#if i don't wear socks my feet get cold

[luveline]

bEGGING for something with the marauders with drunk reader at a halloween party!!! make it literally anything you want follow ur heart ily and ur writing is AMAZING!!!!

thank you, ily ♡ modern au, fem

The rugby uniform felt like a funny idea at the time, but now you're cold and wondering how James manages to stay warm when he plays. You must ask him. 

He sits on the couch with Remus and another friend, Frank. You like Frank but he's not one of your boys, leaving you no options —you have to slide yourself between Remus and James, emphasis on have to. Remus touches your waist unthinkingly as you do, like he might catch you if you fell. 

James is ecstatic to see you as always. "Where have you been? I was about to send out the search party." 

He's been very, very pleased with you upon the reveal of your costume. Like, pleased enough to take a handful of your thigh and squeeze at the soft inner part greedily. You lean back into Remus, enjoying the feeling and wanting his comfort. He's used to it, and  he adapts by pressing his face indulgently to the side of your head. 

You giggle. This is usually a nice feeling, but drunk? You're euphoric. 

"You can't stray too far, lovely, I need my victim," Remus says. 

"Where have your fangs gone?" you ask, pointing at your neck. "I made the bite mark so perfect. Everyone will think I have rabies if you don't commit." 

James laughs like you're hilarious. Later, you'll find out that you didn't quite say every word that you thought you said, and that you'd been slurring your words into one another to create Frankenstein's sentences. 

"Everybody already thinks you have rabies," James says. He's wearing a chef's costume from a show he likes, a white shirt that's sleeves strain against his biceps and a blue apron. Sirius spent an hour drawing tattoos into his brown skin with a sharpie. "That's why we've decided to put you down." 

"I'll have one last night of passion with her first, if you don't mind," Sirius says, announcing his presence. 

You like the sound of that, lifting yourself away from the other two boys and their touches to take Sirius' fine hands. He's in a button up and tie, the sticker on his chest proudly proclaiming, Hello, my name is: Dave.

"You're here to kiss me, right?" you ask.

Sirius grins and presses a quick kiss to the corner of your mouth. "My little alcoholic, you smell like lambrini. What did we say about lambrini?" 

"Uh, that it makes me sloppy drunk." 

"Exactly!" He kisses your cheek, working an arm around your shoulder as though showing you off with pride to the other boys. "My darling, you're so smart." 

"Not that smart, she still drank the lambrini." 

"Remus, don't start," Sirius admonishes. "You just hate that she chooses me when she's drunk." 

"You're her enabler," James says, "of course she does. But before she was drunk she chose to dress as me for Halloween, so if anyone is the favourite–" 

"Oh, please don't start," Remus says. 

The boys start, arguing over who your favourite is. It's a silly pass time with no real merit but no malice, either, and you're just drunk enough to goad them on. "Maybe Remus should be my favourite. After all, he's my vampire. Our love is, like, eternal." 

The furrowed brow he gets whenever the other two boys debate slips. "It's so eternal," he says, nodding confidently. "Quite right, dove." 

"Eternal doesn't mean better." 

"Then what does it mean, Sirius?" 

You decide that James' lap looks comfortable and that you might be here for a long time, so you push his legs down flat and sit carefully (not very carefully in reality, but in your heart) on his thighs, socked feet pulled up onto the couch, sideways and skewiff in his company. 

"Well, obvious winner," James says, encompassing your back with a big arm, pulling you into him. Under his hand your shoulders feel like a more delicate system; you aren't necessarily small, but his touch feels so everywhere, a pervasive feeling of safety and comfort in the palm of his hand where it grasps you. 

"You have the more comfortable seat," Sirius says nonchalantly. "It means nothing." 

Remus pulls one of your socks up where it's slipping down your calf and Sirius interrupts the arguing to ask if you need a glass of water. You don't have favourites. They're each incredibly lovely in their own way. 

[ddejavvu]

Hi, saw you said stranger things requests and I have one !! Steve and reader going to a party, and he accidentally spills his drink on her short and he panics because he thinks of what happened with Nancy and reader ends up having to comfort him with vodka all over her shirt :,) thank you

From the minute the bronze liquid comes in contact with your cream top, Steve's already reacting strangely. It's like a live wire stabbed through the base of his spine, shooting heated sparks towards his shoulders that tense.

"Hey, I- I'm sorry," He stammers, trying to set the now half-empty cup onto the counter. It doesn't work, and the cup falls to the ground, splashing this time over your feet. You take a hasty step back, and Steve's hands reach out to catch you with too strong of a grip.

"No, don't- I'm sorry," One glance into his eyes and they're alive with the same fever that's tripping up his words, "I'm sorry, don't go, please. Just- just come into the kitchen, please?"

"It's sticky here," You raise and lower your foot a few times, music not helping you assess the situation as it booms in your ears, "Steve, you're-" You grimace at the tight hold of his large hands, "You're squeezing a bit, Steve, let me go."

You try to pull away from him, but that only makes it worse. He holds tighter, pulls harder, and you have to grab his own arm to maneuver him a different way around the island.

"Okay- okay! Just- come this way, god," You hiss, "Steve, 's starting to hurt."

Then you're the only one holding up the embrace; he's dropped you like you're on fire. You don't have time to ponder why, you just keep dragging him through the sea of partygoers and into the semi-isolated kitchen.

"'Kay, can you get some paper towels?" You turn on the faucet, water running cold as you assess the damage to your shirt. When no reply comes, you turn back to Steve, finding him lingering right where you'd left him, his face pale.

"Steve? The paper towels?" You try again, to no avail.

"Steve," You shut off the faucet, feeling liquor slosh through your socks as you step over to him, "What's the matter? Are you okay?"

"I'm sorry. For- ruining your shirt, and squeezing.. too tight."

"It's okay," You hum cautiously, "I can wash it. And it's not like you bruised me. Paper towels?"

"I didn't mean to." He promises, his big brown eyes still blown wide open, "I really didn't. And I can pay for the- for the shirt, like- dry cleaning. I promise. I'm sorry."

"It's alright," You promise, "Steve, it's just a shirt. It's okay, I just need paper towels."

Your prolonged reassurances seem to set him straight, and he looks like a robot rebooting. His eyes flash with something unreadable and he snaps to attention, stumbling backwards and trying to maneuver the unfamiliar kitchen.

"Right. Right, uh- paper towels. They're- here!"

He brandishes the roll towards you almost aggressively, and you wet three beneath the water you've turned back on. He takes the wad from your hand before you can apply it to your stained shirt, dabbing gently at the remains of his solo cup.

"Sorry," He breathes, tongue poking out from between his lips as he focuses on rubbing the stain away.

"It's okay." You remind him, craning your neck up to kiss at his chin. He still looks pale, like he's recovering from a brush with death, but at the feeling of your lips against his chin he looks up at you, and the corners of his lips quirk up into a weak smile.

"It's- uh, not coming out." He murmurs, "I'll have it dry-cleaned, um, tomorrow, I'll take it, and-"

"Okay. We'll figure something out." You keep your voice soothing, although you don't know why you need to, "It's okay, Steve. Hey, do you wanna just go home? We could do a movie night instead - get away from the noise and the people, and I could change my clothes."

"Yeah," He flounders slightly, hand still working to scrub the alcohol off of your shirt, "Yeah, uh- where...?"

"Your place," You decide, "If you don't mind me wearing your shirt?"

His eyes shine now, and his smile seems less rickety, "Yeah. No! No- I don't mind it. My place, and- and my shirt."

[vanteguccir]

Let's trade shoes | Matt Sturniolo

Matt Sturniolo x reader

Summary: Where Y/N feels pain in her feet from wearing high heels for hours, and Matt gives her his sneakers to wear.

Warning: None.

Requested?: Yes, by anon.

Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

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From an outsider's perspective, the dynamics of the relationship between Y/N and Matt were incredible and unique. The two had their hearts overflowing with love, and they were not ashamed to show it.

Nick joked that the five love languages ​​were few compared to all the ways they loved each other.

But it was safe to say that out of the five, the one that was most part of their daily lives was the language of acts of service, precisely because of their busy schedules and daily tasks.

Matt would do absolutely anything to make his girlfriend's day easier, from turning on the coffee maker in the morning while she took her sacred morning shower, to combing and drying her hair after she washed it. He is always watching her from afar, making little mental notes of new things she does, so he learns and fits them into his routine so that he can help her in the future.

And Y/N isn't far behind, knowing how heavy the routine of recording three times a week can be - sometimes more, when the triplets need to catch up on some podcasts or car videos -, she always comes forward to help his day get lighter, from starting the car in the garage on cold days so the engine is ready when Matt gets in it, to helping him shower after a tiring day, washing his hair with his favorite shampoo while watching him nap in the warm water of the bathtub.

It was Thursday, and Matt and Y/N were leaving yet another weekly date night.

Matt and Y/N had created a habit almost a year back that, every Thursday after the triplets recorded the car video that would be posted the next day, they would have a date night, with the aim of always dedicating quality time together and cultivate a healthy relationship.

Y/N mentally cursed herself for her choice of shoes that night, having opted for high heels.

Don't get me wrong, the girl loved wearing heels and always felt prettier in them; Besides Matt, who was completely in love with the way his girlfriend's legs looked in heels, he said that they looked longer and more appealing, leaving him drooling and staring more than usual.

But if there's one thing they both knew, it was that when Y/N wore high heels for long hours, she always ended up with pain in her feet.

And that was exactly what was happening at that moment, the girl had been wearing those heels on her feet for about three hours and her toes were starting to hurt, squeezed by the front strap, while her heel screamed with every step she took.

It didn't take Matt long to notice her face contorted in pain and how she squeezed his hand - which was intertwined with her own - with every step they took.

The two were walking through the streets of the restaurant where they had dinner, observing the various restaurants and bars open, full of people of all types and music of all tastes, while chatting a bit about their day. This meant they were far from the car, and it would be at least a 10-minute walk to get back to it.

Therefore, Matt abruptly stopped in his tracks as they approached a wooden bench, followed by Y/N, who watched him with a confused expression.

"What is it, baby?" She asked worriedly, traveling her eyes down the street briefly, trying to find what could have made her boyfriend stop so suddenly.

Matt knelt on the sidewalk and removed his sneakers from both his feet, keeping his socks on.

"What the hell are you doing? Are you crazy?" The girl looked down at him, watching him with a frown.

"Sit here, baby. Please." Matt asked, standing up on his socks and pointing to the bench, taking Y/N's right hand and helping her sit down on the wooden surface. "Give me your foot." He kneeled on the ground, placing his sneakers near her feet and reaching his hands towards his girlfriend's right foot.

"What? Why?" She asked, eyes wide, feeling cimpletely lost, bending her body slightly forward so that she brought her face closer to his, a sound of pain escaping her lips from the movement.

"You're in pain, my love. Come on, give me your foot. I'll give you my sneakers." Matt explains, touching Y/N's right ankle and pulling lightly.

He raised his blue eyes, looking into his girl's eyes, staring at her so that she understood that he wasn't open for arguments.

Y/N sighed before resting her left hand on the cold and hard surface, lifting her right ankle so that her foot was off the ground. Matt unfastened the buckle on her high heel, leaving it on the sidewalk on his side before reaching for his right sneaker, fitting it onto Y/N's foot with ease.

He untied the shoelaces and tied them again so that they were firmer, knowing that they were bigger than Y/N's feet and could escape with her steps.

The girl kept her eyes on Matt the entire time, feeling her heart speed up more and more and her skin heat up, taking on a reddish tone. She didn't deserve him. He was so kind to her.

Matt carefully lowered the foot he was holding, waiting for her to steady it on the ground before taking her left ankle, doing the same process as before.

When Y/N had both feet inside Matt's white sneakers, the boy adjusted his posture, still crouched, so that he could fit his feet one at a time into the high heels, leaving them unbuckled due to the difference in size, knowing that if he closed it, he could ruin them.

Matt slowly stood up, regaining his balance on the pair of heels that he wasn't used to wearing before intertwining his left hand with Y/N's right, helping her stand up. He briefly adjusted the strap of the black sparkly purse on his left shoulder.

"I can't believe you're doing this." The girl commented as the two walked back to the car, a laugh escaping her throat as she shook her head, watching the wobbly steps her boyfriend took.

"I won't let my princess feel pain. And I didn't want to get dirt on my socks from this sidewalk. Our washing machine thanks us for that." Matt responded with a smile on his face, watching his girlfriend's reaction from the corner of his eye, keeping his focus on his steps in order not to fall.

"I love you, Matt." Y/N squeezed his hand lightly, massaging the soft skin with her thumb.

"I love you more, my love." The boy responded quickly, returning the squeeze.

He let go of his girlfriend's hand as they reached his car, opening the purse on his shoulder and looking for the key, before unlocking the doors, opening the passenger seat for his girlfriend.

Y/N smiled in gratitude, approaching Matt and sealing her lips over his cheek chilled by the cold of the night, stroking the soft skin with the tip of her nose before taking a step away, finally getting into the car.

She felt her heart warm with love while observing him walk around the front of the car with slow steps. She knew that there was nothing in the world he wouldn't do to make her happy and comfortable.

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My asks are always open. Feel free to send requests or anything at all 🩷💋

~ taglist:

@lustfulslxt @ladybunny44 @worldlxvlys @earth2starkey @remussbitch @freshloveforthefit @il0vebeingdelulu @sturniolowhore

(If you want to be added to the taglist, comment here, please)

[glassartpeasants]

Luffy, Ace, Zoro, Kid, Killer, and Law reacting to your cold feet touching them in the middle of the night

Shit post so enjoy

@anime-b1tch19 our discussion about kid has come to fruition

~~~

Luffy-Screams and kicks on instinct. You could be DEAD sleeping and if you foot touches him his scream WILL wake you up. He'll kick your legs and has left brusies. He says sorry after of course but don't worry, he forgets about your cold feet the next day and the cycle repeats 🙃

Ace-Also screams but like super high pitch and JUMPS out of bed. When you wake up and ask him wtf is wrong he looks at you like you just committed the worst crime. Tell him that your just cold and he should cuddle you if your feet are that cold. He does cause he loves you and he's clingy ❤️

Zoro-Is so dead asleep mf doesn't even notice. You could put an icecube along this mf's back and he will not flinch. If you want to fuck with him, put your cold foot on his inner thigh. Will roll over so fast to escape and he falls off the bed 🤭

Kid-Will push you off the bed and make you sleep on the fucking floor. He will NOT give you the blanket he's using. In fact he will wrap himself up like a burrito just so you can't fuck with him or touch him anymore with your cold feet. Don't worry though, just go to bed in a different room for a night or two and he will grab you and bring you back to bed cause he got lonely. (Happens twice a month) 🙄

Killer-Sucks it up the first time but makes you put on socks after that cause man's a south blue boy, he can stand the heat, NOT the cold. Will buy you weird and funny socks to cheer you up if you don't wear socks to bed. But you will learn cause you love him and will do anything to make him happy cause he deserves the world ❤️

Law-I firmly belive with my ENTIRE being that he has cold hands. That being said, if you touch him with your cold feet, he will put his cold hands in your neck. Your both cold as hell and petty so it turns into you having your own blanket and Law having his own blanket. But then the two of you get to hot so you both go back to sharing a blanket and enjoy the cold you give each other 👌

[oracle-of-dream]

Never Really Alone, Pt. 2

Minors DNI

Summary: A continuation of Never Really Alone, go read that first! You've woken up after being knocked out. You don't know where you are...

Warnings: Male reader, Anal Sex, Blowjob, Cum swallowing/eating, Scratching, Several Pet names, Cum on body, Overstimulation, Passing out after sex, Chained to the bed, Stalking, Kidnapping, Virgin reader

Wordcount: 3k

Your eyes slowly opened, squinting from the harsh light above you. There wasn't any rain thumping on your window, and you felt a breeze in the room. Maybe from a fan. You sat up, you're whole body stiff. Your neck ached from sleeping in such an uncomfortable position. But you don't remember going to bed...

You tried to think back... The power had gone out, Xiaojun came to help you, left to get something, and then...

Your body felt a rush of electricity as you remembered fully. You started taking in the surroundings. You weren't in your room–it was some sort of a room with glass walls and fancy furniture all over. Your clothes were changed too. You had white shorts, knee-high socks, a long white cardigan, and a red T-shirt. Even your underwear was different from the ones you remember wearing earlier. In the room; Bookcases were filled with different colored books. The furniture was clean leather with a wine-red color. The glass was extremely thick. Outside the glass something like a garden with a large curtain that could cover the entire box you found yourself in.

You stood from the bed and heard the sound of metal sliding against the floor. You'd been chained to the bed. The chain pooled on the floor and led into a hole in the wall.

"Finally awake?" A familiar voice sounded from the other side of the bed. Xiaojun sat in a high-backed chair, looking at you. He looked refreshed, like he'd finally slept, and his clothes changed from his usual sweater. He had a black cardigan, black pants, and a white shirt.

"Xiaojun? What's going on?" You looked at him, examining his calm demeanor. That's when you realized he wasn't chained at all. "Y-You're free!? Help me!"

"My poor sweet bird." Xiaojun moved and sat on the bed, patting the spot next to him. Reluctantly, you sat next to him. "You must be so confused after hitting your head."

"What happened?"

"You had a pretty bad tumble, so I had to bring you here to get you patched up," He explained softly, pointing at your head. You hadn't even noticed you had a bandage around your head. "I had to take care of you. There was so much blood..."

"B-Blood?" You tried to remember falling but you couldn't remember anything like that. "Well, I'm okay now! So we can leave, right?"

"No! It's not safe out there. You have to stay safe, stay where I can see you. Remember telling me you felt safe with me? It made me so happy..." Xiaojun's smile was deranged. "You basically begged me to save you."

"I don't think I understand what's happening." The room felt like it was spinning. Your head started hurting, throbbing.

"Let's not get too worked up now. You'll hurt yourself." Xiaojun tried to touch you but you reeled away from him.

"Are you doing this to me?"

"I'm saving you!" Xiaojun pressed a button on a remote, making the chain in the wall get shorter. You fell to the ground as your feet were pulled out from underneath you, colliding with the cold hardwood floor. Xiaojun knelt down next to you. "You'll see it. I'm helping you..."

"How–"

Xiaojun pulled on your hair, making your head hurt even more. "Don't be rude! I've been kind, so the least you can do is show gratitude!" His voice rang in your ears as he raised it. You felt small, reduced to nothing, as he towered over you.

You shrank into yourself. "T-Thank you..."

Xiaojun leaned closer. "Louder."

"Thank you," Your voice trembled as you said the words.

He looked you in your eyes, watching how they teared up. "I just can't stay mad at you–but you shouldn't push me like that. I get angry sometimes..." Xiaojun held you in a tight hug, pressing your body against his as you didn't have the strength to lift your arms.

"Xiaojun?"

He looked down at you. "Yes, beautiful?"

"Are you going to kill me?"

Xiaojun gasped. "No! Never. I'd never do something like that–but that's not an excuse to test my patience. If you get into trouble, you'll get punished." Xiaojun scooped you into his arms, lifting you onto the bed. "Now get more sleep. We can play later." Your captor tucked you into bed, fluffed your pillow, and smiled lovingly as he left you alone with your new reality. You cried yourself to sleep, hopeless and powerless...

You dreamed of home. Your parents. Your job. It all made you cry, even in a dream. You felt your chest tighten, your breathing cut off as you choked on something. Torn from your dream, Xiaojun had his hands around your neck, squeezing as he ground against you. You struggled and thrashed until he let you go, letting you breathe.

You choked and coughed. Xiaojun kissed your inner thigh. "I'm sorry, baby. You just looked so sexy sleeping so soundly, I couldn't stop myself." You collected yourself on the opposite side of the bed, trying to calm down. "Baby, look at me."

You looked at him, crying again.

"You already respond to your new name so well. And you look so fucking hot crying. I could just bite you." Xiaojun crawled toward you as you recoiled away from him. "Shh, don't be scared of me. Come here," He called to you with a hand stretched out.

"When do I get to leave?"

"You're not leaving!? I–" Xiaojun took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't get angry. If you really want, we can go outside when you show me you can handle it. So I know you won't run away."

You nodded quickly. "How can I do that?" You were desperate, if there was even a 1% chance you could get away from him once you were outside then you'd take it. No matter the cost.

"You need to show me you love me. Body and Mind. Soul too. I fell for you the moment I saw you when we first met." Xiaojun grabbed your chain and pulled you closer, "come here."

You moved closer.

"Wait. Crawl to me. You look so cute like that." Xiaojun's smile was soft but the words that came from his mouth were inhuman. You moved back and crawled to him. "Slower, don't rush," Xiaojun commanded as he rubbed his cock in his pants. You slowed your crawl, swinging your hips as you looked at him in the eye with the sweetest look you could muster. He moaned with delight. "That's what I want. Come sit here."

You sat next to him.

"Good boy," Xiaojung praised you. "First, we need to get your pills."

"Pills?"

"Yes. Medicine for your head, remember?" Xiaojun produced two small pills from his pocket.

"I don't want pills!" You cried, but Xiaojun ignored you as he popped them into his mouth and kissed you. He forced the pill into your mouth, holding you together until you swallowed them.

"I wouldn't have to be so rough if you listened." He looked at the way you stared at him. "What is it?"

"I-I've never kissed anyone..." You confessed.

"I was your first!? I'm so sorry, baby! I should've made this better for you–more special. I was planning so many things! Daddy's so dirty..." You shivered at the title he'd given himself. Would you have to call him that too? Xiaojun jumped off the bed, pressing a few buttons on a pad on the wall which opened a door in the wall. He disappeared before returning with flower petals and the lights moved to a dim lighting. He spread the petals all over the bed.

"What's this for?"

Xiaojun patted your head. "Just wait, don't be impatient."

You eyed the keypad on the wall. You'll need to learn the numbers to find a way out...

"Okay, done. Lay down, beauty." You looked back at the bed, covered in petals. Clumsily, you climbed into the bed as the chain made it hard to lift your foot. Xiaojun stripped off his shirt. "I'm going to make this night perfect for you. I want our first time to be magical."

"Is this not your first time?"

Xiaojun smirked. "Are you getting possessive?"

"No, I was just curious..."

"Don't worry about me, tonight's about you."

"Xiaojun, I don't know–"

"When it's an intimate time, you call me, Daddy. Got it, birdie?"

"Birdie?"

"That's your name, silly." Xiaojun pinched you gently. "My perfect little birdie. I've caught you and put you in an even prettier cage."

Your throat tightened. "Does that–"

"More questions!?" Xiaojun's eyebrows furrowed. "We can do questions later, right now I'm trying to be romantic." You had more to stay, for your safety, you didn't ask anything else. You just had to put up with it until you could find a moment to break free–You needed to feed into his delusion, no matter how much he scared you. The moment you gave up, you'd lose to him. Undisturbed, Xiaojun crawled between your legs and laid your head on the pillow, putting a pillow underneath your hips as well.

You focused on calming your heart as Xiaojung's hungry eyes met with your fearful ones. You wouldn't die here.

"Just take it slow, baby," Xiaojun cooed before gently pressing his lips to yours. The first kiss was soft, gentle, and controlled. His lips were so soft and tasted like pineapple juice. You separated for a moment before Xiaojun pushed you back in for more. The second kiss was more passionate, his lips sucking your bottom lip into his mouth and biting you softly. His tongue slithered in between your lips, earning a small whimper from you, as he prodded deeper into your mouth. Your tongues met and Xiaojun moaned happily, his hands moved along your body. His hips pressed against yours in gentle thrusts as he played with your nipples.

You broke the kiss first. "T-That tickles!"

"They're sensitive? Good to know." He pushed up your shirt as he kissed down your neck and torso stopping at both nipples to give them an even amount of attention. "So tasty. So fucking delicious," He whispered, his breath warm hitting your skin. He moved your hips, showing you how to grind against him to press your cocks against each other. "Come on, baby. Use me. Whatever you want, I'll give it to you."

You decided to shoot your shot. "This is too tight. Can we take this off?" You shook your left leg, making the chain shake.

"Ask for something else. Anything else."

You didn't know what else to ask for. He wouldn't let you go so easily. You needed him even more relaxed... "Can I see it?"

"See what?" You looked down, letting your hand explain as it drifted to his waistband. Xiaojun's eyes widened, "Of course you can!" He lifted himself off you and rushed to unbutton his pants to unveil his cock to you. Even though you were putting on an act, his cock was big and you felt your cock getting harder as you looked at it.

"Be a good boy for me, birdie." His cock twitched as it pointed at you. you took the sign and crawled to him, just like before. "Be easy with it. No biting, either," Xiaojun warned as he pushed his cock toward you. You opened your mouth, still on all fours, allowing Xiaojun to slide his cock into your mouth. "Holy fuck," Xiaojun muttered as his nails dug into your shoulder. It was hard to fit in your mouth with how girthy it was, your jaw struggled to open. "That's it, keep going!" You choked slightly as you felt his cock slide further down his throat. You moved back but Xiaojun caught you by the hair. "Don't run away, keep pushing. You got it." Your body twitched and burned as you resisted the urge to pull away from him, forcing yourself to accept the intrusion in your throat. "I'm so close! Hold your breath and get ready to swallow." You listened and braced yourself. As soon as your eyes shit, you feel your mouth fill with cum as his cock swells from his orgasm.

When Xiaojung pulls away, your mouth is full of the surprisingly sweet substance. "Swallow it. It tastes okay, right?" You nodded, mouth still full. "Is it too much?" You nodded again. "Alright, lay back and kiss me. I'll drink some, and you have the rest." You could've swallowed it all, but you didn't want to. But you didn't expect Xiaojun to be so compromising. He climbed on top of you and lowered himself to kiss you, drinking his cum out of your mouth as your lips moved with his. "Wow, it is sweet," He mumbled between kisses. He drank a little before you swallowed the rest with an audible gulp. "Good job, sweet boy. You did it!" He cheered.

Xiaojun pulled you to sit up, chest to chest. "Do you think you can keep going?"

Your skin tingled. "Y-Yes..."

"Good. Because I don't know if I can stop myself." Xiaojun bit at your neck as he lifted you, shifting his legs so you were completely in his lap. He tugged at your shorts. "Lose them," He ordered.

You wiggled out of your shorts, embarrassed to find out that you weren't wearing underwear like you'd thought.

"Your cock is so cute, the way it shakes." Xiaojun grabbed your shaft and stroked you, earning unstable moans. "This really is your first time, isn't it?"

"Please don't keep asking–"

"Don't be embarrassed about it. That's what makes you so beautiful. And, honestly, it's even hotter than I'm the one who gets to have you first and forever."

He lifted your hips, making his head meet your stomach as your knees were on his sides–he sat between your legs as his fingers played with your hole. You felt them enter you. Three at once, but you didn't feel as much pain.

"You're taking the medicine really well, baby."

"What were those pills?"

"They were muscle relaxers so you won't feel any tension in your head anymore. There's a side effect about other muscles being relaxed, but we should work with that." Xiaojun smiled playfully as he lowered you, his cock poking at your hole. You realized he was telling the truth when you struggled to lift yourself or move your legs. They barely shifted, no matter how much effort you put into moving. Xiaojun loved watching you panic the face you made was so cute, but he was getting impatient. He lowered you the rest of the way, stretching you as his cock slipped into you. Even with the "medicine", he could still feel his cock inside you. Your virginity was stolen from you in an instant. And you were helpless to stop it.

"Still so tight, you're perfect," Xiaojun moaned into your chest as he moved you on his cock. Your head fell on his shoulder as you tried to keep your voice inside. "Why won't you sing for me, birdie? Am I not fucking you good enough?" Xiaojun leaned forward, pinning you on your back under his weight, the soft mattress catching you. "I guess I'll have to try harder to hear you."

The pace was slow at first. Xiaojun loved watching his cock slide out of you and seeing how your eyes rolled back when thrust into you at full force. Ten hits, back to back, as you kept your mouth shut–your brain barely keeping your sanity.

"You're taking me so nicely, so easy, aren't you?" Xiaojun kissed your cheek. "I've gotta fuck you so well you'll scream for me. Either that or until you pass out. Let's see which happens first," He said with an evil smirk. He started picking up the pace, somehow finding the strength to fuck you even harder. So hard that your body moved forward on the bed with each thrust, so Xiaojun would have to pull you by your hips onto his cock again. The sound of skin slapping together and his grunts filled the room as tears rolled down your face. Your hands clawed at his back, making him moan and shake. "Oh, dirty boy, aren't you? Keep going!" His thrusts never lost tempo as he pushed you closer to your orgasm. You tightened around him but still bit your cheek to stay quiet. "You're close, aren't you? You're squeezing even tighter. Maybe you'll sing if I make you cum?"

Xiaojun lifted your hips, fucking into you with only the strength of his arms. Lifting you into each thrust rather than moving his hips, he was able to go even faster. You felt your orgasm around the corner, tears streamed, and you lost focus for just a moment when he hit your spot. A small squeak passed through your lips.

"I heard you. It's too late for you now! I'm gonna fill you with so much cum," Xiaojun growled as he stared into your eyes.

"I'm cumming–" You whispered.

"Yes, that's it! Talk to me," Xiaojun cheered. "Just cum, go ahead and let it out!"

You follow his orders and let it go. A moan ripped from your chest as your whole body tensed, cum shooting from your cock and your hole twitching from the nonstop sensation overload. Xiaojun fucked you through the entire thing and continued after it ended.

“Wait–stop!” You sobbed.

Xiaojun leaned down and licked a tear off your cheek. “You’re so cute when you cry, do it more! Cry for me to stop, please.” Xiaojun let go of your hips and pulled on your wrists, plunging him deeper, he leaned back and continued moving his hips. The new angle was hitting your spot every time, overloading your head. You struggled against him but he was so strong, you could feel bruises already forming where he grabbed you… The last ounce of strength of mind you had faded away, leaving nothing but Xiaojun and his cock. Your voice finally revealed itself, you moaned and squealed with every thrust. “Your noises-so cute! I can’t hold it!” Xiaojun dropped your arms and pulled out of you, cumming all over your torso. Thick ropes covered your white clothes, making them darker where the fabric was wet.

Xiaojun sighed in relief. “My god, you’re amazing. Such a good boy for me.” He stroked your hair, listening to the sound of your breathing. “How about a bath now, since Daddy got you dirty.” Xiaojun studied your face, your eyes were closed and your breathing was steady.

You’d actually passed out…

[theycalledhimastar]

I may love Kyle, but I can totally admit when he acts like a total weirdo (he doesn't, he's perfect).

☄. *.

Alright, for starters, man takes up all the counter space with his stuff. Unlike Simon, he is very loyal to his brands and he has a longer face care routine than you do.

Just look at his perfect skin and tell me I'm wrong because you can't, that shit's flawless and he intends to keep it that way.

Every towel in the bathroom smells like him whether or not he's used it and you will never ever figure out why.

(It's because he probably used it-)

"Kyle, did you use my towel after your shower?"

"No, why?"

"Because it literally smells like your bodywash."

"How do I know you didn't just use my bodywash?"

Don't make this about me, Kyle Garrick. You know what you did, you're just lucky your shampoo is easy on the senses. He's the one task force member that seems to be able to differentiate between what smells good and what is altogether too much.

The type of guy to have long, gorgeous eyelashes and always, ALWAYS complain about them getting in his eyes.

Like suck it up pretty boy, you're literally living my dream here with those baby doll eyelashes of yours.

He also knows it pisses you off so he tries not to mention when it happens, so you'll just catch him sitting there on the couch blinking like a madman. Trying his darndest to get the annoying eyelash from his eye without drawing attention to it. Although really and truly this just makes it more noticeable and kinda funny to watch.

Applies Chapstick in that really weird way that guys do it where they make a duck face, except he's fully self aware, he just knows it weirds you out so he exaggerates it further.

"Babe what are you doing, that's not how you apply chapstick."

"What do you mean, there's no right way to do it." :0

SLEEPS WITH HIS SOCKS ON BECAUSE HIS FEET ARE ALWAYS FREEZING!!!

Like thank you for sparing me from those absolute ice blocks, but like babe, that is unnatural. It is cruel and unusual and I will not stand for it!!

(Socks stay on during sex-)

Also prolly wears long sleeves and pants to bed regardless of how warm it is because he swears its more comfortable. Bro going to bed fully dressed, all he needs are shoes smh.

On a similar note, his hands are always cold, but instead of putting them in his front pockets or his jacket pockets like a normal guy, he walks around with his hands in his back pockets given the chance.

Doesn't think it's weird, but he walks around leaned back in order to do it and it looks goofy as hell.

Willing to advocate for you and it's really sweet, except it'll be for every single little thing. Like not just ketchup that you ordered but didn't get, if you off-handedly mention that whatever you ordered is kinda cold, he is on it immediately.

"Hey, uh, my Partner here says their food is a little cold, is there any way we could fix that please?"

Like he's not rude about it, but you still want to die inside because it's not a big deal and he doesn't seem to get that you really weren't complaining or trying to get him to fix it.

[yawneneteyam]

ALL THINGS CONNECTED | j. flatters chapter four — a minute sixteen

summary: growing up on the set of avatar: the way of water was a dream. your friends had become your family, all except for one. jamie was the one person you always found yourself drawn to, in ways more complex than the title of 'best friends' [3.1k].

pairing: fem!reader x jamie flatters

notes: based on jamie flatters documentary: all things connected. co-stars/friends to lovers. inspired by @cacapeepee. chapter contains swearing, mentions of next chapter being the kissing scene (I know, dont lose your head)

masterlist ⎸ chapter three | chapter five

2017.

"SO YOU'RE ENJOYING your time on set then?" you were sat on the floor in jamie's hotel room, legs crossed, hands in your lap. this was the longest interview that jamie had filmed so far. he saw his camera battery flashing red, but was adamant to keep hearing you speak. 

"loving it," you admitted, a small smile picked up by the camera. it beeped, signalling that it had a few more minutes of battery life left in it before it would shut down. "what was that?" you asked, a chuckle following in suit.

"the battery is gonna die," you noticed how jamie didn't switch it off, rather keeping you in frame.

“should i stop talking?” you asked.

“don’t," jamie looked upwards to you, through his eyelashes, "your voice is very soothing." you felt your chest tighten and your face heat up.

"your camera is gonna die, jamie" you whispered.

"oh well," he shrugged.

it was into the second month of free diving training for you all. kate was excelling, britain, who didn't know how to swim at the beginning of filming, was consistently getting over two-three minutes in each session. you and jamie struggled, everyone else seemed to keep improving, but you both found it harder than the others. 

"i don't get why we're shit though," he grumbled one night. the two of you had stayed back late on set, only a few members of crew pacing around, fixing things up for the next day of filming. you weren't technically supposed to be here still, but after getting caught up in hours of conversation together- you couldn't 

"speak for yourself, i got over a minute and a half the other day, mr sixty-two seconds" you crossed your arms, leaning back against the tanks. 

"put your money where your mouth is, miss" jamie cocked his eyebrows up, a smirk growing on his face. you scoffed, smiling at him, pausing for a second before looking around to see who was near you both. 

you knew that people were still on set, but no where near where the water tanks were. you took a deep breath, before looking over at jamie.

"ten bucks says i hold my breath for longer," 

"twenty says you don't" jamie countered. 

you paused for a moment.. "you're on." 

you both quietly took off your shoes and socks. jamie turned around as you pulled off your jumper, leaving you just in your shorts and tank top. he stripped his shirt off, his shorts the only thing he was left wearing. you both tried you best to quietly pull back the thick cover over the closest water tank. 

jamie did most of the heavy lifting, noticing you struggling to pull your side. you wondered what material they were made out of to be so heavy. the metal stairs that connected to the top platform were freezing against your bare feet, you tiptoed across to where the ladder was. 

"let me get the stopwatch on," he said, pulling his phone from his pocket. "alright," he put it down, ready to help you lower yourself into the water.

you turned around and stood on the top of the ladder, getting ready to dip your feet in first. "you right?" he asked, holding your arms as you stood still. 

"yeah," you exhaled, "it's gonna be cold," you nodded.

"oh yeah," jamie chuckled, nodding in agreement. you took another deep breath before lowering yourself into the cool water. you felt the pins and needles take over your lower half as you climbed more down the ladder. jamie chuckled softly as you took deep breaths, adjusting to the harsh temperature. 

"okay," you whispered out nodding "i'm ready." 

jamie counted you down to start, you took in a long deep breath- trying to slow your heartbeat down. when he finished counting to three, you dunked your head under the water and held your breath.

it was freezing. usually the tanks were heated, depending on who you who filming your scenes with. filming in the water with sam? warm water. filming with sigourney? freezing, not far off from the temperature now.

the lights that usually illuminated the tank were off, you were left in complete darkness. you weren't sure how long you had been going for, but you knew you had a little while longer left in your lungs before they began to feel like bursting at the seams. 

jamie watched the time count upwards as you stayed under the water. he knew that if you broke your best, a minute and thirty-nine seconds, he would tap you and get you back above the surface. 

soon, you popped back up, panting from holding your breath for so long. "how long?" you gasped for air, holding onto the ladder. jamie leant forwards, holding his hands on top of yours, making sure you were okay. 

"a minute sixteen," he said.

"fuck," you put your head back, resting it against the water. "you want a turn?" you looked up at him. he watched as the dim lights that were still on in the tank room, illuminated your wet skin; glistening in the late hours of the day. 

"yeah," he nodded. you moved over, but kept hold of the ladder. jamie let out a breath as he quickly tried to lower himself into the cold water. "holy shit," he whispered.

"i know," you nodded quickly. 

"you didn’t tell me it would be so cold, i’m freezing." he looked at your accusingly, floating back from the ladder. jamie took a little bit, trying to adjust to the water and get his heart rate down. "okay, i'm ready" he nodded, closing his eyes.

you climbed up one step of the ladder, ready to press start on jamie's phone. you counted down from three slowly for him. jamie kept his eyes closed as he sunk underneath the surface once you reached three. 

the time went painfully slow. you couldn't help but feel nervous, as jamie approached a minute. he had struggled before trying to get past a minute, almost blacking out on more than one occasion. you knew that was the real reason he was determined to practice. he was dedicated, wanted to be the best that he could be on a project.

if he couldn't reach a minute almost two months into training, he felt like he was never going to improve. you shook your head, thinking about it- not realising the time clocking over sixty seconds. you watched him nervously from your spot in the water. 

had he been down there for too long? you couldn't really tell. as you scrambled back up the ladder to see how long he had been down there, jamie came back to the surface.

"oh!" he panted, "holy fuck," he moved and began to float on his back. 

"are you okay?" you got back down and swam over to him, neglecting to look at the time. "jamie?" 

"yeah," he exhaled, "how long was i down for?" 

shit. 

you closed your eyes, taking in his tired expression. "longer than me," you smiled, lying to him. 

"come here," he tried his best to use his head to call you over, "come lay with me, it feels unreal" 

"you might just be on the verge of unconsciousness," you chuckle, pushing back to float next to him. 

"yeah," he chuckled, "that's probably it." 

you both laid quietly in the water, letting it ebb and flow into your ears and out. sometimes you could hear and others the water took over your senses.. but you heard jamie when he spoke.

"can you believe we get paid to do this?" he said softly. he was now laying with his eyes open, stuck to the roof. there were squares of skylights here and there in the roofing, the moon and stars were shining down on him. "like y/n, this is our job."

"i know right," you smiled, your eyes still closed. you hadn't found a time in the last few months were you felt as content as you did now. here with jamie, you felt at peace in the water. "i'd do it for free.. fuck, i'd pay them."

"me too," jamie chuckled, "we're lucky."

"i'm feeling pretty lucky," you agreed. 

jamie turned his head as much as he could, taking in how you looked so carefree in the water. you looked beautiful. "i'm feeling pretty lucky too," he smiled.

"we should probably head back to the trailers soon," you sighed, "we might freeze to death in here," you laughed.

jamie let out an exhale of a laugh through his nose. "might freeze out there too," 

you suddenly opened your eyes, jamie watched as your face turned blank. "jamie," you said.

"yeah?"

"we don't have any towels," 

"... fuck" 

"yeah.. fuck" you sighed. 

"we'll have to make a run for it," he laughed.

"we don't have the buggies either," you shook your head, already imagining how horrid the trip back to the trailers would be. "it's gonna be a long run," you turned your head to look at him. you both just stared at each other for a moment, before both breaking out into soft laughter. 

eventually, you both found the courage to pull yourselves from the cold water and back up the ladder. "oh my god," you shivered, trying your best to wring out the water that had soaked your hair. "shit, shit, shit" jamie followed you as your tried your best to not fall down the metal stairs with your wet feet. 

jamie grabbed his shirt, and looked at it for a moment before deciding: fuck it, and putting it on even though he would soak it. you gathered your shoes and socks, grabbing your jumper last. 

"put it on," jamie said when he realised that you hadn't put it on.

"it'll get wet," you looked at him. jamie threw his shoes and socks back onto the ground before coming over to you and grabbing your jumper from your arms. 

"and you'll get sick if you don't put something on," jamie pulled the material until he had the arms of the jumper open for you to put on. he helped you pull it over your shivering frame. "you're freezing," he took notice of your teeth chattering.

"it's cold!" you defended yourself. he put his hands on your arms, rubbing them up and down, trying to warm you up. "aren't you cold?" you asked him, eyes wide.

"yeah, but you look like you're gonna get hyperthermia" he chuckled, "i feel colder just looking at you."

you laughed as another cold shiver ran down your spine, your hair dripping all around you. "let's go, we need to get changed" you nodded.

jamie gathered his belongings back up and you both ran bare foot back to the trailers. shouts of explicits filled the night air as you both were met with the cool winds of los angelas. jamie had longer legs than you, but slowed down so you could stay together. 

your feet were sore against the pavement, but when you saw your trailer in sight, you stopped caring. you slowed down as you approached the door, jamie behind you waiting to see you safely inside. 

you put your hands in your pockets to put out the key to your trailer. when it wasn’t there you felt the front and back pockets of your shorts. jamie noticed your change in demeanour, but when your eyes met his, he knew what was wrong. “oh, you didn’t” he softly gasped.

“i did!” you panicked, “i’m so stupid, i left my bag back at the tanks.”

jamie chuckled, “it’s fine. come back to mine for the night and we will get your keys in the morning.” 

“jamie-“

“y/n, you need to get changed or you will get sick,” he said, looking at you with a serious gaze in his eyes, “i don’t want to be held responsible for that really,” he shrugged with a smirk. you shoved him lightly, glaring at him. he pushed you away laughing. “come on, let’s go.”

there were four trailers in between yours and jamies: bailey, britain, filip and trinity. you knew they would all be asleep in their trailers, trinity probably back at her parent’s hotel. jamie unlocked the door to his trailer and let you inside first. 

it wasn’t messy. frankly, his trailer was a lot cleaner than yours, something that you admittedly wouldn’t expect from jamie. there were a few books scattered around the kitchenette, his camera was sat on the bench. 

“let me get you some clothes,” he headed towards the bed, pulling his suitcase out. 

“it’s okay, i’ll sleep in these” you said, not wanting to inconvenience him more than you felt you already had. 

“y/n..” he looked at your with an unimpressed look, “you’re sopping wet, take the clothes, yeah?” 

you sighed, “thanks.”

“you’re welcome,” he said, passing his black hoodie and some trackpants to you. jamie popped into the ensuite and turned the shower on, trying to get a nice temperature for you. “i’ll pick a film to watch while you shower, ‘kay?” you watched as he pulled an extra towel out for you and hung it over the glass. you nodded, trying to hide the smile playing on your lips. jamie dotes on his friends, that was something you came to notice. what you didn’t notice was how much more he dotes on you than anyone else.. but of course, everyone else could see it. 

“i’ll be quick so you can get in,” you told him, closing the door behind you. the shower was needed. you let the cold water wash out of your hair and allowed the hot water to soak in instead. you quickly washed your hair with the shampoo and conditioner that was sitting on the shower floor. not bothering to stay in for much longer, you pulled the towel over the glass and wrapped yourself in it. you dried off as best you could before opening the glass door and getting changed. 

it was abnormal, the way that jamie’s clothes engulfed you. the jumper was almost drowning you. he preferred baggier clothing on himself, meaning it was even more so on your frame. you chuckled, trying to dry your hair slightly before heading back out into the trailer. 

jamie was sat, towel around his shoulders, going through footage he had shot throughout the day. you came and sat next to him as you watched the viewfinder play the clip. it was of bailey, trinity behind the camera. 

“can i interview you?” her voice came through clearly.

“no,” bailey said quickly, hiding her face from the camera. 

“ouch,” jamie chuckled, shutting off the camera. “better?” he turned to you. 

“so much better,” you whispered, resting your head tiredly in your hands. 

“i’m gonna shower quickly and then we can put a film on,” he sniffed standing up.

you laid back on the couch, taking up the space he had left. “you didn’t pick one?” you smirked.

“shut up,” he shut the bathroom door behind him. you chuckled, letting your eyes close. you quickly lost track of how long jamie had been gone, but it hadn’t been long before you let sleep take you. by the time jamie had gotten out of the shower and changed, you were long gone on the couch. 

coming back into the room, jamie smiled with a soft chuckle. he grabbed the spare blanket from his bed and brought it over to you. he contemplated waking you up and getting you into the bed so you could sleep properly, but he knew you would refuse. so instead, he laid the blanket over you and tucked the sides in so you would be extra warm. pulling the second pillow from his bed, jamie brought it back over to your sleeping figure and tried his best to put it underneath your head. you mumbled in your sleep as jamie moved you but stayed asleep. 

“goodnight, y/n” he whispered. 

when you woke up, jamie was still asleep. with a deep breath, you rubbed your eyes and slowly sat up. you knew you would have to go back to set and get your keys and phone. you didn’t even know what time it was. but if you were supposed to be somewhere, someone would have come and found you both.

you left jamie in the trailer to sleep, and headed up towards set. on your walk, a buggy drove past you with sam in tow. “do any of the clothes you’re wearing belong to you?” he shouted with a smile.

“shut up!” you yelled back defensively, a smile close to breaking the surface. 

“wanna ride?” he asked, the cart slowing.

“yes please,” you groaned, walking faster to hop in the back with him. 

“you’re not needed till eleven, what’s up?” he asked.

“i left my stuff on set last night,” you closed your eyes, ready for sleep to takeover again. “what time is it?” sam chuckled as your face screwed up in annoyance. 

“it’s nine thirty, kid” he patted your knee, “time for you to go back to bed, by the looks of things.”

“i slept on jamie’s couch last night, i miss my bed” you admitted. sam’s eyes perked up at jamie’s name.

“so that’s who’s clothes you’re wearing, hey?” he smirked.

you opened your eyes to meet his gaze. “no, no, no” you said, “don’t even go there.” you shook your head at sam before speaking again, “my trailer keys are in my bag, i was with him and he said to sleep in his trailer instead of going back so late”

“of course he did,” he scoffed, a smile on his lips, “kid wants you”

you scoffed, “sam!”

“what?!” he exclaimed, “speaking my truth,” he defended himself. you rolled your eyes in response as you pulled up to the main area of set. you and sam headed inside to see some crew members fixing the covering of the tank you and jamie had been swimming in last night. trying to be inconspicuous you quickly grabbed your bag, ready to head back to the trailers and sleep for a little while longer. 

you pulled your phone from your bag and checked the notifications that you had missed; one in particular catching your eye.

[📱 bailey bass: ]  oh my gosh you have to check the schedule for next week

[ 📲 message sent: ] what why?

[📱 bailey bass: ]  because 

[📱 bailey bass: ]  you’re filming your kiss scene!!!!!!!!!!!!!

taglist: @littlexscarletxwitch, @thexplosivegirl, @lagoonabluebabe, @rexorangecouny, @ilovejakesullysdick @rhiannonhippiegirl @leelumenaura @playboykenz @couragemydearheart @whos6claire @m-1234 @coconut-dreamz @graysonshaven @stvpidscvpid @ok-boke @cvsmic-love @sully-stick-together @caniuseurname @fandom-geek17 @sully-stick-together @leaveitbythewave @mirandathebanana @aisselasstuff

[mitsies]

it’s late february when gojo satoru decides he likes you.

the year is 2006, and the hour is late. a midnight snowfall takes place outside the window of gojo’s dorm room.

he sits at his desk, feet kicked up and pen twirling in his hand as he stares at the open laptop in front of him. the screen goes dim from being untouched for too long and gojo key smashes onto the blank document to wake it back up.

he’s currently mulling over an unfinished (and unstarted) mission report that was due appropriately 3 hours ago. but he just couldn’t find the words in himself to put onto paper.

(or, more accurately and less poetically- he just really didn’t want to.)

and plus, he was bored, and lonely. no one was awake at this time so he had no company, and gojo had found that he always worked better when not alone.

he sighed to himself before hunching back over the keyboard, ready to type in some nonsensical bullshit, when he sees something out his window- a person, clad in their pajamas, trudging through the snow. they were wearing fuzzy socks and gojo cringed because he just knew that they were soaked.

it was you, marching outside in horrid weather, with an expression that lay somewhere between delirious and determined.

he watched for a few more beats as you brushed snow off the courtyard benches with your bare, ungloved hands, seemingly in search of something. he wonders what could be so important that you’d brave the cold at this hour. gojo doesn't think he'd do that for anyone or anything in a million years.

his opinion of you, at the time, is not so positive. you were the second arrival to tokyo jujutsu high after him, and he didn't think he liked you very much. you seemed a little too apathetic, a little too spacey, contrasting his impassioned, driven personality.

you didn't seem very warm, he supposed, and that wasn't something he liked. (gojo never once considered that maybe, he just hadn't taken the time to get to know you.)

he's not sure why he follows you out into the snow, but before gojo knows it, he's pulled on his overpriced sneakers and a black scarf, and is standing beneath the overhang to the courtyard where you continued to search.

"i didn't think you were one to enjoy the snow so much," he calls out. you turn to face him, eyes wide, not having expected company. you look pretty, eyelashes webbed with snowflakes and a crown of ice adorning your hair. gojo's breath catches in his throat.

"i don't," you reply. your voice is thick with exhaustion, and gojo now sees how your arms are folded around your s shivering frame, and how your teeth chatter in the night.

"then what are you doing here?"

you look almost sheepish. "i forgot my book outside this morning."

gojo blinks. he wasn't expecting that. "you came outside in, like, negative 100-degree weather.. for a book?"

"listen," you start, indignant, "it was a really good book. it was actually so good that i dreamed about it, and i woke up because i didn't know what happened next. that's how i realized it was missing."

"so you're looking for your book at midnight in the snow because you had a dream about it?"

"basically."

gojo nods. "i'll help you look."

now it's your turn to be surprised. you knew he wasn't your biggest fan- but now, here he was, looking for something that had no meaning to him, solely for your peace of mind.

"oh. thanks, but... why?"

gojo shrugs. "i was working on a report and this seems more interesting. plus, you looked so sad and miserable and on the verge of death so you probably need the help."

you snort. that made more sense, you thought. he just didn't want to work, and this was an excuse to procrastinate further. you didn't think that gojo satoru had a selfless bone in his body.

but then he walked over to you, out in the snow, and removed his scarf. he wrapped it around your neck, deft fingers not yet numbed by the freezing temperatures.

"but first," he says, "you should put on some shoes. and grab a jacket. you might like, actually freeze. you look awful."

(he was lying. you looked heaven-sent in the stark whiteness of the background, but also kind of sickly due to the cold.)

he was close enough to kiss, you noted, though you weren't sure why. his face hovered close to yours and you could see the puffs of breath ghosting your cheeks. he's warm, so warm, and you're so tired- you don't even realize, but you slouch against him.

"you're probably right," you concede.

gojo is still, unsure of what to do. there's a pretty girl half-asleep on his chest in the freezing cold, one who he kind of hates but also thinks is really, really cute, and all he can do is place a hand on the side of your head and hold you there in a passive not-a-hug.

in a split-second, he realizes, though; he's not too sure if he can dislike you anymore. he'd thought of you as uncaring, but he supposes that can't be true anymore- not when you're desperate enough to know the ending of the story to traverse the snow in your fuzzy raccoon socks. you care a little, at least, about something.

(maybe gojo's grasping at straws to find a reason to justify his sudden liking of you. it works for him, though, because he smiles down at the top of your head and a warmth expands in the pit of his stomach.)

you pull yourself back drowsily, almost swaying where you stand. in an act of uncharacteristic kindness, gojo leads you back inside. you don't protest. he makes an amicable conversation with you, chattering away at half his normal volume to spare you the jarring sound of his blabbering.

"what book were you looking for, anyways?" he inquires at some point.

you're all but leaning against him as he guides you back to your dorm. he plans on leaving you there, because you're basically already dead on your feet and will probably pass out and die if you keep looking.

"kafka on the shore."

"i didn't know you knew murakami."

you manage a wry look through your heavy eyelids. "i didn't know you knew how to read."

he feigns a gasp and clasps a hand over his heart. "do you even know who i am?"

you hum contemplatively. "not really. but i wouldn't mind getting to know you."

his heart stops, and stutters. he hopes you're too tired to notice the rose flush gracing his cheeks. at this point, you've both made it to your dorm and you're already sitting on your bed. you look at him with your head tipped to the side and gojo realizes: he definitely doesn't dislike you. he might even go as far as to say he enjoys your company, if only a little bit.

he doesn't reply to your previous statement. "goodnight," he says instead, gently sliding the door shut. he hears you mutter a half-hearted 'sleep well' but he's already skipping back to his dorm room, grinning like a buffoon. he might as well be giggling and singing and dancing, with the way he feels like a child.

okay, so yes, gojo satoru probably liked you. maybe a little, probably a lot.

(he finds your copy of kafka on the shore in the common room the next morning. he thinks he'll give it back to you with a little note, asking you to a nice lunch with him later that day.)

[roroswitherose]

+ · 。~ my lovely

pairing. jay x female! reader genre. fluff warnings. just pure fluff wc. 1,270 request. no

synopsis. an adorable sleepy and clingy gf, and a sweet and handsome bf…aka a perfect morning.

note. enhypen has totally wrecked me lately and I had this cute thought while on call with my bestie and I just had to write it 🤗

You rubbed the sleep from your eyes as you walked through your apartment, following the delicious smell of pancakes and the faint sound of classical music. Your footsteps were quiet and slow as you made sure not to slip on the tile of the kitchen floor, because of your fluffy socks that had no grips on the bottom of them, you may or may not have pulled them off a while ago.  

You had woken up with a grumpy pout when you realized you were alone in bed. For a moment you thought that the wonderful and romantic night you had with your boyfriend was just a dream. But when you rolled over and still felt his warmth on the sheets, you knew it wasn't a dream. So, you groggily got out of bed, grabbed Jay's sweater that was on your chair and slipped it on. 

Your grumpiness only faded when you saw your handsome boyfriend standing at the stove, his back to you as he flipped another pancake. You couldn't stop the smile forming on your lips at the sight. He was wearing a gray muscle shirt and a pair of his basketball shorts, his hair still messy from bed. 

Your feet softly padded against the tile floor of the kitchen floor as you walked up behind him. You wrapped your sweater covered arms around his waist, and rested your head on his back, you closed your eyes, the bright light from the kitchen making them hurt. Jay doesn't flinch at your sudden touch, he expected that you would come waddling in seeking him when you woke up alone. He just knows you so well. 

“Good morning love, sleep well?” Jay asked you as he took his hand that wasn't holding the spatula and placed it on your hands that were on his stomach. Your smile widens, it was crazy how a simple touch of his could make you feel. His voice was still littered with sleep, and it comforted you in a way knowing that he only left you a little bit ago. 

You didn't have the energy to form words, so you just nodded against his back and mumbled out a soft “Mhm” 

“Still tired?” Jay asked as he moved his hand from yours to sprinkle a few blueberries in your pancake batter, knowing that they're your favorite. He places his hand back on yours and instead moves his hand under one of your sleeves, his warm hand caressing your wrist. His soft touch and the warmth he has, only makes you sleepier. 

“Let's go back to bed” you spoke but it came out muffled from your face being squished against his back. Your tone was a little whiny, as all you wanted to do was snuggle with Jay in bed, you wanted to be as close as you can with him for as long as you could before his manager calls him and tells him to come back to the dorms. You dreaded it when the time comes. 

“I’m making you pancakes, you asked for them last night” he tells you as he flips another fluffy pancake, the top being perfectly golden. As much as he wanted to join you back in bed, you eating a good meal was more important to him. He smiles when he feels you hold onto him tighter, he absolutely loves your clinginess. Ahh adorable, he thinks lovingly. 

“I said that before I was super tired, and before I knew my handsome boyfriend would leave me alone in bed” You playfully complained, letting out an annoyed huff. You were determined to get the two of you back in bed and under your fluffy duvet. You rub your bare legs together, hoping to warm them up from the coldness of your apartment. Jay chuckles at your words and you feel his body move with his laughter. 

“Hmm i don't know, I remember you being pretty tired last night” Jay tells you in a teasing tone, a smirk on his face as he hints at the busy night the two of you had together. You immediately feel flustered and embarrassed at his words and you move one of your hands that were on his stomach to his side, softly pinching him and fighting the urge to bite his arm. Jay lets out a loud laugh as he turns off the stove, he loves teasing his girl. 

“After we eat, we can watch that movie you wanted to” Jay compromised, remembering how excited you got when you showed him the trailer. 

“You said the trailer was stupid” You mumbled with a cute pout as you looked back on the memory of the two of you in his dorm living room. At least Sunoo was excited to see it. Jay steps back from the stove, your body clinging and following him. 

Jay patted your hand once before he turned around, a smile gracing his lips when finally took in the sight of his adorable and tired girlfriend. Your hair was still messy, your eyes showed evidence of you still being tired and you had that cute pout on your lips. He just wanted to grab your cheeks and smother your face in kisses. But instead, he just gives you an innocent smile, raising his eyebrow and pretending to be surprised by your words “Oh I said that aloud?” 

“Jayyy” You whined with an annoyed huff, leaning forward and resting your forehead on his chest. Jay shakes his head at his girlfriend's dramatics, before moving his hand to the top of your head, softly patting it and smoothing your messy hair. 

“We’ll eat first and then you can cuddle me as much as you want okay?” Jay hums fondly in a soft tone. You tilt your head up to look at him, your eyes locking. You give him a small nod of agreement and he smiles, moving his hand from your head to push back some of your hair on your forehead before softly kissing your forehead. 

“Perfect, you get the drinks and I'll set the food on the table” he nods, softly kissing your nose. His heart erupts in warmth when you do that cute nose scrunch at the feeling of the kiss. You give him a sweet smile before moving away from him and over to the fridge, Jay watches you for a moment. Watching as you slowly waddle over to the cabinet pulling out two glasses. 

Your breakfast was filled with quiet conversations, some teasing from Jay, you yawning and Jay feeding you some fruit, and of course you telling Jay many times that you love his pancakes, even teasing him back by saying you love his pancakes more than him. That earned you a poke to the side and a long kiss to your temple. In other words, your breakfast was perfect. 

After helping your lovely boyfriend clean up the kitchen, you grabbed his hand and pulled him into the living room. Jay lays on the L sectional of your couch, you snuggle into his side and resting your head on his shoulder. While you worked the remote, Jay grabbed the blanket that was on the couch and covered you both in it. You smile and snuggle closer to your boyfriend, his hold on you not loosening. 

“I love you pretty girl” Jay whispered to you as he looked down at you, he couldn't put all the love he felt for you into words. You looked away from the beginning credits of the movie and tilted your head up to look at your sweet boyfriend. 

“I love you more my lovely.”

note: omg jay!!! this was definitely self indulgent, ugh this is so cute! Please comment and tell me what you think! Likes, comments and reblogs are very much appreciated!!

You guys should all check out my smau had me @ hello! 🫵🤗

taglist: (open) @childsuppor

comment if you would like to be added to my taglist, (my jay taglist, my enhypen taglist or my taglist in general)

Copyright © 2023, all rights reserved. You can't copy, translate, reproduce, repost my fic, use my plot or layout.

[bruisedleftknee]

Snowy Night Walk

It's snowing, Noah and Reader are walking around the park and Reader feels cold, Noah tries to warm her up!

Noah Sebastian x afab!Reader 

Warnings: Car sex, Unprotected sex, Oral (both receiving), Fingering (fem reciving), Aftercare, Honestly I think it doesn't have anything graphic IMO. LOL

Word count: 1.8K (One shot)

Author's Note: Wrote this while it was snowing and I was cozy beside the fireplace sipping on my hot chocolate. Tried to make it longer, but I was too sleepy LOL. Hope you enjoy it. Let me know what you think <3

✦✦✦

It's been snowing since morning. Noah suggested a walk after coming home this afternoon, so they've been walking around the park for almost an hour now, holding hands and talking about their day.

“Let's get back in the car; it's freezing." Y/N says as she rubs her hands against each other fast, “Hurry, I'm freeeeezing!” she continues. "Okay, okay.” Noah smiles, picks her up off the ground, and carries her. “Don't move too much, baby; the ground is slippery, he says as he tries to maintain his balance. “Put me down, Noah; I can walk'' she says, swinging her legs. “I said stop moving, Y/N'' he raises an eyebrow, looking at her; her cheeks and nose are pink, and he can see her breath when she speaks. “I'm cold!!!” she says, swinging her legs faster now. “And that's why I'm carrying you, baby. We're almost  there." He says this and searches for his car keys in his coat's pockets.

They are a few steps away from the car, which is covered in a thin layer of snow now. He smiles and kisses her cold lips. She kisses him back and puts her cold hand on his cheek. "Oh, you really are freezing, baby,” Noah says as he unlocks the doors. “That's what I've been saying!” Y/N says as she puts her cold index finger on the tip of his nose.

He opens the back door and puts her on the backseat, gently. “Um?! What are you doing?” Y/N narrows her eyes. “Making you warm,” he says as he crawls over her, smiling, and locks the doors.

Y/N is lying on the backseat now, and Noah is almost hovering over her. He starts kissing her, and their cold noses rub against each other. She holds his face with both hands and kisses him back. “What if someone sees us?” she asks between kisses. “Don't worry, no one's here.” He leaves a kiss on her forehead. “Now let’s get you out of those clothes." He starts undressing her, starting with taking her coat off, then takes off his coat and puts both under her head. “Are you comfy?” he asks. "Uhum.” She nods yes. He unbuttons her pants with one hand while kissing her neck, then helps her take off her sweater. She is almost naked, only having her underwear and socks on. He turns on the car's heater. “Are you not going to take those off?” she asks, looking at the clothes he's wearing. He doesn't answer and starts kissing her chest. His hands are warmer than they were a few minutes ago. He is running one hand over her chest and breasts, touching every inch of her, and grabbing the grab holder above Y/N’s head with his other hand to hold his position in the little space they have.

Y/N’s nipples are hard now; he kisses them and moves to her belly, kissing and licking her belly and navel. She moans and runs her fingers through Noah’s hair; his head is between her legs. “You're warm.. and sweet,” he says as he kisses her inner thighs. She grabs his hair and pulls him close to her face so she can kiss him again. “Kiss me,” she said before he kissed her and licked her teeth. Their tongues touch and explore each other's mouths. He caresses her hair and kisses her forehead gently. “Relax, baby,” he says as he goes down between her thighs again, this time grabbing her panties and pulling them down. He kisses the top of her feet after taking off her panties, her white socks that are keeping her feet warm are the only thing she's wearing now. He continues leaving kisses on her legs, going all the way to her thighs till he reaches her core again, then kisses her all over. His tongue explores her; he starts licking her folds that are getting wetter every second and sucks on her clit, she rests her legs on his shoulders; her back arches; and she moans louder. “Oh, I love that sound you make.” Y/N’s legs shake a little as Noah talks breathily between her legs. “Stay still, baby; I can't focus like this,” he laughs a little. Y/N shakes a little more every time she feels the warmth and vibration of his breath on her skin.

He continues what he was doing, now putting one finger inside her hole and going in and out slowly. Y/N’s moans are more frequent now. Noah puts his hand on Y/N’s neck and starts rubbing it, pressing his thumb and index finger on both sides of her neck. Her face gets a little red, and her body is getting warmer. “Aaahh~” she moans. “You like it?” He asks, “Mhemm” she responds. He presses his fingers a little harder on her neck as he presses his tongue inside her entrance. She locks her legs around his neck tighter, and her walls clench on his finger that is still inside.

He comes up, his finger still inside, and kisses her neck. His hard dick rubs against her lower belly. “Are you going to give it to me?” She asks almost beggingly as she looks in his eyes, “Not now, baby,” and he gives her a hickey. "Pleaseee.” She moans, almost scratchinh his back with his nails. “Let's find out how much you want it. I can give you this for now.” He puts another finger inside her and starts rubbing her clit with his thumb. Her back arches again, and her legs shake faster. He presses his weight on her gently to make her stay still. “You’re gonna cum? On my hand?” he says in her ear. “Uhum'' she moans. She’s close. Her legs won’t stop shaking, but as she is moaning louder and tugging at his hair, he pulls out his fingers. "No, no, please no.. don’t stop,” she whines, covering her face with one hand. "Shhhh,” he says, licking her clit in circular motions again. “Mgonn-” she moans. "No, baby, I need you to hold it for me,” he says as he comes up and licks her nipples. Then he quickly unzips his pants and takes out his dick, which has been hard since the moment he threw her on the backseat and is now about to explode. He gave it a few strokes and slid it inside her hole, which was dripping wet from her arousal mixed with his saliva.

She’s still covering her face, and she screams in pleasure as he enters her. “Now cum for me, baby,” he says as he thrusts deeper and faster into her. “Hands where I can see them; I want to see you when you cum on my cock.” He removes her hand from her face, then holds the car’s grab handle tighter and thrusts harder. “Faster Noah—ah, shit—harder…” she moans loudly and grabs the coat that is under her head with both hands, tightly.

He uses his free hand to pinch her nipple and slams himself into her harder when he sees her eyes open slightly and roll back. Her legs start to shake faster. “I can't," she tries to say. “Then don't, baby.” He pinches her other nipple, and she lets out a loud moan as her back arches even more. Her legs lock around him tighter as she reaches her climax.

Y/N’s whole body is covered in a thin sheen of sweat, her chest still rising and falling with every ragged breath from her post-orgasm. She always gets flushed like this after she orgasms. He’s standing still, watching her whole body go through different stages of pleasure and release. He can feel her warm arousal on his dick; she’s so wet that he doesn’t want to pull out. Her body is starting to relax slowly.

“A little more for me?” He asks, smiling, “Oh god.” She smiles back at him and nods yes. He’s starting to thrust into her again when she puts her hand on his belly to stop him. “Wait,” she says, and starts moving back a little, trying to change her position.

She’s now kneeling on her knees facing him; he can’t really stand in the car with his tall figure, so he’s hovering over her. She unbuttons his pants and pulls them down to get them out of the way. “Take off your sweater,” she says, then starts kissing the tip of his dick that is covered in her arousal. “Hmmm.. You taste good,” she says, giggling and looking up at him, then wraps her lips around his dick, holds its shaft with both hands, and starts stroking it. He puts his free hand on her head, holding it still, and starts thrusting back and forth slowly into her mouth as he hisses in pleasure.

“You’re gonna make me cum, Y/N." He’s looking down at her now, his hair messy and all over his face. Y/N looks up and gets closer to his face, still holding his dick with both hands and stroking it. “I want one more thing before that,” she says as she kisses him, then turns her back to him, still holding his cock with one hand, and puts her head on the coat that he put under her head. She arches her back and helps him put his dick inside her hole after stoking it a few times. They both let out loud moans as he enters her. “Now, I want you to cum,” she says as he starts thrusting into her, and she buries her face inside the coat.

He can’t move easily in the little space they have, so he lets go of the grab holder and puts his hands on both sides of her shoulders. His bare chest is almost touching her back, his chain dangling in the air, and he starts going faster. “I’m gonna cum, Y/N,” he says in a deep voice. “Do it, Noah. Don’t make me wait longer,” she says. He starts going faster and faster, his rhythm starts getting messier, and she can feel Noah’s cock getting stiff inside her pussy, She clenches her walls around his cock, and he lets out a loud moan. He is about to climax. She feels him hesitate to stay inside right before he’s about to cum. "Inside,” she says loudly, “Ahhh~” he groans louder as his dick pulses inside her a few times, and then he is still. She can feel his cum inside herself; he kisses her shoulder and slowly pulls out. “Don’t move too much, baby; it’s gonna drip,” he says gently as he reaches for the tissues and then starts cleaning her. “Let it out, baby,” he says, rubbing her lower back. She unclenches her pussy and cum starts dripping out of her hole on the tissues. He cleans her off the liquid, wipes her inner thighs and back, and kisses her ass cheek gently. “Want a milkshake, or are you still cold?” Noah asks, smiling. “Milkshake sounds perfect." Y/N answers, smiling as she changes to a sitting position, leaning in for a kiss.

[luveline]

hi! i know ur not from the us so pls feel free to ignore this but i think a kbd fic where steve and the girls are doing sparklers for the fourth of july would be so cute! absolutely adore everything u post 🫶🏻

thank u!! sorry i know it isn't the fourth anymore bit I hope u enjoy regardless!! kbd —dad!steve and mom!reader show their daughters how to use sparklers for the first time, 2k

Steve isn't a huge fan of fireworks because of how dangerous they can be, but sparklers are just fine in his book. He buys a box of thirty. The girls can do ten each if they feel like it, though he knows Dove won't be interested, and he guesses Bethie will be too scared to hold them. 

Still, he hopes. You're hosting a banquet of food when he arrives, a mixture of things you made and stuff he prepared yesterday. It's a feast of hotdogs and burgers, cupcakes and donuts, macaroni and cheese and chilli with white rice. The table is crammed with plates and the radio is on, playing fun pop music a little too loudly for Dove's taste, her hands over her ears.

You turn down the radio, and ask her where she sits on your hip, "Is that better, sweetheart?" 

"Hey," he says, putting the box of sparklers on the counter. 

"Hey, Stevie," you say, in a rare tone. You always talk to him with love but he adores how you say his name now, like you've never been happier to see him in your entire life. "They had some?"

"Lucky, right? Guess I'm not the only schmuck who forgot to buy some." 

Avery rushes for his legs, a chocolate donut in one hand and a cup of juice in the other. Despite her luggage, she expects to be picked up. Steve grabs her. 

"You're cold, dad," she says. 

"Really? It's not cold out," he says. 

"You need something to warm you up." 

Steve raises his eyebrows. "Sure I do. Give me a hug, but don't get icing in my hair, please." 

Avery hugs him, sticky cheek pressing into his as her arms strain around him. He pats her back, meeting your eyes and returning your happy smile. Steve turns on the spot to see Bethie practically elbow deep in a bowl of chilli. She loves anything that comes with rice, and she eats it like someone's going to take it away from her, chilli staining her lips and cheeks, a grain of rice stuck to her chin.

"Did you get a photo of that?" he asks. 

"Of course I did," you laugh, putting Dove down to brace yourself against the counter. You stretch your neck in a tight circle. 

"Thank you. Beth, that looks so nice! Are you saving any for me?" 

"No!" she says happily, smiling wide as an ocean. 

"Good girl. Alright, you tell me when you're finished, I have something fun for after dinner." 

Dinner gets put on pause. You wipe Bethie's face clean, giggling the whole time and telling her how cute she is in your saccharine mommy voice that melts her, "We should have that more often, huh?" It's always a good day when Bethie eats well.

Steve helps Avery put her shoes on and together they step out into the backyard. It's small considering the house is a four bedroom, but maybe that's why you'd been able to afford it in the first place. You work with what space you have. There's a light wood fence, the perimeter half lined by pansies and the other side with a slim shed full of their bikes and scooters and a small bed where the girls attempted to grow strawberries last year. They didn't take, but Steve has hope for this summer. 

The yard is clean though slightly neglected, and Steve has to work spider duty before Avery will agree to step off of the doorjam. You follow soon, Dove at your shins, Bethie cautious as she steps out in her socks behind you.

"Where's your shoes?" Steve asks her. 

"I told her she didn't have to wear them," you say. "She says they're pinching her toes." 

Steve had Beth's feet measured specifically to avoid that. He assumes it isn't pinching so much as not wanting to wear them. He shrugs. "Okay. Stay on the stones then, Beth, I don't know what's in the grass. You might step on a snail." 

"Ew," she says, sitting down in the doorway.

Steve lights a sparkler for no one first of all, wondering how each girl will react. He hands it to you as the sparks jump to life, white and bright in the shade of the garden, the shadow of their house. You wave it around gently, but when each of your daughters gasps in unhappy shock, you hold your hand under the sparkler and let a spark kiss your palm. 

"They aren't dangerous," you promise. You wave it into a heart, a star, the letter A. "Does anyone wanna try?" 

"Me!" Avery shouts, holding out her hand. The sparkler burns remarkably quickly down to the stem.

"Dad will give you a new one. Hey, baby?" you put the sparkler down on the glass patio table as it sputters out. "Don't you have those gardening gloves?" 

Soon, Steve's outfitted each girl in a glove too big for their hand. He passes Avery a sparkler, and her bravery and subsequent joy prompts some jealousy in Bethie, fighting her fear to take one too. You crouch down to stand with her as she waves it around, her eyes like saucers as white sparks fly. 

"It's so pretty!" you say. 

Dove is interested, but not in holding one. Steve picks her up and lights a sparkler, raising it away from her curious hands to draw her name. Avery squeaks with happiness and proclaims it as magic. "Dad, I'm a fairy!" 

"I can see! Try not to put it by your hair, okay?" 

She squeals some more until it dies in her hand. "Can I have another one?" 

"Ooh," you coo, watching with pride as Bethie draws a circle with hers, "my girl's brave today, I'm super proud of you. Isn't this fun?"

Steve lights another one for Avery and gives Dove a loving kiss, thrilled to see them all this happy. He's really surprised Bethie's enjoying herself, but he supposes it would be hard for her to have a bad time with your hands on her shoulders, your encouragement soft and shining as angora silk. 

They must use up four or five each like that. 

"Daddy," Dove says, imploring as she touches his face. 

"What?" he asks, thinking of tacking 'my little princess' on the end but withholding. Lately every sentence he says has a pet name squeezed in the middle. He has a lot of love to give. 

She looks at him. He pats her small back, wondering if she's going to bless him with a sentence or two. She's old enough now to be talking, but she's quiet like Bethie most of the time. Or, she's not talkative —Dove is far from quiet. 

"Hotdog, please."

Steve laughs loudly. "You want me to make you a hotdog?" 

"And ketchup." 

"Yeah, I can make you a hotdog. You don't want to stay for another sparkler?" he asks. 

"No." 

He laughs again, pressing another kiss overtop the first one he'd laid on her chubby cheek. "Thank you for saying please, sweetheart. You're such a good girl." 

"Can I have a hotdog, too?" Avery asks.

"Sure you can, whatever you want. Beth? Mom?" 

You've sat down on the floor. You're probably cold, but your smile would never show it. "I think me and Bethie are going to have another helping of chilli and rice, aren't we?" you ask hopefully. 

Bethie's sparkler fizzles out. "Can we do more sparklers again?" 

"Yeah. Tell you what, let's go back inside for food and when everyone's full, we'll come outside and do some more before bed. Sound good?" 

The girls head inside, and Steve makes some hotdogs on the stove. Dove falls asleep with a bun in her hand, Bethie with her cheeks painted in sauce. Avery doesn't tire so easily, and while the others sleep, you and Steve take her out to the back door to light another sparkler. You write your names, you draw clumsy constellations. Steve writes 'I love

Avery,' grinning as she sounds out each letter. 

Avery relishes in the delight of having your unfettered attention. She stays up for hours after her sisters with you and Steve, long enough to watch stray fireworks shoot up into the sky over your backyard, her head on your shoulder, her hand in Steve's hand. 

"This is the best day ever," she says. 

Steve wants to cry. Genuinely. He meets your eyes over Avery's head, and you shuffle closer to her without speaking, enveloping her in a hug from either side. 

"Every day is the best day ever with you around, Ave," Steve says. 

"The best. Me and dad tried some fireworks, when you weren't born." Steve and Avery look at you with mirrored interest. He doesn't remember what story you're going to tell. "You would've been very small in me at the time," you say, looking up as a pink and white firework blossoms across the night sky like a peony. "Like a strawberry seed. We… didn't know you were coming. I knew. I knew, but I didn't know. I could feel you right here," —you point at your stomach— "but I had no idea what you were going to be." 

"Hey, you're right," Steve says. He forgets you were pregnant before you knew it. 

"But me and dad lived together already," you say. "We were always going to get married and have babies and stuff, but you came really quickly. You were excited." 

Steve grins. Avery hangs on your every word. 

"But anyway, me and dad lived together. Not here, but somewhere, and we didn't have a yard but there was a little patch of grass and we figured we'd buy some, but he burned a stripe of my arm hair off by accident with a long lighter, and the we didn't have a fence to nail the Catherine wheel down, and he accidentally dropped the firecracker box on the way home so it didn't work anymore, and the rockets wouldn't light." 

"Oh, no," Avery says. "You didn't have any fireworks?" 

"None. But we had a pack of sparklers. We did it just like we did with you. I wrote 'I love Stevie' in big letters, and your dad tried to hug me and jabbed me in the stomach with his burned up one." 

"Your hoodie," Steve remembers finally. "Your white hoodie, I bought it for you the week before at the mall after you threw up in Dairy Queen. I remember." 

"I had it for a week, and he got this huge ash smudge on it." 

"But you wouldn't let me wash it with bleach." 

You give Avery a kiss on the top of her head. "I wanted to remember how happy we were. I thought the smudge was a nice reminder. Turns out I got much more than a smudge." 

"You got me," Avery decodes.

"We got you," you say. "You're a thousand different things, Avery. You're smart, and kind, and pretty, and you're also a really good reminder that your dad loves me." 

"Do you need a reminder?" Steve asks, genuinely worried, and kind of in awe. How you can sit there and say something that romantic off the cuff is beyond him. He really might cry soon. 

"No," you say smugly. "You tell me all the time." 

Not enough, he decides. After this, he'll be sure to tell you more. 

Steve falls in love with you for the thousandth time.

"What I'm trying to tell you, Ave, is that dad is right. Every day with you in it is a really good day. I love you so much," you start to fizzle, which is to say your voice gets tight. You won't cry, but Steve teeters. "I'm really, really happy you had the best day ever, 'cos you make every day the best for dad and your sisters and me." 

"Really?" Avery asks softly. 

"Really," Steve says, rubbing the space between her shoulders. 

A rocket squeals into the air and fractures into a ring of spectral colours. 

Avery climbs onto her feet, and, torn between who to hug, wraps an arm around both of your necks. 

Steve wraps his arms around you both, squeezing your hip. He's gotten used to being loved, to feeling it, but tonight might be an all time high. Sparklers become a Harrington tradition that year. 

[shotmrmiller]

A chance encounter.

Pairing: Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick x F! Reader

TW: none other than TOOTH ROTTING CUTE FLUFF

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

You have had a bad week but today has been horrific. You had awoken 15 minutes before the alarm, get up to shower, and the water had gone ice cold when you had shampoo in your hair.Stumbling out after a freezing shower, you were pulling on a tank top when the back of it twisted because you didn't fully dry yourself so that had you fighting it for 10 minutes and you still had to squeeze into an office skirt and button up. You ran as fast as you could in heels to your car and drove at an illegal speed to try and get to work on time— only to have your boss drown you in paperwork before snapping at you about a lack of coffee on his desk. Your only reprieve is that it's Friday and you don't work Monday. Fuck this job, fuck this week, and fuck whoever jammed the paper printer and left it like that.

Looking at the clock, you see the end of your shift has come— and you couldn't grab your keys and sprint out of the door fast enough. All you could think about was going to a grocery store and getting a bottle of wine before going home and ordering some Mexican food.

----

Standing in the alcohol section, you're biting the tip of your thumb as you try to pick which brand of cheap wine would give you the least painful hangover when a baritone voice from behind you interrupts your train of thought.

"I wouldn't recommend you a two-buck chuck for a Friday evening."

Without facing him, you say, "I'm sorry?"

With a lovely British accent, he translates. "A box of red Moscato will serve you in nothing but a terrible headache."

Scoffing, you turn to tell him to piss off— but your retort is caught in your throat. A beautiful man is the owner of that voice. Bronze complexion and tall like a runway model with a cap that had the U.K. flag on it. Chocolate eyes, straight nose, sculpted jaw, lush lips and a 5 o'clock shadow. He looked like a man out of a romance movie.

Your cheeks redden and stammer, "I— uh, don't want to pay for a good bottle I plan on getting drunk on."

He lets out a laugh, straight white teeth with pointy canines— you curse your weakness for mythical creatures— and extends his hand.

"Gaz. Gaz Garrick."

Shaking his hand, you give him your name.

"Well, speaking of wine, I'd love to personally recommend you a bottle over dinner."

'This isn't real,' you think. 'What could a man carved by Michaelangelo himself want with someone like you?'

He takes in your gaping mouth and widened eyes as a response.

"If you want, of course," he falters, "I didn't mean to make you uncomfo—"

"No!" you interrupt, "I mean yes! I'd love to go out to dinner with you, Kyle."

He relaxes his shoulders before letting out another entrancing laugh.

"Right, well, if you like— since I know you've got plans tonight— we exchange cell numbers and we can plan a date when it's the most convenient for you. I'll be in America for a bit."

You're too excited to wonder at what he meant by that and take out your phone, nodding eagerly. You're about to ask him what his number is when he shoves his unlocked phone into your hand and takes yours. Exchanging phones again, you look down at his contact page. Kyle with a blue heart next to it.

You're blushing furiously but look up at him and smile.

"Alrighty, Gaz. I gotta get goin', I got a couch and take-out calling my name. But I will text you."

"I hope you do, love. Otherwise, I'll be gutted."

Grabbing the box of wine, your heels click as you walk down to the register— and you can feel the burn of his gaze on your back. Someone somewhere was looking out for you because you just happened to be wearing the most flattering office skirt you own. Paying and grabbing the receipt, you leave the store with a pep in your step and a silly little smile on your face. You couldn't wait to see him again.

---

Finally at home in an oversized tee and sweatpants, you're lounging on your sofa. Fluffy socked feet up on your coffee table with a full wine glass in your one hand, you're changing the TV from Youtube to the Netflix you never use. Taking a sip as you scroll through the popular on Netflix list when you see a recognizable face.

You shoot up from the couch, spine ramrod straight as you squint your eyes at the screen.

No. Fucking. Way.

"Gaz?"

'Last letter from your lover' starring up-and-coming british star Kyle Garrick---- The letters after that blur together. No shot he's ACTUALLY from a movie!

Slamming your plastic wine glass down on the table, you scramble to your phone before sending 'Gaz' a text.

You: Hey.

Gaz: Hey, love. I didn't think you'd reach out so soon. Can't say I'm not glad though.

You: Yeah well, I just happened to come across something peculiar and I thought of you.

Gaz: Oh? I'm flattered I made such an impression.

You: Yeah! I just saw the preview to 'Last letter from your lover'. You wouldn't happen to be Kyle Garrick?

Gaz: Ah— right. Listen, my name IS Gaz. It's what friends and loved ones call me. You not recognizing me from the get-go was a breath of fresh air. I understand if this could be an issue for you.

You: It just took me by surprise. How about you make it up to me tomorrow evening? You've set high expectations for your choices in wine.

Gaz: Absolutely, love. I promise I won't disappoint. Tomorrow then, at 7.

You grab your sofa cushion and smush your face into it before screaming at the top of your lungs. Grabbing the box of wine, you store it in the fridge and get ready for bed. No hangover for you, after all—You've got a date!

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

[6rookie-writer0110]

Two Sides

Peter Parker/Spider-Man x Male Reader

Request- ANDREWS PETER x MALE READER, WHERE READER AND PETER JUST SPEND A DAY TOGETHER them being all cute and stuff and they end up cuddling with Peter being little spoon 😍

You and Peter are living in the new apartment, he can't stop smiling. It's the first time you and Peter would live together, you are madly in love with him. Peter is home and he is setting up the Christmas tree, then you walked into the apartment.

“Is that a Christmas tree?” You asked.

“Yes! Sorry, babe but I couldn't resist when I saw it” Peter said.

The tree is in the living room by the window.

“It's big but I like it,” You said.

He walked towards you and gave you a peck on the lips.

“I thought, we can decorate the tree together. It will be our first Christmas celebration in the apartment” Peter smiled.

You and Peter have been dating for a long time. You already know he is Spiderman and he is happy that he doesn't have to lie to you.

“We can make it to the mall before it's closing time,” You said.

“Awesome!” Peter smiled.

You and Peter leave the apartment and head to the store. Peter hold your hand while looking around the store. You two start to pick the decorations and other stuff. While shopping you are thinking about what to buy Peter for Christmas. You have no idea what to buy and you have been searching online, since November.

“Are you really getting those elf socks?” You asked.

“Yes, I am and I'm getting you a pair,” Peter said.

You watched him put it in the shopping cart. You and Peter did get matching Christmas pajama shirts. After a while of shopping, Peter takes you to a restaurant for dinner. You and Peter start to talk about what to do for Christmas in the new apartment.

Once back at the apartment. You and Peter start to decorate the living room and the tree. You are putting the Christmas ornaments and he starts to put the lights on the tree.

“Should I make hot chocolate?” Peter asked.

“Yeah, but don't forget the marshmallows,” You said.

“I won't forget about it,” Peter said.

You keep decorating the tree and he went to make hot chocolate. Then you start to put Christmas stickers on the window. Then you went to the kitchen and helped Peter bake Christmas cookies. Peter pulled you closer to him and he starts to kiss you.

“You seem very affectionate,” You said.

“I can't kiss my boyfriend?” Peter asked.

“You can kiss me anytime, Peter,” You said.

You start to kiss he and he starts to smile.

✫ ✫ ✫ ✫

You woke up and the apartment is feeling colder. You grabbed extra blankets and went back to the bed, Peter walks back into the bedroom.

“Y/n, make me warm,” Peter said.

You are lying on your side, he moved closer to you and he is the little spoon. You kissed his shoulder and snuggled on you.

“Let’s stay in bed all day,” Peter said.

Your fingers are between his fingers.

“Yeah, let's stay in bed it's too cold to do anything,” You said.

“Y/n, I love you,” Peter said.

“I love you, too,” You said.

You and Peter do stay in bed all morning, just sleeping. Usually, Peter is the big spoon but you don't mind holding him.

---

Later, Peter went to make pancakes and he tried to flip them. But you and Peter eat together and talked for a little bit. You two went back to bed, he wanted you to hold him again.

“Your feet are cold,” You said.

“You like it cold,” Peter said

“No, I don't. I wear socks to bed” You said.

“Yeah, it's cute you wear Spiderman socks” Peter smiled.

“Of course, I have to support my hot boyfriend,” You said.

“I love my hot boyfriend,” Peter said.

You and Peter are smiling.

[anjelicawrites]

The lost honor of Badger's crossing

Paring: Abraham x reader

Synopsis: you are adjusting to your life as Abraham’s wife. Everything seems to be perfect, when two strangers come knocking.

Warnings: reader has burn marks, angst, fighting, Abraham’s possessiveness, reference to arson, reference to murder, reference to prejudice against the Romanichal community, kissing, oral (f receiving), p in v sex, kissing, scratching, overstimulation, conceive kink if you squint your eyes.

A/N 1: I don’t know anyone from the Romanichal community and used Google for my research for this fic. I tried to be as accurate and respectful as possible. Please let me know if I’ve written something wrong so I can make the needed corrections!

A/N 3: Abraham doesn’t have a surname, I had to use Google to look for Romanichal surnames and pick one.

A/N 3: reader is AFAB but not described. Where needed, they/them pronouns used.

Abraham stares at you with a small smile on his face as you put some more wood inside the stove; the vardo is paneled with thick wood, but you like to be warm all the time, for this reason you're wearing one of his oldest cardigans: a ratty thing you had stitched back together with love and patience, that you wouldn't let him wear outside but it's perfect to stay indoors while doing chores. 

NSFW and 18 + only under the cut!

Quickly you finish putting together his lunch and give him the tight knotted cloth, hoping the food will not get too cold by the time he eats it. 

His big hands cover yours and he kisses your forehead gently; Abraham is such a different man in the privacy of your vardo, more affectionate and less aggressive than anyone has the luck to see him.

“Are you staying here today?”

You can see the worry in his eyes, he doesn't like when you wander around on your own, even flanked by the dog he bought for your safety. 

“Yes, I have so much work accumulated I will have my hands full for the whole day.” 

You’ve been elbow deep in your own old book trades, the only thing you bought with you from your old life, that you let the normal chores slip a bit and you don't want anyone to think that you're not taking care of your husband properly. 

“Good.”

His warm lips find yours in a deep kiss and you have to force yourself not to slip out of your clothes: the horses need him, he has his share of work to carry out. 

He's near the door when you stop him hastily. 

“Wait! Put this on, it's awfully chilly already!”

You wrap his long neck in the warm scarf your adopted mother knitted for you when you were a child, using thick, red wool and a simple, yet elegant, pattern. 

“You worry too much.” He jokes, but you can see in his eyes that he appreciates your care. 

“It is my job, you know. Take care of you.”

“My perfect little wife.” He growls, his free hand lands on your hip to grab the soft meat there. 

“Oh no Mr. Heron. Off you go!” You laugh as you walk backwards deeper in the vardo. “I’ll see you later!”

He stares at you with a burning stare that tells you he's not going to let you sleep tonight. 

The commotion happens later in the afternoon. You’ve been a busy bee for the whole day: doing the accumulated washing up, deep cleaning the vardo and cooking yourself a quick lunch. You had just put the heatless curlers in your hair and pulled out your sewing kit to start working on the random array of ruined socks that needed some mending, before the sun sets, that you hear shouting outside and the dog at your feet starts growling.

You step out of the vardo and mingle with the women standing behind the wall of men partially shielding you all; you can still see the two men dressed in cheap suits and the car they drove to the field where you are all currently living.

Between the shouting and the drove of buzzing chatting all around you, you can barely make out what the men are saying and froze when you pick up that they are policemen and they are looking for you; when they shout your maiden name, your instinct is to step up, but Mrs. Lee grabs your arm to stop you from moving and her husband shouts that there’s no one with that name living in the community: it is a technicality, you’re now Mrs. Heron and those men don’t know that, yet, but they will.

Without having spoken to them you know they will come back with questions about Badger’s Crossing.

You scuttle back into the vardo to curl on the bed and cry: for how long will that place hang over your heads? 

You catch a whiff of Abraham’s aftershave and the tears come out harder: you wish he was here to keep you safe in his arms, but you know it’s better that he wasn’t around: he’s so protective of you and aggressive with the outside world, that you fear he would attack those men and put himself in a ocean of troubles just to keep them off your scent. 

He’s not going to like any of this: you know he’s deluded himself into thinking that the matter with Badger’s Crossing had been resolved, but it’s always going to come back and haunt the whole community, even though none of them had anything to do with it.

Your fears have been proven right when he enters the vardo like a storm; likely Mr. Lee has already spoken with him and he’s charged himself up with rage, which explodes in a shouting match between you two.

“You’re not talking to these men!” 

He orders and boy how much that doesn’t sit right with you!

“You don’t tell me what to do Abraham!”

“You are my wife! You will do as I say!”

“I’m not your possession! And I do whatever I feel it’s better!”

“This is not your decision! The community will decide what’s better!”

This is something you still struggle with: you are used to shoulder the consequences on your own, make your bed and lie on it, as your adopted mother used to say, do what you think it’s right regardless of what others think (and if you hadn’t followed this mindset, you would have never met Abraham in the first place), now you have to do the polar opposite. You understand that your circumstances have changed, that gadji see the community, not the person and all excuses are valid to perform violence and persecution, but those policemen came for you and, to protect the community, you should do your part, even though the idea makes you sick.

You go to the assembly still angry at Abraham and stand stiffly by his side, only to slip away as soon as voices are raised: you know where this is going and you know you’re going to say something you’re going to regret.

You walk to the edge of the camp, Cyril the dog flanking you the way Abraham teached him and you scratch his head; the animal is still young but he’s big, a mongrel with some shepherd dog in him, by the way he tries to move you towards the path he thinks it’s the safest for you to walk.

You can hear in the distance the sounds of the assembly and you desperately wish for a pack of smokes.

“Penny for your thoughts’” Mrs. Lee says from behind you and you jump out of your skin.

“Jesus Christ!”

“I didn’t mean to scare you child. I didn’t see you back there, I thought you wanted to express your opinion on the matter.”

You try to look into her eyes but darkness has fallen and you can barely make out her form.

“If I were to voice what I think, I would regret the words immediately.”

You can’t see Mrs. Lee, but you can sense her gaze weightining you. She’s an impressive woman who commands respect not because she’s married the head of the community, but because she exudes a charisma you’ve rarely felt from other people. 

You’re not sure she likes you, she’s accepted you and helped you when you had no one else, like everyone else has done, but you wonder if she just did it out of affection for Abraham, or if she saw something in you.

You often ponder about this matter, if Abraham’s extended family simply tolerates you because he’s imposed you to them through marriage; on some levels you know you’ll always be the gadja that’s now living in their community, who tries to adapt but will always be something else, bought up following a different set of rules.

“What would you say that’s so scandalous, child?”

You take a deep breath and try to organize your thoughts.

“There shouldn’t even be a discussion happening at the moment: those people came calling for me, I should address whatever issue they have with me.”

“It became ours when you joined us. And we were at Badger’s Crossing as well.”

“None of us did anything wrong!” “Are you so naive to think that truly matters?”

The ice in her voice stops you: you still forget that the privilege you grew up with has never extended to them.

“No, I suppose it doesn’t.” You hang your head. “I still don’t think pretending I don’t live here or, God forbid, leave, will solve the problem. Those men will come back time and time again, until they’ve got what they’re after.”

Mrs. Lee hums and you feel her heavy gaze on you again.

“We should have never stopped in Badger’s Crossing, it was never part of our atching tan: we should have known better and now it’s our problem to shoulder, not yours alone, child. You didn’t bring that in our lives, if that’s what you fear, it oozed in our direction the second we stopped.”

You let go of the breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

“I don’t trust the police.” You tell Mrs. Lee. “Half of the problems at Badger’s Crossing would have been solved if our constable had done something. I don’t know why they want to talk to me, but they didn’t come guns blazing, perhaps if they get what they’re after, they’ll leave us be.”

Mrs. Lee's hand curls around yours; her palm is dry and work hardened, still is gentle and holds the faint memory of your birth mother’s touch.

“I’ll talk to my husband, just promise me you will not do anything without talking to him. The discussion is still ongoing.” She clutches your hand tightly. “You should do the same with your husband. He means well.”

“I know he does. We’re both stubborn like mules.”

When you get back to the vardo Abraham is nowhere in sight, he is still discussing the matter at hand, probably, and you wish a final word hasn’t been said on the matter.

You enter and go to the stove and put some more wood in there, before you light some candles and start undressing.

The vardo is bigger than the one Abraham used to live as a bachelor and far more decorated than the masculine, but simply furnished old vardo even was: you two want to expand your family and will need the space one day.  

You two had decorated it as newlyweds, you wanted more colors and painted all the wooden paneling with botanical designs and put pretty fabric everywhere, Abraham letting you because he knew he couldn’t stop you and helped you with all the patience he had: it had truly been a work of patience to live in an ongoing project and isn’t that the perfect metaphor for marriage? Still you don’t want to talk to him right now because you’re reeling from the fight and how he addressed you as his property and not his wife, the memory stroking anger and sadness in your chest, so much so that you can feel the tears already forming in your eyes: you need to sleep on this before you can even start to think about addressing the situation with him.

Abraham comes back later to the silent vardo. The fire is dying in the stove and the air is not as chilly as he thought it would be; you’ve left all the stubs of candles you two own to illuminate the vardo for him and he smiles at your thoughtfulness. He undresses as quietly as he can and slips inside the bed, next to your form.

You’re facing the wall and pretend to be asleep, you don’t see the way Abraham’s hand lifts towards your form, before he turns on his side to try and sleep a handful of hours: if he were a more courageous man, he knows he would curl his arm around your sleeping body, making sure that you know he’s still here for you, your fight be damned, but he fears your rage and can’t stand your rejection, not today, not when the world of the gadji came back to hurt you and he’s afraid of not being able to protect you.

So close, he had been so close in Badger’s Crossing to lose you, he feels like the air is escaping his lungs at the mere thought of harm befalling you: he needs to keep you safe, whether you want it or not, he’s too selfish to think of a life without you, why can’t you see it?

You wake up alone and cold, not because the stove isn’t burning, Abraham left it going at full mast and he’s put some more covers over you, but because you haven’t slept in his arms as usual and it feels wrong, as it had been going to sleep still angry at one another. You and Abraham haven’t been married for too long, shy of a year and you don’t want that to happen ever again.

You quickly eat your breakfast, your heart swelling when you see that Abrahams has brewed tea and left the pot on the stove to keep it warm for you: you will talk to him as soon as he gets back, loathing that the fight has lasted this long.

You feel the nervous energy pervading the whole camp and are glad that your chores are outside, for the day, having decided to go look for mushrooms and special herbs for old Mrs. Doe: she’s ancient and her poor knees and ankles don’t work anymore the way they should, you’re happy to help her any way you can. 

You’ve been walking for the good part of three hours, Cyril unleashed but never wandering around and with a big basket at your hip, full of mushrooms and herbs. 

To go back home you have to walk the last leg on the country road and leash Cyril just in case: there aren't many cars around but you don’t want to risk it.

You’ve almost arrived when you see the two policemen, they are smoking next to their car parked on the curb and are eyeing the road.

“Mrs. Heron, it has been difficult finding you.”

As you approach you can observe them: the one addressing you is tall and lanky, with a long, thin face and piercing eyes, his colleague is as tall but bulky, with a fat face and small, dark eyes.

“Who are you?” You stop at a distance and Cyril stands in front of you.

“I’m DCI Anderson and this is DS Thomas. We would like to have a word with you about Badger’s Crossing.”

You stiffen, even though you expected that to happen.

“There’s nothing to talk about. The whole matter was sorted by the coroner.”

“I still would like to talk to you. I’m curious to understand what happened.”

Both men are moving closer to you and your first instinct is to step back, keep the distance between you three.

“I think you can easily access all the documents you need. If you don’t mind, I have some work that needs to be done.”

“Actually, we do mind.” 

As if on a cue from his boss, DS Thomas’s hand curls around your wrist, stopping you from sidestepping them, Cyril growls at him.

“Keep that mongrel at bay!” He barks.

“Then keep your hands off me!”

You try to pull your arm away and his hold only tightens painfully.

“There’s no reason for violence. We’re here to help. We're all friends: let Mrs. Heron go.”

The brute does as he’s told and that’s all you need to know about their dynamic.

“As much as the paperwork was informing, I very much like to know what had happened from one of the survivors, and why you left.”

“I don't wish to revisit that and it's none of your business the reason why I don't live there anymore.”

You don't like this DCI Anderson, the more you look into his eyes, the more the coldness there seeps into your bones. 

“We decide what's our business, not you.”

DS Thomas barks in your face and your mind goes to the small knife in your pocket. 

“Are you accusing me of something?”

“No one is accusing anyone of anything, Mrs. Heron. I'm just curious to know why an Oxford graduate decided to change their life so drastically.”

“Then again, not a crime. We all need a change of scenery.”

DCI Anderson stares at you with unreadable eyes and you know he’s like those dogs who don’t stop chasing their prey until they’ve grabbed it. 

“Take my card, Mrs. Heron, there’s my phone number, if you ever need it. I'm not here to cause you any harm.”

“There’s no need for that:”

You three were so focused  that you didn't see Mr. Lee and some of the other men arrive; you use the sheer number of them to put as much distance between the policemen and yourself: hopefully they’ll let you go.

“Don’t be afraid to ask for our help, Mrs. Heron!” DCI Anderson says with a cold voice. 

Someone takes the basket from you as Mr. Lee asks you if you're alright; you don't truly know what to answer, something in the interaction irks you. 

As soon as you all arrive at the vardo, you can see Abraham pacing in front of the door. 

“What are you doing here? Is everything alright?” You blurt out. 

“Did they hurt you?”

His hands land on your arms and curl there to stop himself from checking all over you in front of the whole camp. 

“How? Abraham? I'm fine.” You half lie to him. 

“I’ve sent Paul’s children to collect him. We need to discuss this.” Mr. Lee interjects. 

“Yes, of course.” You say, opening the door of the vardo.

The two men sit around the table and you wish you were alone with your husband: now, more than ever, you need the comfort of his embrace. 

“Cuppa?” You ask, unable to sit still. 

“Thank you.” Mr. Lee answers

You zone out from the conversation and focus on what you're doing in the vain attempt to understand what irked your brain so much. 

Like an automaton you fill the kettle and put it on the stove, the drone of the men's voice not truly entering your brain as you try to decide which tea to brew and which biscuit to offer to Mr. Lee. 

“They think you stole me.” 

You say, putting the tray with the teas on the table, cutting through the men’s discussion. 

This is an old habit of yours, losing yourself in your thoughts to simply blurt them out, something both your birth and adoptive mothers used to scold you about

“That horrible DCI saying that he wants to help me. Yes, he wants to know about Badger’s Crossing, but he thinks you’ve taken me against my will, even married me into the community in the same fashion.”

The two men stare at you as if you’ve sprouted a second head. 

“That's why he was so pushy yesterday and ambushed me today. He believes me captive.”

Abraham stands up abruptly, almost sending the tea set flying around the vardo. 

“I’m going to kill him!”

“You're not going to do such a stupid thing, son!”

Mr Lee is already on his feet, back against the door of the vardo, ready to stop Abraham from doing something stupid. 

“It is not the worst thing gadji accused us of. They have no honor, they can't understand.” Mr. Lee adds. 

“That's why I need to talk to them.” 

You stand in front of your husband with one hand on his beating heart, Mr. Lee stands behind you, forgotten. 

“I'm not letting them steal you away!”

Panic and rage tinge your husband's voice, more than ever you wished you two were alone. 

“I'm not going anywhere but the matter needs to be addressed or it would truly appear as if I am a prisoner here.”

“Do you truly think those men will believe you?” Mr. Lee stares at you dubiously. 

“The only opinion that matters is that horrid DCI’s, the DS is just his guard dog, I don't even think he has a brain.” You pause to let the information sink in. “And me not being a romni could probably help: they’ll never believe any of you, they might me.”

You can feel Abraham's chest vibrate under your palm, his strong muscles shifting. 

“If they put a hand on you!” He growls. 

You hope no one will ever tell him that's already happened. 

“No one shall ever touch your bride, not with all of us ready to protect them.” Mr. Lee says. 

“No, that can't happen or it will truly look like I am not free to talk with them. And I don't want them in our space.”

“I'm not letting you be alone at their mercy. It is not negotiable.”

You recognise the possessive tone in Abraham's voice, understand that's his way to express his concern, and guilt envelops you like a blanket: he shouldn’t be suffering for you. He shouldn’t live in fear for you.

“The clearing is surrounded by trees.” Mr. Lee’s voice is reasonable. “We can easily hide there, they'll never see us.”

Abraham keeps you in his arms, after Mr. Lee leaves, his masculine smell, mixed with the horses’, fills your nostrils and calms you.

“Do you have to go back?” Your question is muffled against the wool of his jacket.

“No, Ben and his children can manage for today.”

Abraham’s arms tighten around your body, his face finds home against the curve of your neck.

“You don’t have to go. You don’t have to do this.”

“I know. I hate it.” It comes out more broken than what you’d like.

“I’ll never let them take you from me. Never!”

“That will never happen. I’m yours Abraham.”

His arms tighten to the point of pain and you wish you’d never have to leave the safety of his hold, of your vardo, to face the past again, after the onslaught that had been the inquest.

You still wish you were in Abraham’s arms, instead of standing in the clearing, having to endure the small talk of DCI Anderson.

“I’m glad you called, Mrs. Heron.” He says with a flat tone: now that you’re here he doesn’t have to pretend.

“I didn’t feel like I had any other choice, DCI.”

“I’m sorry you feel this way, Mrs. Heron. My job is asking questions, even when people don’t want to answer them, it is no one’s fault.”

“In this case, your enquiries are about a matter that has been closed and that reopens a wound, DCI Anderson.”

You know all your answers are stiff, but you can’t help but feel the same wave of pain you did when Badger’s Crossing was set ablaze, killing many of the people you used to call friends.

“It wasn’t my goal, Mrs. Heron and I am truly sorry.”

You want to ask him how much truth there is, since his DS snorts at your words, but you don’t want to derail this conversation.

“You should ask your questions, DCI Anderson.” You try to inject as much steel as you can in your words: those men don’t need to know how off putting this whole conversation feels.

DCI Anderson’s cold eyes bore into yours, trying to assess you.

“Badger’s Crossing was an idyllic place to live. Why not go back?”

You bark an unhappy laugh at his face: you can’t help yourself, this man is far more of an imbecile than you thought he was!

“I think you should scrap that ideal country village image from your mind, DCI. Badger’s Crossing has been my home for years, but it wasn’t an idyll. What happened was a long time coming.”

“The arson? The murders? It is hard to believe, Mrs. Heron.”

“To you, maybe, who live in the big city. I have been living there since the war, I knew those people and the violence was simmering.”

“Mr. Simmons was a decorated official…”

“Who used to beat his wife into a bloody pulp.” You don’t let him finish.

“A bit of behavior correction never hurt anyone.” The DC adds, and you know he pulls that at home constantly.

“Truly? She mustn't have gotten the idea when she decided to leave, instead of risking her life every day!”

“You shouldn’t exaggerate, Mrs. Heron.” DCI Anderson intervenes.

“I am not and this is the truth. Take it or leave it, I don’t care if you like it. Mr. Simmons was a cruel man who loved bullying anyone smaller and less strong than he was. From the moment his wife left, he started raining his violence on the whole community; constable Smith knew and did nothing to stop him.”

“I don’t see how scolding two gypsy girls is raining violence.” the DC adds with a scowl. “They were going to steal anyway. He did what any good man should.”

“What happened to be considered innocent until proven guilty? He berated those girls without any reason and didn’t like it when I told him to stop. It happens when you act the asshole in public!”

“I didn’t go to war to hear this disrespect!” DC Thomas advances towards you and you fear the men would do something stupid. “A man has the right to protect his community!”

“Well, both my parents died during an air blitz, this gives me the right to protect anyone, according to your logic.”

“Mrs. Heron, my colleague doesn’t want to offend anyone, but we all know how those people are.”

“Oh, so you know all of them. You probably know the whole of humanity. Did you know that Mr. Simmons attacked and threatened his neighbors for no reason? That Mrs. Ashtown and her son were two blackmailers and that the wife of the vicar had intercourse with half of the men in town? Badger’s Crossing was my home and had many secrets.”

You take a big breath as you let the men absorb the barrage of information.

“We all had secrets, only exacerbated by living in such a small community. Mr. Simmons needed help, he came back from the war a different man, more cruel than he ever was and lived among us, until he did the unthinkable.”

You will never know why he did what he did, what did the Ashcrofts did to deserve to be annihilated and if Mr. Simmons ever wanted to destroy the whole village, or if he couldn't control the fire he set at his neighbor’s home.

No one will ever answer those questions.

“You want to know why I chose this life? Because that place is cursed now and I can’t live in another village without thinking about Badger’s Crossing, without imagining the horrors hiding behind the nice cottages and farms.”

You move the patch of hair you use to hide the burn marks on the side of your head.

“I have to live with this. I have more on my body and I was lucky enough to find a way out of the burning village.”

Abraham saved you. He faced the flames and the smoke to pull you out of the inferno that was your home, when you were too frightened to find a way out yourself; you often wonder if your birth parents felt that way during the air blitz that killed them, if fear petrified them as your home caved on them, or if your dad had tried to save you mum, and failed in the process. 

“Is this enough of a reason?” You ask, removing the fingerless gloves you always wear and roll your sleeves to show the extent of the damage.

Both men are visibly repulsed by the mess that’s your skin and whatever questions they might still have, die on their lips: DCI Anderson’s cold demeanor seems to fall as his eyes land on your body and you know he’s trying to imagine if there’s more scars that you’re not showing, DC Thomas looks haunted and you wonder if he’s seeing someone else, someone who never made it home.

“It was my husband’s people who nursed me into health, as the inquest went on. They went against their own interests to keep me safe and sound, no survivor of Badger’s Crossing ever came forth to ask about me, how I was fairing, and those people knew me ever since I was evacuated there. They saw me grow up and be adopted, they came to me at the library asking for reading suggestions, they bought their antiques at my adopted dad’s shop. I was part of the village life and no one wondered about my health.”

Slowly you cover your scars and adjust your hair.

“And you ask me why I don’t want to go back to that life?”

You don’t know what those men came looking for, or if your answers were what they wanted, the only thing you know is that you feel drained, that your feet barely carry you away from the clearing and that those men let you go with haunted eyes; not that you care.

You seek Abraham’s embrace as soon as you’re away from the clearing, ignoring the men around you: you’re shook and need to be with him, as he does.

Abraham had to be stopped by the other men as soon as he sensed DC Thomas’s animosity towards you, his rage the only way he knew how to express his fear for you, and the pain, when you had to show those men your scars, as if your words weren’t enough to justify your decisions. 

Ever since the fire, he lives with the fear of losing you, of harm befalling you and him not being able to come to your rescue again. In his life before you he had never thought he would care for someone as much as he does for you. He was raised in the knowledge that he needed to be the good man who provides for and  protects his family; the fire had showed him that there’s a limit to what he can do to fulfill this, that anything can happen to you and he would not be able to protect you: how is he supposed to live with this? When the buried past comes haunting you and you have to relive it, and he is powerless against it?

Abraham helps you up enter the vardo and gently removes your thick jacket and boots, he seems to be unable to keep his hands away from your body to show his brain that you’re real and alive, and still with him, that those men hadn’t kidnapped you to bring you back to that accursed place.

You let him remove the pins in your hair and the bandana you always wear and follow him to the sofa in front of the stove, where he makes you sit and covers you with a thick blanket, one of the memories from his own mother and he makes tea for you.

He feels big and clumsy with the dainty tea set in his hands and the biscuit box that you two are supposed to replace, but he needs to move, to do something, anything to ward his fears away.

“Abe?” You raise your hand to grab his trousers. “Abe, come here?”

He falls between your splayed legs to hug you and you hide your face against the side of his neck to muffle your sobs; you can’t control your emotions anymore and simply let go, opening the floodgates as you grab your husband with desperation and he hugs you as tight has he can, crushing you against his body in the vain attempt to absorb you within himself, the only place he knows you’ll ever be safe.

He knows he’s possessive and that it’s hard for you to accept, free as you are, but how is he supposed to show you that he cares? He is a simple man, words don’t come easily for him as they do you, he has to make sure that you know how important you are for him, in any way possible.

His big hands caress your head and back with a gentleness that’s still foreign to him, he murmurs in your ear the same nonsense he does with the horses when they are skittish, until you stop crying and are silently hugging him with all your might.

“Abe?”

Your voice sounds so small it breaks his heart.

“Yes, my love?”

He tries to keep his emotions under control for you, because that’s what you need, but he hears the tremble in his own voice and hates it.

“Will you make love to me? Put your child in my belly? Show anyone who comes knocking that I belong with you?”

You two have been trying since your wedding night, without any luck. You asking him this, now, it’s your way to show him how much you care, your unwillingness to be parted from him, to change your body irreversibly, this time on your own terms.

“Yes, I will.”.

Abraham unfolds his body and stands to his full height, before he lifts you up, bridal style, to carry you to the bed.

With infinite care he sits your there and starts removing your clothes, kissing your scars as they come to light, until you’re naked in front of him, in all your glory.

“I don’t know how you can stand looking at me.”

“I don’t have to stand anything. I chose you for myself and that’s all it matters to me.”.

The certainty of his voice, the blaze in his blue eyes tell you that he is not lying; perhaps another man would wax poetic about your ruined skin, he touches you with reverence and love, calloused hands that become feathers where he knows you still hurt, chapped lips that leave butterfly kisses everywhere as he undresses himself, until he’s naked in front of you, strong muscles born of hard work and his cock, hard and leaking already, just for you.

“I need you Abe, don’t make me wait.” You beg, spreading your legs to show him just how much you need him.

“Never.” He growls from between your thighs.

His hands are strong on your hips when he pulls you towards his mouth, his tongue thirsty for all the sweet nectar you’re about to give him and he feasts on you, his lips everywhere on your cunt, sucking, kissing, nibbling; he moans when your juices hit his tastebuds, making you shiver in his hold and his lips fasten around your clit, sucking harshly, hungrily for more as his fingers explore your depths, looking for that special place that makes you kick against his face and he fucks against it, fast and unforgiving, needing you as wet as possible, mad for him as he is for you.

Your hands grab his hair and pull, desperately, trying to control his movements, how fast he’s throwing you in the throes of your own orgasm, to no avail: you’re at his mercy, your hips are pushing against his face without your control, seeking the pleasure he’s giving you, rubbing against his nose and chin, until he’s drenched and fucking your hole with his tongue becomes a need and you keen, muscles clenching desperately around the intrusion, your own legs manacles around his face and he woudln’t want to die in any other way but drowning in your juices.

He removes his face with a grunt and you cry out, your orgasm so close.

“Ride me. I want you to feel me in your throat. Remind you whom you belong to.” He growls, low and hungry, as he lays on the bed.

His cock is proud and red, small pearls of precum bubble on the tip and you swiftly lick them, not wanting any of his essence to go to waste.

You’re so wet when you straddle him, your hole loose already for him that his broad head breaches you easily as his nails rake down your unburnt skin, his hands explore your body possessively, one finding home around your throat, the other grabbing your hips to help you move with gentle figures if eight that make his cock burrow inside your cunt all the tighter.

You grind against his body, your clit sending shockwaves of pleasure with every pass, his hand curls around your throat when you start begging for his cock, to go faster, please! He intends to savor you properly, suck on your breasts as you move over him and keen and moan when he finds that spot again and bullies it mercilessly.

“Abe please!” You sound so pitiful and lost, luckily he’s here to keep you safe. “You’re spitting me in two! Abe please!”

His hips move faster now, a trot that has your breasts sway over his face and your cunt squelch around his cock, your muscles pulling him in with every pass and his hands are the only thing keeping you up, now that his hips are pistoning inside of you and your vision blurs with tears and pleasure.

“Pleasepleaseplease.” 

You beg and you feel yourself tighten painfully, your cunt barely able now to house his massive erection and he keeps going, fucking you mercilessly, opening you up to his invasion, spurred by your desperate keens of pleasure.

You come with a scream, your body rigid as he keeps fucking you, prolonging the pleasure until he has to slip out: he’s not done with you.

You’re still trembling over him when he rolls you on your back and bends your legs against your chest, before entering you again with a grunt of pleasure.

You choke on your words as he fucks you hard and fast, your legs around his hips, his hands grabbing the mattress to propel himself inside of you and you’re reduced to a puddle of pleasure and tears, your cunt sore and hungry for his cock and seed, his head reaching so deep inside of you it almost hurts with how full you feel.

You can feel another orgasm surging, stronger than the one before, your whole body curls around him and he has to be brutal to keep fucking you, opening you up again and again, deaf to your pathethic sounds of pleasure, spurred on by your nails on his skin and the small pain they’re causing him.

You’re crying now, your whole body arching under him, your cunt strangling him when his thumb brutalizes your poor clit and you beg him, pathetic and desperate for what you don’t know, needing the pleasure and fearing the band tightening in your belly.

You come abruptly, and he follows you with three sharp pushes and stays rooted inside of you, his weight carried by his arms and legs, his face hidden in the curve of your neck.

“I can’t risk having any of it going to waste.” He groans in your ear.

You kiss him, hungry for him as your cunt is for his seed.

“I can’t wait to have your baby.” You pant, body still shaking.

“I can’t wait to see you full with my seed. Time and time again. See your belly swell and your breast fill out. Show everyone that you’re mine.”

“Yes Abraham, yes. Let everyone know I’m yours.”

He kisses you again and you try to push your heel against his lower back when he moves to dismount.

“Don’t go anywhere. I want to feel you grow hard inside of me.”.

He groans, eyes crossing at your words: he’ll do anything for you, anything you ask, as long as you’re happy and safe.

[no-nameno-face]

Auburn Thoughts (Pt.2)

Pairing: Reader x Ellie Williams

Summary:  When plans to meet up go awry, you flee. Unsure of your feelings, and convinced they are one sided, you are contacted by an old friend. You decide to do something out of character. Anything to get your mind off of her.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, Minors do not interact. Jealousy, Angst, Alcohol, Drinking, Alcohol Abuse, Smoking Weed, vague mentions of SA, creepy guy, Anxiety (please let me know if there's any I forgot)

Author's Notes: Jealous Ellie!! Jealous Reader!! Protective Ellie!! I'm obsessed. I love jealous Ellie with my whole heart. Actively reminding myself to take this story slow… anyways I'm very excited to see where this story goes. hope you enjoy this chapter :) 

Part 1

Part 3 (With Audio)

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Back at my dorm, I find myself doodling the image of her bitten lips. Auburn thoughts.

______________________________________________________________

I wake up the next morning, tired. I stayed up too late again. Drawing. I stretch my arms above my head and squint my eyes at the light coming through my windows. Class. I have class. My brain talks but my body does not move. I’m so tired. I reach over and grab my phone, checking the time. I bolt up in my bed. Fuck, I'm going to be so late. 

I  rush to my closet and pull on a light green oversized sweatshirt I thrifted forever ago, and throw on some light wash jeans. They have light paint splatters on them but honestly most of my clothes do. Shoving socks on my feet I slip them into my white tennis shoes. On my way out I stop in the mirror and assess the damage. Bed head and bags under my eyes. I grab a hair tie and rushedly pull it up into a messy high ponytail. I poke the dark circles under my exhausted eyes but decide there's nothing I can do in the time I have, so I head out the door, turning off the lights and locking it behind me.

Sitting in my second class of the day I remember my evening plans. Suddenly I wish I had gotten a bit more ready. After class is over I rush to the bathroom and splash cold water on my face, hoping it would bring down some of the puffiness that my restless night lended me. I look at my reflection. “Fuck,” I say under my breath as I lean on the counter looking down at the running water. What is this? Don’t think too much about it. I look at myself and practice a smile, turning my face to observe. My face drops. “Shit. What is wrong with me?” I turn the faucet off and walk out of the bathroom, to my next class.

4:30, I’m early. That's okay, god knows my project could use some work. I put my headphones in and tuck my knee up to my chest resuming the apple from yesterday. I find myself checking the time regularly, and it feels like it's passing abnormally slow. 

The door opens and I turn expecting to see Ellie, but another girl walks in. I recognize her from the halls. Slender and feminine, pretty features and short dark hair. Striking honestly, especially in comparison to my drained appearance. A subtle shade of insecurity settles over me. I overlook it. She must be in a different class time than Ellie and I. Turning back to my work she sits a couple seats to the left of me. She doesn't acknowledge me, I don't think much about it. People in the art department tend to be more introverted, so this is a typical encounter. 

Shortly after resuming my work the door opens again, I turn. Green eyes. Wearing a thick flannel, jeans, and her same old sneakers. Her hair is half down today, the other half in a bun. Loose strands framing her face. I notice her freckles a bit extra today, small constellations littering her cheeks.  I smile and she returns it.

“So you decided to show up!” I say, turning back to my canvas a bit flushed.

“What? Did you think I was gonna stand you up or some shit?” she says with a smile in her voice as she makes her way to you. 

“Hey you never kn-” 

“Ellie!” A voice cuts me off. “I didn't know you were coming today!” I look to the girl sitting on my left, she's craned her head around to face Ellie beaming at her. 

“Oh!” she sounded startled. “Hi Cat.” Ellie says with a courteous smile that doesn't meet her eyes. The girl gets up and basically prances up to her, wrapping her arms around Ellies neck. Ellie's eyes meet mine as I dart back to my work. Staring past my canvas. I'm face to face with an unfamiliar pit in my stomach. I try not to listen to their conversation, my heartbeat building in my ears is loud enough to drone most of it out. Most of it. 

“It's been so long,” Cat…

“You're normally not here this late” Ellie…

“Yeah, I’ll have to start coming more often!” Cat..

Heartbeat thudding. 

“Well you should call me later! We could catch dinner when you're done here.” I feel eyes on me. “Catch up a bit.” Cat…

Louder pulsing in my ears.

Next thing I hear is the seat to my right creaks and snaps me out of it. I glance over at Ellie and can't get out of my head fast enough to say anything. I look back to my painting. She looks at me, then my painting. 

“It looks good.” Her voice comes out awkward. I notice her fidgeting with her hands. 

“Thanks.” I say without looking her way. 

“Umm, well should i grab my stuff?” she suggests.

“Actually, I didn't sleep well last night.” I say looking down at my hands in my lap. Gripping each other to keep from shaking. What is wrong with me? “I'm pretty tired.” I glimpse at her quickly then back to my hands. “I’m gonna head out.” I say standing up and start walking to the sink to rinse my brushes. Ellie gets up and tries to follow me but is stopped by Cat. Cat. 

“You can hang with me El’s,” a pang in my gut at the familiarity in the nickname. “I've got another 30 minutes or so of work to do here!” her voice reignites the thudding. All I hear is mumbles behind my own spiraling thoughts. I wash my brushes fast and carelessly, then load them, still wet, into my case. I haul my canvas away and walk out the door. I walk fast down the halls, my throat feels dry, my chest feels tight. My eyes feel prickly. I hit the wall of cold air past the front doors. What the fuck. I take a gasp of the icy air. Then head in the direction of my dorm. Heartbeat heavy.

______________________________________________________________

My phone rings. I lay on my bed staring into the ceiling. Seeing arms around her. The ringing stops. Then it starts again. I groan and reach my arm over to grab it. Chloe, my friend  who I'd rather neglected over the past art filled days. I put my phone to my ear,

“Hey chlo.”

“Hey bitch. Where the fuck have you been?” I smile at her voice, rubbing the back of my neck.

“I have this gnarly realism project in my painting class. It's taking all of the little mental capacity I have” I say, mind on Ellie. Ellie and Cat. my smile fades.

“Oh, yeah. That's shit. Well it's Saturday, and since you owe me for being MIA, you are coming out with me tonight.” To be honest, a drink sounded pretty nice right now.

“Sure, what time?”

“Wait really? You’re down?”

“Yeah, I could use a distraction.” From her.

“Period! I'll pick you up at 9! We are going for… slutty chic.” I smile down at my legs. 

“We’ll see.”

“I swear to god if you don't dress up im gonna-”

“Bye Chlo! See you at 9!” I say with a forced laugh, hanging up the phone. I throw myself back on the bed and lay there for a moment before I finally force myself to sit up and make my way to my closet. 

______________________________________________________________

[here!] My phone dings. I take one last look in my mirror, evaluating. A fitted black racer-back cropped to my upper stomach, a large key hole at the neck exposing some of my cleavage, I pull it up a bit self consciously. My skirt, a matching set to the top sits a couple inches beneath, exposing a sliver of my stomach. The fitted black skirt ends before my resting hands do. I tug at it, too short. I grab a cropped fluffy black jacket from the rack behind me and slouch it over my shoulders, then I’m bending over to pull on some black heels over my dark tights. Looking back to my reflection I look taller, elongated. 

I lean in and double check my makeup. A soft smokey eye, with a thin line of dark eyeliner. Blush and highlighter shape my nose a bit more than normal. My eyes shift to my hair, slicked back in a high ponytail, I lean my head to the side grabbing my pony and pulling it over my shoulder sighing at my reflection before I grab my black bag and head out to Chloe's car. 

I hear her before I see her, music blaring. She's applying lip gloss in her visor mirror. I climb into the passenger seat, holding my skirt down while I do so. She glances at me, “Oh my god. you look so hot.” she says, eyes boggling jokingly at me.

“Oh shut up,” I roll my eyes at her reaching my hand out to borrow her gloss, she hands it over and I apply it in the mirror of my visor just like she had done. 

The drive consists of her updating me on her sexual escapades. I smile, laugh, and gasp at her stories as we wind through the streets. This girl is wild. God, I love her. 

We pull up to a house and try to find parking among the cars lining the street. Finally finding an empty spot, she does her best attempt at parallel parking. I laugh at her focused face and multiple failed attempts. She tells me to fuck off. 

Walking up to the house We pass a group of guys, they eye us up grinning. Chloe smiles at them, I cross my arms across my chest and look at the pathway to the front door. As we get closer the music pounds in my ears getting louder until we are inside. There's a lot of people here, energy pulsing through the thick air. I feel a bit overwhelmed. Chloe, reading my face, grabs my hands.

“Drinks!” she exclaimes with a wide warm smile. Her blonde hair bouncing behind her as she turned and pulled me by the hand to a table in the living room. She pours us a shot of something clear, tapping our glasses together then on the table. The liquor going down my throat is warm and stinging. We cringe at each other and laugh at our sour faces. After another shot, this time a bit easier, I pour myself a mixed drink and sip it to get the taste out of my mouth. It's not much better, too strong, but I sip away at it. 

Chloe has drifted to the kitchen, giving eyes to some guy. I watch her touch his shoulder laughing at something he said and I smile at my now empty drink. Man, she's got game. I can feel the heat in my cheeks as the drink combines with the body heat of all these strangers. It's nice. For a moment I didnt even think about her.

Fuck.

Smile gone, I sigh and walk to the drink table, a bit wobblier than when I arrived, pouring myself another tall glass.  Maybe another drink will get the images of her out of my head. I sip at my new concoction, barely tasting it as I stumble to find a bathroom. I knock. Met with no response, I walk in and lock the door behind me. I look in the mirror and my hooded eyes look back at me. I smile at myself. I do look pretty good, I thought. I turn on the tap and run cold water over my hands, I indulge in the drunken sensation of it. 

I head back out into the crowded hall, people scattered along the wells leaning, chatting, even a couple messily making out. I subtly blanch at the boldness of it. Walking past them, eyes drifting over strangers, observing. Suddenly my eyes freeze, locked onto green. No , no, no. An exhale deepens her chest releasing a large puff of smoke from her lips. Her lips. She's sat with knees up on the couch, leaning against the arm. A blunt resting in between her fingers. Her eyes are locked on me, a look of shock shining over her already glazed eyes. Her eyes wander down my body, evaluating my every detail. Her brows furrowed a bit and I swear I saw her chew the inside of her cheek, before her eyes snaped back to mine. My eyes shift to the girl on the couch next to her. Short dark hair. My eyes trace her hand resting on Ellie’s thigh. My stomach twists. I turn sharply and walk to the kitchen, seeing everything through a tinge of green. 

I approach Chloe. She smiles at me and asks how I'm feeling. “Drunk” I respond with a small empty smile. 

“Drunk enough to dance?” she asks. Not sure if it was the liquid courage or a vengeful spirit possessing my body, I put my cup to my lips, downing the drink. I grabbed her hand and led her to the living room. Spinning her to face me, we begin swaying quickly to the beat of the music in the mass of dancing people. My hands skim up the curves of my body as we smile at each other. I tilt my head back and close my eyes, Ellie is in the darkness behind my eyelids. Then my hands are on Chloes waist turning her against me, we dance together. She’s pressed against me, my hands following the rhythm of her hips. When the song ends and transitions to another she laughs drunkenly, turning back to me and locking her hands around my neck.

“Okay, keep dancing.” I obliged. “See that guy behind me. Dark hair, tall. Definitely looking at my ass.” She looks at me with a smirk. I scan the faces in the kitchen, and locate the guy she's talking about. He was indeed staring at her ass. “Im gonna fuck him tonight. I bet you a million dollars.” 

“That's a losing horse man, I see how he's looking at you, I'm not taking those odds.” I laugh at her, shifting my eyes as we sway together, my hands resting on her waist. Images begin blurring together, until my vision locks in on the girl leaning against the entryway. Arms crossed against her chest, one hand holding her still lit blunt. Eyes pinned to mine. Darkened green. The haze of people seems to blur around her. I see her suck against her teeth, she doesn't look away. I hold her gaze while I turn and begin dancing on Chloe, now her hands roam my waist. I watch as Ellie takes a long drag. Ellie. Chloe laughs into my neck.

“Jeez. you're putting on a show! Who are you performing for?” she says over the music scanning the crowd. My eyes are on green. I feel my face flush as I see Ellie turn on her heels and head back into the hall. Could she hear us? I turn back to Chloe.

“I'm gonna take a breather.” I say with a smile. She boos me as I walk away into the kitchen, “you're up,” I nod to the guy eyeing her. He heads her way. My vision sways, and I lean against the counter. I drop my head, I feel heavy. My body feels all the gravity of the world at this moment. What the fuck did I just do.

I stand up. Turning to walk to the bathroom, suddenly too drunk. I take staggered steps down the hall, my eyes looking over the couch, once occupied. Now only the black haired girl sat there chatting with someone, I didn't care enough to see who. She probably left, my thoughts told me. Not sure if I was reassured or upset by the idea. I stumble into the door. It sways open and I follow its momentum until my hips hit the counter and my hands fall next to the sink. I look at them.

Click.

My head shot up in the mirror, Ellie was leaning against the door watching my reflection.

“Your friend’s right, that was quite the show.” she says in a dry voice, looking at me emotionless. 

“Where's your girlfriend?” My voice slurs at her, a bit harsher than I intended. The wrinkle between her brows deepen at this. 

“Is that what this is over,”  she said, rolling her blood shot eyes to the ceiling. I turn to her, leaning back against the counter. 

“This isn't over anything.” I know I'm lying. I wonder if she does too. What's your problem?” I say through squinted eyes.

“My problem?”

“Yeah, whats your fucking deal? Looking at me like that, with your girl basically on your lap.” I was too far into my drinking to be shocked by my bluntness. My green was showing. I didn't have enough sense to care. Her eyes were dark. 

“She's not my girl.”

“Okay,” I  let out a mean laugh looking up, then back to her. “Sure.” 

She steps towards me, my breath catches in my throat. “What about your girl?” She scowls at me, “The one you were dancing on,” she looks down to my hands  “touching.” Her  head still angled down but her eyes dart up to meet mine again.  She looks angry. Her eyes stir something in my stomach. This is so unlike that calm and collected sarcastic girl from class.

“What about it?” I say to her with a rude smirk, my tongue poking the inside of my cheek as I glare into her. She stares into me, her eyes drift to my lips, then back to me. Piercing me. I feel myself go pale. “Stop looking at me like that,” my voice is softer than I anticipated. A harsh contrast to my aggressive tone. “I can't handle...” my voice trails off. 

She looks at me for a second, softening the slightest amount. Contemplating. “You’re drunk.” She resigns. “Who's your ride? I think it’s time you head out.” 

“Ellie, im not your fucking responsibility. I can handle myself.” My confidence fluctuates again. I try to pass her to get to the door, stumbling over my own feet. Her hand slams against the door, holding it shut. She turns, keeping her hand on the door. 

“Dont be fucking stupid.” I gape at her. “Don't act like you didn't see all the guys watching you.” I didn't. Honestly. I only saw her. “You go out there like this and your easy fucking picking. Do you know how easy it would be for a guy to..” her voice stops. Her hand on the door squeezes into a fist, white knuckles. “I mean shit you left the door open when you came in here, what if it wasn't me that came in?” Her eyes are angry again, protective. My head pounds realizing she's right. I sigh and look down at my hands now clasped together. My liquid confidence faltered by the reminder of my fragility. 

“Fine.” I say barely above a whisper. Her eyes hesitated on me. Softening a bit more. 

“Come on,” she says, opening the door letting me out first. She trails behind me, an overwhelming presence. I walk to the living room, peering around for Chloe. She's not there. I pull my phone out and squint my eyes to keep the words from blurring together. I finally found her contact and pressed call. I hold it to my ear plugging the other one trying to hear over the music. Sent to voicemail. 

“Fuck,” I mumble under my breath. I press call again. It rings a bit longer this time, then voicemail. I turn to look at Ellie, she's closer than I expected. My heart thuds. I look up slightly to meet her eyes. I'm sure she would have stepped away if it weren't for the people surrounding us. “She's not picking up.” I say looking down to the phone in my hands then back to her. I don't know what to do, I’m nervous, too far gone to have a poker face of any kind. She looks at me with a tinge of concern in her eyes, then scans over the crowd, before redirecting her gaze to me. 

“Okay, follow me. She says as she turns and carves her way through the crowd. I follow behind her watching my feet to make sure I don’t trip when my body thuds against something.

I look up and see a man looking down at me. “Sorry sweetheart.” he smiles a toothy grin at me, scanning down my body as I back away from him.

I go to step around him, mumbling a small “excuse me,” but he steps in my path. 

“Where ya going?” he leans his head down by me, “Can I come with?” he breathes moist air onto me, the smell of alcohol hot on his breath. The sound of blood rushes in my ears. 

Suddenly, a hand on my waist. “Hey man, back the fuck up.” an aggressive voice rings. Eyes jump to see Ellie standing next to me. She's staring at him with narrow eyes, then looks at me. Her eyes are a statement. I got you. I look down to the floor. I feel her hand pulling me with her.

“Woah, dude.” he throws his hands up mockingly. “We were in the middle of something!” He called after us laughing. Her grip on me tightens, and I focus on the feel of it to drown out my anxiety.

Leading me out of the house, we get outside and my distraction disappears as she drops her hand.  Mumbling profanities under her breath, walking fast. I follow behind her and she turns to check I’m still with her. 

“Where are we going?” I ask, trying to keep up with her.

“I'm taking you home.” 

[thesugarclubs-blog]

Moonlight - Bucky Barnes x OC

warnings: college au, hockey boy bucky, friends to lovers

word count: 6.2k

WP: https://www.wattpad.com/1418435295-moonlight-luna

Vibe: “I know.” He said with soft furrowed brows. “I’m real sorry Luna.”

She nodded and glanced around the stadium at everyone staring at them. “I forgive you.” She said looking back at him. “Anyone who is crazy enough to come out bare ass on the ice deserves that.” Luna grinned.

Masterlist

Luna loved her dorm room. It was quiet, strung with vine lights and just enough posters that the beige walls felt normal. The room quickly became her safe space. She loved it here. 

“Luuuuunaaa.” That familiar voice rang behind her door. 

She groaned but couldn’t help the smile that tugged at the corners of her lips. Sitting up in her bed, she waited a moment. “3…2…1–”

“Luna Jackson, I know you’re hiding in that cave, I will break this door down.” Bucky said, his voice muffled against the wood. She laughed knowing that he would probably try. “Is that a laugh I heard? Does the idea of me hurting myself just to see you make you laugh!” By now he was also laughing. 

Luna stood and grabbed the door, tugging it open with her signature frown. “My door isn’t a beer can tower you can just put your head through.” 

“I wore a helmet.” He smirked leaning against the door frame, “once. It really got in the way the second time…. And the third.” 

Luna raised a brow, “that explains so much.” 

He finally glanced down at her, that Barnes smile proving to send a shot of warmth straight to her belly. “You wound me, pretty girl.” 

“You’ll survive.” She grinned and turned on her heel to jump back onto her bed. 

Bucky tugged the back of her shirt shaking his head as she turned to look at him. “You aren’t crawling back into that bed. You promised you’d come to the rink with me.” 

“If I remember correctly you assumed I was coming.” She scowled. “The rink is cold and my bed is warm. Cozy warm. Makes you want hot chocolate and a good book warm.” 

He smirked. “If you come with me I’ll buy you a hot chocolate there.”

"Not the same thing," she pouted. "Not the same thing at all."

"I'll make sure you stay warm," he pressed, bouncing eagerly on the balls of his feet.

"Don't be perverse," Luna warned, screwing her face up in mock disgust.

"I meant that you could wear my jersey, jeez," Bucky huffed but there was a knowing smirk building in the corner of his mouth.

"You should be so lucky," she said but then let out a world-weary sigh. "Fine. Gimme ten minutes to change."

Crossing the room, Luna began pulling clothes from her closet. She knew damn well how cold that rink was when she wasn’t working up a sweat on the ice, usually dragged on by Bucky who’d had enough of running drills and challenged her to races she’d never win. 

She chucked her warmest sweater onto the bed, a pair of thermal leggings to wear under her jeans and the thickest socks she owned and then turned to Bucky who was still leaning in her doorway. He was watching her with that look he gets sometimes, eyes soft and hazy. 

“If you think you’re about to get lucky Barnes, you can think again.” Luna twirled her finger in the air, pointing out into the hall, and Bucky sagged with a dramatic groan as he turned around. “I won’t be long.”

She heard him grumble a quiet "yeah yeah" under his breath before he left, throwing her one sneaky, quick glance over his shoulder as she shut the door to her room, the lingering look setting off butterflies that she'll deny with all her might they exist.

Barnes was probably one of the very few people in her life that could make her give up a warm bed and a book in the calmness of her room in exchange for going out and having fun. Luna felt lucky for knowing him.

After shimying into her jeans, she tugged on her sweater, her warmest one was coincidentally the emerald green one Bucky had once said he loved because it brought out her eyes. Everytime she wore it he gave her a look that was enough to warm her up even if the temperatures were well below zero. She huffed out a breath shaking away the thought as she laced up her docs before grabbing her bag and her current read just in case. 

“I’m gonna open the door Bucky, you might wanna step away from it,” she laughed

“All clear!” His muffled voice murmured from the other side. 

“Everytime,” she whispered, shaking her head. “Alright, let’s go Barnes before I change my mind.” 

“Aw, you wouldn’t do that to me sweets” he smiled as he took her in, “I love that on ya Jackson.” His eyes drifted down to the book tucked under her arm. 

“Everytime,” he laughed.

They walked down the hallway side by side, Bucky hovering his palm over the small of the back like he always did.

His hand never touched her although secretly she wished he would. 

It was a gesture of friendly protection, showing the world that she was under his guard and belonged to him.

Luna would have never thought she'd be close to the star player of the hockey team, the center forward that was probably the center of a lot of college girl's sex dreams. She mentally rolled her eyes by thinking about all the girls that waited for him at every practice and game just to get a puck, a disgustingly sweaty jersey, or his phone number.

Luna took a deep breath as they walked into the rec center, preparing her lungs for the seasonal chill that filled the space when the arena floor was covered with ice. She glanced up at Bucky to see that light in his eyes sparkle. The one he always got when he entered the building. His eyes flicked down to hers and that swarm of butterflies she consistently had to swear off started up again in her chest. "What did you drag me down here for exactly?" 

The grin that spread across his features both terrified her and warmed her at the same time. "Hot chocolate?" He smirked. 

Luna narrowed her eyes at him. "I somehow doubt that." 

"Can't a guy just want to spend time with his Luna whenever he wants?" He leaned forward, tucking his chin down to meet her gaze.

"Your Luna?" She replied indignantly. "Since when?"

"Always," Bucky shrugged, "You got a problem with that?"

Luna huffed and stormed over to her usual seat by the side of the rink and dropped her bag on the floor. There was a package there, wrapped in brown paper, with her name printed on it in block capitals. It was heavy in her hands, and bulky, and the paper had already begun to tear through in one corner as something metallic and sharp poked through. She started there, ripping open the wrappings to reveal a pair of skates. They were white with emerald-green laces and had yellow crescent moons painted along the sides. Gasping in surprise she turned to face Bucky, who approached carrying two hot chocolates and wore a cocky grin.

"Buck..."

"What? Your old ones were tattered and shit. I thought I'd give you a fighting chance at beating me in a race at least once," he said.

A familiar warmth spread throughout her, and for a moment Luna let her emotions show on her face. A soft smile tugging at the corners of her lips. She'd never had someone in her life that was so observant to little things the way that he was. From freshman orientation, Bucky had been like a thorn in her side that she couldn't get rid of in the best way possible. He made her smile more times than she'd ever admit and as she examined the new pair of skates in her hand, running her finger over the crescent moons, for a short moment, she let her real feelings creep in. 

"You know I don't need an advantage to beat you in a race," Luna cleared her throat, finally looking over to meet Bucky's sparkling blue eyes. 

With a snorted laugh, Bucky shook his head, "Well you've only won once, so I think you might," he joked, "but if you don't like 'em..." he started, reaching his hand out to take the skate. 

"No!" Luna pulled them away, "You put all this effort in, the least I could do is humor you," she smirked.

Bucky grinned down at her as he handed a hot chocolate over, extra whipped cream and chocolate sprinkles just how she liked it. 

“Oh, it’s on, little moon. Drink your hot chocolate and then lace up.” 

“Aye, aye, Captain.” Luna threw him a lazy two finger salute and took a sip of her drink, instantly feeling cold whipped cream smear across the tip of her nose. 

“You got a little something just…” Bucky murmured as he plopped down in the seat beside her. He reached out, swiping the cream from her nose with his finger and flashed her a lopsided smile. “There.”

She couldn't help the shuddered breath that escaped her as her eyes caught on the sight of Bucky sliding his thumb between his lips and sucking the whipped cream off of it. 

Luna quickly averted her eyes away from his, sitting down on the bench and busying her hands with the new skates while she hoped her hair covered her rosy cheeks.

"Just... just give me a minute to change into them then we can break them in," Luna told him. The flurry of feelings started to swell in her heart making it hard to speak.

She took one more sip of her hot chocolate before setting it beside her to bend over and unlace her boots. 

“You really wanna beat me that much you’re not gonna finish your hot chocolate,” he all but screeched. 

“Hey, I never leave a hot chocolate behind, one. Two, I just wanna get a feel of ‘em before I win, you know stretch my toes in them. That also gives you a chance to prepare for your imminent defeat Barnes,” she declared. 

“Feisty, I like it Jackson.” He mused

"You know it," she winked at him, looking up into his smiling eyes.

"Hiya Buck,"  a group of sophomores chorused as they skated past. Bucky turned his head towards the voices and waved, his eyes reluctant to leave hers.

"Your fanclub's in," she teased, standing up and testing her weight on the new blades.

Bucky rolled his eyes. "How do they feel?"

"Like they were made for me. You really shouldn't have, but I'm glad you did. Thank you." Luna smiled at him again. He really did make her feel warm and fuzzy inside, but in all the time they'd been friends he'd never made her feel that he wanted more, and that she was firmly parked in the friend zone.

"So, you'll abandon that hot chocolate and follow me on the ice, Jackson?"

Luna was so focused on testing the new blades that she hadn't realized that Bucky had changed into his own and was standing in front of her with his hand stretched out toward her. 

"Abandoning hot chocolate means bad luck. Not gonna risk it," she said before emptying the cup with her eyes fixed on him. When she set it back down, she let her tongue slip out, and carefully cleaned the remaining whipped cream around her lips. 

Bucky was still watching her, completely ignoring the same group of girls as they passed by them again with loud giggles and teasing "We need some help with skating. Maybe you can teach us, Buck" shouts. A playful smirk danced around his face before he slightly shook his head in amusement. 

"You're going to be the death of me one day," he mumbled before turning around and making his way to the open door that would let them enter the ice.

"That's too much pressure." Luna scrunched her nose as she set her hot chocolate down and stood up on wobbly legs. She always hated this part, getting from the regular floor to the ice. She felt like a baby deer trying to get there. Bucky, never failing to notice anything about her, reached for her elbow after one unsteady step and smiled warmly at her. 

"I've got you." 

Luna glanced up at him as she steadied herself and stepped onto the ice. "Thanks." She whispered, feeling her cheeks turn pink. 

"Anytime pretty girl."

A chorus of Bucks greeted them as soon as their blades hit the ice. With an apologetic shrug of his shoulders Bucky skated backwards away from her and towards the gaggle of puck bunnies that waited near the center of the rink. Luna clutched the barrier as she let herself become used to the lack of friction, eyeing their short sleeves and furry ear muffs with disdain.

She let out a scoff and pushed herself off, gliding slowly but gracefully towards the group. She’d skated all her life and was more than confident on the ice but her sense of self-preservation had always been stronger than Bucky's. It was the reason he always had her beat.

Ear piercing giggles sounded from the girls as Bucky charmed them, talking about his last game and how “easy” of a win it was. Luna was sure she saw her brain when she rolled her eyes as she finally got up beside Bucky. 

“And then just as the buzzer sounded, I shot the puck into the net right between the goalies knees,” he boasted, a proud smirk on his face as he looked down at Luna. 

With a soft laugh, blond shook her head, “you only made that shot because Wilson was picking a fight and had everyone distracted” 

“A wins a win” he winked with a shrug of his shoulders. 

“I think it was a great shot Bucky, the team couldn’t have done it without you,” a brunette practically sang, placing her hand on Buck’s bicep.

“That’s what they always say,” Bucky replied, beaming proudly as he glanced over at Luna for confirmation. 

Luna’s gaze had drifted to the brunette’s hand on Bucky’s arm, staring at it like she’d somehow developed telekinetic powers and any moment now the other girl would let go.

“Right, pretty girl?” Bucky pressed. 

Luna glanced up, sensing the daggers the girls were sending her for Bucky’s sweet term of endearment. 

“Hmm? Oh yeah, all the time,” she agreed.

Bucky furrowed his brows as if he sensed that she was uncomfortable with the dressed-up girls around them. The brunette was beaming at Bucky, revealing toothbrush-advertisement-white teeth and Luna had to admit that the sophomore was beautiful. She and Bucky would look great on the cover page of the campus' magazine. 

"I'm having trouble finding my balance in these skates. Do you have any tips, Buck?" the brunette asked, blinking with her fake eyelashes in his direction.

"Actually, I was here to help Luna break in her new skates and..."

"I'll be fine, Barnes. Give her a helping hand. She needs it. Even a newborn foal is steadier on its legs than this girl," Luna interrupted him with a shake of her hand. 

Bucky turned his head towards her, raising his brows in a silent 'Are you sure?', but she only gave him a shy smile in return.

The girls wouldn't have stopped harassing them until he finally helped out the brunette. She was looking at him with heart-eyes, giggling at every word he spoke, funny or not. It was always the same with him and the fangirls and she was sure he enjoyed bathing in attention.

"Alright. Let me see you skate and I’ll try to help," Bucky spoke towards the brunette again, watching the girl stumble over the ice with a contorted face.

Luna wasn't needed in the assessment, so she pushed off from where she was currently standing and started skating around the rink to get comfortable with the new skates.

Maybe she should have stayed in her cozy bed with a book. Then she wouldn't have to watch this awkward group date that reminded her a lot of 'The Bachelor'.

Ten minutes later, Luna stepped from the ice onto the rubber matting of the floor. She'd been quite happy skating around on her own, her thoughts back on the times when she'd taken ice dancing at elementary school, but one of the guys in her chem class had started to bug her. He'd been trying to catch her attention as she skated around but she didn't want to hang out with him. She'd come to the rink with Bucky. She looked back over in his direction but he was still basking in the attention of the puck bunnies, what was even more infuriating was that it was obvious that the girls knew what they were doing.

She picked up her hot chocolate and took a sip. It wasn't scalding hot like she had hoped but it was still warm enough that she enjoyed it. She leaned over the edge of the rink, watching everyone skate by. The group of girls and Bucky had migrated closer to her as he laughed with them. They pretended to trip over gouges in the ice, using any excuse they could to hold onto him. It didn't help the little green monster on her back that wanted to drag him away. 

Lost in her thoughts, Luna didn't realize that the girl who had asked for his help in the first place was skating towards her. In a moment, the girl knocked into her, splashing the hot chocolate all over Luna and her emerald sweater. "Hey!" 

The girl shot her a sickly sweet glare and shrugged. "Sorry!" 

Bucky skated over with his brows furrowed. The gaggle of girls following behind him. "I'm just so clumsy. I think I need more lessons, Buck what do you think?" 

Luna glanced down at herself. Her shirt and jeans were soaked. She knew it wasn't an accident just by the daggers coming her way from the girl and her friends. Her eyes flit to Bucky and his fist was covering his mouth. 

"Pretty girl, you gotta be more careful." He said, amusement pure in his voice. The girls burst out laughing and soon he followed, sending a sinking feeling through Luna.

“You’re telling me to be careful?” Luna snapped, her fury rising.

“Well, they’re new skates s’gonna take some time to get used to ‘em,” Bucky said, clueless innocence plastered all over his face.

“Yeah,” the chief bunny chimed in, resting her head against Bucky’s broad shoulder, “we can’t all be as good on the ice as Bucky. Maybe you should watch him for some pointers.”

“Watch him?” Luna fumed, reaching boiling point as she took in Bucky’s banal smile. “Watch him?! Watch this!”

She sank to her knees on the ice and began to unlace her skates.

She tugged at the boots, cursing them as they caught on her heel, not yet worn into the shape of her feet. With one off, it fell to the ice, metal blade clattering before the other boot joined it and Luna huffed, climbing to up from her knees. The ice soaked through her socks, chilling and wet as she clutched the skates in her hands. 

“Luna, what are you—“ 

Bucky’s words died on his tongue as Luna launched a skate at him. 

“You can take your brand new fuckin’ skates, Barnes. And shove them up—” she threw the other skate and it bounced off his thigh before landing at his feet, “your ass.” 

And with that, she stormed off the ice.

Luna could hear the commotion behind her as she grabbed her book and boots and ran towards the door of the rec center. The gasps at her actions and concern that the girls had shown Bucky were quickly covered by him shouting her name after her. She paused, just once, and looked behind her. Bucky had picked up her skates and was making his way off the ice, the girls behind him long forgotten. 

Luna didn't stop running until she was back at the dorm. She was still in just her socks, she hadn't wanted to stop to put on her boots in case he caught up to her. She was so mad she was in tears and she didn't want to let anyone see her cry. She slammed her door shut, locked it and threw herself onto her bed.

Luna laid there for a while. The tears had stopped and were replaced with the knowing feeling that the feelings that secretly laid beneath the surface for Bucky would never come to light. 

A soft knock came across her door and her eyes slid closed. "Luna?" Bucky asked. She heard a soft thud followed by the sound of him sliding down the door. 

"Go away, Bucky." She said softly. 

"You forgot your skates...and left your shoes out." His voice sounded so small compared to his usual boisterous self and she hated the ache it created in her chest. "Please talk to me? I don't...I don't know what I did."

“That’s the problem, Barnes, you never do. I didn’t even want to come to the damn rink in the first place. All I wanted was a quiet day in bed with a good book but there you were, all puppy dog eyes and charming fucking smile…”

“You think my smile’s charming?” He asked, and the hope in his tone sent her apoplectic.

“Just go away! Slide on back to your puck bunnies.”

“But I don’t wanna  go away, pretty girl. I wanna spend the day with you. I don’t know what I did to make you feel bad but I promise I’ll make it better. Just let me…”

“I said no, Bucky,” Luna interrupted him, her voice cracking. “Leave me alone.”

“Little moon,” Bucky whined, and Luna could hear him shuffling on the floor followed by a soft thud of what she assumed was his hand against the wooden door. 

“Don’t call me that, Bucky. Don’t call me ‘little moon’ or ‘pretty girl’—“ 

“Only calling you what you are, Luna.” 

Luna sniffled, hugging the stupid bear Bucky won for her at the fair to her chest. 

“You laughed at me, Buck,” she said softly. “She intentionally knocked into me and you didn’t do anything. Just made shitty comments and laughed. You’ve never made me feel so small.”

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," his tone changed, the whine had disappeared and was replaced by something akin to sorrow. "I'd never do anything to hurt you."

"You just did," she whispered. "I need you to go." Luna felt like her heart was breaking and she did not like it.

She heard Bucky's head thunk on the door before he got up and then it went quiet.

Luna waited a few minutes until she was convinced it was safe to open the door. She found her shoes and skates propped up against it and the sight of the tiny little moons sent her heart cracking. She picked them up and tossed them aside in her room before shutting the door and changing into something comfortable and hiding away in her bed.

Hours later a soft knock sounded on her door and Luna managed to lift her head enough to hear the sad voice that drifted into her room.

“I know you’re mad at me pret- Luna, but please come to the game tonight? Please?” 

Her chest tightened at the plaintive sound of Bucky’s words and she pulled her comforter up over her head. It wasn’t fast enough to block out the dejected apology that he ended with, however, before his heavy footsteps took him away back down the hallway.

Luna flopped restlessly onto her back and threw her forearm over her eyes. There was no way she would be going to the game tonight.

She couldn’t. 

She…

With a huff, she peeled back her comforter and shifted to sit on the edge of her bed, her face drawn into a disgruntled frown.

Stepping into the rink again felt like a mistake the moment she clocked the girls from earlier in the stands, dolled up for the players and still in far less clothing than they should be for an ice rink. 

Luna heaved out a sigh, avoiding eye contact as she slipped into her usual row. Bucky always knew where to look for her, and part of her was dreading seeing him but she still cared about him, still knew he'd find her in the stands as he took his position on the ice and the last thing she wanted to do was throw him off his game. 

The rink was loud, only growing louder as the teams finally skated out and she spotted him straight away. His broad shoulders were made even broader by his uniform, smile laid back and cheeky for the crowd as he fist bumped his team mates and then his eyes were on her, and his stupid, handsome face lit up like she was the best thing he'd ever seen. 

Hi, he mouthed, his lips curving in a grateful smile before he shoved his mouth guard over his teeth and it was game on.

The action out on the ice was brutal, it was always the same when they played these opponents, and they'd been battling it out the whole game. Bucky was outstanding, finding the goal twice and setting up two other players to score as well. Once the final whistle had sounded the bunnies had swarmed down to the ice and Luna noticed that the brunette was now sporting a home jersey with BARNES printed on the back.

That bitch was now making her last nerve tick, she was going to swing for her, no word of a lie... Luna pulled herself up short, what was she thinking?

She scanned the ice for Bucky, he'd been there a minute ago, high fiving and fist bumping his team mates. Well she was damned if she was going to go looking for him, especially with them hanging around, eating up the attention they were getting from the players. She'd just sit here until he came to get her.

The rest of the team had formed a semi-circle in the middle of the rink, throwing their arms around each other and sliding about in celebration. Even as they tore off their helmets there was still no sign of Bucky’s fluffy dark hair.

Luna sat back in her seat, her arms folded huffily across her chest but a hush fell over the crowd and drew her attention. Whistles and hollers began near the players’ entrance that grew into a thunderous riot as Bucky made his appearance back on the ice in nothing but his skates with his helmet clutched protectively over his junk.

Lips formed in a tight line as she tried not to laugh and with a disbelieving shake of her head, Luna’s eyes followed Bucky across the ice as he showed off, spinning and laughing before he stopped dead centre. 

“Really, Bucky?” Luna whispered to no one in particular as Bucky adjusted his helmet over his crotch and inevitably found her again in the crowd. 

Bucky grinned, bright eyed and mischievous, and then he spun on the spot to reveal her name scrawled across his broad shoulders, thick lines of marker pen spelling out ‘Jackson’ between two love hearts.

Luna slid as far down in her seat as she could when a few eyes in the surrounding seats glanced between her flushing face and Bucky's grin on the rink. 

"I'm sorry Luna Jackson! Please forgive me!" The naked brunette hollered across the ice at her while his teammates and the fans sitting around the ice burst in laughter and a few of the girls glared her way.

"You're crazy, Barnes," she muttered under her breath and shook her head at his antics. Her eyes never leaving his form as he skated closer, the butterflies in her chest increasing as Luna saw the sparkle in his eyes. The pleading look in his gaze broke her resolve. 

She wouldn't deny him. Couldn't even if she wanted to.

That same lopsided smile spread over his features as he got closer. The normal cockiness vanished for a moment as he looked at her. “C’mon pretty girl, please forgive me.” 

Luna couldn’t help her own smile at hearing the soft whine in his voice. She knew that being mad at him was only going to last for a few hours anyway. Bucky had a way of turning into the Kool-aid man and bursting through every wall she put up around herself…and her heart. 

Her dorm room? Was still comfy and cozy with her lights and posters but it never felt right without Bucky Barnes curled up at the foot of her bed reading his comics or rambling on about practice. He was her constant. Her person. 

“You hurt me Barnes.” She countered standing up and taking the short few steps to the edge of the rink where he waited. 

“I know.” He said with soft furrowed brows. “I’m real sorry Luna.” 

She nodded and glanced around the stadium at everyone staring at them. “I forgive you.” She said looking back at him. “Anyone who is crazy enough to come out bare ass on ice deserves that.” Luna grinned.

With a triumphant whoop, Bucky threw his arms in the air and spun in a circle, completely forgetting about the helmet protecting his modesty. It skittered across the ice and a collective gasp sounded from the crowd as Bucky slid to a stop, bare-ass naked, with his arms in the air and a broad grin on his face.

It was almost comedic, the way his eyes darted from Luna down to his groin and then back again in quick succession. At least he had the good grace to blush as she rushed to close the distance between them, sliding out onto the ice in her sneakers. She tore off her top layer of clothing and collided with Bucky’s solid frame, wrapping the sleeves around his waist as his arms wrapped around her.

“You wore my jersey,” he stated affectionately.

“Yeah, well one of us had to,” she snarked, but her shy smile took the sting out of her words.

"You really forgive me?" He asked quietly, not caring that he was naked and flashing everyone.

"Yes, you doofus. Now go cover up please?" Luna gritted.

She was flustered. The feel of his skin beneath her palms was sending goosebumps all over her body and her skin was heating up in the middle of the cold rink. She didn't dare move her hands any lower than his waist. Although the jersey she’d swung around his waist hung precariously low covering his groin, the trail of dark hair from his navel and down was hard to miss when her eyes didn't know where to look.

Bucky was grinning madly at her but, before he could say anything else, the angry shout of one Coach Fury sounded across the rink.

"Barnes! You better get your ass off the damn ice right this second!"

“You should, um—“ Luna said softly, giggling as Bucky shivered and fumbled a little on his skates.

“You know, I didn’t really think about how cold this place would be with no clothes on.” 

“No shit, Buck. Go, before you face the wrath of Fury.” 

Bucky nodded, smiling at her so hard his eyes crinkled at the edges and his nose scrunched. Luna turned to leave too, her heart flipping when Bucky suddenly reached out, his fingers wrapping around her wrist.

“Meet me at our spot, pretty girl?”

Luna smiled, that familiar warmth she only got when Bucky called her that spread through her. "After you get some clothes on." She laughed as he let go of her. 

"Fine." He huffed but followed it with a smirk. 

She watched for a moment as he skated away from her before she turned and headed out of the stadium. It was a short walk to the center of campus where a tall oak tree stood. Their tree. Luna settled against the rough bark as she sat in the grass and waited for him. Droves of students and staff alike passed by, all whooping and hollering to celebrate their team's win.

It was the giggles and snickers that first alerted Luna to someone’s approach. Calls of ”Bucky” and offers of phone numbers followed in his wake as he jogged across the green towards her. She scrambled to her feet and stood awkwardly, nerves coursing through her as he drew ever closer. He didn’t slow down, instead barreling into her and sweeping her off her feet with arms wrapped tightly around her.

He nuzzled into the tumble of hair behind her ear muttering apology after apology as he spun them in a circle, completely oblivious to the brunette and her gaggle of hangers-on that loitered at the edge of the grass.

“Put me down you big oaf!” Luna laughed even though she found herself clinging to him tighter, savouring the way Bucky’s body felt simultaneously soft and firm and warm against hers, and the soft brush of his lips over her neck as he whispered his apologies against her skin. 

Eventually, he set her down on the grass, tucking a hair behind her ear as he stared down at her. 

“I’m sorry,” he murmured once more and Luna thwacked him across the arm for it. 

“I already said I forgive you, Barnes. Just don’t do it again.” 

“Cross my heart, little moon,” Bucky smiled, his voice tender as his hand lingered at her jaw, cupping her chin gently. “Luna…”

Her breath hitched as their eyes connected, the blue of his eyes almost navy in the dimly lit campus. He shifted his weight closer to her, the scent of him enveloping her.

He was still caressing her jaw, his thumb slowing down when it reached her bottom lip, tracing it softly. 

"Buck I–" 

"Can I, little moon?" He interrupted. His gaze focused on her lips as he licked his own in anticipation.

Her heart was beating wildly behind her ribcage. This is the moment their friendship had been building toward, the longing for more was all powerful. And looking at him now, Luna knew she couldn't resist the pull any longer. No matter how much she was terrified of ruining what they already had.

Not giving herself anymore time to doubt her decision, she nodded once.

"Yes."

Bucky's lazy smile returned as his eyes met hers briefly before closing the distance between them. Soft lips pressed against her own and she felt his hand slide into her hair, tangling his fingers at the root. Luna let out a soft whimper against his mouth and it only took a moment before her lips parted and his tongue slid against hers.

His answering moan sent a thrill of desire down her spine and she wound her arms around his neck. Tilting his head the other way, he deepened the angle of their kiss even more. His hand splayed out across the middle of her back and he shuffled them backwards a few steps, his lips never leaving hers, until they came to a halt against the wide trunk of the oak.

“You ok, pretty girl?” He murmured, punctuating his words with the featherlight kisses she’d secretly daydreamed about.

“I’m having a hard time believing this is real,” Luna chuckled, “but I’m more than okay.”

Bucky laughed, the sound rich and melodic as he pressed in impossibly close. With one hand braced against the trunk of the tree, he dipped his head and pressed a series of soft, ticklish kisses across Luna’s cheeks. 

“It’s very real— God, Luna, you gotta know how much you mean to me. I’ve been stupid about you since the moment we met. You’re gorgeous—“ He kissed her forehead. “Intelligent—“ Another kiss to her cheek. “Wickedly funny.” Bucky kissed her other cheek, thumb brushing over her bottom lip and tugging it down gently. “And yeah, you’re a bit of a grump but opposites attract, right?” 

“You’re an idiot,” Luna giggled, reaching up and threading her fingers through Bucky’s hair. 

“Well, yeah,” Bucky scoffed. “But I wanna be your idiot if you’ll let me?”

It was hard to believe, not in a million years would she have  thought she'd have a shot with Bucky Barnes. He was handsome, smart, and annoyingly funny and– try all she might, Luna didn't have a chance of resisting him. 

Especially not with how stupidly gorgeous he looked right now, pledging himself to her if she agreed.

Her heart had the decision made before he even asked.

"Yeah," she looked up into his pretty blues, her voice breathless from the onslaught of emotions swirling in them. 

Luna smiled softly, closing the distance between their lips again before whispering, "I guess I'll be your grump then."