#then she comes into the kitchen first thing in the morning and turns on the light

[dracure]

private chef barty who’s been employed by mr and mrs rosier. a few months go by, barty loves his job and the responsibility, and the fact that it’s not what his father would have wanted for him. barty is so happy in his own little world that he’s forgotten mr and mrs rosier’s twin son and daughter are coming back from college for the summer.

barty meets pandora first, and pandora immediately sparks his interest. for someone whose parents are ordinary, pandora is anything but. with her big doll eyes and skunk-styled black and white hair, barty can’t look away from her. she’s fun and welcoming and after a few minutes of getting to know each other, pandora’s excusing herself with the reasoning of jet lag and then she’s whirling away out of the room and barty’s staring after her long after she’s gone. barty’s wondering what his chances are at being with her, whether she’ll let him touch her and make her feel good, but he’s getting a semi thinking about it and still has to finish preparations for the family’s dinner so he gets back to his work.

it isn’t until the evening that he meets the son. mr and mrs rosier are annoyed at evan's lack of appearance so soon before dinner but just as barty is finishing with the food in the kitchen, the boy whirls in through the glass doors from the back of the house. he hesitates as his eyes land on barty, probably taking a moment to realise who barty is, but barty doesn’t think evan has the right to be looking at him so questioningly when evan has been essentially missing—although barty just assumed that was an exaggeration from the parents—for several hours, and here he appears with streaks of mud on his shorts and t-shirt, dirt under his fingernails, a twig sticking out of his ridiculously blonde hair and a cut on his knee that has formed a trail of blood running down his shin. “jesus,” barty says, unable to form a proper sentence.

“hi,” evan answers. “sorry about the entry. i was just trying to avoid my parents. you won’t tell them will you?”

“that you’ve been…foraging?”

“foraging?” evan scoffs.

“what were you doing then?”

“oh, nothing.”

“how do i know what not to tell your parents if i don’t know what you were doing?”

evan just stares at him and barty shifts on his feet before deciding they should probably start afresh.

“i’m barty,” he says, holding out his hand.

evan’s gaze drops to barty’s hand but he doesn’t take it in his own. “i don’t shake hands.”

barty drops his hand instantly. “okay. i’m not really a hugger—“

“god no.”

“what about a high five? no, a fist bump—“

“i’m going to go get cleaned up,” evan interrupts quickly. then he’s storming past barty and out of the kitchen.

barty turns and stares after him, half fascinated, half disturbed. if pandora was alluring, evan is a whole other thing entirely. barty has to fight the urge to go after him and find out what he was doing in the woods behind the house that would make foraging such an absurd idea in comparison.

that night as barty leaves the rosiers’ home, he’s half way down the drive when he feels chills. for a moment he passes it off as the breeze but then he glances over his shoulder and does a frantic double take when he sees to figures stood in one of the upstairs windows of the house. he recognises the figures as evan and pandora but the distance is too great between them and barty for him to see their expression, yet he has a feeling they must be watching him.

foraging my ass, barty thinks, suspecting that both the twins have something far more sinister going on. he turns away from the house sharply and speed walks down the rest if the drive. he makes it to his bike and doesn’t look back as he secures his bag and puts his helmet on.

by tomorrow morning he’ll be back here for work, but he will have surpassed the initial discomfort that evan and pandora have given him and he’ll be ready to get to know them both better & find out what they have going on with then that makes them so unironically mysterious.

[yelenasdiary]

Olivia Benson x Daughter!reader request!! Olivia worked a really case and was voluntold to take a few days off so she tells reader to skip school and they have a staycation c:

A Day In

Pairing: Olivia Benson x Daughter! Reader

Summary: When your mother is sent home with the promise she would take a few days off work, all she wants to do is spend it with her family. 

Comfort 

Warnings: Brief Mention of a Hard Case | 0.9K

AC: Thank you for sending this! This is my first Olivia fic, so for all new readers, welcome! Please note that my work isn’t perfect, and you might come across mistakes, I do apologise for any! I hope you all enjoy this! x 

Ah, Wednesday, spaghetti night at the Bensons! It wasn’t un-usual for you to make dinner for your younger brother, Noah, and your mother. You rather enjoyed cooking and now that Noah was a little older, he liked to join in and help wherever he could. After dinner, you would help Noah with any homework he had before he would spend a little time doing his own thing before going to bed. Usually after he would go to bed is when you would sit down and start your homework, but tonight was different. 

You had just sat down at your desk in your room when you heard the front door close. A heavy sigh could be heard down the hall, it was your mother, and she was home a lot earlier than usual. You closed your laptop and wandered into the living room to greet her. You could tell today had been rough on her, she was exhausted but somehow, she always managed to smile through it. 

She smiled softly when she saw you, “hey sweetheart” she greeted. You returned the soft smile, “hey, I made spaghetti, do you want me to heat up your plate?” You asked, opening the refrigerator and wrapping the covered meal. “How did you know that’s exactly what I was craving?” Olivia chuckled as she threw her coat over the back of the sofa. 

“How was your day?” She asked, taking a seat on the stool at the kitchen counter, running her hands through her hair. “Meh” you shrugged, “the normal” you added as you turned to face your mom. One look into her eyes and you could tell she was trying her best to keep you from seeing she was miles away. “Rough day?” You asked, bringing her back to you. Softly, she nodded, “but I don’t want you to worry about me” she replied. 

“Mom, come on, it’s my job to worry about you” you reminded her. Being the oldest child of Olivia, you had a little more experience with her job and just how hard it can be, not only on Olivia but also on you and Noah. “Well, there’s no need to worry” she assured you, “I’ve promised the team to take a few days off so what about you and I have a girls day tomorrow?” She offered. 

“But I have school?” You questioned, turned to the microwave as it beeped. 

“It’ll be one day, usually I don’t like to pull you out of school for the day but I’ve noticed you’ve been a little on edge recently so maybe a day in will do us both some good” 

You placed the plate of spaghetti in front of your mother, looking up at her and nodding softly, “what about Noah?” You asked. 

“We’ll let him pick the movie tomorrow night” she smiled before swirling her fork into the spaghetti. 

----

In a worry, your eyes widened as you grabbed your phone from your bedside table, your morning alarm didn’t wake you, it was now 10:21am. You shot out of bed, totally forgetting the plans you had made last night with your mom as you rushed down the hall to the kitchen only to see your mother drinking a coffee she had brought from a nearby coffee shop. 

“Good morning” she smiled, “I thought I’d let you sleep in” she added. Once your mind recollected the conversations from last night, your worries of being late for school faded away. You made yourself some cereal and took a seat on the sofa, “you should’ve let a note” you chuckled. 

“My bad, next time I will” Olivia replied, “Noah is at school, and I stopped by the store on my way home and grabbed some of your favourite snacks, I thought we could order some take out for dinner and the first activity of our day in is on you!” She added, joining you on the sofa as you ate your breakfast. 

“How do you feel about letting me dye my hair?” You asked, looking over to her. 

“Oh yeah? What color were you thinking?” 

“Maybe something a little lighter? I just feel like a little change is all” you replied in hopes it would help convince her a little more. 

“Let’s do it! After breakfast, we’ll go to the store and get some dye” your mother smiled. 

The day with your mom was something you didn’t know you needed just as much as she needed. Neither of you spoke about school or work, it was just the two of you bonding over boxed hair dye, trashy movies and snacks. Before you knew it, it was time to pick Noah up from school. You and mother went together, taking him by surprise to see his mother by your side. 

One the way home, the three of you took a walk through the park enjoying a take-away hot chocolate sharing plenty of laughs and stories. Noah loved talking about his day at school and you loved seeing him so happy but most of all, you loved being able to have times like this. Memories that would last forever. 

Noah ended up picking Chinese take-out for dinner, no surprise there! The rest of the afternoon was spent playing some board games before ending the night with the three of you watching family fun movies that Noah had picked. He fell asleep while cuddled into your mother. 

“Today has been the best” you spoke softly, careful not to wake Noah. “I really glad you were sent home with time off” you added. Olivia looked over to you and smiled softly, “me too sweetheart” she whispered back.

Taglist: @inluvwithfandom | @snapeysister | 

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[asunsetgrace16]

Died of a Broken Heart ⎥ NM29

Pairing: Nathan MacKinnon x fem!reader

Summary: It turns out that it is possible to die of a broken heart

Warnings: sad sad sad, swearing,

Notes: I take it back. Kind of. I don't think my groove is entirely back, or maybe it was just the fics I was working on. I wrote this in four hours around midnight and this is my first attempt at writing something sad. I will say that it was hard to not cry writing this, so hopefully 🤞 you guys feel some emotions too. There isn't much dialogue in the beginning.

masterlist ⎥ navigation

Word Count: 3.7k

Nate is numb. He’s been numb since about 10:30 last night, when the police knocked on his door. He had been home for 20 minutes max, having just gotten back from Cale’s house, supper with him and Gabe and Mikko. Tracey was up in Calgary for a few days. Y/N had dinner plans with her work friends, it was Shannon’s birthday. The world tilted on its axis as he was told that Y/N was killed. The world tilts on its axis as they somberly tell him what happened forty-five minutes ago. Hit-and-run…they are looking for the driver…happened in the restaurant parking lot…no, she was the only one. Nate’s pretty sure he stops breathing, because he feels a firm hand on his elbow guiding him back into his house, coaxing him to take deep breaths. Blood rushes in his ears, and he thinks, Australia, their honeymoon. He lifts a hand to wipe his face. When did he start crying? 

The police stay for a while, watching him carefully until they are sure he won’t spiral into a panic attack, ironic all things considered. When he is semi-into it, they explain everything again. 

Ok,” Nate says, “would you...you mind, um, coming back in the morning? I need to hear this once some of the shock wears off.” His voice is quiet and strained. He doesn’t fight the tears silently rolling down his cheeks. They agree to his request, leaving with a handshake and squeeze on the shoulder, hints of agony shining through their masks of professionalism.

Nate stays sitting at his kitchen table, head in his hands. Sobs shake his body, uncontrollable and awful. He cries so hard he thinks he might cry himself sick. Eventually, he leans back, face twisted with emotion and damp with tears. Slowly, he heads to bed. Each movement is mechanical. He tosses and turns, his sleep is plagued by once-sweet memories of Y/N turned into cruel reminders that she was ripped from him.

Eventually he gives up and moves to the guest bedroom. He cries more, more than he ever has. He wants Y/N, he wants to kiss her, and hold her, and take her to games and-.

-

Next thing Nate knows, he is waking up to the sun streaming through the curtains. He is confused at first, the stiffness of the bed isn't what his bed feels like. As he opens his eyes, last night comes rushing back. He doesn’t want to believe it. They had just started their life together, with promises of love and kids and 60 more years. The tears start again, slower than the previous night but no less gut-wrenching. Reluctantly he heads to the bathroom. He looks worse than imagined. Red and puffy eyes that unfortunately make the blue pop, pale skin and chapped lips. Nate’s hands shake as he splashes water on his face. 

Taking a deep breath, he tries to get some semblance of a list to make sense in his mind. He shoots off a vague text to Bedsy, letting him know that he might be late for practice, not knowing how long the police will take. 

It turns out that it only takes half an hour. The same officers from the night before knock on Nate’s door at 7:30, introducing themselves and Parker and Walker. They recount the night before in more detail. Y/N was killed at 9:48 pm, during a hit-and-run in the restaurant parking lot. She was the only one, none of her friends were even injured. They tell Nate that it was an instant death, painless…that she didn’t suffer. Nate is frozen in his chair, back ramrod straight and hands clasped tightly. Walker leaves a copy of his first report, and his phone number in case Nate has questions. He walks them out, shaking their hands and thanking them for coming over again.

Returning to the kitchen, he pulls out a notepad and pen. Nate lists off the things he needs to do. Call his parents. Call Y/N’s parents. Call the funeral home. Talk to C-Mac and Bedsy and the team. Get through practice. 

He decides to wait on calling his parents, saving that for the afternoon. Same with the funeral home. He is in a daze the whole time he prepares for practice. He makes his usual protein drink, but he thinks that he used orange juice instead of water. Nate’s not sure. He also isn’t entirely sure how he made it to the arena without running a red light.

His whole walk to Bedsy’s office is stressful. He dreads the thought of having to have this conversation more than once. He knocks on the open door, seeing C-Mac there as well. 

“Hey Nate, I got your text.” Bedsy starts, looking at Nate, concerned, “You ok? Respectfully, you look like shit.”

“Feel like it too. Can uh, both of you come down to the dressing room? Like now? I have some, some uh,” Nate stops, swallowing, “some news, and I want to say it as few times as possible.”

“Sure, all right.” Bednar and C-Mac glance at each other, worried. They’ve seen Nate be not ok before, but this is new. Nate is silent during their trek to the dressing room, still holding his orange juice and green protein powder monstrosity. Bedsy opens the door, gesturing for Nate to go through first.

“Hey Nate, you forgot your jacket at mine last night. You didn’t pick up when I called.” Cale tells him. Nate is standing where Bedsy usually stands.

“Uh…ok thanks, Cale. I was um…I was a little preoccupied last night. Sorry” He responds. His voice is shaking, his hands are shaking, Bedsy and C-Mac are getting increasingly concerned and Nate feels on the verge of a panic attack.

Cale grins suggestively at him, “Ohhh, I see, I see how it is. Getting a little lovin’ on with Y/N I s-”

Nate interrupts abruptly, cutting straight to the chase, “Y/N is dead. She’s dead.”

The whole locker room freezes. Cale’s jaw drops. Someone drops their water bottle.

“Holy shit-” 

“Oh my god.”

“Nate, you need to sit down.”

The voices swirl and blend around him. Nate’s vision loses focus, and cotton balls are stuffed in his ears. Hands find his elbows, easing him into a stall. Someone kneels in front of him. Nate stares, glassy eyes unseeing. 

Slowly, he comes back. His throat is raw and scratchy and he needs water. Mikko tosses over a water bottle and a clean, damp towel.

“Start from the beginning, Nate.” Jo urges softly.

So Nate recounts the story. The entire team is close around him as he repeats what he was told this morning and last night. Their faces reflect the horror and agony Nate feels. Tears fall when he says that her death was instant. He hears sniffles from somewhere, and everyone else is crying now, too.

“It’s good,” he says, “knowing that she wasn’t in pain, but it is awful knowing that there was no chance of saving her.” His voice breaks, he covers his mouth with a hand sobs as quietly as he can. Cale hugs one side and Jo’s on the other. Once the tears slow, he takes the towel that Mikko’s holding. 

“Practice is canceled, today and tomorrow.” Bednar says, “I don’t want Nate to be left alone. Cale, Jo, Mikko, go with him and grab Gabe too. I will talk to the league, see about rescheduling the game tomorrow. I will have to tell them, Nate.”

“No, you guys play. Say I’m out day to day or something. A practice muscle strain.” Nate objects.

“Nate, your wife died less than twelve hours ago. We will not be playing hockey. I’ll phone in and say we forfeit. I will tell Bettman that the news doesn’t go out until you, me, and C-Mac give an interview.”

“Ok.”

-

The afternoon follows a similar pattern. Cale drives Nate home, Jo phones Gabe. Mel brings soup when she comes with Gabe. She folds Nate into a hug as he cries. He makes the excruciating phone call to his parents and hers. Cale smartly suggests doing a triple call so there’s only one conversation. 

“Where should I bury her?” Nate asks, “Here, or should she be back home?”

“Nate, her home has been with you for years. Keep her close to you.” Y/N’s dad tells him. Nate nods forgetting that they can’t actually see him. Gabe takes notes while they discuss the funeral over the phone. Granite headstone, brown casket, service at St. Andrew’s and burial in the graveyard nearby. The reception will be held in the hall near Nate’s house. He doesn’t want people in his house. The date is set for March 5th. 

The media has a field day upon the announcement that the Avs have forfeited their game against the Stars. Sid calls him within a minute.

Nate forces the team to play their next game three days later on February 28th. It’s at home against Buffalo. They lose in an uncharacteristic fashion, so much so that the Buffalo players notice something is really wrong.

Gabe takes care of most of the funeral arrangements, and Nate is forever grateful. He meets with the funeral director, sending with him the clothes he picked out for Y/N to be buried in. Before he leaves, he hands Nate a box.

Opening it, Nate finds her purse. Her phone. A box with her wedding rings. Jo finds him with shaking shoulders and his head in his hands.

On March 2nd, a week after Y/N died, Nate asks for a press conference. The Avs lost both games they played in that week, with Nate a very conspicuous absence. Bedsy asks over and over if Nate is sure that he wants to go through with it.

“I’m sure. It won’t be a secret for much longer.” Nate says. Bedsy just nods. The trio of Nate, Bedsy, and C-Mac file into the media room.

Nate starts, wanting to get this over with as fast as possible. “I’m aware you all have been wondering where I have been this past week.”

The reporters nod. Nate takes a deep breath.

“On February 23rd, I received news. News that my wife was killed in a hit and run accident. It happened in a restaurant parking lot as she was heading to her car.” He stops as hands fly up. C-Mac picks someone.

“Nate, I am very sorry for your loss. Is this why the game was forfeited last week?”

“Yes, it was. It was a shock to all of us, and none of us were in any condition or mental state to play.”

“How is this going to affect the rest of your season?”

Nate scoffs quietly. His wife is dead and they are concerned with hockey. “I have decided to take an extended leave of absence from the team. I won’t be playing in the game tomorrow night, nor will I be for the rest of the season. My life was completely torn apart a week ago, I have more important things right now. I do ask that I be left alone right now, no reporters at my house or on the street. I want privacy.”

With that, Nate walks out. Cale is waiting to drive him home and he takes one look at Nate and pulls him in for a hug. He is tired of crying and tired of people saying they are sorry and tired of missing Y/N and tired of being tired.

-

No. 1 

February 24, 9:09 pm

Nate: Hey guys, I have some news.  Connor McD: Period at the end of the sentence. This won’t be good Nate: Y/N was killed last night, hit and run Sid: Oh my god, Nate Sid: Are you ok? Were you hurt? Connor McD: Oh shit Nate: I’m fine, but I guess that’s relative right now Nate: I wasn’t there. She went to dinner with friends. It happened in the parking lot Auston: I am so sorry, man. I realize that that is probably not what you want or need to hear, but I don’t know what else to say Nate: No no, it's ok. I appreciate it. I think I’m still in shock, so not much room for anything other that devastated right now Ryan: Is there anything we can do? Nate: No, not right now. Funeral’s on the 5th, if anyone wants to come. My place is full, but any of the guys would let you stay with them Sid: Of course we want to come, it's just a matter of whether we can Ryan: Even if any of us play, once the news is out most teams will probably want a player there for support Connor McD: I checked and it's in the middle of a break for us. Ryan and I will be there, Leo too probably Jack: We’re out west on a road trip, but I could try and pull some strings to come Owen: We are at the end of a homestand that day, but I’ll probably get to come. Can’t do much worse than we already are Owen: That was bad, sorry. Lame-ass excuse for a joke Nate: Don’t be. It almost made me not frown. Thank you Juraj: I’ll be there. We are in LA the day before. Newy will want to come Baby Connor: I’ve got a break during our trip down there. I’ll be there. Dammit why am I baby Connor again? Nate: Cause you are a baby. I really appreciate it, guys. Thank you Baby Connor: Dude obviously. You can’t just drop the worst news of your life and not expect your number 1 buddies to rally the troops and support you Nate: The kid’s gonna kill us all. I didn’t need to cry again but everything makes me cry now, I guess Baby Connor: Oh my god, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to Nate: I know, just messing with you

-

The funeral goes perfectly. Nate’s and Y/N’s parents arrived a few days ago and have been staying with him. It’s a comfort to have them there, though most days he feels like he’s wading through quicksand. There is usually a teammate there, or two. Sid flies in the day before, same with all the guys from the groupchat. Naz comes from Calgary. EJ and Tyson come, and other Tyson and Bo make the trip out with Owen. Alex comes with Juraj. Nate spends the day crying silent tears and hugging more people than he cares to remember. Mikko, Cale, EJ, Jo, Tyson, and Sid are pallbearers at the funeral. He gives a speech, short as he can get away with. His voice breaks and wavers the whole time. Y/N’s parents and Nate’s say a few words, and the priest reads the eulogy. 

The weather is mild for the burial, Nate almost wishes it was miserable. The day passes in a daze, making awkward small talk with people he barely knows, Thankfully they leave within an hour. The rest of the people there manage to lift the mood a little and Nate moves from crying to barely frowning. Connor Bedard sticks close to him most of the time. Nate is grateful for him, he’s a good kid with a good heart. He hugs Connor extra hard before he leaves to catch his flight to Utah.

-

“Nate!” Cale calls, knocking on his door again. He’s normally never late, but things still aren’t normal. Nate was the one who suggested that they go skate, not practice, but just to skate. A change of scenery. Cale finally gives up and digs his key out of his pocket. He’s a little confused when he sees that none of the lights are on. Nate hasn’t been himself, but this is weird. Nate’s dog Aspen appears from the hallway. 

“Hey buddy, where’s Nate?” Cale asks him. Aspen circles Cale once before heading back towards Nate’s bedroom. Cale follows him. Nate’s door is shut tight and Aspen has his nose shoved in the corner. Opening the door, Aspen bounds to Nate’s side, where he looks to be still asleep. He whines, getting his nose under Nate’s hand.

“Oh my god.” Cale whispers. Nate is a shade of gray no living person should ever be. “Oh my god.” He moves to the bed. Nate is cool when Cale touches his wrist. He fumbles for his phone, dialing 911 when he doesn’t find a pulse.

-

“Sid…” Kathy calls up the stairs, “Get down here, you have to see this.”

Sidney hustles down at the tone of her voice. Kathy is standing behind the couch, remote gripped in one hand. He stands behind her, hand on her waist. Her hand drops the remote, coming up to cover her mouth as they hear the news.

"... and now we have saddening news coming from Denver, Colorado. It is with our deepest condolences that we announce the death of NHL star, Nathan MacKinnon. He was found early this morning after failing to meet teammate Cale Makar, for morning skate. Makar called 911 when he found MacKinnon in bed after he didn’t answer the door. According to law enforcement agencies, MacKinnon died peacefully at home overnight, but suddenly, with no chance of resuscitation once they arrived on the scene. His death comes just weeks after the death of his wife, Y/N. What this means for the Avalanche and the rest of the season, we don’t know. More, after the break.” 

Sid thumbs open his phone to the news app. Every headline is the same variation of announcing Nate’s death. Tears fall on the screen.

Colorado Avalanche teammates of Nathan MacKinnon, coach Jared Bednar, yet to speak on the star’s sudden death.

Breaking News: NHL Superstar Nathan MacKinnon, dead at 29. What does this mean for the Avalanche?

“The NHL offers its deepest sympathies and condolences to Nathan and Y/N MacKinnon’s families during this time of tragedy.”

“Nathan MacKinnon, announced dead this morning weeks after his wife, Y/N MacKinnon, was tragically killed…”

Details about Nathan MacKinnon’s death are expected soon.

-

THE COLORADO SUN

Details emerge on the death of Colorado Avalanche star Nathan MacKinnon

J.P Burrow, 12:00 pm March 30th, 2025

Four weeks ago, the hockey world was shocked when Nathan MacKinnon, 29, appeared in a press conference after being absent from two home games, both lost in depressing fashion. What he revealed that day was the furthest thing from what anybody expected.

We were told that a week prior, MacKinnon’s wife Y/N, 27, was killed in a hit-and-run car accident. Her funeral was three days later. Understandably, MacKinnon withdrew from the public. His teammates were a constant source of support, but that only goes so far when grieving your spouse. He decided to take the rest of the season off.

MacKinnon and Y/N were married for three years, and together for nearly ten. They were fan-favorites throughout the league, despite them being notoriously private. MacKinnon never smiled as much as he did when he was talking about his wife. 

Now, thirteen days ago, the world was rocked again when it was announced that MacKinnon was dead. Details surrounding his death have been revealed after an autopsy. The report revealed that his heart sustained damage after Y/N’s death, caused by a sudden, constant surge of adrenaline in the days following. This causes a disruption of blood flow in the heart, similar to a heart attack. It is fittingly called Broken heart syndrome, where the death of a loved one can trigger the condition. Death is rare, but it happens.

We reached out to friends of MacKinnon’s across the league, his own teammates commented in a press conference earlier today.

Connor Bedard: Nate was a close friend of mine, he helped me a lot when I first got into the league. I looked up to him a lot. Once I got to know him outside of hockey, I learned just how amazing of a person he is– was. I was shocked to learn that he died. We had just landed in Denver for our game against them when Cale [Makar] called me.

Sidney Crosby: It was a lot for all of us, the whole month. I’ve been close with Nate for ten years, he's my best friend, so to say that I’m going to miss him is an understatement. I saw how much Y/N dying crushed him, they were made for each other. Hockey was his first love, but Y/N was his true love.

Gabe Landeskog: The season changed for all of us after Y/N died and Nate took time off. There will be no replacing Nate, his skill, his passion…it left a hole. I’m not going to sugarcoat things. This will be really difficult to come back from. It won’t be this season, maybe not even next season, but we are going to fight, for Nate. He would want us to.

-

“He really died of a broken heart.” Cale says before turning to bury his face in his wife’s hair, crying silently. He hasn’t been the same since finding Nate, taking his own leave from the team.

For the second time in a month, the Avalanche and company are reunited, standing in black around a grave beside the one they stood around three and a half weeks earlier, but another person short. Y/N’s headstone will be put in the same day as Nate’s. EJ is holding Aspen’s leash, who took him in when Nate died. He’s retiring, he told everybody when they gathered the second time. The past month taught him that life is short. He is moving back to Denver to take over Nate’s house. They had found a notebook in his bedside table that had the beginnings of a will written in it. He wanted EJ to have Aspen, and the house if he wanted it. Pictures, his suits, and Y/N's wedding dress were to go to his parents, donate his and Y/N's clothes, box away his Avalanche gear and ship it to Sid in Nova Scotia. Their wedding rings go to Sid too.

“But now they are together again.” Jo says, smiling through his tears. The thought brings some comfort to them, knowing that Nate has been reunited with the love of his life and won’t spend the rest of his life missing Y/N.

[llamagoddessofficial]

For the baker boys, what if reader tried out a new recipe one day and just absolutely butchered it. Destroyed. Came out awful. And this isn’t the first time. She’s tried to get this right so many times and simply can’t seem to get the hang of it. I can see sans “teaching” her how but really just flexing, red teasing, and skull eating it and straight up lying to her face that it’s good.

Funnily enough, it's not unusual for Mc to try a recipe and completely fuck it up. She just isn't blessed with the gift of baking.

Sans: He's generally more accepting of the fact that baking just isn't her strong suit. She appreciates his honest approach, he doesn't try to turn her into something she's not. He can always tell how she's feeling about her attempt at cooking ending so terribly, and he responds appropriately- when she's not bothered about it and clearly finds it all funny, he cracks jokes and pretends to die from eating it, making her laugh until she's crying. But when she's genuinely upset that yet another cake came out underbaked, cracked or burnt, flat or misshapen, generally inedible... he's calm. He doesn't quip or push.

... Usually, he asks her to make him a complicated coffee. Pulling it off flawlessly makes her feel a lot better.

Red: He's one of those bakers who can look at her failed creation and instantly know what she did wrong. She has no idea how he tells so quickly. A single glance, and he's got her all figured out. "you opened the oven while it was cooking, didn't you?" "... Y-yeah. Just once..." "doll. that takes all the air outta it." Unlike Sans' more 'live and let live' approach, Red does his best to teach her some tips and tricks if he can tell she's open to it at that moment. Don't open the oven while it's baking, wait until your ingredients are room temperature, put a lil' drop of lemon in your eggs to make the meringue whip faster... Red's got the magic touch of someone who knows exactly what he's doing. When they cook together, she's much less flustered and confused, and everything winds up great. Plus, baking is a perfect time to flirt.... though if he says 'nice buns' again he might get a spatula to the jaw.

Skull: It's a real effort to get Skull to not eat what she bakes. When she makes something crap, she has to either hide it or literally run for it, because Skull will have some. She doesn't understand why he'll turn down nice store sandwiches to eat whatever hot garbage she pulled out of the oven.

... There's a few reasons. A big one is not wanting to waste food. But honestly, it's mostly because he really does like what she makes. Her cakes, though not exactly a visual treat, are full of her emotions and labour. He loves her so much, and her food is like an extension of her. It doesn't matter how bad it tastes because as soon as he chews it he feels warm knowing it's hers.

... He also wants to show her that no matter how bad she thinks it is, just because it's imperfect doesn't mean it's impalatable.

Someone will always like it.

[1-ker0sene-1]

Poly 141 x Reader

Home is where you are

"What ye think she made this time?"

Johnny mumbles, dropping his head back against the seat behind him. Blinking tiredly up at the ceiling of the truck, a daydream clear in his eyes. Simon next to him stares out the window, sweat seems to practically seal his balaclava to his face.

"We'd be lucky if anything. It's three in the fucking morning.."

Kyle says from the passenger seat. Pursing his lips a bit.

"She should be sleeping.."

Price chuckles from the driver's seat, hand on the steering wheel, paying close attention to the road.

"She knows we're on our way home. If she made something. We'll be thankful."

His other hand is resting on Kyle's knee, his thumb rubs slow circles against him.

Simons foot taps on the floor of the car silently, brows tight together. The man just wants to go home, shower, eat whatever heaven you cooked and sink into that california king mattress. With all of you, all five of you together.

"Steaks."

He mutters.

"Hm?"

Johnny questions with a hum, Simon clarifies.

"On days we come home.. it's either steak or shepherds pie. She made shepherds pie last time so it's gonna be steak."

They all salivate at the damn thought.

"It's tha little things with ye huh Simon?"

Johnny smiles warmly, leaning on his shoulder.

It was another thirty minutes driving before they finally pulled into the secluded driveway. Their safehouse. Their home. Where you are. Filing out of the truck, bags over their shoulders. Covered in grime and dried blood, they didn't even let themselves clean up at base before going home to you. Walking forward, Simon slings an arm around Kyle's shoulder. Tucking the sargeant into his side as they walk to the house. Both Johns walking behind them, Price giving the younger a good slap on the back.

"Home, boys. Let's enjoy it while we can."

Price comes forward to unlock the front door, pushing it open for the four of them. Mumbling out a reminder to take off their shoes inside. Leaning down with a grunt to pull off his boots. The others doing the same. They can already smell what you're cooking, Simon was right. The smell of steaks is pretty clear, garlic butter, some kind of steamed vegetables and spices.

The house is clean. Warm. Low lighting, some candles lit. Everything about it screams home. John opens his mouth to call out for you, but he can feel his spine practically melt hearing you hum in the kitchen.

Johnny is the first stumbling forward, hopping on one leg as he throws off his remaining shoe. Eager to get back to you. Grinning as he comes around the corner into the kitchen. He melts. Seeing you there, in your chair dishing up their plates of dinner.

".. Hey lass.."

He mumbles, feeling like all the air left his chest.

You turn your head when you hear him, the brightest smile spreads across your face. Tossing the fork down from your hand as you turn towards him.

"Hey soldier-"

You beam. You don't even get another word in before Johnny rushes towards you, you let out a puff of air as he crashes into you. Laughing against him as he squeezes you to his chest, his face buried in your hair.

"Fuckin' missed ye hen.."

He whispers. You return with one of your own.

"I know baby.. I missed you too.."

You lift your head, kissing the scar on his chin.

"This bloke botherin' you love?"

You already know that voice immediately, smiling as you turn to look at Kyle. Who is quick at your side with Johnny, his hand cups the back of your head. Pressing a long kiss to your cheek. Taking a deep inhale of your scent through his nose. You smile warmly, your hand finds his bicep, giving a soft squeeze.

"There you are Kyle.."

You murmur, turning your head to press your own kisses across the bridge of his nose.

"Always here."

He chirps, kissing on your skin. His eyes bore into you, drinking you up. Johnny huffs, mumbling something about stealing all your attention. Earning a small tug on his mowhawk from you.

"Alright you two- showers. The both of you. You need it-"

You chuckle, giving them both a hug. Giving Johnny one more kiss on the jaw. Letting Gaz get one more kiss on your face. Watching them head past you down the hall to the bathroom. Kissing on eachother, bumping into walls. You shake your head at them with a smile.

Eyes flicking back to the entrance. You find Simon staring at you, his shoulders slack and sinking. Eyes half lidded and tired. The rest of his face under the balaclava. Your eyes soften, holding out your hand to him.

"Oh Si.."

He takes the invitation. Coming over to you. He would tower over you in height. But instead he falls to one knee in front of your chair. Hands resting on the arm rests of your chair. Your hands immediately cradle his head. Leaning forward to press your head to his.

"You're home.. it's alright now .. no more Lieutenant.."

You whisper against him. Your fingertips lift the edge of the balaclava, pulling it over the nape of his neck. Over the back of his head, nails dragging soothingly up his scalp as you take the fabric away. Making him shiver in vulnerability. Putting his mask aside on the counter.

Seeing your Simons face eases the both of you, cupping his jaw and lifting his head.

"I know doll.. I know."

He mutters, you kiss his temple. Caressing his skin. Threading your fingers into his hair.

"Go shower with the boys sweetheart.. I'll be in there soon."

You coo at him. He chuckles deeply, kissing your head between your brows as he gets up. Bumping your foreheads together one more time before walking to the bathroom.

"You're not gonna say hello to me John?"

You joke, turning your head to watch said Captain. Who was holding his hat in hand, leaning against the wall watching you. He's been watching you the whole time.

"Just seein' you with our boys darlin'.."

Pushing away from the wall he walks over to you. His eyes full of exhaustion, longing, warmth. Tossing his hat on the counter behind you. He leans down, callous hands hold your cheeks. Bringing your lips to his.

He's not as sneaky as he thinks. You know of his little demand to the boys. He's the first to kiss you. Each time they come home.

You kiss him back feverishly, as much as you've been calm and steady for them. You missed your men like hell. Your hands find his shoulders, squeezing them tightly, beginning to work on the knots of tension in them. Emitting a deep groan from John into your mouth. You smile against his lips, feeling the scratch off his beard.

"Everyone's alright?"

You whisper against him. He nods, his hands finding your hips. Slightly lifting you from your chair and towards himself.

"No one's broken. .. Kyle's a little stressed. Y'know how he is.."

You nod, eyes still closed, continuing to brush your lips together.

"And you?"

"Just tired.. But I'm home. That's what matters."

John mumbles, kissing you deep again. Dipping his tongue past your lips, a soft sigh slipping out of you. Arms pulling him closer.

"Taking good care of our boys John.. You always do.. Making sure you all come home to me again... Our strong Captain.."

You can feel him sinking at your praise. The older mans knees want to buckle at your voice.

"Let's get you in the shower baby.. Hm? Get you washed and relaxed.."

You mumble against him.

You yelp as your lifted into the air by his arms, laughing openly as he carries you like a bride. Burying his nose to the crook of your neck. Carrying you down the hall, to the bathroom door. Where you can already hear the chatter of the men in the shower waiting for the two of you. John is grumbling against your skin.

"We need you darlin'. "

"Our boys and I need you bad.."

[nivisdreaming]

Kinktober Day 1: Size - Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader

WC: 1.1k

CW: Size play, predator/prey dynamics, established relationship, piv penetration, no protection, creampie, teasing, praise, sub!reader, dom!miguel, subspace implied, reader gets fucked so good she passes out, aftercare is included

Notes: first time writing for miguel? pog? also welcome to kinktober everyone its gonna get freaky >:)

Miguel is constantly pinning you to things. He’s not even doing it on purpose necessarily, he’s just so big.

It’s not his fault that he’ll reach for something over your head, or try to scooch behind you in the kitchen or hallway, and all of a sudden you’re pushed against the nearest surface being towered over by a 6’9 spider hybrid.

What is his fault is how he abuses it once he realizes how flustered it makes it. He’s always been very perceptive when it came to you. He knows how your cheeks flush red with embarrassment, how your breath hitches, and your thighs squeeze together in need, right as you look upward to view him caging you in. It always gives a sickening ego boost. You’re just so small compared to him. Breakable. Fragile. Delicate. Delicious.

He starts subtlety. Sneaking behind you when you’re making morning coffee, hovering behind when you work at your desk, and of course, getting you down on your knees for him whenever possible. It doesn’t take long to escalate however, coming to a head one night before he is set to attend a Spider Society gala with you as his plus one.

You slide the dress up your body carefully, allowing the snug material to cling tight around your breasts in its strapless style. You straighten it out and peered over your shoulder to call, “Miggy? Can you come zip me up please?”

You adjust your hair and makeup in the mirror as you listen to his lumbering footsteps, smiling when he appears behind you, his eyes tracing over your curves in the reflection. He takes a step closer, and the way his shoulders dwarf yours causes your breath to hitch. He slides a hand up your side and another comes to rest on the back of your neck. You open your mouth to make the request again, but the air is knocked out of you as he pushes forwards, pinning you firmly to the floor-length mirror without looking away from his scanning of your body.

“Sweet, tiny little thing. You’re so easy to push around, aren’t you, mi princesa?” He pushes his hips forward to rut against your ass, and your eyes nearly roll to the back of your head from the combo of his growling tone and his hot erection against you. He leans down to nip at your earlobe before muttering, “I know you love how much bigger than you I am. Does it make you feel all funny? To know how I could wreck you, how I could turn you into my cowering prey, stuck underneath me? It makes your brain all fuzzy. And it makes your cunt dripping wet.” He uses the hand on your side to tug up the dress, exposing your bare ass. He scoffs at the lewdity and gives one of the round globes a spank, forcing a whimper from you.

You watch him in the mirror as he blocks you in on all sides while running a finger down to your folds, teasingly sliding it against your entrance before bringing it to his month to suck off the slick. He hums in approval and moves his arms to sit on either side of your head, leaving you boxed in but free to move against him.

“Spin around. I wanna look you in the eyes while I stretch your tight pussy to it’s breaking point, and if I see you look away I will make sure neither of us sees this event tonight.”

You gulp and slowly twirl around, having to crane your neck to meet his eyes even as he leers down at you. He places a hand over yours and coaxes it to the front of his crotch, using you to squeeze at his bulge before instructing you to undo the zipper and pull him out. You obey without hesitation, allowing him to tug down the top of your dress and reveal your tits as you do. His cock springs eagerly from its confines, precum already leaking from the tip that has flushed a deep purple.

Instinctively you try to drop down to your knees, your clouded headspace demanding that you needed to gag around him as soon as possible, but he manhandles you back up and off the ground with your wrists above your head and legs wrapped around his slutty waist. The rough force has you moaning softly, eyes already glazed over despite the lack of direct stimulation. It makes him chuckle darkly.

He lines his tip up with your entrance and gives no warning before sliding in with a single thrust. The slick dripping down your thighs is plenty of lube as he begins an earth-shattering pace, hips slamming into yours and tip kissing your cervix with every thrust. He leans down and vigorously sucks and bites around your breasts, littering them with hickeys while you cry on his cock, sobbing hysterically from pleasure.

He pulls away from his marking to take in your appearance, at the fat globs of tears gathering on your cheeks make his hips stutter and his abs tense. “God, princesa, feels so good to corrupt you like this,” he switches his grip from your hip to your tummy so he can thumb at your clit, “So ruined for me. Molded this tiny cunt to my dick, so it’s perfect just for me.” You whimper at the praise, jaw dropping open and tongue lolling out as he slides against the spongey spot inside you and rubs fast circles around your bundle of nerves.

“That’s it, my good little girl. So delicate, just gotta take care of you by breaking that poor little brain every once and awhile. Go ahead sweet thing, cum on me, show me how good little prey thank the predators.” His words send you spinning into the abyss, everything in your body pulling taunt and then snapping back as your vision goes from white to black and suddenly you’re so light and floaty that you can’t feel the way you soak Miguel’s cock, nor the way he cums deep inside you as your walls milk him dry. You don’t feel him carry you to the bed, or feel him drag the damp cloth between your legs. You don’t feel how he kisses both your cheeks in hopes of getting your eyes to flutter open, to no avail.

What you do feel is when he pulls your trembling body against his broad chest, rubbing up and down on your arms softly and whispering to you. “Mi amor, you gotta come back to me now. Open up those eyes for me. You did so good for me baby, surprised you made it as long as you did without passing out on my dick. C’mon, wakey wakey corazón.” His words are encouragement enough to float back downwards, settling into his touch until you have enough strength to pull your eyelids open and peer up at him with large doe-eyes. “Aw, welcome back little girl. Te amo.”

[moonstruckme]

summary: when James moves into your apartment, you need a bit of an adjustment period

part 1 │ part 2 │ part 3 │ part 4 │part 5 │ part 6

roommate!James x shy!reader ♡ 1k words

You go downstairs the way a meerkat pokes its head out of its burrow. Cautious, watchful. When you spot James standing over a sizzling pan in the kitchen, it’s a bit of effort not to sigh, but you go anyway, hunger temporarily taking priority over solitude. It’s just going to have to be another quick meal.

“Hey.” James looks up from a recipe he’s reading on his phone, grinning at you. 

You press your lips together in a smile of response. The girl who’d occupied James’ room before him wouldn’t have bothered to acknowledge you, and frankly, you’d liked her for that. You’d had a mutually ambivalent relationship; you’d both paid your rent, ignored the other’s food in the fridge, and gone about your days as if you each had the apartment to yourself. She had to move out because the maintenance crew tattled on her for having a pet, and though James only moved in a week ago, he’s invited you to hang out with his friends every time they’ve come over. Which is often. (He’s at least considerate enough to always ask first, and you always say yes. Partially because they don’t make huge messes and partially because you don’t know how to reply to a yes/no question any other way.) 

You go to the fridge, tearing the aluminum foil off a half-empty can of beans and shaking it into a bowl. You put it in the microwave. James reaches to turn down the stove, and, like a frightened animal, you flinch away from him. He doesn’t seem to notice, only retreating to the opposite counter to give you more room. 

“How’s your day going?” he asks, leaning back on his forearms. 

“Not bad,” you say. Another thing about James is that in addition to his relentless geniality, he’s ferociously attractive. It takes all of your willpower not to let your eyes dip from his face to where his short sleeves conform to his biceps when he leans that way, but your face heats regardless. “Yours?” 

“Pretty good, actually.” He smiles easily. “It’s gorgeous out, have you felt the weather?” 

You shake your head. “I haven’t been out yet.” 

James nods like he knows this already, humming noncommittally. You think you spy a bit of judgment in his look, but you can’t be sure. “So,” he says, “I have something to ask you.” 

You tense. “Okay…” 

“I know you value your privacy, and I totally respect that, but I feel like as your roommate it’s my responsibility to at least ask.” 

You feel your eyes narrowing as you nod for him to continue. 

James schools his face into seriousness, a frown on his lips that looks like it doesn’t belong. “Do you not eat?” 

You laugh, relieved and bemused. “Of course I eat.”

The smile he gives you is strained, clearly for your benefit rather than his. “You sure about that? Because this morning I just saw you have one—one—piece of toast for breakfast, and then for lunch you had…what?” 

You shy, more because of his notice than anything else. The microwave beeps and you use it as an excuse to turn around. “Some cheese and crackers.” 

When you pivot with the steaming bowl, James is looking at you incredulously.

“They’re really filling!” 

“That’s a snack, love, not a meal. Both of those are snacks. Did you have anything else?” 

You hold up the bowl in your hand. “I’m about to have some beans.” 

His laugh is monosyllabic. Appalled. “You’re not serious.” 

You roll your eyes at him even as your face heats. “Listen, it’s not my most nutritious day, but I’ve been in a rush, and…” You were going to say more, but decide against it. “Anyway, there’s protein in the beans, so.” 

James isn’t having it. “And what?” 

“Nothing.” 

“Something.” He raises his eyebrows at you. “C’mon, spill, or I’m going to call your mum and tell her about your big day of—“ He draws quotes in the air, full lips curving he does “—beans and crackers.” 

“And toast,” you joke. James’ smile is small and short-lived. Does he really have your mum’s phone number? He can’t possibly. 

You sigh. “Okay, it’s nothing to do with you, but I…I’m a bit weird about being in the kitchen at the same time.” James’ thick eyebrows meet in the middle, and your shoulders hunch instinctively but you force yourself to finish explaining. “I just want to grab whatever is quickest and go before I make things awkward, or something. But I know it’s stupid.” You shake your head. You could burn the apartment to cinders with the heat from your face. “I don’t own the kitchen. You have every right to be here, and I’ll get used to it eventually. It’s just that you’re new to me right now.” 

James' expression clears. “Oh, you’re shy.” 

You must look even more embarrassed at that, because he hurries to say, “That’s alright, it’s good to know how you feel about things. And now I don’t have to call your mum.” He grins, and it widens when you make a tiny effort to reciprocate. “I don’t mind stepping out of the kitchen so you can cook every now and then.”

“You really don’t have to.” 

“It’s no trouble.” He waves you off. “Honestly, it’s too small for both of us to comfortably use at the same time anyway. Careful by the way, that pan’s hot.” 

You glance behind you, and you’ve backed yourself nearly into the stove. You move away, squeaking out a thanks. 

James’ smile softens. “I do hope you're right about getting used to me eventually, though.” He gives you a kind look, and you have no idea how he can maintain eye contact with that much sincerity in his big brown eyes. You envy the skill. “I’d like to get to be friends, but we’ve got time for that.” 

You’ve no clue how to respond, some deer-in-the-headlights instinct taking ahold of you, but James doesn’t seem to be expecting one. He reaches out to squeeze your shoulder, taking back his place at the stove. You take that as your cue to go.

[peachesofteal]

Light On - single mom/neighbor fic Simon Riley/female reader 🎄Simon has himself a merry little Christmas - for @glitterypirateduck's cod holiday challenge

Simon opens his eyes to an empty bed on Christmas morning.

His breath catches in his chest when his hand slides across the sheets, instinctively seeking the warmth of your body, only to discover your side of the bed empty. 

His rational, tactical, professional mind tells him you've probably just gotten up with the baby. That for some reason, he slept too deeply and didn't wake up when she did this morning, like he usually does. You're in the guest room, Emmaline's room, now, or in the kitchen. Maybe you're already drinking your first cup of coffee. You're fine. The baby is fine. Nothing is wrong. 

But his heart... his heart screams. Terror ices his veins, adrenaline and fear taking control of his gross motor skills, legs twisting beneath him as he stumbles out of bed and races for the door. They’re fine, they’re fine, they’re fine-

“Sweetheart?” His voice betrays him. He sounds stressed, anxiety piquing, frantically turning the corner into the kitchen. Not again, he can’t do this again, this can’t happen again… 

It’s empty. The front door is still locked, and so is the patio’s, twinkling Christmas tree glowing in the late dawn light. His mind splits. Check Emmaline’s room, they’re probably in there, get control of yourself… and… the glock 19 is closest, should still be under the top shelf, call Price, mobilize the team- 

“Simon?” He whirls at the sound of your voice, air rushing out of his lungs, drawing into a relieved laugh. Emmaline is on your hip in a green, white, and red striped elf costume, complete with a pointed hat, jingle bell dangling from the top. “Morning.” You smile, and so does the baby. “Santa’s elf wanted to surprise you.” You’re still a little sleepy, eyes tired, and he does a double take when he realizes you’re in your underwear and one of his t shirts. 

“I’m… surprised.” Bloody hell. His brain isn’t working, his mouth rendering him stupid, still caught in fight or flight, and your lips subtly twist before your eyes soften, realization soft across your features. 

“Are you okay?” You question, and he nods, not trusting himself to not say something else moronic, flailing in the silence, failing. It’s been weeks since he’s felt like this, inept, clumsy, senseless, too easily settled into a life with you after that pipe burst in your flat and practically delivered him a holiday miracle, a treasure deposited right into his lap. “Here,” you push Emma into his arms, soft fingers over top his as you hand her off, looking up at him with that level trust, adoration that you’re always providing him, in your eyes. Just holding Emmaline settles the anxiety in his heart, soothes the raw buzzing that’s tearing through his head, and you smile, butting your head into his shoulder and placing a kiss there. “Will you take her while I get dressed?” 

“Yeah.” He croaks, as you squeeze his forearm, turning away. “Sweetheart,” he calls, stopping you in your tracks. He wants to tell you he thinks he loves you; he thinks he’d die without you; he thinks you’re the greatest thing he’s ever had, ever held, thinks you saved him, but nothing comes out. You hold his gaze for a second, and then two, before whispering.

“I know… me too.” Of course you do. You pause, cocking your head. “Could you make some coffee? Gonna be a long day.” You raise an eyebrow towards the Christmas tree, where all of Emma’s gifts sit perfectly arranged, and he nods. He can do that.

“Just three scoops of this,” he tells Emma, portioning out the coffee into the filter as she babbles at him from her perch in his other arm. “Mama likes it pretty strong, doesn’t she? And then some water, like this.” He pours the pitcher into the machine’s reservoir, flicking on the power and listening to the gurgle as he makes his way to the couch. He bounces Emma on his knee, little hands waving in the air, trying to grab the end of her hat and gnaw on it. The tree sparkles behind her, lights and ornaments all aglow, and she giggles when she tips herself forward, planting onto his chest with both hands. “Easy, baby girl.” Rolling onto her back in the crook of his arm, she squirms, smiling up at him, finger extended towards his chin. “What is it, eh?” He leans, and she pokes his cheek, cooing with a satisfied grunt. She fits so naturally in his side, just like you do, and he settles into the cushions, relaxing, allowing her to explore, tactile touch padding across his face, little fingernails scratching at his stubble.

“You two look cozy.” You murmur with a yawn, cup of coffee steaming in your palms. He smiles, and Emma lifts her head to look for you, tracking the sound of your voice. You perch at his other side, knees tucking up next to his hip, nestling your head against his shoulder, fingers tracing Emmaline’s cheek. “Whatcha doing sweet pea?” He brushes a kiss across the top of your head, and you sigh, arm wrapping around his stomach. "This is nice."

"It is." He agrees. It's more than nice, it's everything. Everything he didn't know was possible, everything he didn't know he wanted. It's nice, spending Christmas with his girls, cuddled up together on his couch in front of a Christmas tree that's loaded with presents for the baby. A Christmas, the holiday he used to shun… now brought back to life by you. Nice is a good word to describe it, but others flit through his mind as well: perfect, redeeming, salvation.

Purpose.

He takes a ragged breath, and you lean back to look at him, waiting.

"It's more than nice, sweetheart, it's... I... never thought, never dreamed this could happen in my life. You and Emmaline, you're... everything to me." He pauses, cradling your face, watching how your eyes shimmer with unshed tears. "I want," he swallows the lump in his throat. "I want you to stay. I want you to be here. Always." He needs you to stay, needs you like he needs air to breathe, needs you like he's never needed, never wanted, anything before in his life. He'd give you the world, if he could, wrap it up nicely and put it beneath the tree, but he doesn't know how to say that, how to explain.

He's grateful he doesn't have to.

"I'll be here, Simon. I'll be right here. With you." You take his hand, clutching onto him tightly. It's selfish, what he wants. Stupid. But he's not a good man... he's yours, and he'll be as wicked, as awful as he must to keep you and Emmaline safe. You're the only good thing about him now, and he'd dig himself free from a shallow grave all over again, just to crawl home to you. You've changed him, deeply. Fundamentally. Taught him the truth of love, of healing, your grief not so much different from his own, and he knows he'd die for you, he'd die for you ten thousand times.

Emmaline babbles at the sound of your voice, and you smile at her, not bothering to wipe away the tear that tracks down your cheek. "We're here. We'll stay. As long as you want us."

And christ, if that isn't the best Christmas gift he's ever be given.

[changbinlov3r]

You are my favorite

Pairing: Lee Know x afab!reader

Part 2 of Can I be your favorite?(Recommended to read the first part for context)

Genre: smut, fluff, angst(the tiniest bit)

Summary: you let your insecurities come in between your new relationship with Minho, luckily for you though, he's not gonna let you run away so easily.

Words count: 3,076

THIS CONTENT IS +18, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Warnings: oral(f. receiving), unprotected piv(wrap it before you tap it ffs), creampie, marking, hickeys, dirty talk(barely), Minho is possessive asf(is it even my fic if he's not possessive?), reader is insecure

You were sore when you woke up the next morning — or should you say, afternoon? It was already 2pm when you opened your eyes, finding Minho's place empty by your side.

You look around the room, now there's enough light coming from the windows for you to be able to see the room. You don't know how to explain it but it fits Minho perfectly, the decoration is discreet but not basic and it shows a lot of his personality, more than you're aware of.

You get up, not really sure what you're supposed to do. So you collect your things and start getting dressed, tying your hair in a ponytail to try and conceal the mess.

When you open the door, you look around before getting out, not sure if you're going to find someone and a bit embarrassed to be going away at this hour. You get down the stairs, walking past the kitchen at a quick pace but before you can turn the knob, you hear a voice behind you.

“Minho, your girl is trying to escape”, he yells, making you spin on your heels quickly looking at the telltale just to find a boy, who you're sure is Jeongin, the youngest of the frat house.

“Never thought you would be the type to smash and dash”, your crush says, popping out of the kitchen.

“I'm not!” You defend yourself, crossing your arms.

“That's not what it looks like to me”, he shrugs.

“I was just looking for you”, you lie and he scoffs, walking towards you.

“You shouldn't lie, princess”, he leans closer to you, making you gulp. “I don't like liars”, he whispers. Smirking when he sees your breath quickening and the way you lick your lips nervously. “Anyways, you can go if you want. I'll pick you up at 8”

“F-for what?” You ask, trying to recompose yourself.

“I told you I was going to take you out for dinner, didn't I?”

"I can't believe you're really going on a date with Minho”, Jihyo says, clapping excitedly while she searches for something in your wardrobe.

“I don't why he wants to go on a date with me”

“‘cause you're hot?” Your best friend says, as if it's obvious.

“He has a hundred other hot girls to take on dates”, you scoff, making Jihyo throw a pillow at you.

“Stop with the self depreciation, he doesn't want the other girls, he wants you. So get your ass over here so I can help you with your makeup”

You were hopeful but didn't think Minho would actually do as he promised. At exactly 8pm, you heard a knock on the door and Jihyo squealed, giving you a thumbs up and sending you to your date.

Minho was looking exceptionally handsome in all black, hands tucked in the pockets of his pants. He stares at you up and down with a grin on his lips.

“You look good”, he tells you, enjoying seeing your cheeks turning a dark shade of red.

“Y-you look nice too”, you say, stepping outside and closing the door behind you.

You are seated in front of him, not really sure what to do next, you two ordered your food and some expensive wine that you never heard about. The ride to the restaurant was a bit awkward, you felt the need to say something but didn't know what to say so you talked about the weather not realizing that he liked seeing you trying, nervous like a bunny being hunted by a predator, him.

“So, what's your major?” He asks, taking you out of your thoughts. He's resting his face on his hand while watching you fidget on your seat.

“Engineering”, you answer, sipping on the glass of water the waiter poured to you.

“That's interesting”, he smiles. “I'm a dance major”, he tells you.

“I know”, you say without thinking, covering your mouth immediately. “I mean, everyone knows”, you smile sheepishly.

“Ah, yes. You like me, right?” He smirks, proudly, making your face turn as red as a tomato.

“Please, stop saying that, it's embarrassing”, you hide your face in your hands.

“It's embarrassing that you like me?” He chuckles, tilting his head.

“You were not supposed to know that”, you clarify, “it's pathetic that I have feelings for someone who didn't even know I existed until last night”, you sigh.

“I clearly knew you existed, since I knew that you like me”, he teases. “I don't think it's pathetic, the heart wants what it wants”

“Is that why you dated all those girls?” You ask, naively, making his eyes grow wide. He didn't think you'd be that straightforward.

“No, I'm not one to rejected a nice looking girl”, he shrugs, “they just didn't manage to be more than that to me, but I'm sure they can be something more for someone else”

“Ah”, you nod, feeling awkward.

“Do you want to date me?” He asks nonchalantly like he's asking how was your day, making you choke on the water you just drank.

“What?” You ask, shocked.

“I think I was very clear”, he answers, scowling.

“Why would you want to date me?”

“I guess you heard me well”, he teases, “you're my type”, Minho clarifies.

“I don't think I'm, though”, you oppose.

“I think I know better than you who is or is not my type”

“I mean, I'm not pretty like your other girlfriends”, you push.

“Firstly: why would I want someone just like the people I broke up with? Second: I think you're pretty”

You feel your whole face hot, covering your mouth instantly so he doesn't see the stupid smile you have on your lips.

“Also, I like fucking you”, he ruins the moment, smirking, “I wanna keep doing that”

“What a gentleman”, you roll your eyes, ignoring the heat growing on your lower stomach. He doesn't need to know that you'd give anything for him to fuck you right now on the restroom of the restaurant.

“I can be one”, he stretches his arm, grabbing your hand, caressing it. “Or I can be the opposite of that, it's your call”, he shrugs.

That's precisely how you ended up fucking on the restaurant’s restroom. He pulled you inside the confined space, bending you on the sink and before you could prepare yourself his cock was inside of you.

“Fuck, kitten”, he groans, covering your mouth, not slowing down his thrusts. “You have to be quiet if you don't wanna get caught”, you nod, crying out, seeing his smirk through the reflection of the mirror.

You ended up dating him. It's not like it's a sacrifice for you or anything but you couldn't wrap your head around the reason that the Lee Minho would want to date you of all people. People's reaction was different from the one you expected too, they didn't really care, thinking he was going to dump you in a week.

However, to their surprise and especially yours, he didn't. Minho never even brought up the idea of breaking up and when you realized, two months had already passed.

After two months you still couldn't believe you were dating him and how hot he is, you always thought he was the most handsome man you ever saw but dating him hits differently. Now you can see him after a shower, coming out of the bathroom with only a towel wrapped around his hip, his muscular chest bare for you to drool over. He cooks for you, making your favorite foods or some you never ate before. He brings you snacks and makes side dishes for you to eat at home. Minho picks you up before class and takes you back home after or he invites you to sleep over at the frat. You're already acquainted with all his friends, they even come looking for you to show you things when you're in the house. It makes you wonder if they acted like that with all of his girlfriends. Two months of the sweetest romance and the best sex you've ever had.

At least it was. You're not going to deny it, you're insecure. Minho is someone you never thought you could reach, so to be his girlfriend? It's something you never imagined. As he told you before, he has a great number of options, so the possibility that he'll replace you anytime, scares you.

You try forgetting about that, try not to overthink, until you find him at the library with a girl all over him. She's beautiful, perfect skin and shiny hair, she's hanging too close to him, touching his arm and throwing her head back in an exaggerated laugh. She's actually touching him at any chance she gets and you're there paralyzed like an idiot, watching it.

You feel the tears brimming in your eyes and you turn around and walk to the opposite side. You are his girlfriend, you should definitely step in, but in all honesty, you are too scared. Scared he'll look at you like you are nothing, that he's finally going to look at you with cold eyes like you have been waiting for it to happen.

You don't talk to him for days, avoiding meeting with him and ignoring his calls. You know it's childish to just ignore someone like that but you just needed to prepare yourself for the dreadful conversation you were about to have. It's going to be for the best if you two break up, he can go back to the way he lived before and you can stop worrying about when he's going to get tired of you.

It's not a surprise when Minho shows up at your door, you expected that to happen but wasn't expecting his appearance. He has his hair disheveled, deep eye bags under his eyes and he looks furious.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He asks, angrily, not even greeting you and storming inside your apartment like a hurricane. “Why did you disappear?”

“I needed to think”, you murmur, closing the door behind you.

“Think about what? You should at least have answered my texts”, he huffs, taking his jacket off and throwing it on the couch.

“About us”, you answer him, making his face soften a bit.

“What about us?” He asks, tilting his head in confusion.

“I think it's best if we break up”, you tell him at once, not really capable of dragging this conversation for too long, it was already so hard to say that sentence, you are about to cry at any minute.

“What are you on about?” He frowns, taking a step closer to you, but you take a step back.

“I'm trying to make the right decision for the both of us”, you sigh, “it's not like this is going to last anyways, you should go find someone who's on your level”

He scoffs, breathing a laugh. You expected any other reaction of him, but that one was not included.

“So that is what this is about”, he starts walking towards you and you start stepping back, until you bump into the kitchen table with nowhere else to run. Minho gets closer to you, looking down on you as he cages you between the table and his body.

“My kitten is insecure, is that it?” He asks, making you blush with the pet name. Minho never gets tired of making you flustered.

“I'm not”, you lie, avoiding his gaze.

“You know I don't like liars”, he tells you, “but I guess it's on me, if I did a better job as your boyfriend you wouldn't be feeling like this’, he pouts.

“You are a great boyfriend”, you murmur, trying not to look into his eyes, he's too close.

“Hm? I am?” He teases. “Then what's it, kitten, did you find someone more interesting than me?” He smiles, it was supposed to be a joke but the way your eyes widened with that simple suggestion makes him a bit mad. “Is that it?” He asks, narrowing his eyes to stare at you.

“No, there's no one like that”, you tell him.

“Then why did you hesitate?”, he raises his brows in questioning. You were just too shocked to answer right away but he doesn't let you tell him that. “Nice way to make me angry”, he scoffs. “I told you I can be a fucking gentleman so why do you always make me be the opposite of that?” He asks, taking a step closer to you and pressing his body against yours. His hands slide around your waist, caging you even more in his hold.

“Minho, I-”, you try to speak but he tsks, interrupting you.

“You need to learn a lesson”, he tells you, leaning closer and brushing his lips on your cheek, trailing it down to your jaw and then your neck. “You are mine”, he whispers before attaching his mouth to your neck, biting on your skin so hard you whine with the pain.

His hands slide down to your ass, squeezing it and pulling you up, to sit on the table. You were on your pjs already ready to sleep and that makes his access to your body easier, the thin fabric of your clothes can barely block the warmth coming from his body to yours.

Minho pops open his dress shirt, letting it slide and fall on the floor, watching your reaction to him. You bite on your bottom lip, staring at his muscular chest. He always looks so good, you feel like moaning just by looking at him.

“Min…”, you murmur, spreading your legs wide for him. It's not like you can resist him anyways.

“There you are”, he smiles, unbuckling his pants and letting it fall down at his feet, “my needy girl”

You avoid his eyes, pulling your shirt off to reveal your bare chest to him.

“You look so hot, all spread for me like this”, he smiles, getting on his knees. Minho pulls the waistband of your shorts and panties down, watching your glistening cunt in excitement. “Is this because of me or are you thinking about someone else?” He pushes, finally seeing you look at him, shaking your head frantically.

“It's all you, the only one I think about is you”, you confess, feeling your cheeks hot.

Minho grins, putting your legs over his shoulders and kissing your inner thighs. He licks your pussy slightly, just teasing you, making you put your hands on his head to force him against your core.

You can feel him smile, licking a long strip between your folds, attaching his lips to your clit next. Minho slides his hand between your legs, inserting two fingers inside of you, going in and out while he sucks your aching core, grunting and groaning with you pulling on his hair and he watches as you become undone in his mouth.

You can feel your orgasm coming, your toes curl immediately and you buck your hips against his mouth desperately, chasing your high and when the knot on your lower stomach finally explodes, you moan loudly, trembling in his embrace.

Minho stands up, cleaning around his mouth with his fingers and then licking on them.

“Still my favorite taste”, he smirks. You look stunning with your soft lips parted and hair disheveled, your chest rises and falls in a fast rhythm.

“This is going to be the last time I'll let you have your way”, you try looking the least bit believable while stating that, but that only makes him chuckle, stroking his cock a few times before he comes closer to you.

“And that only proves that you still haven't understood the situation you're in”, he tells you, teasing your entrance with the head of his cock while he waits for you to stop him but you don't, you want to feel him inside you so fucking much that it seems like you're going crazy. He pushes in, feeling your cunt squeezing him deliciously. “Fuck”, Minho murmurs. Your arms wrap around his waist, burying your nails in his skin, the snap of his hips against yours making you breathless.

He kisses you, feeling your sweet lips against his only adds to the building up of his orgasm, you look so pretty, you're perfect for him, your pussy is perfect for him, he won't let you end things with him that easily.

He pulls away from you for a moment, your mouth is parted and your eyes are glossy, he wants to hold you forever.

“I'm in love with you”, he confesses, thrusts faltering a bit. Your eyes grow wide to his sudden revelation. “You won't get rid of me that easily, kitten”, he groans, pressing his lips against yours one more time.

That's enough for you to cum, squirming and trembling in his embrace, while you watch him breathlessly thrust inside of you, eyes locked with yours.

“Do it inside”, you cry out, overstimulated after your second orgasm. Minho groans, bending towards you and kissing you, spilling his hot cum inside you while he bites on your lips.

He rests his head on your shoulder, breathless, trying to recompose himself.

“Don't ever talk about breaking up, ever again”, he pulls away to look at you, finding your eyes brimming with tears.

“But I saw that girl hitting on you the other day at the library”, you pout, making him sigh, cupping your face with both of his hands.

“Yes, she was hitting on me but I told her I have a really smart, hot girlfriend and that I was not interested”, he tells you, making you feel like the greatest idiot in the world.

“I'm sorry, I should have checked with you first”, you say, “I just love you so much, I'm scared you're going to dump me”, you confess, making him chuckle. His heart beating like crazy, it's the first time you openly say you love him.

“Y/n, you're stuck with me for a long time”, he gives you a peck on the lips, “I won't ever do anything to hurt you, okay?”

You nod, feeling warmth spreading all over your chest.

“Now, you better prepare yourself, ‘cause you need to receive some punishment for disappearing and making me worry”, he tells you, showing you that devilish smirk of his and before you can run to save yourself, Minho is picking you up and dragging you to your room.

[vanteguccir]

You're mine | Matt Sturniolo

Matt Sturniolo x reader

Summary: Where Y/N is a ray of sunshine, and Matt is her dose of grumpness.

Warning: None.

Requested?: Yes, by @httpsm4tti

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.

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

"Get out."

Y/N smiled as she heard Matt's short and authoritative voice echo through the walls of their shared room.

"Hi baby, are you okay?"

Matt lifted his head instantly, pulling his attention away from the computer screen in front of him and toward the door, where his girlfriend was standing.

A tray was resting securely in her open palms as a teasing gaze looked back at him.

A sigh escaped his lips, and Y/N knew it wasn't because he was stressed about seeing her but rather completely relieved. His tense posture gradually eased, and his frown dissolved, giving way to a calming stance.

"What are you doing here, petal?" Matt's tone came out soft, his hands leaving the keyboard and resting on his gray sweatpants covered thighs.

"You've been locked in here for hours. I haven't seen you get out to eat or drink anything until now..." Y/N began, starting her quick steps towards the brunette. "And since I know you're on a task to answer every email sent to the channel, I decided to bring you some snacks and drinks." A big smile spread across her face, her hands working on resting the tray on the empty space of his desk.

Matt glanced briefly at the contents on the wooden surface, fighting back a smile as he noticed all of his favorite snacks, plus a handmade sandwich and a can of rootbeer.

"You didn't need to do all this, sweetheart." The boy brought his blue orbs back to his girlfriend, his right hand coming up and resting on her hip lightly, gently stroking the covered skin.

"Anything for you, my love."

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The sound of the door to his shared room with Y/N opening ​​echoed through Matt's ears. The boy was in the kitchen preparing breakfast for himself and his girlfriend, the sun's rays streaming through the living room's large windows serving as his only source of lighting.

Y/N's muffled and quick footsteps sounded through the small hallway that led to where he was.

The boy didn't need to turn around to know that she was now standing behind him, probably just the large wooden table separating them.

"Good morning, baby!" Y/N's voice was like music to his ears, and Matt found himself wondering how she could be so happy at this time of the day, a small "morning" escaping his lips in response. "You won't believe the dream I had."

A smile almost imperceptibly appeared on the right corner of Matt's lips, the kind of smile that only Y/N was capable of eliciting from him.

The boy turned around with Y/N's favorite mug in one hand and a small plate with flowers drawn on it in the other, both containing coffee with a dash of milk and waffles with honey, just the way his girl liked.

The brunette placed them both on the surface in front of the seat that Y/N had already designated as hers, picking up his own plate and mug before sitting down in front of her.

"Nick and I were at this different theater, and we were going to watch a horror movie, which already started out weird because we know how much he hates horror movies..." Y/N started quickly, pausing momentarily to take a bite of her waffle, a hint of honey smearing the corner of her mouth. "But the weirdest thing was that the movie wasn't horror. It only had two main characters, and they rode horses the whole time. And then, out of nowhere, they adopted a mute dog and a blind cat, which were the cutest little things I've ever seen..."

The girl kept going, her voice changing intonation with each word while her expressions moved quickly, her free hand gesturing while her other hand held her waffle tightly, taking bites from time to time.

Matt remained silent, a serious - but relaxed - expression took over his face, while his mouth slowly chewed the pieces of his own toast, nodding his head every now and then, showing to her that he was paying attention, just like everyday.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

To outsiders, the scene unfolding there seemed to be amusing.

Y/N, with a big smile on her face and yellow flowing dress surrounding her, was quickly pulling a serious-looking Matt with completely black clothes, which covered almost his entire body.

"Come on, baby! There's an ice cream cart right there." The girl repeated the information that had already been given previously, pointing enthusiastically with the index finger of her free hand at the small pastel-colored cart on the other side of the street.

"I can see that." Matt muttered, feigning annoyance, but everyone who knew them knew how much he was loving it.

"Can I get a strawberry one? Please! Oh, and which flavor will you want? I know you love the chocolate one, but it's so nice to change things up sometimes." Y/N rambled, finally approaching the cart, smiling big at the salesperson in greeting. "So?"

"You can order anything you want for me." Matt surrendered, catching the intense gleam in his girl's eyes with his response before averting his own, fishing his wallet out of his pocket, ready to just make the payment and seat on a random wooden bench, looking forward to hearing her ramble about her week.

"Good afternoon! Can I have a strawberry one and a cream one, please?"

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

"Baby, can you get me a Diet Coke? Please." Y/N briefly interrupted her conversation with Tara, looking at her boyfriend.

Matt was sitting next to Y/N on one of the couches at Tara's big 1 million party, his arms were crossed and his expression was serious - almost angry -, his eyes carried a steady gaze that circled around the people in the room, ignoring the screams and loud music, only his girl's voice echoing in his ears.

The brunette looked at her momentarily, nodding and leaning down slightly, sealing his lips on the side of her head gently before standing up, walking with firm steps towards the nearest bar.

It didn't take long, and soon the boy was returning to his previous spot, his hands balancing a can of Diet Coke and a can of Rootbeer.

His blue eyes almost instantly found the figure of his girlfriend, who was still talking to Tara, but now Nick was with them as well.

A small smile appeared on his lips as he watched her speak with so much passion, gesturing too much and changing her expressions too quickly.

But his own smile quickly fell when he saw a strange guy sitting in his previous seat, wrapping his arm over the back of the couch right behind Y/N's head and bringing his body closer to his girlfriend's, too close for his liking.

It was obvious that the guy knew Tara, as he immediately started talking to her, but his body language showed his interest in Y/N.

"Move. Now." Matt's serious and rude voice suddenly sounded as soon as he approached them, startling the small group. His eyes were fixed on the unknown boy, glaring at him.

His action brought small reactions from the others; Nick rolled his eyes, already used to his brother and his way of acting with everyone - except his girl. Tara raised her right eyebrow, her eyes traveling from the boy to Matt and back again.

But Y/N just smiled sincerely, ignoring the rudeness of his tone. Her eyes instantly lit up upon meeting her boyfriend and even more so upon seeing him holding her order.

"I won't repeat myself." Matt demanded, keeping his gaze steady on the guy, who quickly understood the message and got up from the couch, raising his hands in surrender before leaving.

Matt sat back down in the now empty space, handing his girl the Diet Coke before placing his arm right where the other boy's was, his fingertips caressing the exposed skin of her right shoulder.

He took advantage of Tara and Nick starting a new topic and brought his head closer to Y/N's, pressing his lips against her ear.

"You're mine, babe. Only mine."

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

"Are you ready, honey?" Y/N asked as she finished fastening her necklace around her neck, her eyes fixed on the mirror next to their closet in the room she shared with Matt.

"I just... I don't know which sneakers to wear." Matt's voice sounded tired, his brow furrowed as his eyes traveled over the extensive row of sneakers he owned.

The girl turned around, approaching him while throwing her hair over her shoulders, running her hands over the light pink dress that hugged her body just right.

The two were getting ready to go to the Snapchat event that would take place in a few hours, and as usual Matt always asked his girlfriend for some tips on one of the pieces he would wear for the day.

"Wear the white and blue Jordans. I like how they look on you." Y/N opined, pointing to the indicated pair, caressing his right bicep before turning around, crossing the already open bedroom door to check if Nick and Chris were ready.

The duo was lying on the sofa, both ready and using their respective phones, just waiting for the couple.

"Finally! If I knew how to drive, I would have left you two behind." Chris grumbled, adjusting his posture on the upholstery and putting his cell in his pants pocket.

"You still didn't learn to drive properly because you're lazy and too comfortable with me just driving your ass around." Matt's voice echoed behind Y/N, his figure leaving their room and closing the door behind him, his expression straight and his eyes carrying a serious gaze.

"Oh my God, you look handsome, baby! I knew Jordan would work out just fine." Y/N ignored the small fight between them, her eyes traveling over Matt's body, admiring his clothes despite them being simple and black - as always.

Matt rolled his eyes, feigning annoyance, but the traces of an almost non-existent smile appearing on the right corner of his lips while his cheeks took on a red hue said otherwise.

"Oh, how handsome you are, Matt." Nick joked, imitating Y/N's voice and fawning his right hand over his face, blinking his eyes repeatedly, earning a loud laugh from Chris and an amused smile from Y/N.

"Shut the fuck up. Get moving. Now!" Matt barked back, glaring at his brothers before finally approaching his girl.

He placed his left hand on the small of her back, gently guiding her to the stairs that led them to the garage, ready to go.

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

My asks are always open. My requests are closed at the moment since I have many to work in, but you can always send questions or simply talk to me 🩷💋

And remember to treat people with kindness always!

~ taglist:

@lustfulslxt @ladybunny44 @worldlxvlys @earth2starkey @remussbitch @freshloveforthefit @il0vebeingdelulu @sturniolowhore @mimi-luvzyu @alorsxsturn @urfavgirllyyyyy @domizzzsstuff @sturnizd @hearts4chris @cupidzsq @dracoflaco @leah-loves-lilies @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @rootbeerworshiper @junnniiieee07 @elliesturniolo1 @sstvrnioloo @lightsgore @gidgett11037 @sturniolho @ksskianshd @ccolleenn @sturniolo-lover1317 @soimightlikeoldmen69 @hrtyjy @ldr-sl0t @breeloveschris @iammattswife

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

[randomshyperson]

Baby, I'm Yours - Wanda Maximoff Oneshosts

Summary: The Avengers gain a new member, and Wanda Maximoff mistakenly assumes she has gained a rival instead of a friend. Or the one where Wanda has a crush that she doesn't know how to deal with. [Requested]

Warnings: really fluff, enemies to lovers, some kissing and a lot of teasing, avengers being a family, emo!Wanda and her first gay crush. | Words: 4.564k

A/N-> This was requested a while ago and I used it as practice for a winter soldier!reader idea that I had. Idk if I would ever make a series out of this idea, but it was fun to write this reader.

General Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad

-&-

Seven months after she joined the Avengers, someone else did too.

Unlike her, Sam was extremely excited by the news, he woke up early and somehow managed to convince Vision to join him in the welcome. 

Wanda would have skipped the interaction - She only went to get breakfast and intended to spend the rest of the training-free day filled with interactions between the team, hiding in her room and watching old TV shows. But as soon as she noticed the little witch sneaking around the kitchen trying to go unnoticed by Sam's excited theories about who the new avenger would be, Natasha whistled and called out to her.

"Good morning, Maximoff. Do you intend to welcome our new colleague in pajamas?" The widow asked, hiding a teasing smile behind a cup of coffee. 

The question already implied what Wanda had feared, and made her sigh. "I didn't know I was expected to take part in the welcome."

Nat grimaced softly - she seemed to be finding the whole thing very amusing.

"What an idea, Maximoff, of course you are! We were all there waiting for you when it was your turn."

She forced a smile, resisting the urge to snap back something bratty like "Thor wasn't". Deciding she had no reason to argue with Natasha, she busied herself with preparing some toast and pouring herself some tea.

When Sam suddenly tapped on the counter, everyone looked at him.

"I got it!" he declared excitedly. "I bet the new guy is Spider-kid!"

Nat frowned. "Who?" and then chuckled to the Falcon's obvious disappointment.

"Come on, the colorful vigilante who keeps throwing webs around? How come you've never heard of him?"

Assuming a thoughtful expression for a moment, Nat flipped through the newspapers on the counter before clicking her tongue on the roof of her mouth.

"Ah, I think Tony's got his eye on that one." She says. "But, no, Wilson. The new recruit isn't the spider. And there's no point in giving me that look, as I won't spoil the surprise."

It looked like the subject was ending - at least that Sam was going to give up. It wasn't long before the rest of the team showed up for coffee, and Wanda mumbled a few good mornings back quickly before making her way to her own room, to change into something more presentable than fluffy pajamas.

But on the way to the bedroom, from one of the glass entrance doors, Steve Rogers appeared and he was accompanied.

"[...] Come on, we're early, they must still be having breakfast." Commented the older Avenger, busy taking off his coat, it took him a moment to notice that Wanda was in the hallway. She was staring, probably. "Oh, good morning, Wanda. I want you to meet someone."

But Wanda already knew you, straight from the television. And from the Shield's files of potential Avenger-level threats. 

So maybe that's why when Steve said your name, patted you on the shoulder and you held out your hand for Wanda to shake, she just stared.

"Okay, not a handshaker." You mumbled awkwardly, lowering your arm. "You're Wanda Maximoff, mind reader and former enemy, right? I didn't expect the shock, given the circumstances."

"Hey, easy." Steve grumbled at your aggressiveness, giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze. Wanda narrowed her eyes at you, but you didn't look too intimidated, your posture relaxed and your hands in the pockets of your leather jacket. "That's in the past. We're all friends now. Aren't we, Wanda?"

With some resistance, she eventually forced a smile and tried to relax her posture. She sighed and nodded. "Of course, Steve. It's nice to meet you apart from the news, Miss Barnes. Should we wait for your brother to join us or does he still have Interpol on his back?"

You chuckle dryly. "Listen here, you-"

"Okay, enough." Steve interrupts, pulling you by the shoulders and giving Wanda a disapproving look. He also whispers that he'll have a talk with her later, but the witch turns away, dragging her feet back into the bedroom while you and Rogers head in the opposite direction.

On the way to the kitchen, you mutter: "And here I thought superheroes were polite."

The soldier chuckles briefly. "You tried to blow up the White House, you can understand the hesitation. Now come on, we've got the rest of the team to shock." 

It had taken her hours to see you again, not that anyone had asked her opinion, but Steve had put you in the room next to hers on the justification that it would be good for the two of you to have someone close in age to pass the time.

Wanda grimaced and reminded him that you were about 150 years old. Steve chuckled.

"Technically, yes. But she spent almost all that time on ice, so she was only really around for less than 20 years. Can you please try to be friendly? You have more in common than you might think."

Wanda begrudgingly agreed to be the one to give you a tour of the tower. And so she could also discover that she was apparently the only Avenger who was hesitant about your presence on the team.

She knew your list of skills off the top of her head, but still wondered if you could read what she was thinking when you added; "Your hesitation is totally fine, Maximoff. It must be hard to share the podium as the team's coolest person, but you get used to it."

She chuckled awkwardly at the compliment mixed with teasing at the end of the tour. You offered her a farewell wink, thanking her for the favor before muttering that you needed a shower after several hours of driving. You disappeared to your own room before Wanda could come to a coherent conclusion as to why her heart was racing inside her chest.

Perhaps she was having a panic attack? 

Wanda turned on her heels and made her way to Bruce's lab. A quick check-up would clarify things.

While assuring her that she didn't have a chronic arrhythmia, Bruce also - under the influence of Natasha and Tony - diagnosed her with something very common to teenage patients: a crush.

"Did you consider Miss Maximoff, that perhaps, you may have just liked her?"

She did not take this very well. 

"What? That's ridiculous! I'm not even gay!" Bruce looked up from the normal results of the cardiology test she had demanded and offered her a small smile.

"All right, Miss Maximoff, maybe I made a mistake. You're probably just anxious about your return to action next week." The doctor suggested and Wanda stood up from the lab chair with an impatient huff.

"That's definitely it." She assured him, not wasting any more time on Bruce and his absurd theories after thanking him for the tests.

After such an unfortunate situation, Wanda began to avoid you. It was the most viable solution when someone caused her to have irregular heartbeats, sweat or tremors. Perhaps she was allergic to you.

Obviously, she should keep her distance.

But it seems that the team had other ideas.

"Barnes and Maximoff, you're together. No gloves, come on." Natasha arrived at the gym announcing, an iPad with the training schedule in hand. Wanda, who had spent a good few weeks with the successful plan of interactions limited to greetings, nearly had a stroke. At least her partner, Sam, was keen enough to hold off his punch before it got to her. Wanda hadn't even heard his comment about her getting distracted in a fight and her feet were moving towards the mat, her eyes quick to notice your breathless figure removing the fighting gloves you had been using on a practice dummy for the last few minutes.

"Let's see if training with Wilson has taught you anything, Maximoff." You commented with a smile that made her stomach jump. Something about your sweaty, panting appearance was making her dizzy. 

The rest of the team spread out on the edges of the mat, interested to see the exercise, and it was only Natasha who came up to you to lead the whole thing.

"Start with the basics, I want to see Wanda's reaction time." The widow explained, squeezing the two of you on the shoulder. Before turning away completely, she raised a finger in warning to the younger brunette. "And no magic tricks, Maximoff. Even if you're losing."

Wanda smiled, rolling her eyes. Only once had she done that to Natasha and it seemed the widow would never let that story die.

Before the whistle blew, you looked her in the eye. "I'll take it easy on you, little witch." You whispered teasingly, and Wanda felt something burn in her lower belly. She also decided that she had to win because she had to get that smirk off her face.

It was an easier task than it looked - and it was all down to the fact that if there was one thing Hydra had taught her well, it was to exploit weaknesses. 

And yours was to care about her. Every hesitation in your movements, your awareness of the super-soldier strength that could hurt her, made it very easy for Wanda to exploit it, slip away, and dodge all your blows. And there was something else too; a soft choke in your breathing every time she got too close, tangled up between one move and the next. The way your ears turned three shades redder when she managed to knock you over and landed on your chest. 

"Wow, Maximoff really is kicking your ass." taunted Sam from the corner of the room, grinning at Barton and Nat.

You didn't seem to mind, licking your lips as you took a second look at the position Wanda now found herself in; sitting on your hips. 

She did, however, give you an annoyed look. "Don't hold back, I can take it." 

"I'm sure you can, little witch." You retorted ironically, leaning yourself fully back onto the mat. 

Wanda grunted angrily, then grabbed the collar of your blouse. "Fight for real! I don't need you to take it easy, I can handle it."

The disarming was so quick that she barely had time to blink - one second she was on your hips, the next her back was pressed to the mat with her hands pinned to the side of her head.

Your body on top of hers, pressing her to the floor, made her choke.

For a moment, as your dilated eyes descend to her mouth, you also seem to forget what you were doing, and the audience around you.

But suddenly, you let go; a dry, humorless laugh escaping you as you stand up. And you turn to Nat as if you hadn't just dropped Wanda on the mat.

After ignoring you for weeks, she thinks she deserves it.

"Her fight is decent, so I think we had enough."

Nat raises an eyebrow, a smile playing on her lips. "Oh, are you the one deciding on the training now, Barnes?"

You smile briefly before retorting; "Come on, everyone knows she's not punching her way out of fights when she can use the energy tricks. It's a waste of time making the girl train like a soldier."

Natasha doesn't seem to agree. She follows you towards the locker room, arguing how important it is to eliminate the team's vulnerabilities, while the rest scatter around the gym, some giving up practicing to get something to eat and others going back to wrestling.

Wanda regrets sitting on the mat because in that position she can watch you at the locker room door, tugging at your training shirt, exposing a strong muscular back and a lot of skin because of the sports top that doesn't do much good to hide it. 

Natasha continues to talk to you without taking any notice of the gesture, so Wanda is sure she's the problem. Her stupid brain and heart are clearly forgetting that she can't handle a crush right now. 

She doesn't even have Pietro anymore, who, as soon as he'd finished tormenting her about it, would give her advice. Because he's always had a natural talent for this kind of thing, while the last time Wanda tried to flirt with a boy, it sounded like a threat. 

She can't do this on her own. And with that conclusion, she tries to get over it. Maybe Google has some tips, or maybe, the walking computer that hangs around the tower can help.

"Vis?" 

The synthesized man took his eyes off the book in his lap when Wanda called out to him, a few days after the training session where, since being pressed into a mat by you, Wanda found herself unable to think of anything else. 

"Hello, Wanda." He greeted her gently, closing the pages and waiting for her to approach.

"I need your help with something."

"Oh, what would that be?"

Wanda pressed her lips together, her hands restless in front of her body. "Would you be able to tell me the most efficient way to... get over someone?" Vision frowned in surprise, and Wanda sighed. "Someone we shouldn't like. Definitely inappropriate."

Vis opens her mouth, still in shock at the whole thing, but it's someone else who speaks;

"What's definitely inappropriate?" Tony asks, and Wanda thanks the gods he didn't hear the first part. 

"N-nothing!" Rebuts the witch quickly, the color of her cheeks probably giving her away. Stark looks at her suspiciously, then at Vis.

"Okay, what are you two love birds talking about?" The Vision would have blushed if he could. He gets visibly embarrassed, smiling shyly.

That's great as if Wanda needed one more extra thing to stress her out. 

She can barely contain her grimace at the nickname, but Tony doesn't bother; Vision is at least quick to change the subject, and surprises Wanda with his ability to lie very well. 

"We were just commenting on how inappropriate General Ross's accusations were at the last meeting." And that's enough to distract Stark.

Wanda practically flees the scene after that. For a long moment, she had even forgotten about the tension that had been swirling around the Avengers over the last few days, precisely because your absence from the compound made her - not that she would admit it - miss you terribly. And all she could think about was inevitably you, busy on missions with Steve in search of your brother James.

With your presence increasingly rare in the Compound, Wanda hoped that the crush would go away, but every time she happened to bump into you between missions, the feelings came back with an overwhelming force, like two lovers the war kept apart. It was frustrating, to say the least. Especially since Wanda was nothing more than a teammate. Hardly a friend.

When Lagos happened, and it was the worst thing that could possibly occur, at least Wanda had something else to think about. And this time, Ross's visit to the Compound was more than inappropriate - it was final.

Accords and fights between the team led to an unbearable situation. With half of her colleagues out for meetings with the United Nations, Wanda was still grounded at the Compound, waiting for news.

She didn't expect you to be sneaking around.

"You shouldn’t be here." That's the first thing she says as she fully opens the bedroom door you left ajar. Wanda could lie about being your fault that she found you, when in fact she had become an expert at sensing your aura over the last few weeks, the ability to just know when you were around, perfecting itself every time you two met.

You chuckle, without diverting your attention from the task of filling your backpack with as many things as you can squeeze inside. Wanda had the impression that many of the items you came to collect in your room were old presents; everything the others had gotten you over the last few holidays. Things that were precious.

"I'm aware. I won't be long." You retort, folding some socks together to put them away in the closet.

Wanda should call Vis - he's working as a sort of watchman for the tower or something. And he was supposed to notify Tony of your presence. But instead, she closes the door.

Twisting her fingers in anxiety, she asks:

"Where are you going to run off to?"

Offering her a quick glance as you returned to your suitcase to put away some underwear that made Wanda look away, you replied; "I can't tell you that, little witch."

Wanda almost smiled at the nickname. Instead, she took a desperate step forward.

"Would you take me with you?"

Standing back, you chuckle. "Funny."

"I wasn't joking."

You leave the St. Petersburg snow globe you got as a present from Natasha on the dresser and turn with a frown to the witch behind you. "Maximoff, come on-"

"I'm serious." She insists. "Stark grounded me. Like a fucking child. “ She then chuckles sadly. “Or worse, a problem he didn't want to deal with. And I know I fucked up in Lagos-"

"Don't say that, Lagos wasn't your fault." You interrupt her with a certain determination. "You need to remember that, alright?"

Wanda smiles softly at your reassurance, looking away because her face is suddenly very warm. You sigh then grab just one more change of clothes before zipping up your suitcase.

"It's not because of the company, Wanda." You mutter suddenly, with the backpack on your shoulders. She looks at you with confusion, but you don't meet her gaze. "I just don't think it's right, everything that's happening. And I don't think we should all be fighting with each other. But that's what's going to happen from now on. If you come with me, Steve probably expects you to be choosing sides. And I wouldn't want anyone to get hurt."

Her heart skips a beat, but Wanda takes a chance;

"Anyone... or me?"

You're taken aback, but you don't lose your poise. You sighed deeply before approaching her without haste, without any hint of what you were going to do either. Wanda opens her mouth again, to apologize for being so difficult, but you muffle the statement with a kiss.

It's the first time she's kissed another girl if that isn't obvious. She melts, panting and so very shy; it's a good thing that you hold her waist, while your other hand keeps your face close by grabbing her chin gently. Wanda's lungs scream for air after a moment, but she refuses to pull away from a sensation as good as kissing you.

Something like a whimper of need escapes her when you break the act, or maybe it's the way you give her lower lip a gentle tug with your teeth that leaves her trembling, ready to beg for more.

"Sorry if that was sudden." It's the first thing you say, your voice is hoarse, and as affected as your breathing. You smile, your thumb wiping away some of the mess left by Wanda's gloss. "But I think it took us long enough."

She babbles like a fish, unable to form a coherent thought for a whole moment. You wait patiently, your hands touching her shoulders, sliding down her arms as a way of calming her. Wanda has dreamed so much of feeling you that the touch meant to ease her nerves has quite the opposite effect; every inch of skin you touch tingles.

"H-how... did you know?" she asks, and you give a short laugh.

"I didn't." You retort gently. "Not for sure, at least. Not until two seconds ago when you asked to come with me. I had this... feeling. And this tension. Every time we walked into the same room, every time we were alone. I just felt…” You can put it into words exactly, so you just take a deep breath and smile at her. “I thought my mind was playing tricks on me, that the way I felt was making me imagine things but then you came in here. Sneak out into my room and ask if you could leave this fancy tower to run away with me to fight. I just had to be sure."

Wanda bites back a shy smile, feeling the heat spreading from her chest to her face and eras, and knowing for a fact that it's only going to get worse because of the way you're looking at her.

She tries to get some ground again.

"And are you..." A sigh, as one of your hands settles on her waist. "Sure?"

You hum thoughtfully before breaking the distance, kissing her in a different way than before. It's more intense and hungrier. Your tongue invades her mouth, exploring everywhere and your hands prevent her from pulling away when the oxygen is off. Every needy sound that escapes her is muffled against into lips. 

Wanda tentatively follows the rhythm, one of her hands wrapping in your hair. Your backpack falls to the ground and you hold her tighter now, pulling her into you. It's a significant difference between a super-soldier's body and her own, and just the quick memory of you pressing her against the mat makes her moan into your tongue.

The sound makes you lose your mind - Your hands become more determined, the kiss desperate. Wanda struggles for air, exposing the collarbone that keeps you busy as she tries to catch her breath. You bite down on her skin and she arches against you, her hands becoming bold enough to scratch your back and pull up your blouse.

But you break into a husky chuckle, slowing the kiss and pulling away to remind her; "We have to go." Between one touch and the next, "We don't have time."

She needs a whole moment to force her brain to work, and even after you're no longer touching her, and she's sneaking off to her own room to prepare a suitcase, she's still shaking.

When you meet again, running hand in hand with suitcases back to the garage, Wanda is surprised to realize that she was foolish to be afraid of something as good as this. 

That is, of course, until reality hits again.

Wanda has never seen you in action as a Winter Soldier before. She saw it through television, Shield files, and testimonies about deserters captured by the Avengers.

But she was never there.

The Avengers split up and fought each other, and your brother fled with Steve Rogers. She thought you were safe on the plane with them, she made sure you got on - but she didn't see you climb off.

Wanda accepted being captured, she accepted being drugged as a security measure. And throughout the confusion that was the transportation of the Avengers in custody to the Raft, she thought she was hallucinating the whole way there. The masked figure attacking the soldiers and opening the cells was a projection of the sedative in her mind.

She only knew what had really happened, had been able to remember, when you both were already in another country as fugitives from the United Nations.

You were by her side the whole time. You held her on your lap after getting rid of the straitjacket that had trapped her and lay down next to her when there was finally a secure roof over your heads.

Wanda was exhausted. She had lost the only thing she had left; her freedom. There was no longer a home, a team, a brother. She was drugged and trapped like an animal by people she considered family.

She started crying, and you woke up. You didn't say a word or ask her to stop. You just held her and let her sob into your chest until she fell asleep again, this time from exhaustion rather than through the influence of chemicals.

When what was left of the team moved on the following day, to another location to avoid suspicion as Natasha clarify it, Wanda got the impression that maybe it was you who needed her to hold you until you went to sleep now.

Bucky didn't come back, and neither of you knew what had happened to him or Steve. 

Wanda let you cry all you wanted.

But then finally, everyone who had fought for Steve was back together. Even Clint and Scott, who would probably make deals for their families, to try to be with them, and would have to leave soon. For a moment, everyone was there and you found out that your brother was going to stay in Wakanda to be free again.

It wasn't perfect, but it was a good moment. Steve got food for everyone, you had something that resembled a Christmas, or at least an end-of-year celebration.

We're alive and safe. We're together. Steve was a man of words.

Even if they were sharing a safe house that was too small for such a group. Even if half the world was after them.

The team fell asleep between sleeping bags and sofas, and you left the trailer to get some air. Wanda went after you without thinking much about it.

"It's cold, witchy." You commented as soon as she was close enough, even though you opened your arms for her to wrap hers around you.

Your back was against Nat's truck, and Wanda pressed a little closer to hide her face in your collarbone.

"Where are you going to run off to?" She questions into your skin.

You sigh, one hand caressing her back. "I don't know." You confess quietly. "I wouldn't get to Wakanda with this, but I wasn't feeling very well in there. Having a Christmas meal without him."

Wanda adjusts her face to look at you. "Bucky needs to heal first."

You nod, giving her a sad smile. "I know, but Steve told me they put him back on ice. Until they found out what they were going to do with him. Just the fact that he's there, freezing again... " You look away, sniffling softly. "It reminds me of the past, our time as Winter Soldiers. And It makes me very sad.” You explain softly before sighing. “I know there's nothing we can do to help him now, but it's all so frustrating. I just needed to get out of there for a moment."

Wanda absorbs your words for a moment until she returns to her previous position and smiles as she feels you relax and put your arms around her. 

She murmurs; "It's a shame we can't go out there. Natasha said this place has beautiful spots to visit."

You snort slightly. "Actually, we could drive somewhere further away. Far from the city." You comment. "We can watch the Aurora Borealis."

Wanda bites her lip for a moment, considering your invitation, until she adds; "Just the two of us?"

You chuckle. "Unless you want to wake up the team..."

"No, I wasn't complaining!" She clarifies quickly, and you start laughing again. 

She taps you gently on the shoulder to make you stop. "Idiot."

"Your idiot." You hit back with a smirk, and Wanda's heart stops beating for a moment. There's a pause, between exchanging intense glances as you bring your hands to her face, adjusting her hair out of the way. "Don't forget, witchy."

She swallows dryly, her voice hoarse when she speaks: "I won't." She whispers back and you smile before pressing your lips into hers.

[eldritch-thrumming]

is it casual now?, pt. one

pt. two

dumb love, i love being stupid, dream of us in a year. maybe we’d have an apartment and you’d show me off to your friends at the pier. i know, “baby, no attachment,” but we’re… knee deep in the passengers seat and you’re eating me out, is it casual now?

“but like… why not just tell him?” robin asks. they’re laying on their backs on steve’s floor, side by side, legs tangled together while a fleetwood record spins out the low sounds of stevie nicks’s voice. “you’re already banging, so what’s the point? you’re practically dating.”

“what? no.” steve replies, taking one last hit from the joint they’ve been passing back and forth before handing it back to robin so she can drop it into the ashtray near her elbow. “it’s not dating. it’s strictly sexual.”

“you’ve never in your life been strictly sexual with anyone,” robin snorts.

steve scowls. this is kind of a sore subject for him because yeah. he’s never done this casual thing before and he’s never really wanted to. he doesn’t even really want to now.

he’s silent for so long that robin’s perfectly capable of understanding exactly what he’s thinking. “oh,” she breathes out. “oh no.”

“stop, please. it was mutual.” steve doesn’t even sound convincing to his own ears.

“okay. yeah. sure.” steve hates how much she sounds like she’s trying to placate him.

“it’s really not a big deal. it’s fine. we’re having fun. i’m having fun.” steve’s embarrassed by how rehearsed he sounds.

“yeah, no, totally. for sure.”

they lay there without speaking again for a long time after that.

~*~

“god, you’re so cute, stevie, cooking me breakfast.” steve’s standing in front of the stove in his kitchen a few days later when eddie comes up behind him and wraps his arms around his waist, nuzzling into steve’s neck. steve can’t help the smile that spreads across his face.

“don’t get too used to it,” steve tells him, plating the first batch of french toast. “woke up early enough to eat before work for the first time in, like, three months.”

“well i appreciate it,” eddie says, letting steve turn in his arms. steve can’t help himself; he leans in for a kiss and eddie returns it enthusiastically.

eddie’s never spent the night like this before. usually he’s out of the house before steve wakes up in the morning. most of the time he leaves before they even have the chance to fall asleep together. steve tries not to take it too personally. eddie’s a busy guy and what they’re doing is nothing serious. eddie had been sure to make that clear the first few times they’d seen each other naked.

steve tries not to read too much into it as eddie takes the plate from his hands and pulls himself up to sit on the island countertop just across from where steve’s leaning next to the stove with his own plate. he tries not to get his hopes up but he can’t help the flutter in his chest and the butterflies in his stomach as they eat breakfast together before he has to go to work. he tries his best to ignore the pull he feels toward eddie, the way his hands itch to plant themselves on eddie’s hips and pull him in. he pushes down the disappointment that arises when eddie changes out of the sweats he’d clearly taken from steve’s dresser drawers and back into his own clothes. he ignores the tiny little pang in his chest when eddie says goodbye and leaves, even though steve has to leave for work in ten minutes anyway. he tries to ignore the little voice in his head that points out that eddie doesn’t even kiss him goodbye.

~*~

it goes on like that for a while. eddie starts spending enough nights at steve’s house that steve can’t help but become hopeful. he has his own green toothbrush sitting right next to steve’s red one on his bathroom sink. his hair has started to smell like steve’s shampoo. eddie’s stopped insisting that they’re just casual every time steve leans in for a kiss. sometimes they don’t even fuck, they just fall asleep together watching a movie, with the tv playing softly in the background.

steve’s not delusional. he knows that it’s not a relationship. but that hope is back and he’s helpless against its forces building inside him every time he says goodbye to eddie at his front door. his t-shirts have started going missing, ones with hawkins high emblazoned across the front, ones that he knows robin wouldn’t be caught dead in. eddie’s the only one who could be taking them, but steve can’t figure out why he’s being so secretive about it. he still hasn’t been able to catch him at it. but it has to mean something, right?

steve starts to let himself fantasize about what could happen if he just confessed to eddie. if he just admitted, once and for all, that he’d never wanted to do this whole friends with benefits thing that eddie’s been insisting on. he’s not totally sure that eddie would be a hundred percent receptive, but it’s only happening in his own brain, so he can have the ending he wants for now.

“jesus, dingus, what the hell is going on with you lately?” robin asks, sounding irritated as she comes to stand next to him behind the counter at family video. “i’ve been trying to get your attention for ten minutes.”

“what? sorry.” steve drags a hand across his face. “just thinking.”

“oh really,” robin snorts. “about what?”

“just…” steve sighs. “remember when we were talking a few months ago?”

robin raises her eyebrows at him.

“i mean, you know. about eddie.” his voice drops into a whisper at the end, as if eddie might be hiding behind one of the vhs displays, even though it’s a tuesday morning and the two of them are alone in the store.

“oh. yes. i remember.” robin sounds just a tiny bit apprehensive.

“well… i think something’s changed.”

“changed? how?”

“i mean, he’s started sleeping over my house a lot more. sometimes we don’t even… you know. have sex.” he whispers the last two words, looking over his shoulder. “i think he’s stealing my t-shirts.”

“okay,” robin draws out the second syllable, elongating the ‘a’ sound, making it clear that steve has to be a bit more specific.

“do you think he… i don’t know. do you think maybe he wants something more? like, maybe to date? or like, whatever.” steve runs a hand through his hair nervously. this is the first time he’s admitting he wants something more out loud.

robin considers for a long moment. “honestly, i don’t know. i’ve never made it past kissing anyone before.” steve’s shoulders slump. “but there’s only one real way to find out.”

“how?” steve grunts, even though he already knows the answer.

“you gotta talk to him, man.” steve groans. “i know, dingus. it sucks.” she reaches out to rub his back, an attempt at comfort.

it almost works.

~*~

steve thinks about it for a few days. about three weeks ago, eddie had started kissing him goodbye every time they parted ways at steve’s front door and he hasn’t missed a goodbye kiss yet. that has to mean something. it has to.

it’s a movie night—eddie’s choice—when steve finally gathers the courage to say something to him.

“can i talk to you?” steve says, sounding far more confident than he actually feels. he’s pulled his legs up under himself on the couch and turned sideways to stare at eddie’s profile.

“um, yeah,” eddie replies a bit distractedly, eyes glued to the tv screen as he reaches for the remote next to him. he pauses the film and only then does he turn to face steve. he smiles, dimples showing. “what’s up, stevie? i don’t pause the thing for just anyone.”

that makes steve feel a little less nervous. it feeds the hope in his chest. he runs a hand through his hair. “okay, well. i was thinking about, like, what we’re doing.”

“what we’re doing?” eddie tilts his head to the side just a little, looking confused.

“yeah, like. you know. you’ve said you want to keep things casual but i was thinking that maybe we could…” steve trails off, unsure of how to continue.

“we could…?” eddie prompts, but he’s starting to look a little apprehensive.

“i mean, i know you said that you don’t really do the non-casual type of thing or whatever, but i was thinking like. i don’t know, that we could, like, go on a date? maybe?” steve hates how unsure he sounds at the end, how his voice turns up at the end.

eddie just looks at him for a long moment. “i thought we were on the same page, steve.”

okay, he’s not ‘stevie’ anymore, but maybe this is just a miscommunication.

“we were,” steve responds, swallowing hard. “i mean, we are. i think.” then he corrects himself. “or, uh, thought.” he looks down at his hands for a second and takes a deep breath before speaking again. “i really like you, eddie. and i want… i don’t know what i want but i know that i like you a lot. and i don’t want to be just friends who sleep together.”

“so,” eddie speaks slowly, still looking just a bit confused, “you don’t want to sleep together anymore.” he doesn’t really say it like a question, more like he’s not really all that surprised.

“no, i mean…” steve’s feeling just a little frustrated with himself. “i like that part. that part’s, like, really good. i just… i want more than that.” he runs his hand through his hair again. “i… i guess want to be your boyfriend.”

eddie laughs then and it makes steve’s chest feel hollow. eddie must see something on steve’s face because his laugh cuts off abruptly. “sorry, man. you’re serious?” eddie sounds almost disbelieving. steve can only nod, his throat tight. he definitely does not want to cry in front of eddie right now. “oh. well. um. i don’t really…” steve’s heart drops and the little bubble of hope that had been building since that first time eddie had stayed for breakfast abruptly bursts. “i’m sorry, dude, i genuinely thought we were on the same page. i’m not—that’s just—” eddie clears his throat. “that’s just not really something i want.”

steve has nothing to say to that. he supposes that eddie had been honest from the beginning and that he was the one who hadn’t been truthful so he can’t even really be mad.

“right,” steve responds, avoiding eddie’s eyes. “sure, okay.”

“i think i’m gonna go for now. but i’ll see you around, okay, stevie?” steve’s eyes snap up to eddie’s face and eddie’s eyes are wide and panicked. he looks like a cornered deer. a part of steve can’t help but feel sorry for putting that look on eddie’s face.

“yeah, okay. see you.” steve tries to smile at him, maybe to reassure him, but eddie doesn’t even look at him as he gathers his shoes and keys before leaving.

once eddie’s gone, steve sits there for a long moment, wondering where he’d gone wrong. maybe he should have waited until a little bit later, when they were upstairs tangled up together and he could distract eddie with kisses. maybe he should have waited until breakfast, when eddie’s soft and sweet, warm from sleep. maybe he shouldn’t have said anything at all.

steve turns off the tv and goes upstairs to bed alone for the first time in a while.

there’s a part two already half written so no worries, i only write happy endings (except that one time).

[mostlymarvelsstuff]

Reader receives Wandas nudes accidentally

Word count: 780

Marvel Masterlist Wanda Masterlist How They React To Masterlist

  Today has been a really good day for Wanda. She’d nearly gotten the upper hand on Natasha for the first time while training early this morning, had gotten her favorite take out for lunch, then had been able to dress like an absolute bombshell for an undercover mission that she had finished in record timing. So it's really no surprise that she's still riding that adrenaline high even after her post mission shower. 

   Which is likely why she feels so confident upon seeing her body's reflection in the bathroom mirror. Feeling a little adventurous she decides to forgo her pajamas for now and she struts out into her bedroom. She grabs her phone off the top of her nearby dresser before settling herself on the middle of her bed. She's never done anything like this before, but she's seen enough saucy pictures online to know what to do.

   She takes one of her thighs clenched together and a couple of different angles of her breasts before she decides to take one that has her full body in the shot. She raises the phone up and angles it downward, allowing it to capture an aerial view of her kneeling on her bed. Satisfied with how it turned out she makes sure to save it before opening her messages to reply to you. She had to admit she had a huge soft spot for you, so having you check in on her after missions never failed to warm her heart and make her smile.

  After replying she tosses her phone over onto her pillow before getting up to actually put something on. What she hadn’t realized was that she never closed out of her conversation with you, and somehow this gentle toss had hit enough buttons to send her last nude to you

   In the compound's kitchen you squeeze past Sam in order to grab your container of take out from last night that you wanted to reheat. You had been glad to hear that Wanda's mission had gone well and without any problems whatsoever, and you can’t deny the feeling of giddiness that flows through you as you hear another message come through from her

   You pull out your phone and open the message only to be greeted by the shock of a lifetime. The brunette was absolutely bare in the photo and the sight proves to be enough to cause you to panic. You let out a small squeak of surprise as you simultaneously slam the refrigerator door shut and close your messages. You nervously glance over to find Sam, Tony and Natasha all looking at you already, each with an eyebrow raised in question. You nervously give them a nod in form of greeting before promptly exiting the room and making a beeline for a certain witches room. 

   You honestly had no idea if you were even meant to see what you had, for all you knew this was just another, albeit extreme, way she had chosen to tease you as you were certain she had to know by now of your feelings. There was no way you've been able to keep all your thoughts quiet. Not when Wanda was involved.  But regardless of the whys your body seemed to be moving on autopilot to go and get your desired answer, as well as berate the woman for this extreme

   “Wanda!” you shout as your knuckles tap the wood of her door

   Her door opens quickly to reveal her, only now she's dressed in her fuzzy warm pajamas instead of being naked. Which is a relief to you because you're sure you would have keeled over otherwise. You're quick to speak before she can say anything

   “I was in the kitchen Wans! You can’t just send things like that!”

   Confusion clouds her features “I can’t tell you my mission went well?”

   “Don’t play dumb” you plead, “My problem was with your nude not your endearing message”

   You watch her entire face and neck turn pink as her eyes go wide, and it’s only then that you realize this wasn’t some scheme of hers but an actual accident. Which only amuses you. Seems the universe has given you an opportunity to be the one doing the teasing for once

   “My- my nude?” she asks, barely above a whisper

   “Oh, you didn’t send it purposely.” you say with a faux pout. Her breath catches in her throat as she then watches your eyes drink her in as your tongue darts out to wet your lip, “Thats a shame”

    It’s only after you've started to walk away that Wanda's brain begins to function, and she nearly yells after you, “Wait! Y/n!”

Taglist:@wandaromamoff69 @mmmmokdok @nataliasknife @natashasilverfox @when-wolves-howl @danveration @naomi-m3ndez @sheneonromanoff @sayah13 @likefirenrain @nighttime-dreaming @just-a-torn-up-masterpiece @chaoticevilbakugo @crystalstark02 @wackymcstupid @xchaiix @iaminluvwithnat @lovelyy-moonlight @mistressofinsomnia @that-one-gay-mosquito @yomamagf @yourfavdummy @justarandomreaderxoxo @scoutlp23-blog @whoischanelle15 @lissaaaa145 @eline03 @wizardofstories @imthenatynat @marvelonmymind @fluffyblanketgecko @bitch-616 @dakotastorm  @zoomdeathknight @rayeofmoonlight @aeroae @sashawalker2 @esposadejoyhuerta @mathxa @reginassweetheart

[mrwavellswaps]

Step-Bro Switch Up! (Re-Upload)

Instead of a new story this week I’ve decided to re-upload an old favourite instead. As some of you may or may not know, the original version was completely wiped from the surface of the internet by Tumblr to the point where there wasn’t even a trace of its existence. I wasn’t even notified of this when it happened which feels like it’s own separate issue considering it was my biggest ever story but I digress. I thought that now might be the appropriate time to re-unleash this story upon the world and allow those who loved the original to enjoy it once again and for those who never got a chance to read the original to discover it for the first time. That said I’m hoping to come out with some new and fresh content very soon but in the meantime I hope you all enjoy this return of an old classic!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I found myself waking up at 6:30am in the morning which was rather unusual for me but not so much for my body. I soon realised why though as a low rumble came from my stomach. With a sigh I slid out of bed, trying not to wake the other sleeping jock beside me in the process. I didn’t even bother putting on underwear, instead walking to the kitchen buck naked.

I waltzed up to the fridge, opening it up before pulling out a carton of juice. After taking a few huge gulps I lick my lips and let out a deep belch. Next thing I’m rummaging through to see what I can make for breakfast. Had to make sure I kept this big body fed after all. Can’t let all my step-brother’s hard work go to waste. Confused? Well let me start at the beginning…

———

A few years back not long after I turned 20 my mom met a guy named Devin who she soon started dating. Pretty big guy with a bearish ex-jock physique. He was 45 at the time so a similar age to my mom and they seemed to get along great. I certainly didn’t mind having some extra dilf eye candy around the house every now and then. I soon learned however that Devin was also a single Dad with a 22 year old son which certainly peaked my interest.

When I first met him I almost couldn’t believe my eyes. He introduced himself as Sam but I was almost too hypnotised by his looks to notice. He was the perfect image of a star college jock with enormous well rounded muscles that bulged under his clothes while standing at an imposing 6’3, practically dwarfing my lean 5’8 frame. And of course he was devilishly handsome too because the hot body wasn’t already enough, even having a great full beard that I was jealous of. I even remember how I had to hide my pulsing boner after he pulled me in for a quick bro hug, his manly scent getting caught in my nostrils.

After that Sam became a frequent part of my jerk off fantasies. Could you blame me? Not only was he the epitome of masculinity but my god did he have an incredible ass. Whenever Sam had his back turned I couldn’t help but have my eyes glued to those massive globes, no doubt stretching whatever pants he was wearing. Honestly I felt truly blessed to be able to spend time around such a man.

Anyway fast forward about two years and my mom had already gotten married to Devin. It was an amazing ceremony but for half of it all I could think about was how me and Sam were now Step-Brothers. We were truly intertwined now. I didn’t think the idea of that would turn me on as much as it did. That fucking hunk, my brother.

Shortly after the wedding however, the roommate Sam had been sharing an apartment with decided to move out and live with his new partner. At first Sam had been considering downsizing to a smaller apartment but when he brought this up I knew this was my chance. I pounced on the opportunity and told him I’d been thinking of moving out for awhile and that it’d be cool to spend some more time with my new brother if he was down for that. To my excitement he actually accepted and the next thing I know I’m moving my stuff out of my moms house and into Sam’s apartment. I was surprised at how clean it all was for the most part. Then again Sam wasn’t your typical dumb jock either, he always seemed very mature and put together.

The two of us got on pretty well living together. We tried to respect each other’s space and chatted a lot as good friends. Luckily I did well to hide my excitement whenever I saw him walking around shirtless, showing off his huge hairy chest, or god forbid only a pair of tight boxer briefs. The day I first saw that was the day I nearly creamed myself on the spot. Oh and while I respected his space when he was around, whenever I was home alone I couldn’t help but give into the devil on my shoulder before rummaging through his room. I tried not to take anything but every time without fail I’d sift through his dirty laundry, pulling out whatever sweaty clothes I could find and relishing in the smell.

For about 6 months that’s how my life was. Living under the same roof as my hot step-bro while trying not to let him see my dirty secret. That is until I found a certain little spell online. Pretty much I’d been searching up some fetishy body swapping stuff online and ended up stumbling across some weird body swapping ritual. Of course I didn’t believe it but the masses of comments on the page claiming it to have worked peaked my interest.

Next thing I know I’m up in the middle of the night waiting until I was certain that Sam was asleep before sneaking into his room. It didn’t take long for me to find the pair of yellow underwear he’d had on that day, giving it a quick sniff before stuffing it in my pocket and retreating back to my room. Once there I was able to start the ritual. I placed the underwear in the middle of a circle I’d drawn on the floor surrounded by candles before chanting some magical phrases that were supposed to enchant them. I can’t tell you how stupid I felt at that moment but I continued on anyway, finishing everything I needed to say before grabbing the underwear again. At that point all I had to do was wear it.

I yanked on Sam’s ‘enchanted’ yellow briefs with the hope that my wish would come true but as I’d expected, nothing happened. With a sigh I cleaned up the mess I’d made with this ritual stuff, feeling like an idiot as I did before heading to bed. I decided to keep Sam’s oversized briefs on though because just wearing them was making me hard even if I was still myself. I remember I’d begun to jack off in them, imagining how hot it’d be to see him wearing them after I’d stained them with my cum. That is until a wave of tiredness swelled across my body and before I knew it I was fast asleep.

It seems I must’ve underestimated that ritual because overnight something truly magical took place. When I awoke I already knew something was off when I noticed my feet hanging off the edge of my bed. I sat up in confusion only to feel much heavier than normal while looking down the bed to see a pair of much larger feet. Next thing I yank off my bed sheets only to find a massive, hairy, muscular body that certainly wasn’t my own.

Right away I was running my hands along the ridges of my abs before grasping the heft of my giant new pecs, loving all the fur as I was previously rather hairless. Jumping out of bed I was quick to discover that my lower body was just as hairy and impressive with huge quads, and impressive calves. And then it started to hit me. I didn’t realise it at first as I’d never seen it from this angle but these giant legs, these bulging arms, these bulbous pecs… they all seemed exactly like Sam’s! I was even still wearing his briefs which now clung tightly to my form as I didn’t fail to notice the familiar bulge in the front. Only… it was my bulge!

At that moment I knew what must’ve happened but my rational mind pleaded that it was impossible. Still I burst out of my room and made a beeline for the bathroom and what I saw in the mirror made me want to cheer, shout and most of all cream my new underwear. I saw none other than the sexy bearded face of my step-brother staring back in disbelief.

As you can imagine I spent the next 20 or so minutes inspecting every inch of my new muscle bound body. I did all sorts of poses to show off my physique in every way, pulled different kinds of weird faces in the mirror, relished in rubbing my hands through the full beard I was never able to grow before. Having the body I’d been lusting over for these past years at my disposal felt like some kind of lucid wet dream. But it was real! From my brother’s handsome face, to his giant muscle ass, to even his fat cock! All mine!

Soon enough I’d yanked off the underwear and started pumping my dick in ecstasy, loving how my hand only just fit the whole way around. Waves of pleasure cascading across my new body as I used my free hand to grope at my hairy pecs, the deep groans I let out only making me hornier. Before I could shoot my new seed however, I heard a scream come from what I can only guess was Sam’s room. Up until now I hadn’t even thought about the real him but judging by that scream I had only one guess as to what’d happened.

Instead of slipping the boxer briefs back on I decided to grab a towel instead and wrap it around my waist. I didn’t want him to think something was up to see me already wearing his clothes after all. With that I turned to the mirror one last time, scanning my face and upper body again with wonder. I still couldn’t get over it.

Upon entering Sam’s room I was somewhat surprised to see an exact copy of myself stood freaking out at his body. I should’ve been expecting it but it was still extremely weird nonetheless. Then, as he saw me stood in the doorway, he went silent. Naturally he was in shock for a good moment or two but as soon as it passed he began shouting a bunch obscenities at me. Demanding who the fuck I was and how I looked like him. He even tried to punch me which I’ll be honest wasn’t all that scary considering I was now twice his size.

Right then I knew I had a few ways I could go about this. I could admit that I caused this to happen, I could tell him that I had no clue how any of it happened, or even pretend to be completely oblivious and act as if I was really Sam. The horny devil on my shoulder told me to rub it in his face that I now had his irresistible jock body and that he was stuck with my unathletic one but I couldn’t. Sure we weren’t super close or anything but he was always friendly towards me and was never a dickhead so I decided to take it easy on him.

I pretended to be just as confused as he was, saying who I really was but not having any idea how this happened. I think I was pretty convincing. We ended up sitting in his room and discussing it for what felt like hours, going over everything that happened last night as Sam tried to comprehend the situation. Of course he only went on and on about finding a way to fix this and I had to pretend as if I cared, trying not to get distracted by my own body. In fact there were multiple points where I had to keep hiding the tent starting to grow under my towel because of how hot it was to look down and see a shelf of muscle sitting on my chest.

Eventually I was able to convince him that we weren’t going to figure this out any time soon so we had to start thinking about how we were going to live each overs lives. As you can imagine he wasn’t all that fond of this idea, protesting it at first but eventually came to see reason. I suggested we should start discussing all the important details we’d need to know but before that I wanted to get some actual clothes on. I had to try not to grin while telling him to get out of my room while I changed. Though I couldn’t help dropping the towel just before he left and showing off the meaty cock and impressive ass he used to have. I caught him glancing back with a look of envy, the very same look I used to give.

Of course getting dressed in Sam’s clothes was an erotic experience in itself. All of these large shirts, pants, briefs and socks that would’ve swamped my former body now fitting me perfectly. I must’ve spent at least 15 minutes or so just trying on different clothes while jerking my cock a little in between until I heard a knock at the door and my former voice asking what the hell was taking so long. With a sigh I tucked my new toy away and waltzed out in what I was currently wearing. A pair of well fitting black shorts and a large pair of black and white socks. I didn’t bother grabbing a shirt since I just couldn’t help but show off this bod. Could you blame me?

When he asked what I’d been doing I simply said I was trying on clothes. He knew there was more to it than that but decided he didn’t really wanna know. Instead we opted to both take a seat in the living room and start discussing things. I told him everything he needed to know about my retail job, which wasn’t a whole lot to be honest, as well as my friend group and what my daily routine was like. Afterwards Sam begrudgingly did the same for me, telling me all about his part time job as a fitness instructor at the local gym and that if we were stuck like this then I’m gonna need to learn how all gym equipment works and fast. He also gave me some inside info on his own friend group as well as walking me through what his football practice is like with the team. Part of me was worried hearing all this as I was beginning to wonder if I could really pull off being Sam but at the same time I was excited beyond belief to get into these social situations and convince people of the new me.

Thankfully it was Sunday so neither of us had a whole lot going on that day which gave us plenty of time to think and adjust without stressing. I spent most of it half naked and I loved catching glimpses of Sam glancing at his former body as I showed it off, even getting a little cocky by flexing every now and then which he didn’t appreciate all that much. Honestly I was surprised at how hungry I was as well and just how much I was able to eat. I mean I guess it made sense since a body this big needs a lot of fuel. Sam helped me a little with my meals though, making sure there was a bunch of protein and healthy calories to make sure I was feeding his body correctly. Later that day he also got me to head out for some cardio which I wasn’t too thrilled about at first but I actually kinda enjoyed it once I got running. I especially enjoyed my new sweaty scent that produced during it, not being able to help sniffing my pits when I got back. Of course Sam told me to go get a shower but before I did I couldn’t help swiftly grabbing him and shoving his face into my musky pits, laughing as he squirmed for a moment before letting him go. I apologised after through my laughter though I couldn’t help but smirk subtly as despite his face looking disgusted, the slight bulge in his pants told another story.

The next day however was when the real challenge started. After breakfast Sam gave me a list of what exercises to do at the gym. I’ll be honest I didn’t know half of them and had to look them up on the way. That walk to the gym however was the first time I noticed the difference in my interactions. Before people wouldn’t pay much mind to me but now as I passed people on the street I’d get some smiling and glancing at me, some giving me an envious once over, others even saying hi to me in a bit of a flirty way. Mostly from girls which even though I was gay I still enjoyed the flattery. Once I was at the gym though, I was in the zone. It’s weird but it was like muscle memory took over. I performed each and every exercise perfectly while loving the pump I was getting. Once again I was having to hide my boner at many points since I couldn’t help but get off to how fucking strong I was now. It did and still does feel absolutely incredible!

Later that day I headed to Sam’s usual football practice with a bunch of his jock friends. Initially I was worried I wouldn’t fit in but I somehow found myself easily slotting into the jockbro mindset and was soon laughing and joking with the boys. It was the same when we started playing, right away it was like my body just moved on its own, knowing exactly what to do and how to play. It was then that I realised I must’ve somehow absorbed a lot of Sam’s skill, know-how and personality when I took his form and I was gradually unlocking it all by putting myself in these situations. Although I don’t think I was playing as well as Sam usually does, not because of a lack of skill but because I was constantly distracted watching all those jock butt’s and bulges squeezed into those football uniforms. Surely at least one of them had to be gay right?

After getting home I found Sam sat on his laptop looking up all sorts of body swapping theory stuff. Of course most of it was fake but he was clearly desperate to get his body back. Sure there might be an off chance he could find the site I used but that a one way transfer according to the spell. Knowing this I told him to not get his hopes up and to just try and make use of the hands we’ve been dealt. As you can imagine he didn’t take that very well at the time.

From then onwards though, I’d say things were pretty easy. I easily convinced my new dad and former mom, now step-mom that I was their good ol hairy jock of a son. I was able to pull off being a fitness instructor with relative ease after going around the gym and using each piece of the equipment to trigger the memories of how to use it properly. I’d convinced all of Sam’s friends inside and outside of the football team that I was him. I’ll say that it took me awhile to fully get used to hearing my new name but whenever I did it was like music to my ears.

I’ve gotta say though, living with the former Sam was more fun than I thought it’d be. I figured it would’ve been weird initially after the switch and that we’d have to go our separate ways but even after just over a week of being Sam I was having so much fun messing with him. For example I almost never wore a shirt around the house, always showing of my huge hairy pecs and whenever I’d catching him staring I’d give a little pec bounce until he looked away in annoyance. I’d frequently pull him in for ‘brohugs’ where I’d either squish him against my chest or trap him under one of my pits until I saw him getting a semi. He’d alway deny having one though which is why I decided to set up a fun little experiment.

Turns out that Ian, one of the other jocks on the football team, was in-fact gay. Wasn’t hard to decipher after noticing his frequent glances at my ass in locker room, not that I can blame him, and how much he blushed when I gave his jock butt a slap after practice. Next thing you know we’re making out under the locker room showers while groping up each overs bodies. It was insane since before I would’ve considered Ian to be light years out of my league but now I had him on his knees with his lips wrapped around my shaft to which I then soon returned the favour. It was here that I got my experiment idea.

Yesterday after practice, I pulled Ian aside and asked him to come back to my place. He was quick to agree and before you know it we were stumbling into mine and Sam’s shared apartment. My former body jumped up off the couch and asked what Ian was doing here. ‘To have some fun’ I believe my response was being making out with Ian in front of him and dragging the other jock back towards Sam’s-well my bedroom. As Ian and I stumbled onto the bed, kissing along each overs bodies as we slowly undressed, I made sure to leave the door open just a crack.

One thing lead to another and before long Ian had his face buried into a pillow as I buried my cock in his ass and I made no attempt to be subtle about, groaning and grunting and my balls smacked against that supple butt. Throughout our amazing fuck session I made sure to keep glancing back at the door and finally I caught exactly what I was waiting for. I saw none other than Sam peeking through the crack in the door and lightly tugging at my former dick. That was all the confirmation I needed that my little bro was just as much of a homo as I was no matter how much he wanted to deny it.

———

And that more or less brings us up to the present, waking up early in the morning with Ian fast asleep beside me and being called into the kitchen by my growling stomach. As I searched through the fridge to see what else I could find to satisfy my hunger, I heard a cough coming from behind. Whipping my head around I saw none other than Sam with a judgmental look on his face.

“Don’t gimme that look, you’ve seen all this before.” I say, shaking my hairy ass a little before flexing. Sam rolled his eyes. “No no no don’t act like you don’t love seeing me show off your body, I saw you peeking in on me and Ian last night.”

Sam’s face went bright red. “W-w-what? N-no I didn’t!”

Immediately I shushed him, not wanting to wake Ian before stepping closer. “Oh come on don’t lie, I know you jacked off to it. So what was your favourite bit? The part when you got to see me using your body to pound into another buff dude and fill his ass with your cum? Or the part where you watched Ian totally dominate me afterwards and go to town on your former hairy bubble ass?” By this point Sam was completely speechless knowing that he’d been caught.

With that I lifted up an arm, exposing one of my pits to him but this time I didn’t shove him in it. “Go on, you know you want to. You can try and hide it all you want but you love seeing me show off your body, you love watching me adopt all your little habits, you love watching me slip perfectly into you jocky lifestyle. Just embrace it lil’ bro” He stares at me then at my pit. I could see it in his eyes. Pure lust. And then just as I’d hoped, he gave in to it. I couldn’t help but grin ear to ear as he voluntarily presses his nose into my pit, huffing my musk like a drug. I was even more surprised when he pulled away and immediately dropped to his knees, drooling at the sight of his former cock.

“C…can I suck it?” He asked while grasping it gently in his hand.

“Only if you agree to only address me as Sam from now on, even when we’re alone.” I state looking down at his hungry eyes. He nods in compliance and with that I put a hand on the back of his head and press him down onto my dick, letting him slobber all over it. “But don’t get too used to this. I’m planning on making Ian my boyfriend in the future and I wanna be faithful ya know. So enjoy it while it lasts.”

With that everything has finally fallen into place. The old Sam has finally accepted our new roles, I’ve assumed my new identity perfectly and I might even have a hot new boyfriend soon. My life couldn’t be anymore perfect right now…

[spencereidluver]

D is for Diana

summary: you overhear spencer calling his mother and telling her about you. how hes finally found someone like him and who can understand him

word count: 675

warnings: none, just fluff and spencer crushing

It was a normal Monday morning. The sounds of files rustling and pens against paper filled the room as people filled out their weekly paperwork. The only thing off was the slow speed the certified genius across from you was working. There was something on his mind, but from the look on his face, you could tell he wasn’t in the mood to share.

“Hey Spence, I’m gonna go make some coffee in a little bit, do you want some?” You asked, trying to find a way of cheering him up without trying to pry at him. 

“I’m good, thank you though.” He said without so much as looking up from his desk.

You let him work for a little longer, before you finally let it get the best of you, and you just had to ask him. “Okay, Spencer,” you said, finally getting him to look up at you for the first time this morning. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he responded. “I’m just waiting on a phone call from my mom.”

That made sense. Spencer always got nervous when his mother was brought up. His phone rang moments later, seemingly right on cue. “I’m gonna take this in the conference room, I’ll be back.” 

Spencer opened his phone as he stood up, greeting his mother with a warm “hello.” He quickly ran up the stairs, nearly hitting himself with the conference room door as he entered. You giggled to yourself before getting up and making your way to the kitchen to make the coffee you’d thought about earlier.

_____

With a freshly made cup of coffee in your hand, you couldn’t help but follow your unconscious lead to the conference room, leaning against the door to make sure Spencer’s conversation with his mom was going well. You weren’t trying to be weird or creepy, you just were trying to look out for your friend. You knew sometimes his mom said things that hurt him, mostly without realizing it.

As you reached the conference, you heard the squeaky giggle you’ve heard so many times come from behind the door. You almost left it at that, but curiosity got the best of you as you leaned your ear against the wooden door.

“No, mom. She’s perfect,” you heard Spencer say. “Everything about her is perfect.”

There was a pause, Diana was talking. You wondered who he was talking about. Spencer hadn’t talked to you about a special lady before. Maybe you’d stick around a little longer.

Spencer began to speak again. “No, she is the nicest person I’ve ever met. She’s gorgeous too, mom… No, I haven't asked her out… No, no she doesn’t have a boyfriend… I just don’t want to ruin our friendship. And I don’t want to make work awkward if she says no.”

Work? The girl he liked was at work? 

“I can’t just ignore her if she says no mom. Our desks are right across from each other. I’d have to face her every day.”

Oh my god. He was talking about you. Your face turned a shade of red so dark it might be classified as maroon. Your stomach had so many butterflies it felt like it was migration season. 

You heard Spencer begin to tell his mom he’d have to be going soon, and you decided you’d better hurry back to your desk so he didn’t know you were listening. He’d die if he knew, you thought.

You thought for a second, before returning to the kitchen and pouring another cup of coffee in Spencer’s favorite mug. You knew he’d said no, but you also knew, especially now, how much it’d mean to him if he came back to a warm cup of coffee on his desk. You add 5 sugar packets to the small mug, just how he liked it. 

You returned to your desk, sitting your mug on your desk and Spencer’s on his. You grabbed a sticky note and a pen and wrote: "For Spence <3,”before sticking it to the mug and returning to your seat.

next chapter: E is for Even Guys Like Me?

a/n: i'm so glad that this group of stories has been so well received :) i've worked so hard on them, and am trying my best to get ahead so i can release new parts at least every other day. i love reading all the comments you guys have left too... thank you all for the support. i'm so proud of the next chapter, it's definantly my favorite one in the series so far. it's pretty long, but in my own opinion, it's worth it. the chapters are going to start getting more relationship centered, starting next chapter!

taglist: @universallyblizzardlove @ms-ks-world @justlivinginadaydream @dij-ology

[steventhusiast]

modern au where eddie and robin are roommates and steve is italian <3

-

eddie has always known that his roommate robin is in the US for college, but grew up in and is from italy. sure, sometimes he forgets, because she somehow has a near-perfect american accent and also speaks two other languages, but he’s always known.

and for the past year and a bit, he’s known how much robin wants her best friend stevie to come visit. she talks about them all the time, and ever since she and eddie moved out of the dorms and into an apartment together for their next year of university a month ago, he’s known stevie is going to come and visit.

he just kind of forgot the exact day stevie would be arriving.

so when he, clad in nothing but his garfield pyjama pants and a metallica t-shirt that’s falling apart, walks into the kitchen one morning and sees someone he doesn’t know at the kitchen counter fiddling with their instant coffee machine, he almost shits himself.

luckily, he doesn’t, because he remembers in that split second that stevie was due to arrive last night. but he still flinches pretty hard at the fright and grabs for the nearest grabbable thing, which turns out to be the doorframe. somehow, he makes a noise loud enough to get the mystery person’s attention, and they turn around.

holy shit. eddie did not know stevie is hot. or that stevie’s actually a guy. he kind of just assumed, with the nickname and all? but the man standing there looks like he could’ve been carved by the gods eddie doesn’t believe in, and- eddie realises he’s been staring at the guy for a few seconds now, and decides to talk like a normal human being. he first adjusts his position so he’s no longer holding onto the archway of the kitchen for support, and smiles at the guy.

“hi, you must be stevie?” he offers, and stevie takes a few seconds to process his words before nodding with a smile.

“my name is steve. robbie just is… hm, silly?”

eddie blinks a couple times, because steve has an accent. a thick one. he should’ve expected that, because- hello? they’re both literally from italy. but it catches him off guard, and adds to steve’s hot factor. why didn’t robin warn him about this.

“yeah, robin is very silly.” he agrees with a chuckle, and then realises steve might not know him, “i’m eddie. robin’s roommate. you probably knew that already though, so now i probably look like an idiot. well- more of an idiot than i already do in these clothes…”

he lets his words trail off as he realises steve is frowning at him in subtle confusion. he’s picked up robin’s rambling-when-nervous habit over their friendship, and hot guys tend to make him pretty nervous. but then he realises maybe steve isn’t as fluent in english as robin is, and even if he is eddie’s a fast talker that doesn’t always pronounce things fully.

“i am sorry,” steve looks embarrassed, “my english is not as good as robin.”

eddie feels so guilty at the pink that’s made itself known on steve’s cheeks, and shakes his head immediately.

“no! you don’t need to be sorry. i just talk a lot when i’m nervous.” he confesses. why did he say that? now steve knows he’s nervous. or does he? maybe he didn’t catch his full sentence.

steve raises one eyebrow at eddie though, and one side of his mouth quirks up into a smile as he turns around to keep trying to make himself a cup of coffee.

“i am making you nervous? why?” steve asks, his back still turned. now eddie’s the one with red cheeks. dammit.

“it’s because eddie here thinks you’re hot, stevie.”

eddie’s flinch at robin’s magical appearance behind him is somehow more spectacular than earlier, and he clutches dramatically at his heart and spins around to glare at robin.

“robin! what the fuck, man!” he yelps when he realises what she’s said. but robin isn’t listening, she’s too busy speaking to steve in italian about who knows what.

probably about how she knows all eddie’s tells for when he finds a guy attractive and how she knows eddie’s type and steve checks every single box. or, eddie squints at the pair as robin tsks at steve and takes over manning the coffee machine, maybe robin’s just telling steve how to make a coffee with the machine?

“you think i am…” steve starts as he spins around to look at eddie, and seems to be searching for a word for a few moments, “attractive?”

eddie’s eyes widen, and then he sighs and fixes a glare on robin. robin just shrugs and makes a very insincere ‘oopsie’ expression, and eddie is about to start denying like his life depends on it, but he looks back at steve.

and steve has that blush back on his face, and a tiny smile, and he’s looking eddie up and down even in his ridiculous outfit.

“um, yes.” eddie practically squeaks, not used to having someone’s eyes on him like this.

steve says something to robin in italian that sounds like it ends with a question mark, and robin rolls her eyes.

“steve wants me to translate a pick up line he wants to use on you, but i literally refuse to do that. google translate is free.”

and with that, she leaves the kitchen.