump flesh of your skin, sighing delightfully as he kneaded the skin lustfully.

“fuck, doll face… where did you even get something like this?” phantom practically panted out, his slitted tongue tickling your earlobe.

“mmmh… secret.” you giggled. “let’s just say… aurora helped me out a bit.”

“of course she did. that little freak always has tricks up her sleeves.”

the quintessence ghoul just couldn’t resist, he attacked your neck with kisses and bites, lavishing your skin while he relishes the tiny gasps and moans you were making.

he smirked into your skin and continued.

“though i gotta say… she definitely did a good job.” phantom whispered into your neck. his tail tucking underneath your laced stockings and lifting up the fabric before letting it go and feeling it snap back onto your skin.

“gorgeous little thing… all dolled up just for me. ohhh you’re going to make me lose it with how damn good you look.” he praised, and his words left you melting.

phantom’s lips planted a soft kiss on your own lips, before he moved one of his hands to gently grip your jaw.

“white is definitely your color.” he growled out. “you look so hot, it makes me wanna do sooo many bad things to you.”

“heh, and you called me a minx. you’re getting riled up and hard over what i’m wearing.”

phantom just scowls and attacks your neck again, nipping upwards until he reaches your jawline, to where he starts attacking it with kisses and bites. he pushes you down on the bed and smirks.

“shut up.” he jeers with a lustful tone, pushing his hips between your legs. “you wanted me to be like this. wanted to get me all hot and bothered so i can fuck you like a goddamn animal.”

he pushes his erect, clothed cock against your delicate white panties, rubbing his hardness against your wetness, groaning in pure excitement as he watches you squirm beneath him.

“ahh.. and it seems the little minx wants to be fucked like an animal too.” phantom teases, and you just scoffed.

“oh fuck off.” you retorted. “hnngh… i wanna know what you got me for christmas at least..”

phantom chuckled.

“well, i got you something… rather risqué too.” he snickered. “i guess great minds think alike, eh?”

you perked up at this mention, and your eyes flickered over to the gift bags on the floor that phantom dropped. through whines and whimpers, you managed to utter out.

“nngh… what’s in the gift bag?” you asked, smirking as you already had an idea of what kind of gift phantom had gotten you.

the guitarist only mirrored your devilish grin and used his tail to grab onto the handles of the gift bag. reaching his hand in it, he pulled out a pair of fuzzy handcuffs.

giving you a lustful and needy look, phantom proposed an offer. “so, do you wanna make a mess?”

you couldn’t resist the idea. let’s make this a christmas to remember.

“damn right i do.” you finished off.

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[esmedelacroix]

Coffee Shop Love Pt.7

pairing: miguel o'hara x f!reader

summary: He's as stern and cold as the snow falling from the sky blanketing the bustling streets of Nueva York, Miguel O'Hara stumbles upon a hidden gem of a coffee shop just around the corner from Alchemax. Only problem is the annoying-as-shit smiley-ass barista.

contents: slow burn, no use of y/n, fluffy, not proofread,

author's note: Hey lovies, I've had so much fun writing this series. I'm very happy that so many people like my writing. I'm trying to improve always in my English skills so I hope they are good. I hope you love this finale as much as I do, enjoy...

word count: 1.1k

Pt.1, Pt.2, Pt.3, Pt.4, Pt. 5, Pt.6, Pt.7, Sequel: Sweet Tooth

There he was standing at the entrance not even willing to listen to what you had to say. Miguel holding up his hand for you to stop taking was like a smack in the face. You had basically confessed to him, confirming the verity of the contents of your voicemail, and his response was for you to stop?

"Come here Baby," he muttered in a low tone. You slowly and cautiously walked up to him. You faced him where he stood right in front of the entrance.

"Look up," he commanded gently.

Then you saw it. The reason for him running back into the store. The reason why he wouldn't even walk all the way into the store to speak to you about your confession. Those bright green leaves with the red ribbon. He had planned it all. Of course he did, you were both standing under the mistletoe. The very mistletoe hat had gotten his hair caught in all the time. The very mistletoe you had both stood under together staring at each other once; before awkwardly dispersing. Only this time Miguel had brought you here.

"Someone told me once, that they were a great kisser, but I lacked the holiday cheer to get a smooch," he started causing you to giggle at the reference. He held intimate eye contact with you while pulling you closer by your waist. "Kiss me, Baby," he muttered.

And so you did. You got on your tippy toes and kissed him. It was short and sweet. But too prompt for Miguel's liking; he had been waiting far too long to kiss you. So he cupped your cheeks with his hands and pressed his lips to yours.

His kiss was like a mix of want and need, and you could practically taste the craving. Your heart was doing a marathon, keeping up with the rhythm of his passionate kiss, like a beat that had a mind of its own. His hands, calloused and warm, traced the contours of your face, leaving a trail of sensation that burned like the touch of a summer sun. In that stolen moment, it was like the world outside had just disappeared, and you were caught up in this whirlwind of feelings where the line between you and him was blurred. The scent of his cologne mingled with the raw scent of shared breaths, creating a symphony that encapsulated the intensity of the connection. The world outside ceased to exist, and in that fervent embrace, you were enveloped in the sweet frenzy of a kiss that transcended the ordinary into the realm of the extraordinary.

The two of you pulled away to catch your breath. Your face immediately heated up thinking about what had just conspired between the two of you. "That was—" Miguel started.

"—magical" you sighed as you turned into putty in his arms.

"I'm really happy you chose to send that voicemail. I was thinking the same thing as you. I just didn't know how to tell you without scaring you away. I'd rather live with my feelings for you haunting me than lose you as a friend," he confessed.

You suddenly wrapped your arms around him resting your head against his chest. He hugged you back rubbing your back with his big hand. You both pulled away to look at each other with the comfortable silence embracing the two of you. "It's already so late, would you like to stay over?" you asked as you fidgeted with your hair.

"Yes I would love to," he replied.

The two of you went straight to bed that night. After taking your shower you sat up on your bed waiting for him to come out, while processing everything that had happened. You were fatigued but you wanted to wait for him to hold you like he had before. Your eyes were practically shut but were trying your hardest to stay awake.

The bathroom door finally swung open and Miguel walked into your bedroom to see you struggling to stay awake. "Were you waiting for me?" he asked as he walked over to the bed. You nodded your head and spread your arms out waiting for him to come and cuddle. He cuddled at your cute action. Just then you felt part of the bed sink in, compelling you to mile softly.

You could feel his presence even when he wasn't touching you yet. He finally took you in his arms and laid you down against him. You rested your head against his chest, you could hear his heartbeat. It was slow and relaxing.

There was something different about the night. Miguel was running his hand through your hair and patting your head. All you could feel was an incredible sense of warmth. For once you didn't feel cold in bed. Maybe all you needed to cure your sensitivity to the cold was someone to hold you at night.

For the first time in forever, you slept in complete peace. Wholly protected from the cold by Miguel.

The next morning Miguel left for work with a hot black coffee, a muffin, and a kiss. Even the neighbors picked up on how upbeat you were feeling that day.

The following night while you sat at your shop waiting for Miguel to walk through the doors you couldn't help but fantasize about your blooming relationship with him. Your love life was finally blooming into something beautiful and—JINGLE! JINGLE! You looked up to see Miguel walking in with a grin.

"Welcome to Mug & Muffin, what can I make you tonight?" you asked looking up at him with a sweet smile.

"Could I get a kiss from a smokin' hot barista?" he quipped.

You ran around the counter and wrapped your arms around his neck to give him a kiss. You kissed him like you hadn't seen him in years. He suddenly lifted you up onto the counter and trapped you between his arms. You squealed and giggled hitting his shoulder playfully. He rubbed circles in his hips slowly and kissed you sweet and slow. He kissed you sweet and slow and you felt the world around you melt away. "Alright that's enough, I made you a drink," you said.

You hopped off the counter, got your own drink, and sat at his favorite table with him. You couldn't help but feel the warmth of the love that had blossomed between you and Miguel inside the warm confines of your coffee shop as you both sat there, enjoying your Christmas brews.

Next Sequel: Sweet Tooth...

taglist:

@iite-cool@jewelz-teehe@br0-please@thesilenthill@d1lf-loverrr@corpsebridenightamare@laysmt@bitchystrawberrystudent@lotionlamp@local-mr-frog@scaleniusrm@migueloharastruelove@thedevax@veyveys @amber-content@3zae-zae3@simmerarmy

[rdngl]

NOW PLAYING: VERSACE ON THE FLOOR

girl you know, you're perfect from your head down to your heels. (basically, them going so lovestruck.)

featuring: childe, wriothesley, albedo, neuvillette and diluc

warnings: very ooc, established relationships, mostly leans towards fem!reader, slightly suggestive but not really, no betaaaa, might have grammatical errors and typosss

notes: screaming and crying—reblogs are GREATLY APPRECIATED, as well as feedbacks. TAGLIST IS OPENNNN

masterlist | holiday event

childe, who almost lost balance as he caught a glimpse of you—your locks gently dancing with the breeze, your skin glistening under the blazing afternoon sun of liyue harbour, your face- goodness, your face. he felt heat all over his cheeks and a slight ticklish feeling in his ear.

‘gods, was it the sun? or you?’ childe chuckled at his thought, before walking towards you—a wide smile plastered on his face. he's just glad you're his.

wriothesley, whose breath hitches at the sight of you. his fingertips twitching against his desk as he marvels at your gorgeous...very gorgeous face, your style, your body then to your face again, your lips, your beautiful voice calling his name—but he doesn't care. he's practically salivating at this point.

“...wriothesley!” that made him almost jump in shock. you chuckled, knowing damn well what he was thinking. wriothesley grinned, he knows he's been caught...again.

albedo, who sketches you whenever he has free time or he's genuinely starstruck that his hands unconsciously reaches for his sketchbook and pencil and just start sketching with his eyes still on you. afterwards, if it doesn't reach his standards, he'll redraw it, perfectly this time.

perhaps when the day arrives, albedo will give you the sketchbook filled with your portraits and sketches—but now, he just has to revel in this moment, recalling how you exactly looked at that one moment over and over in his head with every stroke of his pencil.

neuvillette, who wonders how he's able to feel this tingly, quite heart-dropping feeling (but in a good way) in his stomach for long periods, especially when he's with you. it doesn't even need to be you touching him or being near you—just the sight of you alone is enough for him to feel this way.

and gods, who wouldn't? it's you he's talking about—marvellous, filled with determination, kind, can put up with him, has a pretty face, gentle touch, nice scent and- ahem. but his point still stands, he's just confused.

was it the way your hand gently grasped his? the concern written all over your gorgeous face? how your voice sounded like when you asked him why he went home wounded? diluc doesn't know. his eyes were unblinking as he stared directly at yours, his mind going empty as the questions inside his head slowly vanished—his forehead resting on your shoulder.

“i...i apologise for worrying you.” he managed to muster a sentence. his hands found their way to your waist then wrapped his arms around it. he breathed in your scent as he closed his eyes, nuzzling close to your neck. he thought about how pretty you looked tonight—not even minding his aching wounds as his arms tightened around you.

© rdngl 2023. do not repost, copy, translate or claim my works.

[f10werfae]

Protector, mine

pairing: BF!Chris Evans x GF!Reader

summary: Hi! If you take requests can you write one where reader is home alone when there's a break in while Chris is out with friends?

requests are open/likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated♥️

Chris Evans Masterlist, full masterlist, Taglist form

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Y/n padded around their open pan kitchen gracefully, her boyfriend Chris pressing a soft kiss to her lips, his hands placed onto her chin. “I’ll be back before midnight baby, alright? Ring me if you need anything, I love you so so much” He whispered against her lips, kissing both her cheeks then her nose, causing it to wrinkle adorably in response.

“Okayyy Chris, go enjoy yourself and don’t get too drunk. I’ll be fine, now go you big goof” Y/n laughed pushing her man’s hands from her waist and pushing him towards the front door, even handing him his baseball cap on the way out.

'Finally’ She thought to herself, a night just for her to relax by herself, and of course her baby Dodge who was now looking up at her with his puppy eyes. Giving him a scratch to the ear she went off to her first mission, a lavender scented bubble bath with a lush bath bomb, something Chris had specifically bought for her.

God was he smitten with her. His friends were even surprised he came out tonight, ever since they had started dating 2 years ago he had been on his knees for her basically, he was definitely the happiest he had ever been. Taking off her clothes Y/n settled into the steaming hot water, her hair tied into a bun onto the top of her head, her skin turning in the purple water.

It all started when Chris came into her family’s restaurant that Y/n was helping out in over the Christmas holidays, and Chris couldn’t help but obviously ogle the gorgeous woman in front of him. Her beautiful eyes and caring demeanour immediately attracted him, heck on their first date he even made her a bouquet out of books. Books she had mentioned that were on her reading list during one of their first conversations-

*BANG*

Interrupting her daydreaming session, Y/n sat up a bit more in the tub, but this time more alert. Silence filled the bathroom,

Chris would definitely have called up to here by now?

Not having a good feeling whatsoever, Y/n stood up and put on Chris’ white fluffy robe that she tended to steal often. Dodger’s poor whines calling at her through the en suite bathroom. Opening the door, she knew something was wrong when she heard multiple male voices booming from the downstairs. Her heart basically dropped to her pussy, bless her soul.

Within seconds she went from a state of panic to pure fear, what the fuck do you even do in this situation? What if they were armed?

Hearing footsteps come up the house, she backed herself and Dodger back into the bathroom, turned off the lights and settled them into the corner furthest away from the door. Her hands were shaking as she texted Chris

Y/n: There’s people in the house Chris, I don’t know what to do but i’m calling 911. Do not call me or else they’ll hear

Not even waiting for his response she straight away called 911, and those few seconds of ringing were the worst few seconds of her life. Poor Dodger was whining at his momma, his snout booping her arm to hide under it himself. Y/n was shivering, cursing at herself for putting her clothes into the washing machine before getting into the bath. Now she was stuck and practically naked.

911: 911 What’s your emergency

Y/n heard whispers and shouts coming from the direction of their bedroom, surely they were close by, fuck sake.

Y/n: There’s people that have broken into my house, please come quickly, i’m at (insert address)

911: Ma’am who else is there with you? I’ve dispatched a team, so stay on the line with me

Y/n: U-uh just me and my dog, my boyfriend’s out right now but I’ve let him know-

*Rattle*

Y/n: please please hurry they're trying to get into the room im in

Y/n felt herself freeze, multiple bangs were thrown against the tough bathroom door, which she could only assume was them throwing their shoulders against it; accompanied with the door knob rattling every few seconds.

911: Ma’am they’re on their way I promise, stay on the line with me, you don’t have to talk but stay on the line

Y/n switched the tabs on her phone and saw the spam texts from Chris

Chris: babe what do you mean?

Chris: Hello?

Chris: HELLO

Chris: Did you call 911?

Chris: Y/n are you safe?

Chris: I’m on my way.

And that text was sent 8 minutes ago.

Y/n: Dodger and I are in the bathroom hiding, I don’t know how many there are but the police are on their way. I’m not coming out of here unless you’re the one outside the door

Turning her phone off, she listened to the reassurance coming from the caller, her breath shuttering and her eyes letting tears out from fear. Thankfully the intruders seemed to have just left the bathroom door, probably ransacking the array of jewellery hidden around their shared bedroom.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Chris’ knuckles whitened on his drive home, dare I say he even ran through a few red lights and speed limits. His girlfriend had sent him that most recent text and Jesus, his heart was going 100 miles an hour.

Approaching their suburban house, Chris saw the police cars lined up and down the street, multiple officers standing by the front door.

“Excuse me officer, my girlfriend is inside” Chris said shoving past them and forcing his way inside to see two officers cuffing two men who were clearly off on some sort of substance, Chris didn’t even want to imagine what they were capable of.

Ignoring the questions and pleas from the officers to calm down, Chris sprinted up the stairs, skipping a few along the way. Their house had absolutely been ransacked, furniture and their beloved items thrown carelessly around the place, photo frames cracked and scrambled. To say he was angry was an understatement, not even words could describe how he was feeling.

“Ma’am it’s okay to come out, it’s police, i’m Officer Birch-“

“I told you, i’m not coming out until my boyfriend is here” He heard her voice say, not the usual jolly sound he loved, but a fragile broken tone.

Going over to the door past the officers,

“Baby? It’s me Chris”

“Chris?”

“It’s me honey, your Chris-“

Before he could even say anything else, the door had been thrown open and his girlfriend was back where she belonged, with him and in his arms. Her body still clad in his white robe as sobs wrecked through her entire body, was this really happening right now?

Chris felt himself sigh in relief knowing that she was safe,

“Sir, we need a statement-“

“Can we leave it to tomorrow bud? It’s late, you can come back tomorrow” Chris whispered, but the silence in the room amplified it. His arms rubbing up and down Y/n’s back, his lips kissing the top of her head. Nodding at Chris, the officers left and the only thing to be heard a few minutes later was the front door clicking shut.

“I-I was so scared, Dodger was scared too. What if they got the bathroom door open-“

“Bunny shh, i’m here, you’re safe now okay?” Chris cupped her face in his hands, his nose nuzzling gently against hers, Y/n’s glossy eyes staring back into his deep blue ones.

“Do we have to stay here Chris? Don’t wanna”

“No baby, i’ve got something set up for us already, you don’t need to worry your pretty head about anything else. Now let’s get you and Dodge all set up and ready to go” Before Chris could even leave the embrace, Y/n had latched onto him shaking her head, his heart breaking even more.

“Alright bunny you stay with me yeah?”

Nodding, Y/n held onto his hand and let him lead her towards her dressed. The shock from the break in still extremely fresh in her mind. Holding onto his shoulders, Chris helped her slip on her underwear and fluffy pyjamas bottoms and then his soft jumper to top it off. In silence Y/n watched Chris pack both their overnight bags, along with Dodger’s who was sitting patiently with his head in Y/n’s lap.

“Come on bunny, let’s get outta here” Chris said softly holding his hand out for her to hold, both of them getting out of the car quickly and into Chris’ car, Y/n not letting go of his hand once.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“ babe, we’re gonna stay here is that ok?” Chris had driven them to his smaller bungalow almost an hour away, a place they use for small getaways to the countryside. Y/n nodded looking at him with a small smile, feeling a sense of comfort looking at the familiar house.

With Dodger settled in the living room in his bed with his water and food bowl, the pup knocked out from exhaustion almost instantly. Chris frowning at the effect it had on his little companion before following his lover into the small cosy bedroom. Lit up by rosey lamps, Y/n took his hand and led him to the fluffy bed. Her arms wrapping around his torso, her head laying on his pec.

“I was so scared of losing you ya know?” Chris whispered brushing through her hair with his hands, his lips pecking her forehead every so often, her fingers tracing shapes over his bare chest. His clothes discarded onto the floor mindlessly with Y/n whimpering about wanting to be as close to him as possible.

“I love you Chris, thank you for coming as soon as possible. I-I was terrified and I still am to be honest. I know with you i’m safe”

“I-I love you so much more baby, you don’t even understand. I will never let any bastard come near you again, and it never should have happened. I’m sorry I couldn’t have done more though”

“You’ve done all you can Chris, and you’ve done more than enough by just being here with me”

Chris tilted her head up and kissed her lips softly, his lips travelling to her cheeks and neck, leaving a trail of open mouthed wet kisses; something he knew comforted her. One of her legs wrapped around his waist so she was fully on him, her lips pecking his chest softly before laying her head down.

Thankfully soon enough, Chris watched her eyes close peacefully, the stress of the day leaving her for now. All Chris knew was that he would be with her every step of the way during this whole ordeal, so much that he couldn’t help but steal another kiss from her lips, her lips smiling subconsciously in her sleep. His hands up under his jumper that she was wearing, lazily drawing shapes onto her back, her soft breaths filling the room.

———

Taglist Tags (Form is up there^^): @ilovereadingfanfics @patzammit @pandaxnienke @stormcloudss @vrittivsanghavi @dumb-fawkin-bitch @chrisevansdaughter @cevansgurl @marvelgurl @evanstanwhore @mirikusashes @taramaria @mysticfalls01 @hallecarey1 @misshale21 @mischiefsemimanaged @thereisa8ella @uwiuwi @bval-1 @diyabhanushali1 @angelmather1 @lastwandastan @ravenhood2792 @feltonswifesworld87 @fdl305 @bluebellsn @mdpplgtz03 @alexxavicry @bookfrog242 @alina02 @roofwitty779 @aerangi @s-void @oliviah-25 @nikkitc0703 @meetmeatyourworst @girl-of-multi-fandoms @imboredat2am @mansaaay @adoreyouusugar @annajustwrites @caps-shield1918 @xoxokiaraaxoxo @royalwriteroftheuniverse @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @chrisevansangel @tinyelfperson @emvebee @madebylilly @bxdbxtxh15 @tojisbabymomma @kimhtoo17 @itsaylayay1213 @mrspeacem1nusone @seren-a-ity

[finalgilmoregirl]

a Jess fic somehow related to winter/Christmas?

a/n : sorry for basically falling off the face of the earth lol, here’s something small i’ve had in my drafts for almost two years. no gender specified, no y/n

i’ll be home for xmas ☆ jess mariano x reader

there was nothing like the holidays. the cold weather, no school, warm drinks, and the beautiful snow that was soon to cover stars hollow. however this year's winter had been hard to enjoy ever since jess had left to california to visit his dad. you understood why he wanted to leave town of course and had been fully supportive of his plans, but now that he had actually been gone, you felt a void in your life. i mean, calls from payphones could only accomplish so much.

you thought you could handle it. its not like the two of you were completely dependent of each other, you saw each other around town almost every day and if you went a few without talking to each other, it was nothing to worry about. now, you wish you savored your time with him, maybe went on a few more dates with him.

you currently remained laid in bed, relishing in the warmth your countless blankets gave you. it was past 11 in the morning and as you didn't have school and your parents were at work already, you were in no rush to leave your solitude. that was, until your stomach reminded you of its presence and you realized you really couldn't just stay in bed all day without suffering from hunger.

slowly sitting up, you sucked in a breath as the cold air from your bedroom made its way to your body. its now or never, you thought. bracing yourself, you ran to pick up a sweater you had discarded on your desk, quickly putting it on to provide you with some heat. and after finding your slippers, you finally made your way to the kitchen.

as you prepared yourself to make a hot drink, you glanced at the calendar on your family's fridge.

december 22nd.

christmas was just days away. you of course were looking forward to it. good food, presents, classic christmas movies on every channel. but to think that you wouldn't be able to enjoy any of it with jess by your side was a bit of a disappointment. you had only been dating for around eight months, making this your first holiday season together.

what would he have gotten you? you couldn't help but wonder. clothes? cd's? something random, yet thoughtful like a candle of your favorite scent? you chuckled at the thought of jess browsing the candle aisle at a department store.

you took your drink to your room as you looked through your closet, deciding to go for a walk, maybe even picking up a pastry at luke's or the local bakery for breakfast.

picking out some warm layers you quickly got dressed, not wanting to leave your body vulnerable of the low temperature of your home.

as you laced up your winter boots, you spotted something in the corner of your eye. from underneath your bed you saw a book peaking out. as you picked it up you quickly realized that it was one of the many jess had been pushing you to read.

it was the catcher in the rye, a classic, you remember him saying as he handed it to you.

you had gotten only a few chapters in, schoolwork taking too much of your time up for you to actually enjoy it, however now seemed as a perfect time as any to continue.

you placed in in the crook of your arm as you placed the essential wallet and keys into your jacket pockets and prepared to leave your house.

you ultimately decided against going to luke’s as you approached the middle of town, knowing that jess’ absence from the restaurant would feel more prominent. you instead bought hot chocolate at the bakery and sat by the window, so you can take in the beautiful snowy view in the moments you weren’t reading.

you couldn’t help but start thinking of jess again. about how he and luke probably would have came over for christmas dinner. you’re parents were actually quite fond of them, your mother fawning over how sweet jess was to you, and your father surprisingly having a few things in common with your boyfriend’s uncle. maybe next year you thought, sighing as you took another sip.

you were two more chapters into the book before you decided to take a break, your hot chocolate being long empty. a walk sounds nice.

you plan was interrupted however, as the moment you stepped back outside, you saw him.

jess was standing on the frosty lawn of the town’s center with his back turned, looking around, looking for you. you gasped and slowly began walking towards him, maybe you were mistaken. he wasn’t supposed to be back until new years!

“jess?” you called out, and as you approached he turned at the sound of your voice, a smile forming as he saw you. the moment you realized for sure it was him you ran, almost knocking him over with the force you hugged him with.

“hey” he laughed, a small tease in his voice at your dramatic reaction.

“what are you doing here?” you asked him.

"they don't have snow in california." you chuckled at his answer, still trying to wrap your head around his presence.

"and i um", he hesitantly added on, glad your face was buried in his shoulder. "i really missed you."

you stepped back an inch, just enough to see his face and the warm color that began to shade his cheeks. his eyes traveled all over your face, taking in the features he thought about every moment he was away from you.

you smiled widely, "are you blushing?"

"what? no!" he quickly defended, eyebrows furrowing at the laugh you tried to hide at his response. "i'm just not used to the cold anymore!"

you let out a louder laugh at that, softly kissing him before placing your chin back on his shoulder as you resumed your hug.

"yeah, okay." you responded sarcastically. then sincerely, "i really missed you too."

happy holidays ☆

[babygirlmurdock]

It’s a holiday (almost) which means holiday Matt head canons I made up WOOHOO!!!! And this holiday being soo special because it’s Valentine’s and I’m a lover girl until I die.

• Matt giving you little gifts leading up to valentine’s. Like pieces of chocolate, new hair accessories (i personally love hair bows and clips), small bouquets of flowers that eventually make up a big one. A new charger even because Lord knows you’ve been putting it off for months.

• Matt definitely got caught up with things and forgot to reserve a restaurant for you two. He wanted to make sure it was extra special for you two (esp if this is your first Valentine’s together) but alas he messed up and is cursing himself for it. You’re not upset by any means though because you’d rather just be the two of you hanging in his apartment or yours, drinking wine (or anything of your choice) together and having intimate conversations only the walls can listen into. You only cared about being with him.

• But let’s say he did take you somewhere fancy, you loved dressing up, putting on a gorgeous dress you got a few weeks ago in an almost identical color to his Daredevil suit because you loved that color on Matt so much, you saw this dress and eyes were glued to it and you couldn’t stop thinking about it. You wear your perfume only on the pulse points so it doesn’t overwhelm Matt but it drives him crazy mixed with your natural scent. It’s so hard for him to keep his hands off you! He knows how good you look because as soon as you enter the restaurant with him, heart rates rise from left to right and he’s so proud to have you on his arm. He’s complimenting you all night while you share a delicious dinner and he can barely make it home before he is making a mess of your lipstick.

• Also Matt makes this holiday all about you. Pleasing you the whole night, making you basically a human puddle at his touch.

Happy Valentine’s day lovers!

💌🌹🍰🍓🍷❤️‍🔥💋🏹

[messrmoonyy]

Tess x fem reader

Celebrating the holidays durin the apocalypse

Holiday spirit

Tess Servopoulos x fem!reader

A/N- this is so soft. She’s so soft. I was working maybe 2 years or so after that flashback from episode 3. She’s not as hardened as present day timeline in the show, she’s a soft little ball of sunshine with her ball of sunshine gf. I only proofread this once.

Warnings- none. It’s tooth rotting fluff

Word count: 3.2k

Masterlist - requests open

Reblogs and comments are always appreciated <3

The holidays didn’t really mean much to anyone anymore. At first people had tried. Some desperate attempt to make the dire reality of things seem not so bad for a while, clutching at any remaining hope of things being normal again one day. Some people tried to keep traditions going, tried to get some kind of Christmas cheer. But a majority didn’t care. Most had little to no family left to even celebrate with. And others just found it pointless now. Because what was worth celebrating when the entire world had completely fallen apart?

But you on the other hand? You loved it.

Thankfully Tess indulged you. Even if it was with a slightly grumpy face from time to time. She’d come to realise that living with you meant she’d have to get used to it. And quite frankly she’d do anything if it meant you’d be happy.

You liked finding excuses to be happy. Some way to just pretend things were normal, that you weren’t living in a shitty apartment. A place where you could only run the taps for 5 minutes each day before they shut off and no hot water was granted. Where food was rationed. Where you were a smuggler. A criminal. Where you could die any second of the damned day.

It offered you a momentary escape.

A day that you could play pretend. That you could go home to your girlfriend and daydream about a big Christmas meal, piles of presents, flashing lights and a bubble Bath filled with festive scented soaps.

Pretending was bad, Tess had told you before. People had gone mad pretending everything was okay when it wasn’t. But you decided one day a year was okay. And she let you have it.

Though this year your Christmas spirit was dwindling. It was hard to be excited for a holiday that basically didn’t exist anymore, especially when you were out in the snow hauling boxes off of FEDRA trucks all day. And the fact that Tess had been away for two days with Joel, trading with Bill and Frank to get shit to sell.

She always refused to let you go with her. It was a miracle she even let you sell if you were honest. She was far too over protective. She always faced the dilemma before she left of risking taking you with her, but also not liking when she had to leave you alone. But she decided you were much safer inside the walls than outside of them. So she told you to stay put.

You’d convince her to take you one day. Especially as you’d heard Frank ask after you multiple times over their radio conversations now, always telling Tess to bring you along. You’d wear her down soon enough.

“ alright! Done for the day! Get out of here. Curfews in an hour “ you stacked the last box of supplies with a huff, the FEDRA officer keeping a watch on your work detail telling you all you were done for the day. You wiped your forehead with the back of your hand, exhausted from hauling heavy boxes for hours.

Trucks had been coming in all day, boxes of supplies that moved between the QZs. You hated being assigned to that post, they assigned more officers to make sure people weren’t dipping their hands into the boxes for themselves. You didn’t like FEDRA in general, but being watched so closely all day was enough to put you on edge.

But at least you weren’t on body disposal you supposed. No job was as bad as that. You’d even take the sewer maintenance hours over taking a shift on body disposal. Joel took the job with so much ease it mildly concerned you. I’m a world where death was all around it was hard not to get used to it. But you didn’t think you’d ever be that at ease.

It started snowing as you headed to collect your ration cards, it made your mind drift to Christmas again. It never snowed back home, but Boston seemed to get a decent amount. You’d always dreamed of one of those movie white Christmases as a kid, it was just your luck that you’d get them when Christmas was barely a thing anymore.

You pulled your jacket tighter around yourself as you collected your cards and headed for your apartment. The snow also made you miss Tess more. She’d only been gone three days but it felt like two weeks. And on cold evenings all you wanted to do was crawl under your shitty blanket in bed and curl up with her for the night. You hoped she’d be back soon. She’d said three days max, so she should be home no later than the morning.

But you’d miss her even if she was gone an hour. So three days was hard. She was all you had. Well you guessed Joel too. But Tess was the closest thing you had to family now. You felt lonely when she was gone. The tiny apartment suddenly felt too big for one person, you couldn’t get to sleep without her arms looped around your waist.

You shoved your hands into your pockets, sniffling as your nose turned numb in the cold. You got the feeling you had some seasonal bug brewing in your sinuses, your nose growing ever stuffier throughout the day. You almost didnt mind though, if you were sick it’d give Tess an excuse to stay home with you for a few days.

And you deserved to have her doting on you for a while after making you stay back, sick or not.

By the time you stepped into your apartment building the snow was coming down in a steady flurry, snowflakes sticking to your eyelashes and hair, and a chill that felt as though it had permeated right through to your bones.

You trudged your way up to the third floor, tired and cold, ready to spend your evening making an extensive list on what Tess could do to make things up to you. Maybe drink yourself to sleep and wait to be woken up by her in the morning.

Only to be stopped in your tracks at the end of the hall.

Because there she was. Leaning back against the front door, arms folded and tapping her fingers in some odd rhythm.

Your annoyance and frustration vanished almost instantly.

She seemed to sense your presence at the top of the stairs and turned to look at you, a smile blooming on her face.

“ you took your fuckin time “ you couldn’t contain yourself, running down the corridor and straight into her waiting arms. Knocking into her with so much force she had to take a step back to steady herself, laughing as her arms wrapped around you “ missed me then? “

“ so much “ you sighed, pressing your face into her neck and relaxing yourself with the familiar scent of the soaps she always smuggled you back from Lincoln. The stuff FEDRA issued out smelt of nothing, it made you question if it really even was soap. But Tess always kept you both stocked with the nicer stuff. Vanilla and cherry and bubblegum. Whatever she could trade for with Bill and Frank.

“ Jesus fuck your nose is cold “ she said, her neck scrunching as your nose brushed against her skin.

“ it’s snowing what do you expect. Let’s go in I wanna get warm and I wanna know what you got up to “ you let yourself out of her embrace and reached for the door handle.

“ wait “ she said and planted herself between you and the door, not letting you turn the handle. You gave her a confused look and she smiled “ I have a surprise for you “ your face lit up in excitement and your mind ran with what it could possibly be.

“ what is it? Can I eat it? Can I wear it? Is it a new book? “

“ if I told you it’s not a fucking surprise is it “ she said with a laugh, a smile on her face that you were seeing less and less as the years went on. But you always managed to pull it out of her with ease “ now close your eyes “

“ really? Come on just let me see “ you said and reached for the handle again. She grabbed your hand before you could though, an eyebrow raised.

“ close. your. eyes “ you sighed but did as she said, practically bouncing on the spot with excitement. She usually brought you something nice back from her runs, but she never went to the theatrics of making you close your eyes. So you knew it had to be something good. Something special “ and keep them closed. I know what you’re fucking like. No peeking “ you smiled as you heard the door open and she moved behind you, hands over your eyes as she guided you inside.

“ you have no trust in me at all “

“ no, you’re just the most impatient woman I’ve ever come across. I’m taking precautions “ she left momentarily to shut the door, her keys clattering as she dropped them on the counter.

“ okay “ she said softly, her lips close to your ear “ when I say you can, open your eyes “ you nodded, excited to actually see what it was.

“ can I open now? “ you said after barely a second of waiting.

“ you have the patience of a 4 year old”

“ Tess “ you whined, only further proving her point.

“ oh- just. Wait. One second “ you didn’t know if she’d done it on purpose just to make you wait longer or not, you heard her fiddling around with something before she was back behind you again. She pressed her chest to your back, arms slinking around your waist, a gentle kiss falling onto your cheek before she spoke softly by your ear “ alright. Open your eyes “

You opened your eyes and gasped, your hand flying to your mouth in shock.

She had decorated your apartment for Christmas.

A short string of lights tacked on one wall, a seemingly handmade paper chain in green and red on the other. Tinsel and even a tiny tabletop Christmas tree to finish it off. All of that paired with the snow now coming down in a heavy flurry outside, was enough to make you forget where you were. Forgetting that outside the windows was a wall keeping you in the city, armed officers and somewhere past the walls people running around no longer in control of their minds.

Nothing but… peace.

“ oh Tess “ your eyes flooded with tears, complete and utter adoration for the woman behind you overwhelming you. The woman that had said she found Christmas pointless. That didn’t understand the hype. Yet had decorated your space because you loved Christmas. You liked the tinsel and the lights and the tree. The cheer. The safety. The love.

“ I do okay?“ she asked quietly. You turned around in her arms and held her face carefully in your hands. Her face twisted into concern at your tears and you quickly smiled to reassure her you weren’t even close to being sad. Not even remotely.

“ Tess “ she wiped away your tears with the backs of her fingers, tucking your hair away from your face “ it’s fuckin amazing “ her face softened, brow no longer furrowed and eyes swimming with adoration for you “ how’d you get all this stuff?”

“ Bill and Frank. Well. Mostly Frank. There’s a big homeware store in their town, he managed to find some stuff. And He made the garland thing “ she said nodding to the paper chain hanging on the wall “ he could only give me one lot of batteries for those light though without Bill noticing so. I don’t know how long they’re gonna last… Joel teased the shit out of me carrying back the bag filled with all this. The dick “ you laughed and could imagine the grumpy look on her face as she trudged back up to the QZ, Joel teasing her for being so sappy as to decorate for Christmas.

According to Tess Joel had teased her about you from the first day you’d met. Even more so as the years went on and Tess gained a reputation for herself, proving herself as someone tough. Brave. A woman that people were beginning to fear. Yet was as soft as the day he had met her when it came to you.

“ I can’t believe you did this “ she shrugged as if it were nothing, eyes watching you intently in the way she always did, always trying to read exactly what you were feeling.

“ you like Christmas “ she said it as if it were plainly obvious. That it was silly to assume she wouldn’t risk getting shot by leaving the QZ, trading things that you could sell or use to keep you alive, to get you a Christmas tree “ and you’ve been… down. Lately “

Any normal person would have traded for a new book, or a new shirt to cheer someone up these days. But not Tess. She’d always go above and beyond for you. She had noticed you were sad and had gone to the extreme to cheer you up “ oh and I don’t know if you noticed but… “ she nodded back towards the door and you couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face. A slightly faded, plastic bunch of mistletoe was stuck on the doorframe. It was hung slightly wonky with a strip of black electrical tape.

“ you. Are so fucking sappy when you want to be “ you said with a giggle, shaking your head.

“ yeah and if you tell a single person about it I’ll smother you in your sleep “ she said, trying and failing to suppress a smile.

“ aww there she is. Romantic as ever “ you teased, slipping your hand to the nape of her neck and pulling her in. You barely even managed to kiss her at first, both of you smiling far too much. But you melted into her, making up for the last few days you’d had to spend waking up alone.

Kissing her was always good, there was no denying that. You’d never met anyone that could make you melt the way she could. There was something about the way she could make your knees weak just with the light pressure of her fingertips guiding you, her lips so soft and subtle against your own. You were an absolute goner.

“ hey don’t get too carried away. I got something else for you “ she said with a small laugh, reluctantly pulling away from you. You opened your mouth to start guessing but she placed a finger to your lips “ ah. No. Don’t even bother guessing. Go sit down I’ll get it “ she spun you round by your shoulders and pushed you lightly towards the couch.

You walked over to the couch, hand trailing over the fairy lights hanging on the wall. They made the place seem a little more warm. Homely. You wondered if you’d be able to find someone trading batteries on the black market.

You sat down and watched her rummage around in her backpack before heading over to you with something wrapped up in brown paper.

“ technically it’s a re gift. Frank gave it to me. And told me you’d like it more. So... Merry Christmas “ you carefully opened the paper to reveal one of Franks paintings. You’d always been in complete awe of Franks work every time Tess brought you something back from one of her visits. He’d sent her back with numerous little painted postcards, always telling her to give them to you.

She clearly talked about you a lot whenever she went, you always wondered exactly what she said about you.

The painting in your hands was one of you and Tess.

“ he captured you good huh? He only had the one picture to go off but I think it looks good “ Tess kept a picture of you in her pocket wherever she went. A couple years back you’d traded an ungodly amount of stuff for an old Polaroid camera someone was selling on one of your trips to the back alleys of the QZ to sell your own shit. Only half the film actually worked and you’d managed to get 4 pictures out of it and that’s all.

Tess had hated it at first but had grown into liking the idea when she realised she could now have a photo of just you for herself. So she’d made you smile, snapped the picture and kept the picture in her pocket ever since.

“ it’s perfect “ you said through your tears, standing up and tacking it onto the wall beside the three other Polaroids the camera had given you. And the other little paintings from Frank.

She got up and stood behind you, wrapping her arms around your waist.

“ I’m glad you like it. I would’ve taken that picture of us but you’d have noticed it was missing. So he just made something up “ your eyes flicked between the painting to the photo and smiled.

It was one of those moments you could pretend again. Pretend that this shitty apartment was a real home. Where you hung pictures of you and your girlfriend, your friends. Where you decorated for Christmas.

“ I don’t have anything for you “ you said through your tears, turning in her arms before you made yourself cry even harder. She gave you a soft smile, thumbs brushing over your cheeks to swipe away the tears.

“ I’ve got you. I’m good “

“ that was so cheesy “ you said through a laugh, leaning forward to kiss her again.

“ do you want the last past of your Christmas present? “ she mumbled against your lips and you almost wanted to be angry with her, because you didn’t feel so deserving of so many incredible things

“ there’s more? “ she reached behind her, pulling something out from the back pocket of her jeans “ a cassette? “

“ you don’t wanna know the shit I had to trade Bill for this. He was in a really bad mood and this was his mothers or something I don’t fuckin know “ she took your hand and walked over to the radio, placing the cassette in and pressing play “ better work “ she mumbled after it stayed silent for a few moments.

Then the almost hauntingly beautiful voice of Bing Crosby filtered through the speaker, white Christmas softly filling the apartment. It was a little crackly, maybe because it was so old or because the radio was a bit shit. But it didn’t matter. It was Christmas music.

You didn’t even know what to say to her. You just wrapped your arms around her and leant your head against her chest, basking in the what felt like your first real slice of peace in forever.

You were home. You were safe. You were in your nice apartment in a bustling city, it was Christmas. The world was filled with love and joy.

You could pretend.

“ thank you “ you whispered “ thank you for everything “ she dropped a kiss to the top of your head, rubbing your back softly as you swayed gently to the music “ merry Christmas “ you whispered “ thank you for being the greatest gift I could ever receive in this shitty fucking world “

“ now who’s the sappy one? “ you could hear the smile in her voice as Frank Sinatra now played on the radio. And as much as the world was falling apart. For the first time in 11 years it actually felt like Christmas.