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bbyobbyo · 4 days

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Remembering all your boyfriend's drunk habits? That's the easy part. But taking care of him? Well, he makes that part easy too.

content: fluff, established relationship, drunk!(and then hungover!)chan, mentions of food, so much domesticity, they're literally so in love with each other it's disgusting

wc: 1.2k

note: still trying to figure out my writing style and doing some experimenting with povs and such 😭 this one was a horribly self indulgent one tho...food is my love language and when it was revealed that dino only eats ramen when hes hungover i couldnt help myself lol. i really just take any tidbit of info these men divulge and run with it into delululand huh. anyways please enjoy and as always comments and feedback are appreciated 🥺

You knew Chan liked to drink. It wasn't an actual problem, but it happened often enough that you had come to expect him to come back to your shared apartment after a night out stumbling and slurring his words.

Not that your boyfriend was the dark brooding serious type, but you find the change from his usually composed and witty self to someone who could erupt into a mess of giggles and burst into song and obnoxious yelling at any moment quite jarring. But you couldn't say you hated it either.

No, drunk Chan was different. Drunk Chan was straightforward, every single emotion flashing onto his face like a billboard. The Chan that normally would throw a quip back when teased would suddenly turn into a whiny child with a yapping problem.

Your sober Chan was careful, he was always fearful of letting you know if there was anything bothering him (much to your dismay). Even when he hits a breaking point, you would never catch it on his mannerisms. Instead he opted to deal with his emotions himself, or occasionally in the form of a passive aggressive text laced with smiley faces to whoever scorned him.

Where sober Chan could be quite shy with his affections toward you in public, drunk Chan would cling to your body like a koala to a tree, protesting anytime you wanted to brush him off for some air.

But you loved him, drunk or sober. You loved that he could let loose sometimes and truly let his inner self be free, knowing that he was in good company and that he would be accepted no matter what, inside and out. And you took it upon yourself to take care of him in all his states.

And that's how you ended up at 1am with a grown man leaning on your shoulder as you help him take his shoes off in the doorway of his own damn apartment.

"Buuuut baaabe...!" He whined into your ear as he manages to fling off the remaining shoe from his foot. "I wanna eat chicken nuggiessss."

Your smile spread uncontrollably across your face and you maneuver around him to take off his jacket next. "I would make you chicken nuggies, but it's 1am and you hate eating late at night."

There's silence for a moment as your intoxicated boyfriend seems to ponder your words. You take advantage of his stillness to slip the jacket off his sleeves and guide him to the bedroom.

You gently shush him with your finger, "If I'm always right, then you'll listen to me when I tell you to go get washed up right, big guy?" You take the opportunity to give him a small peck on his pouty lips as you throw a fresh pair of boxers onto his lap. He only smiles in response and begins his lazy waddle to the bathroom only to emerge minutes later, crawling into the sheets and enveloping your body with his own and knocking out.

"Oh no, you're right," he finally responds as he plops onto your bed, his lips pressed into a pout you can only describe as cute. "What would I do without you babe? You're always right, you know me better than I do sometimes and I really love that about you and ya'kno..."

To no one's surprise, you wake up before Chan. The intensity of the light that filters through your bedroom window tells you it's already quite late in the morning. But that's alright, you cleared your schedule for one thing and for one thing only.

You take a moment to soak in his soft features, bathing in the sunlight that leaks through the curtains. Everything from the curve of his eyelashes to his sharp jawline is perfect, just as the day you saw him. You don't get to see him like this often, as he's always been a busybody for as long as you knew him, but you think that this might be one of your favorite views in the world.

You scoot out of the bed as quietly as possible, trying not to disturb the soft rise and falls of your boyfriend's bare chest as he slumbers, but not before pressing a light kiss to his forehead. His nose scrunches up momentarily before settling again as you laugh, leaving for the kitchen satisfied that the love of your life was getting the rest he deserved. Your morning routine goes smoothly and soon enough you hear the sound of sheets shuffling, signaling the real start to your day.

You're by his side in a record amount of time, sitting on the edge of your shared bed while sliding a glass of water and a painkiller onto his nightstand. Amongst a tangle of sheets, your boyfriend lays still, eyes not quite open yet. "Good morning, handsome" you whisper softly, seeing how a smile immediately spreads across his face.

"My head is actually killing me. Sorry if I'm a zombie today, I just wanna eat some r-"

"Ramen?" you finish for him. There's nothing but love and adoration behind your eyes as you softly comb through his messy bedhead with your fingers. "I know baby, I already have some water boiling on the stove. Drink the water and take the painkillers, it'll be ready by the time you come out."

"God, have I told you I love you? Because I don't do it nearly enough." He groans out in his raspy morning voice. You just laugh and press a swift kiss to his forehead, doing good on your promise as you walk back out to the kitchen.

Before long, you hear the heavy footsteps of a sleepy man make its way into the room. They stop right as they approach you and you feel strong arms wrap around your waist as you add the finishing garnishes to the bowl of noodles you just made. "Smells so nice" Chan murmurs, face buried in the crook of your neck.

"What, me or the ramen?" you tease back, gently shaking him off of you as you place the bowl on the table. "Or... these?" You pull the handle of the air fryer sitting next to the stove to reveal several golden brown dinosaur shaped chicken nuggets.

The scene before you is as mundane as can be: a Saturday morning spent with your extremely hungover boyfriend barely awake in nothing but his boxers slurping instant noodles on the kitchen counter.

Chan's eyes light up. "Oh my god, you remembered?!" A toothy smile permanently stuck on his face as you plated the nuggets to join his bowl of ramen. "Of course, how could I forget my boyfriend whining for nuggieesssss last night?" He fakes an offended scoff but relents as he finally digs in.

But to you it's anything but mundane, cherishing these little moments that seem few and far between as both of your schedules get busier and busier.

It's not the first time you've heard him say this exact sentence, and it probably won't be the last. But one thing you knew for certain as you stare into the most loving eyes you've ever seen is that you were always the lucky one.

"How did I get this lucky to have you in my life?" he suddenly remarks in between mouthfuls.

#seventeen x reader #dino x reader #lee chan x reader #seventeen imagines #dino fluff #seventeen fanfic #seventeen fluff

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cybercl0ne · 8 months

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Mine. // Stalker Shigaraki x f!Reader // Part: Sequel

Summary: Shigaraki has been stalking you for a while now, getting confident enough to get close to you.

Tw: 18+,stalking, non-con somnophilia

You never questioned anything weird that happened in your life. Anytime something bad happened you decided it was something bound to happen and there’s nothing you can do about it. So when you found a weird and unexplainable stain on your underwear you shrugged it off and went to bed, deciding it was probably something you had dropped on it and forgot to clean it. Tonight would be no different, you were the same you always had been. Dangerously Unaware.

As you laid your head down and fell into a sleep that Shigaraki was sure you weren’t gonna wake up from he pounced into your room, his lusting eyes sizing you up and down as the adrenaline rushed through his body. “My sweet, sweet love we’re finally going to be together.” His eyes laid on your heaving form, watching as you squirmed to face him unintentionally. The thought that you “consciously” faced him made his heart flutter. He knew he needed to satiate himself and stroking his cock over you sounded tempting.

he debated with himself, deciding that it’d be quick. He pulled his already hard cock out of his pants, his cock leaping for joy at the sight of you, unaware of his presence. “Your so fucking beautiful love~ I just want to wrap myself in your body and make you mine~” he whispered to you as his thrusts and pumps became faster and sloppier. As he felt himself drawing near his release he made sure to not drop cum on you, stifling his moans into his black hoodie as he came into his tissue.

After a few moments of him calming himself down he noticed how his cock stayed hard. He felt it throb with anticipation, wanting no. Needing to feel inside you.

As his cock twitched over you, his mind grew hazy as he gently lifted the blanket off of your sleeping form. He knew at this point that this was a new low even for him and debated holding it off until he could consciously have you in his arms but his cock was leaking and begging for you. “You don’t mind, do you sweetheart? I know you’re a virgin but you’d want me to pop your cherry wouldn’t you?” He asks, not really expecting an answer, as he groped your chest. You wriggle in your sleep, fighting back waking up as he flinched, deciding that he’d have you when you were completely awake, wanting the moment to be as special for you as it is for him. With that he kissed your forehead, taking his leave and fading into the night.

————————————

The next morning you wake up groggy and tired, trying to adjust the way your bra was somehow over your breast. As you shrugged it off you got out of your dingy pajamas clothes to change into dingy work clothes. You groaned and heaved as you flung yourself to the city transport train, counting down the minutes the train would be late this time. “I really need to get a new way to work.” You groaned to yourself, tiredly flinging yourself onto the train. As you took your seat you noticed the same people you usually did. The angsty metal head teen that always sat by the mysterious window with their headphones blasting a tad too loud, as you could sometimes depict what song they were listening today. And the coffee man, the guy who always came onto the train with his steamy hot coffee from somewhere local get it does no effect as you always catch him nodding off anyway.

You beamed at the motivation to make today worth living as you sat settled in your seat, ignoring the out of place character that was Shigaraki. how would you notice him, a hoodie that screams “killer stalker”, a constant need to hide his face, calling for attention, and his weird choice of seating weirdly next to you as there were many other places to sit. Every red flag about that man went obliviously unnoticed as you happily offered the seat next to you, with a smile on your face.

“Thanks.” The one worded man said as he found himself being unable to speak, Shigaraki’s first big move after sneaking into your house. He knew he had seen you around, followed you, and some… but he had never actually gained the courage to talk to you, let alone get so close to you while you were awake.

The rest of the ride was in silence as you checked glances at the questionable neighbor that you caught eyeing you more than a couple of times, you subtly checked to make sure you weren’t getting the wrong idea and had a spot of food on your face or something but found nothing.

As the train rolled to a screeching stop all the flooding passengers fled to where they needed to be, including you. You departed from the train, making your long walk to work.

————————————

You sighed a breath of relief as the shift being over dawned closer and closer. You wiped down the last table before closing and gathering your stuff to leave.

Normally when walking home you knew you felt a sense of unease, but you always played it as paranoia, or a natural sense of human overthinking. As you ignored your settling gut on the instinct you find yourself walking down the dimly lit street to the train station, finding a sort of relief when it was in view. Just as you were about to reach the bright and populated station a hand tapped your shoulder.

Spooked you flashed around, your senses on alert. “Sorry didn’t mean to sneak up on you, I just recognized you from the train station earlier.” The tall, lanky, suspicious man said. You didn’t have to try hard to remember who he was, counting you had let him sit right next to you.

“oh yes, you walking to the station to?” You asked, trying to calm your nerves enough to keep conversation. For some reason you found yourself uncomfortable and confused. “Nobody lives down this street… let alone come down here. The nearest store/ restaurant was back almost a half mile away and we were closed….”

you tried to think rational, fighting with your mind as you didn’t want to make and jump to conclusions so easily.

“Where are you coming from on such an uneventful night?” You ask, keeping up a smile. The man shivered as he collected his thoughts. “Just thought a nice walk before heading home.” He said, looking back at the train station. You nodded as you looked back to the train that you counted was bound to pull up in a few minutes.

“Should we walk to the station together then?” You suggested, mentally slapping your face as you made a mistake, you only wanted to leave the awkward and weird conversation, not invite it on a long and possibly more weird conversation.

The man happily nodded, both of you moving in a pace too slow to catch a train. Shigaraki knew this, asking you questions for you to slow and think about as he stalled for more time. He tried desperately to hide his hard dick as it shifted at the sight of you, your natural smell of sweets and the way you were so cutely unaware. As you reached the train station you had concluded it to be too late. You sighed in agitation before glancing to find people. No one. Shigaraki would jump up and down for joy if he weren’t trying to blow his cover right now but he holds it, taking in your precious thinking state. “You know I could drive you home if you wanted.” He suggested. He looked at your face and waited for a response as you contemplated.

You knew the pros and cons of traveling with a complete stranger, let alone one as weird and strange as him but you saw that the next train wasn’t until dawn and if this man was willing to help then you’d be inclined to take it, flipping a mental coin in your head, you landed on tails, nodding and following him to his car as he led you.

The drive was quiet, you observed your surroundings at all times, making sure to make sure he takes the right turns and swirls down streets to the train station, as you gripped your phone tight. You didn’t trust anyone enough to do this but desperate as you were, you made due. As you rounded a streetlight you blanked thinking. “Why would he take the train if he has a car?…” you glanced over at the man mortified , as he was now smiling.

“you caught me darling~” he chuckled. Before you could protest he stuck you with a quick needle, making you dizzy as you fell unconscious.

I guess you should’ve went with heads.

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aleksa-sims · 7 months

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RL Simself Story ( 18+)

I was at N.'s. He told me what was going on with that girl Stephanie, his (ex-) fiancée. However, I was alone that morning. Nico had a match. I was still in bed until the doorbell rang. I wondered who that was? I didn’t open the door. This is not my place. I just went to the window and saw a pretty, young woman looking in my direction. I knew it was her!😓💔 She looked up at the windows to me a second time, before she got in her car and left. Maybe she saw me?

N.’s dog came up to me in the bedroom after it rang. I think he thought I was scared? I told him, I'm fine, just a bit sad. He always knew when I wasn’t well. Atm I was sure that Nico’s dog remembered me.🧡 I hugged him & said, "Let’s go for a walk together like we used to.".. I went to a pharmacy to buy a pregnancy test. I didn’t want to wait anymore and I have to tell Nico!

A few hours later, N. came home. I heard he wasn’t alone, so I went downstairs to see what was going on?

Carefully I hid behind the curtains, to watch who those 2 guys were, who came with him.

Nico: Yo, cut the shit! I've got someone here, you get me? Why did you two morons even come up with me?

Martin: Well, I gotta piss, man.

Nico: Then go and get outta here!... And you, dude? What you doing there?

Damian: Just check myself out 😏. ..What's the hurry? Like... you wanna get rid of us.

Okay, Damian & Martin, 2 of his team mates. I really didn’t feel like awkward small talk. That one Christmas party 2 years ago was enough for me! Just saying Damian's stupid twin sister. 😡 Anyway. That guy Martin came back from the bathroom. He wanted to know who I was, while Damian was still busy admiring himself in the mirror. 🤦‍♀️😒

Martin: Well, I'm done! ... But-... c'mon, who's your new... mistress?

Nico: Mistress? I’m not having a fling, and I didn’t cheat.

Martin: You kept texting that girl in Italy. You didn’t give a shit about Stephanie. That’s cheating too, dude.

Nico: The fuck-...

Damian (to M.): Can't you keep your fucking trap shut?... Sorry, N.! I told him.

Martin: That wasn’t an insult or anything. I just think it's a bit..... blatantly & rash to dump your girl just for a fuck.

Nico: What makes you think it’s just a fuck for me?

Martin: It's that kind of vibe I got. The way you talked about her earlier, you know?

Damian: He’s right! Why all that secrecy? Just say who she is!

Nico: I wouldn’t have let you into my place, if I hid her!! But yea, I admit... I didn’t expect this to happen. I don't wanna hurt my gir-... Stephanie! I really struggled to end it with her. I thought it would be easier but seeing her so.... fucked up & sad also got me down. It hurt me too, okay! I love her.

Damian: Then.... get her back, man.

Nico: Yea.... I-.. I can't!.. I simply can't! She.... can’t give me what I want. 😕

Martin: Stop thinking with your dick and get your girl back!

Damian: That chick must be damn hot. Tell us who she is, dude.

Nico: You know her anyway! 🤷‍♀️So cut the shit and fuck off.

Damian: Yo, don't tell me you’re screwing my sister. 🤣

Nico: Your sister?... I'm not that desperate. 😄

Damian: Shit, I think she overheard us.

Martin (to D.): Let's head out, man.

Damian: You, started that ball rolling and now you wanna fuck off?

Nico (to me): Babe? Come to us, you don’t have to hide.

Damian: Damn, that's your..... ex....

Damian: Heyyy! Sorry Aleksa, I didn’t know it was you. You want a hug? 😬

Me: Like our last encounter? 🤨

Damian: But you’re not gonna start crying again, huh?

Me: That's kind of your thing, right? Make girls cry and hug them.

Damian: You know, I hate making girls cry.

Me: You look so much like... someone.... I know. 😔 Almost creepy. I didn’t notice it before because ...yea, I didn’t meet and know him yet then.

I was speechless when Damian stood in front of me. He and Daniel look totally alike. Now that I missed Daniel’s face so much, I noticed it. However, atm I had other worries in my head. Nico and his Stephanie! Yesterday Nico told me about her issues. And he....asked me for forgiveness. He couldn’t let her down. Her family was away for a few days and she threatened Nico that she would hurt herself. Which she allegedly did and tried in the past. So he allowed her to stay with him until her parents came back. He was afraid to leave her alone. I was totally disappointed and mad. I told him, that if she comes back here to him, I’m gonna end this with us!!! She will probably sleep with him or try it and I didn’t trust him. Even though N. promised me he wouldn’t sleep with her. He just didn’t want to leave her alone the next three days, but between him and her it’s over, he said. STILL! I had no confidence in promises made to me by men, who supposedly loved me. So I wanted to go home, but N. stopped me. He suggested that we both, Stephanie & I stay with him for the next 3 days, until her family comes home. Thats CRAZY, I told him! However, he gave in and meant, he’d come up with something else for her, but he doesn’t want to lose me. And well, I stayed with him. But as I just heard what he thought about her and me, I wanted to leave again! 😞 Agh yea, I’ll tell next time how it went on. It's just too much for one post. And also Stephanie will be back and I'm gonna see Dennis. 🤦‍♀️Sandra will talk me into something totally stupid. I mean, she was just trying to encourage me. It was my stupid idea, to drag Dennis into that.....mess. But he also wanted it!!! 🤷‍♀️

Previous/ Next

#ts4 #sims 4 #sims 4 story #myrlgameplay #rl story #simself #18+ content #cw cheating

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starchilddante · 5 months

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For my first request, dear artist...

Prince to Princess.

Basically, she starts off a cis male who feels body dysphoria and wonders why, thinking that as a Prince he is perfect and there's nothing wrong with him... then one of her servants teaches her about LGBTQ+ and Trans people, and she realizes... oh my Irene, I'm not a Prince. I'm a Princess.

(also please please please make the parents supportive, I suffer from a self-proclaimed but really not supportive dad but incredibly supportive Mum and Step-dad)

“Good morning, your Highness. It’s time to get up.” I open my eyes blearily to the face of my attendant, smiling softly at me before heading over to fling open the window curtains. The light of the morning was already streaming through the windows. This is the third time I've overslept this week. Whoops.

I rolled over to the edge of my bed, stifling a groan. Now I would have to dodge Irene’s string of concerned questions all day and sit through another worried lecture from Mom.

It’s not that I didn’t appreciate their worries. I just… didn’t have any answers to my own questions, let alone theirs. It was easier to just pretend everything was fine. Even if I’d rather be sleeping lately.

“Come on, up and at ‘em.” Irene was never one to let me mope. “Just because you’ve got nothing going on this morning doesn’t mean you can lounge around, Prince Alexander.”

Irene had already laid out my outfit for the day, and I could hear the water running from the bathroom. A bath didn’t sound terrible.

I pushed myself from the bed, staggering over to the bathroom. Irene rewarded me with a slight smile, laying my undergarments next to the tub.

“I’ll help you get dressed once you’ve finished.”

After Irene closed the door behind her, I began to undress, doing my best not to look down. As I sank into the hot water, I caught a glance of my chest, where chest hair had become dark enough to be visible. An uncomfortable feeling settled underneath my skin. I’d been growing more and more body hair lately, a fact that caused me to feel more and more self-conscious. I did my best to ignore it. Body hair is normal for someone my age. My mother had said it plenty of times. I just needed to get used to it.

Once I was finished, I shoved on my undergarments and opened the bathroom door to Irene making my bed. Normally, a royal’s attendant would help them bathe and dress them in the bathroom, but I would feel weird asking Irene to do that for me. It was odd enough that I had specifically requested a female attendant. I didn’t want her to get the wrong idea.

Not that she would anymore. We’d gotten pretty close over the last year. She told me about her wife and two kids and I told her that I exclusively liked men. She told me about how she had been married to a man for four years and I told her that I didn’t come out to my parents as gay until I had to court a princess for the first time and I bawled my eyes out.

I didn’t tell her everything, though. There were some things you couldn’t tell anybody, not even your extra cool lesbian attendant. My stomach roiled with anxiety at the thought of it.

“Your parents want to see you for breakfast,” Irene said, pulling me out of my thoughts. “They waited for you. And then you have a meeting with your Father this afternoon to plan the ball for next month-”

Irene paused, staring at me as she combed my hair. “Prince Alexander? Where are you today?” I winced at the use of my name. Sometimes people used it when I wasn’t prepared and it felt like a bomb was being dropped. I don’t know why.

“I’m right here, Irene,” I replied. “We’re in my room, in case you didn’t know. In the castle.” Irene snorted at me, resuming the process of managing the thick brown bush on my head that I called hair.

“Wiseass,” she retorted. “You know what I meant. You’re stuck in your head again.” Her expression softened, and I knew what was coming.

“Everything okay in there?” she asked. “You’ve seemed… different these days. And you’ve been oversleeping a lot more recently.”

I brushed away her questions with a chuckle. “Come on, Irene. You know me. I’m just a grumpy old man in a 17 year-old’s body. Old men need their sleep. And it’s probably a good thing I’m thinking so much. It’d be a problem if the heir to the throne didn’t use their brain.”

Irene turned her head to look at me sternly, but I knew her well enough to see the smile hiding at the corners of her lips. I always knew how to lower Irene’s guard. It was my speciality.

“Still, you know you can talk to me about anything,” she finally said. “That’s what I’m here for, Alex.”

My heart fluttered a little. I much preferred Alex to Alexander, but Irene would only call me that every once in a great while, when we were alone.

“I didn’t know you were here to be my therapist. I thought you were my attendant.” Irene offered me a playful smack on the shoulder.

“Go to breakfast, your Highness.”

A short part one to let you know I did not forget this idea, I'm just a old and tired college student :p

Or if you'd rather read on Wattpad, I will continue uploading parts here and there:

Hope you enjoy the story!

#lgbtq #writing #short story #transgender stories

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yourlocalmultifandom · 1 year

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Part 1

VILLES POV

"Yeah" I nod into the phone, looking out of the window of the tour bus. I'd been all over America, but there was just one place I wanted to be, and in less than a whole day, I'd be there again. "I'll be there in the morning"

"Cool, I'll have everything ready when you get here" Bam agrees.

"Great, great. Okay, I'll talk to you then"

"Later" he says before the phone clicks.

I look up, watching Mige sit on the opposite side of the table and smile at me. The cheesy grin was enough, but when he happily intertwined his fingers on the tabletop, I narrow my eyes, knowing he's definitely up to something.

"What?" I stare.

"I'm going to hate not being able to speak to you the entire time we're there" he dramatically sighs.

"Why can't you?"

"Because you'll be a drooling puppy dog all over again, don't act like I can't see the way you cream your pants every time she's around"

"Surely you're not talking about me"

"I am. You and little miss Margera"

"Aprils a lovely woman, but she's married"

"Don't play dumb, Ville. You know I'm talking about Danni"

The very name struck a special string in my heart. I look at my hand, trying my best to hide any emotion that hits me. Bams twin sister, the vixen that ran away with my heart.

"She's off at college" I nearly whisper.

"No she isn't. Bam said she dropped out to do that CKY thing" a coy smirk dancing on his face.

"No she didn't" I stare, my heart skipping a beat.

"Oh yeah she did. Bam picked her up like three days ago, so she'll be all nice and ready to rock when you arrive"

"She's a friend"

"That you lose all dignity over" he smirks.

He's not wrong, I started thinking about her long dark hair, pale skin, those icy blue eyes...that damn smile. I find myself writing about her a lot, and I'll be the first to admit that Danni is a very beautiful girl, but I highly doubt I'd ever be her type. Even if I did have a chance, she's got this on and off thing with one of the guys from CKY, the band her brother, Jess, is in. Her little fling still doesn't stop me from devoting everything I have to her every chance I get, though. I was really hoping she wouldn't be there this time, I'm worried Bam will notice my admiration for her someday. He's bound to find out if I'm around her long. Those two are thick as thieves, being twins wasn't just in their looks either, I swear they could finish each other's very thoughts. I'd never have guessed anyone could match his energy the way she does.. The very first time I ever met her, Bam had brought her along to one of my shows, and I was instantly mesmerized. She was the first person to ever convince me to get on a skateboard, and the only girl I know that can drink as much as me. My mind starts trailing off, thinking about all of the time we've spent together during our friendship.

"Hello? Ville" Mige says, ripping me from my thoughts.

"Huh?" I stare.

"Exactly what I thought" he smiles. "Get some rest, you'll be struggling to breathe normal in a few hours"

"Right" I nod, realizing there was only about four hours before I see her.

I stand up, making my way to my bed and trying to mentally prepare myself for dealing with that beloved family of lunatics, I laugh at how I used to think Bam was crazy...then I met his sister. I lay in bed and think about all the memories I had with my favorite twins, remembering all the crazy shit they do on a regular basis. I sigh, trying to shut my brain off and get some rest, unfortunately, my brain is now infiltrated by one Danni Margera. I sigh, tossing and turning, haunted by her smile, her laugh, her touch. The three years I've spent being her friend has driven me insane, and now I'll be faced with her again, just praying that I don't accidentally let my love for her show. Maybe I'm recalling things through rose-tinted glasses, perhaps I'll get there and have entirely different emotions.

#Spotify

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slashersmuts · 1 year

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Silent love

By Slashers Smuts

Summary:

In the eyes of others, my heart's love was a monster. Some call him the evil body, but he shows me love.

Warning Fluff and Smut,

Characters: Jason Voorhees, Reader

I just wanted to write some Jason x reader lemon because I don't think there are enough of them out there.

First person from my OC.

Work Text:

I loved this place for reasons that others would never understand. The lake was always crystal clear, and the forests were always deserted due to the fear of being killed. But I have a secret; what if I told you that I never have to worry about my safety here? I find comfort in the same force that others fear.

Jason is the man I draw comfort from, the man I love the man I see every so often.

Many had fallen to the hands of this man my heart had done the same. He must feel the same as me or he would not have cleaned his cabin, stole clothes, let me hug him, took off his mask once and let me kiss him, and even showed me his mother.

My elbow fling up to catch myself on the cheap fabric of the seat in front of me. Hollowing my chest, causing me to have to take a deep breath of thirty people’s morning breath. God I hate taking the metal death trap, but it is the only way to get to him.

Space became less available as my stop came closer and closer.

Transportation does not run through camp Crystal Lake nor does it even come close to the entrance. Just out of sheer fear of Jason. So walking was my only option, the last time I drove he shot an arrow into the window. Narrowly missing me, after that he just avoided me as he was a bull and I was glass.

The bus slowed once more this time it was my turn to leave. I did all too gingerly, my lips curled into a smile my feet moving with my heart. Spontaneously.

I could not wait to see my Jason.

Out of memory I navigate the forest. A bent tree means a right, a dying bush means your close. A trail of blood means a certain person was hear not too long ago

Following the crimson streaks leads me to his cabin yes, but otherwise he would not be near where the trails stops. He doesn’t like to approach his mother bloody.

He goes down to his bunker most of the time, resets his traps and sharpens his blade. No one else know that there is a secret door leading underground. He is most likely going to be there. But I don’t get to be there for very often. It’s like a man in his work station.

Though like I said he did clean his cabin for me to stay in. He is probably not expecting me. I usually come in the spring and fall. But winter was going to be lonely, I had refused one to many men for Jason and my family was fed up. Apparently my mom and dad are too sick to visit or have visitors. But Aunt Carmen said the rest of the family is going.

Fine I don’t need them, I will just cook for Jason then… Does he even eat?

The back-pack on my back felt heavier as my conscious is now scratching at me, it would be rude to eat in front of him. I hope he doesn’t mind.

I stopped at the cabin, his cabin. I was now almost a full joy, even though the wind started to pick up I still felt warm. Perhaps snow would start to fall, I never been in a snowy forest before. I wonder if Janson likes the snow, then again he does not like water.

The door creaks open, I wonder inside stumbling to Jason’s room. The bed was blanket was slight pushed aside, he was just here.

The same creak of the door opened, the front door. Lead seemed to cover my feet, I wasn’t Jason who opened the door. He does it quietly. But someone else did.

“Hey girl, what are you doing here. Do you know the freak lives here.“ The bloodied man shrieked.

I whipped around to run away from the man. I run five steps before hearing a gurgling behind me.

I turn around to see the man’s throat slit and flooded with blood.

The silent man standing next to him. His chest rising and falling with quite strength.

“Hi Jason. Didn’t expect me?” I squeak, still fazed from his very resent kill.

He walked slowly towards me, his breathing getting heavier.

My body got lifted of the ground, over Jason’s shoulder.

He put me back down in is bunkers bed. It seemed as if he didn’t know what else to do. He just stared at me, like he wanted to say something.

“I have food to cook, do you want some. I also came here because I missed you and was alone for the holidays."I explained.

He tilted his head. Reminding me of the gift in my bag. I shrug the bag of my shoulders, retrieving the gift.

Handing him a package rapped in a dull wrapping paper not to discourage him from opening it.

Still when he got it he just examined it heavily.

I took the package back and peeled the paper back just a little. Handing back to him.

He seemed to get it this time, he started to carefully peel the paper off the gift. Revealing wool fabric, hand - made gloves.

The gloves now snugging his hands tightly. He flexed his hands testing out the fingerless gloves.

"Do you like them?” I question.

He stares at me, I could feel that was his yes.

“ I am going start cooking now.” I try to move.“ I say. I roll off to the side, trying to move past him. His arms catch me, pulling me back to where I started.

"Yes, Jason?” I whisper his name. He always jumps at his name. But this time he jumped towards me.

His fingers found my sleeves, tugging at them. He wanted me to go with him,his way of asking.

“Yes Jason” I say.“What ever it is I trust you.”

He lugs me over his shoulder once more taking me though unfamiliar territory.

Stopping in front of a crude looking cabin. As I step inside I notice very small details.

The place was furnished, probably stolen from somewhere. It was also rather large.

He cupped my waist, lowering me to the ground. Doing something he has never done before,he held my hand.

Slightly tugging it, he wants me to follow him. He ducked in a room.

Tears of joy filled my eyes,a cradle was pushed into the corner.

He then lowered himself onto his knees, pressing my hand to his mask. And his mask into my belly.

“Do you want a child?” I asked him.

He responded by grabbing my inner thighs lifting me up.

My weight getting carried from the room to the room next over.

Dropping me onto the fairly sized bed. Lifting up my shirt slightly, asking for my permission. I nod at him.

My long-sleeves and pants got ripped off in his wake of his hunger.

My body now exposed to the cold raised.

His body pressed against mine. Hips pressed against mine,as well as his clothed erection against my bare bottom.

I lift my hips rubbing his pants of to his knees. Also seeing that he wears no underwear.

My wetness waiting to be entered, he push into me as soft as he could. Pulling me into his death grip. His hips slapping against mine.

He pushing hit my buddle of nerves almost each time. By pure accident probably yes but regardless he was.

For a probably virgin he had lasted at least three hours. He seemed resistance to pleasure. Him being dead silent compared to me. With my moaning, whining, and whimpering.

Each time my back arched in climax, he pulled out from me giving me time to recover.

When I pulled his hips towards mine he pushes back into me.

The only noise he makes is when he finished inside me. His seed spilling into.

He rolls on to the side next to me. Staring into my eyes,I stare into the holes of his mask.

I run my hands over his masks, pulling on it. He didn’t move back from my touch so I pushed his mask up.

Seeing his face made my heart melt, a little grin tugged a my lips. I wasn’t because the way he looks. Because he trusts me to see his face.

I place a kiss on his lips.

“I love you Jason.”

My belly was full and my body was engulfed in his arms, so my dream had to be shared with him.

#SoundCloud

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milanitalia44 · 6 months

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The last time I saw Toby

part one

Dear diary,

I never thought I'd find myself back here, pen in hand, scribbling away in these pages. Liz insists it's therapeutic. Daddy, on the other hand, would probably confiscate this if he knew about it. He's always been more concerned with security than emotions.

Despite Daddy's disapproval, in our session this morning, Liz urged me to write again. It seems she believes in its therapeutic power enough to risk her position. So, here I am, writing again as what seems like a last resort.

The house feels hollow these days, a cold shell of what it used to be. Often, I find myself lying on my bed, gazing out of the west window at the garden. The gazebo in the midst of the white rose beds feels like a gravestone. I like to imagine the the warmth of last summer,

When my face was kissed by the sun rather than sickly white.

When my heart overflowed with love, untouched by the sharp edges that now cut it into fine pieces.

Mum avoids me, drowning herself in white wine, tennis, and redecorating the front hall. And Daddy, well, who knows what he's up to? I'd rather not know.

He's a man of strong black coffee.

A man of pressed navy suits with long skinny ties.

A man who likes dark gray Porsche 911’s, lying, talking loudly on the phone, and women who aren’t my mother.

Liz suggested I write about last summer, to put my memories into words “as a way to set it off into the past and heal”… bullshit in my opinion, but I guess I'll give it a shot.

I’ve always been bad at memorizing for tests, daddy had to hire three different tutors just to get me through my biology class last fall, all of them quit within 3 weeks. My memories of last summer on the other hand effortlessly cut through the haze of my usual forgetfulness. It was a sweet smelling day. The cherry blossoms along the front gardens had reached full bloom, they smelt faintly of Mummy’s summer perfume. My birthday had just passed so Lucky was a fairly new treasure. I’d begged and begged for a new riding horse for ages, so finally on my 18th birthday, there came striding in a perfect chestnut English Thoroughbred with a red bow tied neatly around his neck. I remember the tears, the tight embrace with Daddy and the proud look on Mummys face. That afternoon I quietly set out and rode Lucky down the dirt road just south of our land, something I used to do with my old horse Bucky before he passed. About 20 minutes into my ride, a thud echoed behind me, startling Lucky. I swung around to an odd tableau: a blue bicycle and a cascade of newspapers scattered across the road. A few feet from his fallen bicycle, lay a brunette boy, rubbing his knee. I hopped off Lucky and helped him recollect his papers into his woven bicycle basket. Surprised by my act of kindness, he squinted at me and mentioned something about a familiar face. Instead of answering, I asked him what on earth all of the newspapers were for. It turned out, he was the paperboy—I felt stupid.

“How about I help you out then, I barely ever get to go into town” I said

He agreed. We decided it would be faster if we made the deliveries together with Lucky, so there we rode, it must've been such a peculiar sight. A paperboy and a princess riding an English Thoroughbred down the streets, flinging newspapers into yards and laughing foolishly. It was one of the best days of my life.

My dear Lucky.

Our white gazebo.

The newspaper article I've kept from that very first day.

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semperama · 2 years

Note

Sorry about your anxiety, I hope you feel better soon ❤️

Fluffy prompt: Maxiel, "You look good in the morning sun"

Daniel never stays the entire night. If he sneaks out in the wee hours, that means it isn’t real, isn’t serious. So when he rolls ever and sees the sun streaming through the curtains, a golden slice of it falling across Max’s chest, he panics.

His pants are somewhere on the floor, and his phone is probably in them. He has no idea what time it is, but he bets he’s already missed texts from Michael. Yesterday’s race still weighs on him, and he feels like he’s still covered in sweat and road grit even though he’s had multiple showers since then, but this job doesn’t come with many breaks. Just one more reason he should have been back in his own hotel room by now. Michael side-eyes him when he spends too much time with Max as it is. Says it distracts him. Sometimes Daniel just wants to—

He sighs, runs his hands over his face, then flips the sheets away and sits up. He meant to be quiet, but beside him, Max stirs some, rolling his head to the side and flinging one arm up over his head. Daniel looks over his shoulder at him and thinks about pressing his thumb to the crease between Max’s brows, smoothing it away. Instead, he gets to his feet and starts picking up his clothes.

He has an armful and is about to head for the bathroom to clean up when an arm wraps around his waist from behind and fingers wrap around his wrist, squeezing until Daniel drops most of his clothes reflexively. “Stop,” Max says in his ear. He presses against Daniel, bare skin to bare skin, his soft cock nestled against the back of Daniel’s thigh. “Don’t go yet.”

Daniel swallows hard against the painful lump in his throat. This is why he doesn’t stay. It’s easier to slip out right after they fuck. It's easier to kiss Max, rough and perfunctory, scrub down in the shower, and then wave at him from the doorway, tell him he’ll see him at home or at the track. It’s easier when he can barely see Max’s face in the dark.

“I have to,” Daniel says. He flexes his wrist against Max’s grip, and Max gentles but doesn’t let go.

“Why? What do you have to do?”

Max doesn’t take hints. He barely responds even to bluntness. Daniel imagines what would happen if he told Max, “I have to go, because seeing you in the morning makes me want to keep you all to myself, forever,” and he knows Max would only frown at him, confused, and say something stupid like, “So keep me then,” not knowing exactly what he was agreeing to, just willing to say anything to get Daniel to do what he wants, give him what he wants.

“You think I have my schedule memorized?” Daniel says, making his voice light, a joke. “I have people for that. But I do know there’s always something.”

A tug at his wrist, and Daniel finally turns around, though he takes his time letting his gaze work his way up from the ground, lingering on the smear of dried come on Max’s hip and the pink marks Daniel sucked on his pecs last night, because all of that is safer than meeting his eyes. Max isn’t saying anything, though, and eventually Daniel has no choice but to look at his face. His hair is a mess, sticking up in the back like some kind of fluffy baby bird. The sunlight coming through the window highlights the dust of golden stubble on his jaw.

“Max,” Daniel says. “Let go.”

Instead, Max kisses him. He winds his arms around Daniel’s neck and opens his mouth against his, so Daniel has no choice but to slide his tongue past Max’s teeth, taste his stale morning breath, cup his hands to Max’s jaw and hold him there. He doesn’t notice Max dragging him back toward the bed until he’s being dragged down onto it, the breath leaving his lungs in a huff.

Max is still loose and wet from last night. Daniel spits in his hand, slicks himself up hoping it’s enough, and pushes inside Max in one quick stroke that makes Max let out a sound like he’s dying. He kisses Max hard, his eyes squeezed shut so tight it makes his head ache, and keeps kissing him until Max tears his mouth away to says, “Don’t stop,” as if Daniel had considered ever, ever stopping.

He fucks Max hard enough to make them both slip up the bed, until Max has to toss the pillows out of the way with one hand while digging bruises into Daniel’s bicep with the other. The sounds Max makes—soft and pained and so fucking hot—are almost enough for Daniel to lift his head and look at him, but no, he can’t, he won’t. If he just fucks Max good enough one more time, he can get up and go, and maybe this time will be the last, maybe he’ll have the willpower to—

Max grabs him by the hair and lifts his head up, and Daniel opens his eyes before he has time to remind himself not to. And Max is looking back at him, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes, his mouth bitten bright red. The sun through the window slices across his face now, making him glow, and for a moment Daniel is sure his heart is going to explode from his chest.

“Please,” Max says, and Daniel has no idea what he wants, but he’d give it to him, anything, everything.

“Shh,” he says instead, and kisses Max again. Max comes like that, hot and wet against Daniel’s stomach, sucking on Daniel’s tongue. “Good,” Daniel says, open-mouthed against Max’s cheek. “Max,” he says, and grinds his hips into Max’s so he can spill as deep inside him as possible, like maybe he could make sure a part of him would stay in there forever, where Max could always feel it, where no one else could get at it.

“Stay,” Max says, breathless. He still has a death grip on Daniel’s arm, and he brings the other to wrap around the back of his neck. “Stay here. It’s early. Let’s sleep.”

Now that Daniel has started looking, he can’t stop. He brushes his thumb across Max’s mouth, then kisses him with his eyes wide open. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he asks. He reaches down to ease himself out of the clutch of Max’s body, then immediately regrets the loss.

Max’s eyelids flutter, then close. The sunlight gilds his eyelashes, and Daniel gives in to the urge to run his thumb across them. “You could never,” Max says.

Daniels wishes that worked both ways. He lays his head on Max’s chest, listens to his heartbeat, and pretends.

#maxiel #f1 #my writing #ficlet #this prompt is from a while ago but i felt inspired!#it ended up a little more melancholy than expected though oops

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jenomark · 3 years

Text

➔Pairing: Jeno x Reader (Female) ➔Other Members/ Characters: -.- ➔Genre: Smut (with a plot!) ➔Warnings: Sexual tension & Penetration. ➔Word count: 2,470

➔Summary: You haven't called your ex-boyfriend in two years, but he's the first person you call when you're in a bit of trouble. He comes when you call, thus sparking a night neither of you will be able to move on from.

Anon request #1: can I request an ex to lovers scenario with jeno where his ex and him decided to stay as friends and since always they had a huge tension and after 2 years they got really flirty or smth, thanks💖

Anon request #2: hi, I want to request a drabble about sex with jeno, thank you!!

Jeno looked at his buzzing cell phone and blinked lazily. He hadn't seen your number come up since you broke up with him, which had to have been two years ago. He had managed to stay friends with you over those two years, but you were never friendly enough to call each other at three in the morning. Still, Jeno picked up the call to hear static at the other end of the line, wondering if he would still feel the same when he heard the sound of your voice.

"Hello?"

There was more static. When he thought you might have pocket dialed him, and he was getting ready to hang up, he heard your voice. Time seemed to slow down in those moments.

"Jeno?" you said. "I don't have good service out here. I'm scared, Jeno."

Feeling his heart race, Jeno asked, "Where are you? What is going on?"

"Off the highway. My car broke down." you said. "Can you come get me?"

Jeno sprang out of bed immediately, tearing the covers from his naked body. He got dressed while keeping you on the phone with him, so that you weren't scared. He drove to where you were, pulling over to the side of the road. When you saw him, you got out of your car and stood awkwardly, wringing your hands together.

"I know I shouldn't have called you first," you started to say. "But i-"

"-It's okay." he said, meaning it.

Jeno was bone tired, but being in front of you made him more alert. Though you broke his heart, he was still so careful with yours. Jeno came over to your car to look at it, pulling up the hood like he had any idea what he was truly doing. You watched his muscles as he fiddled around with stuff, your eyes slightly glazing over.

"I don't know much about cars." he said, shutting the hood. "I'll call someone to come pick this up. Until then, I will drive you back home. It's too late for us to be waiting out here."

You nodded and followed him back to his car. He made the call quickly before setting his cell phone down in the cup holder. There was so much gratitude for him in the silence, but you couldn't seem to get any of your thoughts out. You were still thinking about his muscles, about how handsome he looked at nearly four in the morning.

"It's done," he said. "They'll pick your car up soon. You can figure out what to do about it tomorrow."

"Thank you." you said.

It had started to rain. A few droplets hit the front of his windshield before a whole sheet of rain came down, hitting the top of his roof as hard as rocks. He could barely see out of the windshield, so he decided to wait for the storm to pass. It was awkward inside of the car, and too quiet.

You cleared your throat. "Are you seeing anyone?"

Jeno looked over at you, his eyebrows raised in surprise. Seeing his expression, you realized what an invasive question it was. You tried backtracking, but you were sputtering your words enough to make Jeno laugh.

"Relax," he said. "I'm not seeing anyone."

You didn't know what you were thinking. Maybe you were too tired to think straight. Maybe it was the sound of the rain. Maybe it was the way he looked at you in the darkness of the car. You reached over and touched the hand that rested on the steering wheel until he looked you in your eyes.

"You got Lasik eye surgery." you said. "You used to look so cute in your glasses."

For Jeno, it was easy. There has always been sexual tension between you. Touching the top of your hand felt natural. He leaned over, grabbed your chin and kissed you. You made out, completely unaware that the rain had stopped. When everything slowed down, you were straddling Jeno in his seat, and his hands were on your ass. You parted, your eyes staying on his lips until he spoke.

"I should get you home." he said.

"You should come home with me." you said, surprising yourself more than him.

Jeno laughed and eased your body off of his. "I want that more than you know, but I don't think it's a good idea. I could never control myself around you. "

Jeno drove you home, the only sound in the car coming from the windshield wipers noisily wiping away droplets of rain. You followed the blades swiping left to right, your brain in a funk.

Breaking up with Jeno was one of your top ten mistakes. You weren't as wise as you are now. You didn't know what you had when you let it go. You had carried his hurt with you everywhere you went for two years. Though you remained as friends, there was always weird tension whenever you met up with each other. His group of friends didn't trust you, and your group of friends always took your side, even though each of them was in love with Jeno. Your shared friends didn't get into the middle of it, and you and Jeno spent 24 months skating around unspoken apologies.

"We never had a chance to talk alone." you said, finally getting the bravery to speak out. “There are a lot of things left unsaid.”

Jeno pulled up in front of your house. You weren't surprised he knew where you had moved to, because you had been dropping hints for months. You had always hoped Jeno would roll up one day and give you another chance you didn't quite think you deserved.

"We don't have to talk about it now. "It's early in the morning and we both could use some sleep," he said.

You hummed in agreement, looking out of the rain soaked window at your lonely, dark house. You looked up at the sky and wanted the sun to come up, to cast a pretty glow over you and soften the experience of sitting with your ex in his car.

"You're like my knight in shining armor." you said. "I owe you a lot."

You had your hand on the door handle. You wanted to lean over and kiss him the way he kissed you, but your bravery only went so far. Jeno seemed to be thinking a similar thing. His eyes fell to your lips. Before either of you could act, he unlocked his doors.

"Get some sleep." he said, rubbing his arms as if he were cold. "I'll check in tomorrow to see how you're doing. I don't want them overcharging you for their services. If you want, I can go with you to make sure they don't."

"Okay." was all you could say. You got out of the car, tapped on his window as a way to say thank you and walked up the pathway to your house. You touched your fingers to your lips and remembered the way he tasted.

Jeno stayed there idling while you put your lock into the door and turned the handle. Once you were safely inside, you didn't wait to see if he had driven away.

You walked into your home, not caring enough to flick lights on. You weren’t as tired as before. Making out with Jeno had felt like an IV of caffeine had slipped into your bloodstream. Your body felt swollen in places, your heart most of all. You walked through the rooms, taking off your bra underneath your t-shirt and flinging it across the back of your couch. Your foot was on the first step of your stairs when you heard a soft rapping sound on your front door. Backtracking, you walked back to the door and flung it open, crossing one of your arms against your chest to hide yourself.

“Hi,” Jeno said.

He stood rooted to the spot, his eyes darting frantically around your face. You had no time to greet him back before he stepped over the threshold and took your lips against his. You moved your arm and let him smash his hard chest against your free breasts. Your nipples were aroused and you knew he could feel them against the thin material of his t-shirt. You threw your arms around his neck and clung to him, savoring the taste and feel of him.

“I know I said no but....” he said, between kisses. “It was very hard to watch you walk away from me just now.”

You kissed him and bit down on his lip, pulling it lightly with your teeth before letting go. “Take me to bed.” you said. “Or the floor...the couch..i don’t care, Jeno, just take me.”

Jeno picked you up into his arms. He shut your front door and locked it behind him without ever taking himself away from your lips. He was strong enough to carry you upstairs without struggling, which made you even more aroused than you already felt.

“To the left.” you whispered against his mouth.

It was strange having him in your new bedroom, yet, there was something familiar about seeing him amongst your possessions. He felt like he belonged. Jeno set you down on your bed and let out a groan of approval when you wouldn’t let go of his neck. You tried to trap him with your thighs, but he had pinned your arms above your head, which made you release him. Your body relaxed, half hanging off of your bed. Your stomach was bare where your shirt had ridden up, so Jeno leaned down to kiss it. He pushed it all the way up to expose your bare breasts and take them in your mouth one at a time. He was really going at it, feeling them and teasing them, when you put a stop to things and slipped out from underneath him.

“Can you give me a moment?” you asked, your face growing hot. “ I just need a second.”

Jeno sighed but agreed. He sat on the edge of your bed and watched you slink into your bathroom. You tried your best to freshen up, to get the 5 a.m stink off of you. Your mind was frantic and thinking of a million things that could go wrong. You realized that you were extremely nervous. The door to the bathroom slowly opened to reveal Jeno standing there with his hands in his pockets, and all of those thoughts faded like ghosts into the foreground.

“What are you doing?” he asked, crooking his finger. “Get over here.”

It was much easier than you thought it would be. It was like two friends getting together after a long time, friends that knew each other’s bodies inside and out. You tore off your shirt, not caring whether your armpits were sweating anymore. He met your breasts and moaned in appreciation as his mouth got back to business. On the bed, he rolled on top of you, laying kisses all down your body. You lifted your head up and let him nip at your neck. You took your hands and placed them underneath his t-shirt to touch his abs.

“Well,” you breathed. “This has changed.”

Jeno could only laugh. He took off his shirt and let you admire his body, which had definitely changed since the last time you took him to bed. You touched the hardness of his chest, down to the smoothness of tummy leading down to his cock, which you remembered in every detail. You sidled underneath him and let your tongue taste the salt on his skin. You bit down on his shoulder and looked him in the eyes.

Your body had changed, too. You were softer in a lot of places, which Jeno loved. He wanted to touch and savor all of you. There was an overeagerness to him that stifled any remaining awkwardness there could have been. He bit down on your shoulder in response, scraping his teeth against your skin before he met your mouth. His tongue wound its way around yours for a few seconds, just relishing the feeling of them together.

Once all the clothes were removed, a desperation started to change the atmosphere. Things were no longer silly. He didn’t laugh. You didn’t go anywhere but in his arms. The rain on the window was quiet but present. The sun was seeping into your skin where you lay underneath him. There was a moment where he grabbed your face between his hands and held you there, his thumb brushing across your cheek. He kissed you sweetly, his lips full.

When Jeno entered you, it was like all the memories of your sex life came flooding back. You would always miss him inside of you when he wasn’t there, miss the full feeling that came when he penetrated you for the very first time. You had missed the sounds his throat made whenever he concentrated on pleasuring you. You hadn’t forgotten how skilled his fingers were at fondling you, or how each stroke never failed to make you lose all thought. He fucked your body like it meant something in the morning glow. He didn’t slow down for anything, not even when he felt your fingernails digging into his back.

He had let you take control. You moved on top of him and sank down onto his cock, holding onto his arms as you did. With your hands pressed against his chest, you moved. You rode Jeno wildly, bucking against his pelvis with abandon. He tugged on your hair when you tilted your chin towards the ceiling. He gripped your waist. He smacked your ass. He did everything in his power to bring you back to him every time you slipped away. Your eyes eventually found him again. You moved lower and rode him, your sweaty body gliding against his. He held you, his thick arm around your neck as he felt your walls contract, as you came around his cock.

You wanted to cry out, wanted to bring the room down around you. You kept fucking him, wanting to coax the cum from his cock, to feel the warmth moving downwards with gravity. You wanted to keep it going forever, but it wasn’t meant to be. It had been a long time since you two had made love, and your bodies were too excited to hold back.

You knew there would be a talk somewhere in the future, when he was ready. As Jeno screwed up his face in orgasm, as you felt the warmth of his cum, you were a little too happy to prolong that conversation. You wanted him in your life for a long time but, for now, you would take him any way you could get him.

#jeno #lee jeno #nct jeno #jeno smut #nct smut #lee jeno smut #jeno fanfic #nct fanfic #nct dream fanfic #nct dream smut #lee jeno fanfic #hope you don't mind me combining these #i liked where the first one was going #and i was not originally going to add sex but I know some people out there would love it #so it felt right to answer both

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bellarkeselection · 2 years

Text

Rodeo Phonecall

Request from EbonyHogan on Wattpad. The reader gets drunk at a rodeo and calls Rip her best friend. The next morning he takes care of her and reveals how he feels about what she said during their phone call last night.

Pressing the phone to my ear I hear it ring for a minute until my best friend Rip's voice came across. "Hey Y/n, long time hearing from you." I slur my words stumbling into the bleachers after having too many drinks. "Rippp, I'm having the time of me life. Seeing sta - stars." He chuckles through the phone at me, figuring out I'm not my sober self. "Are you drunk, babydoll?" I wave my freehand around in the air watching people leave the area. "Nah you've got confused - 10 beers wouldn't. I've got a secret - don't tell Rip though..." The person on the phone replied with me hearing a door closed and a truck door being opened. "I'm - damn straight - in love with him....come get a ride." A truck engine starts up hearing the other guy responds. "I'm on my way, hang tight baby."

Someone shakes me awake as I'm asleep on the cold so I blinked my eyes open seeing a blury Rip Wheeler above me. "Rippp" I cheer holding my arms up swinging my legs over to stand up. Apparently my body says otherwise because I collapse against his chest feeling him picking me up bridal style. "Just rest now. I'm taking you to the ranch for the night." My eyes fall close playing with the zipper of his black jacket after that I don't remember anything. The next time I open my eyes again I immediately shut them seeing sunlight through a bedroom window. "Shit my head - where am I?" I groaned feeling my head pounding harshly.

"I brought you to the ranch since it was a closer drive. Here drink this it should help with the hangover." Rip explains handing me a cup of some sort of medicine that smells gross. He moves around the bedroom closing the certain so I'm not squinting to see his face. "I shouldn't have went to that show by myself. Because I clearly didn't care how much alcohol I drank." Running a hand through my hair I down the drink trying not to gag at the bitter taste. Truth is I don't understand why I'd drink this much. Usually I'll only have one or two but last night was something else. "Rip, dare I ask what did I do last night?" I hope to God nothings posted on the internet about me.

Rip sits on the bed taking my right hand in his gently tipping his hat up a little. "The only thing that you did was call me wasted drunk on the phone. And said something I was hoping you'd say to me for years now..." I'm not sure if it's real or not because of the hangover and lost memory but I swear I see his face turn red in a deep blush. "Rip, I'm at a loss here. What did I say?" I questioned my best friend of 5 years wanting to know if I'd messed something up between us. "Y/n, you said you're in love with me....did you mean it?" My entire body freezes and I want to just bury my entire body under the covers. It all comes back to me, the reason I drank so much last night. Was so that I'd stop worrying whether or not to tell my best friend I fucking love him.

"Ye - yes I love you..." I stuttered out feeling a burning of my cheeks avoiding his gaze. His freehand tilts my chin so I'm looking up at him to see he's smiling, a smile on his face is so rare and precious because he rarely smiles. "I love you too, Y/n L/n. Always have and always will until the day I die." Without thinking I fling my arms around his neck kissing him suddenly. He gasped at first then slowly kisses me back, his arms going around my waist pulling me into deepen it. Unfortunately we have to break for air but it a panting mess I grinned at this man. "I'll love until I die to. I always have and always will, Rip Wheeler." He smiled leaning up snd capturing my lips with his once more, pushing me onto my back making his hat fall on the floor. This is the best drunk phone call that actually worked out for me.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

#rip wheeler #rip wheeler x reader #rip wheeler x friend reader #cole hauser #yellowstone #wattpad request #requests open #send asks #send me questions #comments appreciated #ask box is open for anything

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hareharrison · 3 years

Text

hold me

pairing: george harrison x reader

summary: george is in the process of finishing abbey road, and has been repeatedly coming home frustrated. instead of talking to you about it, he distances himself completely, and only speaks to you in annoyance or anger, and lashes out on you. he doesn’t know how much it affects you and one day comes home to the effects firsthand.

warnings: hurt/comfort, angst, angy geo, neurodivergent reader, invasive thoughts, mental breakdown/panic attack, but it works out in the end

a/n: hayyyy ok so i wrote this as a comfort fic for myself, and i decided to post it cause why not. i struggle with intense fear of abandonment cause of bpd haha fun 😐and wanted to make it from the POV of a neurodivergent reader?? so this is like a comfort fic for ND readers?? idk if i need to put any other potential trigger warnings for this but if i do please lmk and i will fix it

year: 1969

the flat was quiet without him. to be honest, it was quiet with or without him, lately. as much as you didn’t want to admit it, george had been distant. he was always a quiet person, but he has never dismissed you this much. you knew that his job could be tiring and you tried not to overthink it, but you couldn’t help but feel bad. a voice in your head was planting horrible ideas, saying things like, “you fucked up, he doesn’t like you anymore, you’re annoying.” but still, you pushed on and tried your best to ignore the noise in your brain.

you sigh heavily and slide back into the couch. you had the next two days off of work, and nothing to do. george of course had to work on your days off, which left you alone at home. with your thoughts. it was hard getting through today, your intrusive thoughts were particularly loud... but he would be home any minute now, which brought on a bit of hope; seeing him should rid you of your own jailhoused mind.

the tv played some sitcom in front of you, which you had no interest in. all you could think about was if you ruined things. what if he was thinking of leaving you? it would be your fault... and yet you couldn’t think of a single thing you’ve ever done that might have hurt him.

the door opened gently and let in a cool draft that brushed against your warm skin. you look toward the entrance, seeing your george sigh heavily with exhaustion as he took his shoes and coat off. he looked up to you, his boldly furrowed brows softening.

“hi, love,” he says, walking toward you. you stand and approach him to greet him with a quick kiss. he holds you for a little longer than usual, and you take the opportunity to melt into his arms and breathe in his smell, something you’d been deprived of recently. he rests his chin on top of your head, which laid comfortably on his rising chest. it was moments like this that made all your worries slip away, moments like this that you wished you could cling onto forever and ever.

“how was your day?” you ask, finally leaning back to look up at him. he lets go of you and runs a hand through his long hair.

“not good,” he says, a frown on his perfectly sculpted face. you return his expression at the sight of him being sad. quickly, you remember your dinner ideas. maybe that would cheer him up.

“hey, maybe we can go get something to eat? maybe get your mind off of things?” you suggest, looking up at his brown eyes. he looks down at you, eyes full of regret.

“i’m sorry love, but i’d rather just head to bed already,” he says remorsefully. you smile softly and reassure him that it’s okay and he should get some rest. but part of you breaks inside, knowing he doesn’t want to spend time with you.

he headed upstairs and you followed, the painful ideas returning at full speed.

“you’re so annoying, of course he doesn’t want to spend any time with you. you’re so annoying and clingy,” your brain says and you flinch at the harsh thoughts. through your entire bedtime routine, thoughts flooded your mind and filled your entire being up, and you felt like you were being drowned from the inside out. george stood next to you as you both brushed your teeth, not speaking a single word to you or giving you a single glance. you changed into one of george’s t-shirts and watched as he slid out of his clothes and into his pajamas in seconds. he muttered a monotone, “good night,” before turning on his side, his back facting you.

as much as you didn’t want to, you believed the mean voices and hung your head as you got into bed next to george.

you slept back to back that night.

————————————————————

the sun seeped into your room through your windows, and invaded your bed, waking you rather unpleasantly. you groan lightly as you reached over your bed for george, but only found empty space. his side of the bed was cold, indicating that he’d been up for a while now.

you sit up slowly, rubbing your eyes as the aromas of freshly brewed coffee and morning dew hit your senses. you hear the song of the early birds chirping as your feet hit the cool floor. as you head downstairs, you can hear george on the phone, and you soon see him muttering softly before taking a long drag from his cigarette. you don’t bother him, seeing that there was paperwork on the table and his call must be business related. naturally, you decide to head for the coffee, the smell luring you in like a fish.

you poured the hot, dark liquid into your favorite mug and add in your preferred amounts of cream and sugar. looking out the window, you see water drip gently from the leaves of a tree that george and you had planted a year ago. you sip your coffee and reminisce about the times you used to actually spend time with george. how nice it was, seeing him smile so often.

you suddenly hear george raise his voice at the phone, something unlike him entirely. you jump at the unpleasant sound before peeking through the hallway to see what on earth was happening.

“no, i don’t care! i want the bloody bastard fired, in fact, tell him not to bother showing up today,” he shouts into the phone before slamming it down, placing his head between his knees and groaning in frustration. seeing george this upset and acting out on it was truly a rare sighting, and you thought carefully about what to next.

after careful consideration, you tiptoe into the room and gently rest a hand on his shoulder, the sudden contact making him flinch.

“christ, (y/n) are you trying to give me a bloody heart attack?” he grumbles before lighting another cigarette.

“sorry,” you say softly, “would you like some tea?” you figure it could calm his anger and soothe some of his abnormal irritability.

“what? tea? there’s already coffee made,” he says rudely. you take a step back, saying nothing. you know that you didn’t do anything and that this behavior would pass. george was never like this. your eyes find the time and see that george should have left ten minutes ago.

“george, you’re gonna be late to work,” you say, thinking you could at least do something helpful. his head snaps back at you and his once soft face turned hard with anger.

“what are you implying? you want me gone?” he stands up and angrily grabs all of the papers scattered on the table, shoving them into a folder and the folder into his bag, “fine, i’ll leave. im out the door.”

you look at him in confusion, you’d barely woken up and were just trying to help, “what’s the matter with you?”

“what’s the matter with me,” he repeats, looking away and scoffing. he runs his hand through his hair in frustration, “im sick of this, (y/n)! im sick of life. i come home exhausted and you have half a mind to ask me if i want to talk about it!”

“you always want to go straight to bed,” you defend yourself, hurt that he would even suggest that you don’t care about him. his dark eyes glare into your own for a moment that feels like hours, trying to think of somethig clever to say in response, but he just wasn’t ever much of a fighter. he finally chooses to put his cigarette out on the table’s ashtray and grab his coat. if you wanted him out of the house, he was more than happy to comply.

“george-“ you start.

“no,” he cuts you off, “don’t say anything right now, i can’t even look at you.” and he doesn’t, he ignores your presence entirely as he picks up his bag and walks out the door.

you’re left in the cold house, alone, hurt, and dumbfounded. you couldn’t believe what had just happened. you couldn’t believe that george, your george, had taken his anger out on you, simply for trying to help his morning be less shitty. worse than that, he thought you wanted him gone, when all you wanted was to be with him. is this how it was going to be now? a bitter, loveless relationship? your eyes sting with fresh tears at the thought, and a huge lump in your throat grows painfully. you take a deep breath before heading upstairs. you wanted anything but to cry this early in the morning, and the only reason you got up somewhat early was to see george before he left to work. now that your morning was ruined, you figured heading back to bed was the next best thing.

you climb back into your shared bed, suppressing your emotions with the warmth of your fluffy blankets and soft pillows. the comfort of a bed felt almost like a hug, and you sighed, letting the pain drift away as you fell asleep.

————————————————————

when you opened your eyes, the realization hit you. you’d slept until the sun began to set, completely ignoring your emotions, stuffing them down inside of you like an overflowing trash can. being awake made them fling right back at you; sleeping didn’t change a thing, and was only a temporary pause in your pain.

all of your feelings came back to you at once, and it once again felt like you were drowning internally. only this time, the thoughts weren’t the invasive factor. your emotions were overwhelmingly intense on top of your brain practically screaming horrible things to you. your breathing quickens as you feel tears slide down your face. this time you werent able to swallow the thick lump in your throat, and you began to weep softly.

this was it, george was leaving you. he hates you, he wants nothing to do with you. there was nothing you could do but hug your knees and cry. you choked on a sob and started rocking back and forth in attempts to try to soothe yourself. but you couldn’t stop, it felt like your entire world was falling apart. you soon began to have shortness of breath and struggled with your breathing, feeling your heart beat at an intense rate that you couldn’t control.

your bedroom door opens, revealing george’s early arrival. he immediately rushes to your side, afraid to touch you but wanting so bad to comfort you.

“(y/n)? (y/n), breathe. breathe, baby,” he takes your hand and you look at him. you aren’t sure if him being here is making the situation better or worse. seeing him try to help you stirred all kinds of feelings in your mind. you felt like you weren’t good enough for him, like you didn’t deserve his help.

george begins breathing in through his nose and out of his mouth, gently guiding you and hoping you will try to do the same. he sits in front of you on the bed and holds your face in his gentle hands. you look up into his eyes, the chocolate features of his face soothing you as your breath began to steady.

“that’s it,” he encourages.

“do you hate me?” you cry softly.

“what? no, (y/n), i’d give my life for yours, do you know that? you’re so, very special to me,” he slides over to sit beside you on the bed and wraps his long arms around you.

“why are you so distant?” you look up at him, and tears continue to roll down your flushed cheeks, “you acted so mean to me this morning, i feel like you want nothing to do with me.”

george is hurt by your words. he truly didn’t mean to be distant, and he never wanted to hurt you.

“i’m sorry,” he says, “ive been so overwhelmed i haven’t stopped to think of how you must feel. im really sorry my love i never meant to hurt you like this.” he embraces you tightly and you give into his comforting touch, wrapping your arms around his torso and digging your face into his chest.

you take a deep breath, “i understand,” you say before looking up to him to whisper, “i miss you. i miss us.”

“i miss you too darling,” he pauses for a moment, “how about i take tomorrow off? we can do whatever you’d like.”

you sniffle, “what about the album? the deadline?”

“i can fake sick. nothing is more important to me than you,” he says, “i want nothing more than to be with you. i love you so much.”

you smile when he presses a soft kiss to your aching head, “now how about we go have something to eat? i’m starved.”

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falcqns · 3 years

Text

Hey, can you write that she faked her orgasm because she has trouble cum. Henry finds out and is angry because she hasn’t said anything and doubts his abilities? then he brings her to a orgasm

First Time

Pairing: Henry Cavill x Reader

Warnings:

A/N: Thank you so much for the request! Hope you enjoy!

Henry pulled out of you with a grunt, and fell against the bed beside you. You immediately felt a wave of guilt wash over you at your failed orgasm, and rolled over to face away from him, willing the tears to stay away. You felt the bed jostle as Henry stood up and walked into the conjoining bathroom, and heard the tap being turned on before you heard him coming back.

You flinched slightly as the wet washcloth was pressed against your core, but Henry shushed you quietly and you calmed down. No words were said, they never were. Henry knew you always grew emotional after sex, and were never up to talking, so he stayed quiet, and always allowed you to speak first.

He tossed the used washcloth into the laundry hamper in the corner of your bedroom, and laid back down on the bed. He laid his hand on your back, and that’s when the dam broke. You started sobbing, and Henry immediately pulled you into his arms. He was concerned. You may have teared up before, but have never outright sobbed after sex like you were before.

Your face was pressed against his bare chest, his fingers moving up and down your back to soothe you. “What’s wrong?” He asked, and waiting for you to calm down to answer. “I-I didn’t finish,” You said remorsefully, and Henry gave you a sad smile.

“Sometimes it won’t happen. It doesn’t mean anythings wrong with you, or that I’ll love you any less,” He said, and you pulled out of his arms as another wave of guilt washed over you again. You scooted to the end of the bed, and looked out the window to your right.

“I’ve never finished,” You admitted, and Henry exclaimed.

“What?!” He said. You didn’t answer, and instead kept looking out the window at the snow coming down in droves. He grunted in annoyance, and stood up. He gathered his clothes and started to get dressed. You didn’t turn around until you heard his belt clicking.

“I-I’m sorry.” You whispered, and he scoffed.

“No you aren’t. If you were, you would have been honest from the start. He said. “If you had told me from the beginning that you weren’t attracted to me, I would have been perfectly happy being friends with you. I don’t want to be in a relationship with someone who is only dating me because they feel sorry for me.” He said. he sat down on the mattress, and pulled his socks on. “You should have told me that you didn’t want it. If you did, I wouldn’t have done anything. I don’t want you turning this around on me because it could ruin my career.” He said.

“Hen, I-” You began, but Henry cut you off.

“No. Next time, just spare me the heartbreak, and tell em you don’t feel the same way. Sure I’d have been upset, but I wouldn’t be mad. I thought you were different.” He said, and you listened as he stormed out of the apartment.

You broke down crying as you heard his car driving away.

Later that night, before you drifted off to sleep, you sent him a text.

“I didn’t not finish because I’m not attracted to you. I am insanely attracted to you. I didn’t finish because I never have. I’ve never even been able to make myself cum. You know for a fact that I would NEVER accuse you of something like that, and I am offended that that thought was even in your head. I am different, and you know that. It’s not your fault, but it’s not mine either, so don’t you DARE blame me for this.” You sent the message before flinging your phone across the room and rolling over to sleep.

Moments later, you heard your phone vibrating against the hardwood floor of your bedroom, but you chose to ignore it, closing you eyes instead and drifting off to sleep.

The next morning, you were awoken by pounding on your front door. You groaned in annoyance, but pulled yourself out of bed to answer it. When you opened the door, you were faced with Henry.

You were about to close the door, but he pushed into your apartment and picked you up bridal style, kicking the door shut behind him. He carried you to your bedroom and dropped you on your bed. He yanked your sleep shirt up, and pulled your panties down, before he settled himself in between your legs and attached his mouth to your clit. You moaned in pleasure, but opened your mouth to speak. “I don’t know why you’re even trying,” You said. “You’re just going to be disappointed,” But he gave you a glare and you promptly shut your mouth and let him get on with it.

You felt your high approaching, but you logically knew that it wouldn’t happen. Henry pulled his mouth off of you moments later, and stripped himself out of his clothes. You moaned when you saw his hard rock bounce up against his stomach, before he reached in a bag sitting beside him that you hadn’t seen before. You gasped when he pulled out a small vibrator, no bigger than 5 inches. It was gray, with unicorns and star all over it. He dropped it beside your head, and grabbed his hard cock and line it up with your entrance. He made eye contact with you for a brief second before pushing inside you.

He set a quick pace, and reached over for the vibrator. He pressed the on button and you heard the mechanics inside whir to life. Seconds later, you felt intense pleasure as he pressed the vibrator against your clit, causing your whole body to shake. You cursed as you felt unfamiliar pressure begin to build in your abdomen.

Your hands slid up Henry’s shoulders to try and get him to slow down, but he just grabbed your wrists and pinned them down with his free hand. When he pressed your wrist into the mattress, you got a good look at his face and realized why he wasn't talking to you.

He was mad.

You had seen him angry before, but never to this extent. The two of you had small little fights, but nothing this extreme. Usually, he’d be mad for a few hours, and eventually come up to you and talk to you. Or, if you were mad at him, he’d let you come to him when you were ready. But this time, his face was bright red, and his jaw was clenched. You opened your mouth to say something, but he growled, and you immediately closed your mouth. He had never ‘punished’ you, but you wouldn't put it past him if he got angry enough.

The pressure in your abdomen became almost too much, until you fell over the edge into pure euphoria. Waves of white hot pleasure crashed down onto you like a tsunami, and you screamed out, limbs shaking. Henry grunted as you clenched down on him, but still not speaking.

Henry removed the vibrator from your clit moments later. He hit the off button and tossed it across the bed. He pulled out of you, and laid next to you. His arms came around your waist and pulled you against his chest. His fingers ran up and down your back to help you calm down.

“I’m still upset that you didn't tell me,” He said, and you nodded. “I’m sorry.” You mumbled. He hugged you closer.

“Its okay angel. Just tell me next time when you need help, okay?” “Okay.”

#henry cavill #henry cavill smut #Henry Cavill x Reader #Henry Cavill angst #Henry Cavill imagine #Smut #fluff #august walker #august walker smut #august walker fluff #captain syverson #captain syverson smut #henry cavill angst #submission

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maximons · 3 years

Text

Without You

Summary: Everything seems to be going alright for Wanda Maximoff, but a mission gone horribly awry makes everything crash and burn.

Word Count: 3,101

Genre: Angst

Requested?: Yes

Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, mentions of blood, burns, scarring

A/N: Alright kids, you ready for angst time? My first full out angst fic, oh boy. This ones got no happy ending guys, so do with that what you will. This takes place during Civil War, so spoilers...? I guess? I’d say Happy Reading, but I don’t think you guys will be that happy by the end of this sooo good luck!

Lagos.

That’s the place where everything in Wanda’s life fell apart. Or at least fell apart even further than it had before.

Some of the team were out on a mission. You guys finally managed to track down Rumlow and his gang after about a year of searching. Everything was going fairly well, yes there was some collateral damage, and things didn’t exactly go according to plan, but overall, it looked like you guys would come out of this with a win.

And then, it happened.

Wanda and you had begun to jog up to Steve’s location, where you saw him stare Rumlow down. Something in you just told you that this wasn’t going to go well. You looked at the scene in front of you, and then your gaze fell onto the building behind it. It was too close for comfort.

“Babe, I’m gonna go check that building.” You turned to your girlfriend. “Looks like there could be a lot of people in there, I’m gonna try to get them out.” She looked at you, and then to the building briefly. Part of her wanted to question why when the fight was happening out here, but she knew in your line of work things can be unpredictable.

She nodded. “Okay, be safe.” You nodded back with a small smile, and pecked her on the cheek.

“Always am.” With that, you ran off.

It was only about two or three minutes after you ran in when things went to hell.

Rumlow pulled a pin on his vest, and Wanda reacted as quickly as she could, capturing him mid explosion in her magic. She lifted him up, trying to get him as far away from the people below as possible, but she couldn’t hold it anymore. The explosion went off.

Blowing a huge hole into that building.

Wanda stood there, shocked for a moment over what just happened. Her hand came and slowly covered her mouth, mind going over all the damage she just caused. She vaguely heard Steve calling for fire and rescue, and then it hit her.

You were in there.

“Y/n...” She whispered, still in a state of shock, but she quickly snapped out of it and sprang into action. “Y/n!” She heard Steve yell for her to wait, but she didn’t care. She took off, flying up and landed in one of the building’s destroyed floors.

She did her best to ignore the carnage around her, carnage she caused. She pushed down the bile that was rising in her throat, and continued her search for you.

And then she found you.

You were a super soldier, so luckily you didn’t die from the blast, she could still feel your pulse. But you didn’t look good.

You were lying on the charred floor, unconscious. Half of your suit was burned off, leaving nasty burns all on your arm and torso, some even creeping up your neck and face. Blood also dripped down from an open wound on your temple.

Wanda couldn’t bring herself to care about your appearance, though. You were still alive, and that’s the main thing she cared about right now.

“Don’t worry.” She sobbed out, hand gently caressing your unburned cheek. “You’re okay...you’re gonna be okay...” She tore her gaze away from you for a minute, and looked around. Tears falling at the sight of multiple bodies, people who weren’t as lucky as you.

People who were dead because of her.

“...I’m so sorry...”

The next week was chaos.

You were brought to the compound’s medical facility immediately, doctors working fast to try and save your life. They managed to stabilize you, now it was just a waiting game as to when you would wake up. Wanda would visit you everyday, barely being able to leave your side. Steve managed to convince her that she needed to rest, saying that you wouldn’t want to see her neglecting her needs. She hesitantly complied, and finally went to her room to sleep for the night.

The next morning, the news started reporting the incident.

And of course they blamed her.

Logically, Wanda knew this wasn’t entirely her fault. Rumlow was the one who turned himself into a bomb. She was just trying to save the lives below. That thought brought her little comfort though.

She was still responsible for the lives lost in that building. She was still responsible for you, the love of her life, being severely injured and in a coma.

Maybe they were right.

Steve didn’t let her wallow in that thought for too long though, because he shut the TV off. He sat down and gave her one of his hope speeches, and she appreciated the effort, but she didn’t want to hear it.

“It’s my fault.” She whispered. “All of those people, dead because of me...and Y/n...” She trailed off, tears forming in her eyes. Steve placed a hand on her leg, trying to comfort her.

“You know...she doesn’t blame you, I know she doesn’t.”

“Maybe she should...they all should.”

Steve couldn’t get anything else out, as Vision phased in the room and told them of the arrival of Secretary Ross.

As if things couldn’t get any worse, he had told them about the Sokovia Accords. Wanda hated the idea, forcing heroes to register with the government, essentially making them puppets for them. She knew you would hate it too, you never were one to trust the government.

“Look, we understand where you’re coming from, but if it weren’t for us, there’d be a lot more blood spilled.” Sam argued.

“Tell that to the innocent civilians in that Lagos hospital building.” Ross argued back. “Oh wait, you can’t.”

“If it weren’t for Wanda, hundreds of people in the streets below would have been killed.” Steve cut in. “If it weren’t for Y/n, hundreds of more people would have been in that building.”

“And look where that landed her.”

Wanda had enough. She shot up from her chair, and stormed out of the room.

She went straight to your hospital room, your still unconscious body covered in bandages. She pulled up a chair beside your bed, hand going to grip yours. She tried to speak, but couldn’t bring herself to form the words. So she just rested her head on your joined hands and cried.

The next few weeks saw the Avengers falling apart, divided over the accords. Wanda was especially disappointed in Natasha’s decision, given that you two were best friends.

Wanda hasn’t left the compound. Most of her time was spent visiting you and sleeping as best she could. Your burns had begun healing, but barely. They still left pretty nasty scars. Your breathing had improved, which satisfied the doctors. They had said you could wake up any moment now, Wanda just hoped it was soon.

The next day, Wanda walked into the kitchen to find Vision cooking. She found that odd, since she knew he didn’t eat, but he explained that he was making it for her. You used to cook for her a lot, and after a few disasters, you finally got the recipe down. Vision’s was no where near as good as yours, but she appreciates the effort.

After a conversation about their powers and their fear of them, Wanda volunteered to go to the store to pick up some paprika that would greatly help the dish. Vision stopped her.

“Vision...are you not letting me leave?”

“It’s a matter of safety.”

“I can handle myself.”

Vision stopped her again. “Not yours. Mr. Stark would like to avoid the possibility of another public incident.”

Wanda looked at the synthezoid in disbelief. “I’m not an out of control time bomb. It was an accident.”

“I know. I do, but...you powers are very unpredictable. You are also...vulnerable. My scanners have indicated you are, how you say, ‘on edge’. You have been ever since Miss L/n was admitted in the medical wing.”

Wanda’s gaze turned into a harsh glare. “I know that human emotion is a foreign concept to you Vision, but trust me, if your girlfriend was ever put in a coma because of you...being ‘on edge’ is the least you would be.”

Without waiting for a response, Wanda turned around and stormed off. She headed to the one place that her feet often dragged her to the last weeks. Your bedside.

She sat and took a hold of your hand. She stared at you for a moment before she spoke. “Hey, baby. Things have been...hard without you to say the least. Not that this wouldn’t be hard anyway, but everything is falling apart. These stupid accords are ruining everything. Tony has become a government pet, Nat joining him, Steve is off doing who knows what, and now...I’m locked in.” She paused. “You know, as much as I wish more than anything that you were awake and by my side right now...part of me is glad that you wouldn’t have to see your family fall apart like this. It’d break your heart...” She stayed for a few more moments, staring at your face and taking in your features once again. She then leaned down to kiss your hand. “I love you.” With that, she left.

Later that night, Wanda was back in the main room of the compound. You still haven’t woken up, she just learned she was essentially on house arrest, so she was trying to find ways to find ways to distract herself. She was reading a book, when she heard a loud explosion go off outside. She walked over to the window to take a look, Vision joining her a few moments later.

“What is it?”

“Stay here please.”

Wanda was left alone for a moment, before she felt a presence behind her. She quickly grabbed hold of the knife on the table, and flinging it towards the new presence. She halted it when she saw who it was.

Clint.

The next few minutes passed by like a blur. Clint was convincing her to come help Steve, Vision came back in but was trapped, Wanda hesitated and Clint gave her one of those hope speeches. She was about to decline, before he said one last thing.

“You know, if Y/n was awake...I know she’d side with Steve, and she’d only hope you’d do the same.”

Was it manipulative? Possibly, but he was also right. You would have sided with Steve, no question. Doing what you could to help. She thought on it for a few more moments, before she nodded. They were about to leave before Vision broke free. The two men fought, and before she knew it, she was sending the synthezoid several floors down and into the ground.

She went to her room, quickly packing her suit and anything else she thought she would need. She went back out to meet Clint, about to leave, but she stopped.

“Wait! I gotta see Y/n first.”

Clint sighed, but knew he couldn’t deny her of this. “Alright, make it quick.”

She booked it to your hospital room. You were lying there, same as you have been for a while. She quickly surged forward grabbed your hand, not bothering to sit. She knew they didn’t have time.

“Alright, baby. I’m gonna go out for a bit, okay? I’m not sure when I’ll be back, but...I’m going to do what’s right. I’m going to fight. I finally ‘got off my ass’ as you would say.” She chuckled, but it held no real joy behind it. “I just hope you’d be proud of me...and I just hope that I can come back to see you-”

Wanda cut herself off when she felt you begin to move. All of a sudden your face shifted, and you began to turn your head.

“Y/n?...”

You began to open your eyes slowly, head slowly lifting off your pillow. Your eyes looked around, trying to adjust to the brightness of the room. Before you could even look at Wanda though, you began coughing.

Wanda rushed to poor you a glass of water, knowing your mouth would be dry from not using it for a while. She handed it to you, quickly, and you slowly raised your hand to take it. As you began to drink, Wanda couldn’t help but smile. You were finally awake. She was beyond relieved. She was put in a rough spot now, she knew she had to meet Clint so they could go, but...you were finally awake. She couldn’t leave you.

“Wanda, we gotta go!” She heard Clint yell, and without tearing her eyes away from you, she yelled back.

“In a minute! Y/n just woke up!”

She didn’t hear a response from the man, but she heard footsteps quickly making its way towards your room.

You finished drinking your water and placed the cup on the bedside table. You began to try to sit up, but Wanda rushed to your side to help.

“Here you go, easy.”

When you fully sat up, you took in the appearance of the woman next to you. You smiled. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” She breathed out. You looked her in the eyes, smile still on both your faces. But, Wanda’s smile dropped instantly at the next words that came out of your mouth.

“Sorry, hi, I’m Y/n. You probably already knew that though.” You chuckled nervously. “Are you one of the nurses?”

Wanda froze. No. This couldn’t be happening. The doctors told her that Amnesia was a possibility since you hit your head on impact from the blast, but it never seemed like a real threat. She stared at you, jaw slacked for a few more moments.

“Um, hello?...Oh! Are you my doctor? Sorry, I didn’t mean to assume.”

Wanda snapped out of it when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned her head to see it was Clint. You spoke up again before she could say anything though.

“Oh, hey, are you a nurse? Or doctor?”

Realization filled Clint’s face, but he held it together. He simply shook his head.

“Oh...so, is someone supposed to help me or...?” You trailed off.

Clint looked to Wanda, who was still in shock, tears beginning to form in her eyes. He knew he had to take over, get them out as soon as possible. “Sorry, Y/n. We’ll get your nurse to come and check on you. Glad to see you’re awake.” Before you could respond, he quickly rushed out of the room, pulling Wanda with him.

Wanda finally let herself break down, and cried in the van. She barely had time to process everything before they picked up a man name Scott and flew to the airport to meet Steve.

Steve broke down the plan and the team went separate ways to suit up and get in position. Except Wanda. Steve was about to go get himself ready, but paused when he saw the witch frozen in place.

“Wanda? You okay?” Wanda simply shook her head and looked up at him, he could see the tears in her eyes. “What happened?”

“Y/n woke up.”

Steve raised his eyebrows in shock. “She did? That’s great-” He was cut off when Wanda let out a sob. He then put two and two together, something was wrong. “...What was it?”

“She...doesn’t remember anything...doesn’t remember me...”

Steve sighed. He was saddened by the news as well, you and him were very close, both being super soldiers and all. He couldn’t even imagine what Wanda was going through in this moment though, so he put on a brave face. He went over to the witch and wrapped an arm around her. “Y/n is strong...when this is over, we’ll go see her and start-” Steve was cut off again when Wanda shook her head.

“Steve...you and I both know this isn’t gonna end with us just being able to go back...” She looked up at him. He was about to speak up again, when he heard Sam in his ear.

“Cap, Tony and Rhodey are flying in now. You good to go?”

Steve looked to Wanda, knowing she heard him too since they all had coms. She nodded. “On my way.” He turned to leave, before giving Wanda one last look. “Whatever happens, it’ll be okay.”

It wasn’t.

The fight at the airport was beyond tiresome, and they lost. Steve and Bucky got away to handle the other Winter Soldiers, but the rest of the team was captured.

So now here she was, sitting in a cell in a high security prison in the middle of the ocean...with a straight jacket and shock collar on. Wanda couldn’t even be upset about it. She was numb. She’s already lost everything she possibly could. Her parents, her brother, her country, and now...you. She couldn’t bring herself to care whether or not she wasted away in this cell. Maybe she deserved to.

But of course, she couldn’t even have that for long, as Steve broke them out a few days later.

Up on the quinjet with Steve and the rest of the team, she sat alone, staring out the window watching the dark clouds pass by. After a few moments, she felt a presence next to her. She looked over to see who it was. Natasha.

“What are you doing here?” Wanda asked, looking back out the window.

“It’s a long story.” She answered. “Steve told me what happened, I...I’m not even sure what to say. I am so sorry Wanda.” Wanda merely nodded, not trusting her voice right now. Natasha took a deep breath and continued. “Y’know...I can pull some strings, the ones I have left anyway. Get Y/n relocated to be with us. I know she doesn’t remember anything right now, but-”

“No.” Wanda cut her off, surprising the redhead.

“Wha...what do you mean ‘no’?”

Wanda had thought about it, she’s thought about it the entire time she was in the Raft. She would love nothing more than to see you again, to hold you and help you on your recovery, but...she couldn’t. She was a wanted fugitive now, and you were only in this predicament because of her...she had to be selfless here. She couldn’t bring you into this life, not when you were missing chunks of your own.

“I mean no.” She said, looking up into Natasha’s eyes, tears pooling in her own. “She’s better off.”

And with that, Wanda got up, walking towards the back of the jet to be alone. She took a deep breath, and prepared herself. Preparing herself for a new life as a fugitive on the run. And most importantly...

Preparing for a life without you.

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you

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karahalloway · 3 years

Text

Thanksgiving - Part 2

Fandom: TRR - (Un)Common Attraction universe

Pairing: Drake Walker x F!OC (Harper Gale)

Series: Thanksgiving

Synopsis: Harper and Drake fly to Bozeman, MT to spend their first Thanksgiving together with Harper's family.

Word count: 5,300

Warnings: M (swearing, angst, fluff)

A/N: So... This was supposed to be a one-shot, that turned into a two-parter that will now end up being a three-part mini series 🙈 I tried to squeeze the rest of the story into this follow-up post, but it there is just too much left to cover, so I will be writing an unplanned third part to wrap this fic up. As before, many of the situations referenced in this fic are based on real life. You can find a more general Author’s Notes in Part 1 and some more specific notes at the end of this instalment.

Something’s off.

What, I can’t quite determine, caught as I am halfway between waking and dreaming... But as I slowly float towards consciousness, I become increasingly certain that something is... if not exactly wrong, but not quite right either.

Then it comes to me.

I’m cold.

Which can mean only one thing...

Opening my eyes, I find the other side of the bed conspicuously empty.

I frown.

Where is Drake?

A rustle of clothing from behind me catches my attention. Pushing myself up, I see that my wayward human radiator is in the process of pulling on a pair of tracksuit bottoms.

"What time is it?" I mumble, rubbing my eyes as I reach for the switch of the My Little Pony bedside light.

"Early," he informs me. "Go back to sleep."

"Where... are you going?" I ask around a yawn.

"For a run," he replies, pulling some socks from his suitcase.

I open a disbelieving eye mid-stretch. "On Thanksgiving morning?"

"Yup."

"Why?"

"Because if last night was any indication of what today has in store for us, then I need to get some cardio in. Otherwise—"

"You're worried you'll get fat?"

"No," he scoffs, reaching into his suitcase for a hoodie. "But I want to work down yesterday's calories before piling on round two. Plus we spent the whole of yesterday sitting, so—"

"You're worried you'll get fat," I surmise with a smirk.

"Hey. This..." he declares, indicating his ridged abs, "...doesn't just happen by itself. It takes dedication and discipline."

"Which is very much appreciated," I assure him as he yanks the hoodie down. "But, surely you can take one day off?"

"Yeah, probably," he acknowledges. "But, I've been up for about an hour already because of the jetlag. So, may as well make use of the extra time. I should be back before y'all get up."

"Okay," I concede, pulling the blanket up my chest to ward off the morning chill, given that I’m still naked after last night's impromptu lovemaking. "Just watch out for moose."

"Moose?"

"Yeah. They sometimes wander into the neighbourhood, especially around dawn and dusk. And when it's dark, you basically don't see them until you're right on top of one."

He flashes me a sceptical look as he roots around his backpack. "Aren't they just like... big deer?"

"Yeah. But with one major difference."

He quirks a wry brow as he locates his headphones. "They have bigger antlers?"

"They will charge you if they think you're a threat. Especially if you happen upon a mother with a calf."

He mulls this over for a second before nodding. "Right. Stay clear of the big ass, murderous elk. Anything else?"

"You probably want to take my keys."

"I was planning on climbing out your window, actually..."

I throw the pillow at him.

He snatches it out of the air and flings it back at me in one smooth motion.

"You are way too awake for whatever time it is..." I grumble, catching the pillow just before it hit my face.

"Told ya," he smirks, grabbing a pair of trainers from his bag. "I've been up for an hour already. Where are your keys?"

"In my bag..." After a moment's contemplation, I add, "Which is still on the bench by the front door."

"Yeah, I remember," he nods, stepping over to drop a kiss in my hair. "I'll be back in a bit."

I grab his hand to give it a squeeze. "Just be careful. Not all the roads have sidewalks."

"I will," he assures me, tightening his fingers around mine. "Love you."

"Love you, too."

He leans in to press a soft kiss against my lips before flicking the bedside light off and making his way quietly out of the room.

I flop back onto my pillow.

But, as groggy as I am feeling after jetting across eight time zones, falling asleep again without Drake's warm and comforting presence next to me is proving to be difficult.

So, after the third failed attempt of trying to roll over to get comfy, I throw the blankets back and step onto the cold hardwood floor.

Since I never made it to the bathroom yesterday, I decide to take advantage of the fact that my brothers are still snoring soundly and there would be no line up for the shower. Flicking on the bedside lamp again, I pad over to my suitcase to grab my toiletry bag before filching the shirt that Drake had worn yesterday to wear as a makeshift dressing gown on the off chance that I end up bumping into someone in the hallway.

I make a quick pit stop at the linen closet to grab a towel for myself and Drake — as he'll no doubt want a shower when he gets back from his run — before stepping into the bathroom and locking the door.

Tapping the light-switch on (as well as the underfloor heating), I pull a face when I catch sight of myself in the mirror. I must've drooled into my hair or something, because one side is sticking up at all sorts of odd angles, while the other side looks like it had been run over by a steam iron, falling down my shoulder in flat, lifeless strands.

Dropping my toiletry bag onto the vanity — that is littered with an entire Walgreen's-worth of men's grooming products courtesy of my brothers, who still live at home — I turn the shower on and begin pulling out the items I need while I wait for the water to warm up.

After waiting a minute or two, I test the water before stepping into the shower and pulling the door closed. I sigh contentedly as the hot spray hits my body, feeling it start to warm my bones. I'd forgotten how cold the house got before the furnace kicked on in the mornings.

Opening my eyes, I glance at the shower door, half-expecting Drake to be standing there, in the process of pulling it back, but all I see is the increasingly hazy outline of the bathroom as the steam from the shower fogs the glass over.

He really had been serious about going for a run then...

I shake my head wryly.

I’m never going to be one of those people who would willingly to forego sleep on a cold morning in order to subject themselves to a workout before the sun was even up... unless that workout happened to be a bout of lazy, morning sex, followed by breakfast in bed.

But, that's why Drake has a body to rival that of Chris Evans' Captain America, while I — even though able to pull off a bikini and low-cut dresses — am never going to be able to squeeze myself into a skin-tight bodysuit à la Black Widow.

I finish off my ablutions and step out onto the now warm bathmat, happy that my parents had opted for this luxurious upgrade when they'd reno'd all the bathrooms a few years back. Wrapping one of the towels around myself, I step over to the vanity and begin pulling out the toiletries I'd need. I apply some moisturiser and some basic make-up before giving my hair a vigorous towel dry and styling it into loose waves.

Satisfied with my appearance, I head back to my room to get dressed. Since we'll be spending most of the morning prepping for dinner, I opt for a loose-fitting plaid shirt and yoga pants, some thick socks and my fuzzy Ugg boots. I also pull on a snuggly, knitted cardigan for good measure.

Stepping out onto the hallway again, I hear the sound of clattering dishes rise up the landing.

Nana’s up early too, by the sounds of it...

My grandmother always makes us a hearty breakfast of bacon, eggs, sausages and her famous pancakes on Thanksgiving morning, so we can get through all the cooking without needing to stop for lunch.

I feel my mouth start to water at the mere thought of it all.

"Morning, Nana," I greet as I step into the kitchen.

The cracked egg she's holding goes flying, sending the sticky whites and yolk everywhere. "Good Lord, Harper!" she exclaims, clutching her chest. "You gave me a right fright!"

"Sorry..." I apologise. "Didn't mean to sneak up on you."

"What are you doing up so early? It's barely gone 5am..."

"Jetlag," I inform her, opening up one of the cupboards. If I’m going to make it through dinner and the game today, I’m going to need some caffeine, so I don’t end up crashing out at 6pm.

Nana nods in understanding as she salvages what egg innards she can from the counter to scoop into her mixing bowl. "Your beau still sleeping, though?"

I shake my head as I extract the jar containing the coffee. "No. He's been up even longer."

"Where is he, then? Did he not want to join us?"

"He will," I assure her, measuring some ground beans out into the bottom of the stovetop coffee maker that my parents still insisted on using over a coffee pod machine, or even a drip coffee maker. "Once he gets back from his run."

"He went for a run?" gasps Nana, as if the very concept was offensive. "On Thanksgiving morning?"

"That's what I said," I reply ruefully, filling the coffee maker up with water and setting it on the gas stovetop. "But he wanted to go, so..."

Nana beats the eggs into the rest of pancake batter thoughtfully. "Must really like running, then."

"Yeah," I agree, leaning against the counter. "He's weird like that. Do you need help with anything? Seeing as I'm up and all?"

"You start warming up the gridle. Batter's almost done."

Working in tandem, Nana and I make quick work of throwing together the usual Thanksgiving breakfast for eight people, catching up on each other’s lives as we bustle around the kitchen.

"You're up early, Harp," greets Brody, strolling into the kitchen and making a beeline for the coffee. "Bed's not as comfy as in that fancy Palace of yours?"

"We don't live at the Palace," I remind him, noting the manila folder under his arm. "Are you heading out?"

"Yeah..." he mutters, pouring himself a large mug of coffee and dumping a couple of packets of sweetener and some creamer into it. "Need to drop some paperwork off for one of the detectives I work with."

"On Thanksgiving morning?" I ask sceptically.

Brody shrugs. "He pulled the short straw when they were dolling out the shit shifts... Sorry, Nana."

She waves a hand dismissively. "You're a grown man, Brody. You can talk how you want. Don't you want a bite to eat before you go?"

He shakes his head. "I'll eat when I get back."

Nana tuts disapprovingly. "At least take one pancake."

Brody drains his coffee. "Alright. Thanks, Nana." He holds up the pancake in salute as he makes towards the door.

"Thank your sister," she corrects him. "She's the one who cooked them!"

"Thnkth, sthith!" he calls around a mouthful as he pulls on his boots.

"You made the batter, though," I remind her, taking a sip of my own coffee.

"That's the easy part," winks Nana, giving me a pat.

"Whatcha doin' up before the sun, sis?" asks Tyler, sauntering into the kitchen. "That like... never happens!"

"Helping Nana make breakfast," I inform him over the rim of my cup. "You're welcome..."

"Appreciated. But, don't think that this..." he jerks a thumb at the food decking the dining table, "is gonna get you outta potato peeling du— Ow!"

"You may want to rethink that statement, buster," Nana informs him archly, hefting her wooden spatula meaningfully. "Seeing as you didn't crawl your lazy butt outta of bed until after you could smell the bacon!"

Tyler rubs the back of his head bashfully. "Fine... I'll do the potatoes... Again..."

"Hey, Nana!" greets Justin, appearing as well. "Harp. T. Where's everyone else?"

"Brody had a work errand, and Drake's gone for a run," I inform him. "No idea about Mom and Dad."

"What's he runnin'?" asks Nana. "A marathon? Shouldn't he've been back by now?"

"Probably..." I admit, glancing at the clock on oven.

6:28 am.

I feel the blood drain from my face.

He's been gone over ninety minutes – almost twice as long as he usually goes for – and I hadn't even noticed! What if he got lost...? Or tripped over something in the dark? Or run over? Ohmygod! What if he'd tried to call me for help?

I smash my coffee mug down onto the counter, probably cracking it in the process, before shoving my brothers out of the way to get to my phone that was still in my bag on the bench. Ripping the zip open, I shove my hand into the bag, desperately searching for my phone.

I lay hands on the cool plastic, just as the door yawns open.

"Oh, thank God!" I gasp, dropping my phone.

"Whoa...!" Drake exclaims, staggering back as I throw myself at him. "Easy there, girl."

"Are you okay?" I demand, pulling back to look him up and down.

"Yeah, I'm f—"

"Where the hell where you?!"

He quirks a brow at me. "Out for a run?"

"For an hour and a half?"

His brows furrow. "I wasn't gone that long... Was I?"

"It's six thirty!" I almost shout. "Where did you go? To Billings and back?"

He's still frowning at me in confusion. "That can't be right..."

"Well, it sure as hell is!" I declare, falling against him again as I feel hot tears of relief stream down my face. "When Nana told me the time, I nearly lost it, thinking you'd gotten lost... or hurt... or..."

He wraps his arms around me. "I'm sorry, baby. I didn't mean to be out for so long. But, I had to take a detour on the way back..."

"Detour?" I ask, snapping my gaze up to his. "Why? What happened?"

"Ran into a goddamn moose."

My eyes widen. "You what?!"

"You didn't tell me that they smelled bad enough to gag a maggot."

"Yeah, they do stin—" I suddenly feel the blood ice over in my veins. "Wait. How close did you get!"

He does some quick mental math. "Three... maybe four feet?"

I stare at him in disbelief before I feel the palm of my hand connect with his chest. "Did. You. Not. Listen... To anything I said?!"

"Hey! Hey!" he protests, trying to fend off the blow that accompanied each word. "Cool it, girl! I'm fine."

"How?" I demand. "How are you fine? You should be knocked out! Or dead!"

"It was a bit surprised to see me, I'll admit, but after I talked to it for a bit, it seemed t—"

My eyes nearly pop out of my head. "You did what?!"

"I talked to it," he repeats, as if it was perfectly normal to engage a thousand-pound wild animal in conversation. "Until it calmed down."

My jaw moves up and down soundlessly before I manage to spit out, "It's not a horse!"

"So?" he shrugs nonchalantly. "It worked. It went back to stuffing its face and I backed up ‘round the corner."

Words fail me as I stare at him open-mouthed. The nerve of this guy...

"Is... everything okay?"

The sound of Mom's voice from behind me rouses me from my stunned stupor.

Glancing behind me, I see my entire family (minus Brody, of course) staring at Drake and me with various expressions ranging from nosy curiosity through to troubled concern.

"There was an awful lot of shouting..." she adds, flicking her eyes between the two of us.

"Sorry..." I mutter, tucking my hair behind my ear. "Drake just freaked me out a bit."

"A bit?" asks Justin sceptically. "Try a lot!"

"Okay," I concede with a huff. "He freaked me out a helluva lot."

"How did I freak you out?" Drake protests.

"You ran into a moose!"

There is a collective intake of breath from behind me.

"I didn't plan on it!" Drake points out. "Like you said, they're impossible to see in the dark."

"But, where did you go?" deplores Mom.

"He went for a run," Tyler informs her.

"On Thanksgiving morning?" she gasps.

Drake groans. "Sweet Jesus... She sounds exactly like you."

Laughter bubbles up from my family.

"We havin' a porch party I don't know about?" asks Brody, appearing behind Drake.

"Very much an unplanned one," I tell him as I step out of the doorway.

"Come on, son," declares Dad. "Let's get you in the house. After a wild encounter like that, you probably want some coffee."

"Wild encounter?" queries Brody, shutting the door behind him. "What the heck happened?"

"And breakfast!" adds Nana. "Need to feed the poor boy up after all that time he spent running around in the cold."

"I'll fill you in later..." I tell him with a roll my eyes.

"Actually," says Drake, pulling his sneakers off. "It's surprisingly mild... and humid out there. I thought it was supposed to be like Hoff up here in the winter."

"That's what all you southerners think," scoffs Justin. "But that only applies to the Midwest."

"We've had three dumps of snow already," adds Tyler. "But the Chinook's melted it all."

"Chinook?" asks Drake.

"It's a warm wind that comes in off the Pacific," I tell him. "Means we're not stuck in a deep freeze all winter."

"Sit, sit!" commands Nana. "Or it'll all go cold."

"Y'all start," advises Drake. "I'm just gonna run upstairs and get changed."

"Oh, don't worry about that, honey!" declares Mom, shoving him into a seat. "We raised three boys who used to stink the house out after hockey and football practice!"

"Gee, thanks, Mom," grumbles Justin.

"Not to mention after spending the day down at the Harrolds' place during the summer!" I add, pulling a chair out. "You always came back smelling like a stable!"

"It's what happens when you spend the day shovelling shit..." point out Tyler.

"And rolling around in it," grins Brody, punching his younger brother in the arm.

Tyler's eyes narrow. "You friggin' pushed me into it!"

"Hey," retorts Brody, holding his hands up innocently. "Not my fault you tripped over your own shovel."

"Okay, that's enough," chides Dad, seeing that an argument was about to erupt between my brothers. "We have a lot to get through today, so let's start eating."

We all dig into the feast of bacon, eggs, sausages and Nana's chocolate chip and cinnamon pancakes.

"So, I'm guessing these are the pancakes that you're willing to die for?" notes Drake as he spears two with his fork from the pile.

"Yup!" I confirm with a grin, drizzling my own bacon-topped tower with maple syrup. "And so will you, once you've tried them!"

He spoons some eggs into his plate with a chuckle. "You sound damn sure of yourself."

I slant him a glance as I cut into the stack. "You doubting my honest review, or my Nana's recipe?"

"Neither. But I can count on one hand all the food I've ever had that I'd be willing to lay down my life for. So, it's quite the high benchmark to hit." He takes a bite and chews thoughtfully for a moment. "That said... You’re right. These are pretty special."

"Told ya," I smirk, lifting my own slice of pancake to my mouth. "Nana's pancakes are the best."

"Even after all the fancy food you got to eat at the Palace?" queries Mom.

"Especially after all the fancy food we were forced to eat at the Palace," I correct.

Dad frowns. "Don't you normally have to pay an arm and a leg for that kind of grub?"

"Yeah," nods Drake. "But you can only eat so much caviar and amuse bouche before you start craving real food."

"Nothing beats homemade food cooked with love," declares Nana sagely.

"So, if Palace grub's a pass, what other food's made it into your top five?" asks Justin.

"Dad's secret recipe BBQ sauce, for one," replies Drake. "I'd give anything to have that again."

I look up at him sympathetically. "He never showed you how to make it?"

He shakes his head sadly. "Didn't get around to it. And he didn't think to write it down anywhere, so..."

I feel my heart constrict as I reach out to lay a comforting hand in his knee. "I'm sorry..."

"It's fine," he mutters stoically, flashing me a wan half-smile. "I'll get it right one day."

"Have you tried adding whiskey?" asks Justin around a mouthful. "All the best BBQ sauces have booze in them..."

"Yeah, I've—"

"And you're definitely using apple cider vinegar, instead of plain white vinegar?" pipes up Tyler.

"Yup."

I raise a brow at my brother. "Since when do you know the difference between the two?"

"Since that time I dated a trainee chef and she showed me how—"

"Nobody wants to know what the two of you did in the kitchen!" declares Brody loudly. "And anyway... Barbecue sauces are all about the spices. You tried cumin?"

"Yeah."

"Celery?"

Drake nods.

"Cilantro?"

I stare at Brody in disbelief. Since when did he know so much about the nuances of BBQ sauce?!

"What about cinnamon?" chimes in Nana.

Drake's brows furrow. "Cinnamon?"

"Of course!" she affirms. "I put cinnamon in everything! It's got a bit of sweet... it's got a bit of spice... It's my go-to secret ingredient."

Drake takes a moment to digest this. "No. I haven't..."

"Might be what you're missing, then," she winks, tapping the side of her nose conspiratorially.

"Yeah... Maybe," he muses thoughtfully. "Thank you, ma'am. Will definitely give it a try."

"Oh, there's no need to be so formal," she declares with a dismissive wave of her hand. "You're basically family already."

"Even so," smiles Drake. "My parents always told me that a little bit of respect can get you a long way."

"Try telling that to these three..." grumbles Dad.

"Hey! We got manners!" objects Justin.

"Yeah..." mutters Dad. "When it suits you... or you want something."

Laughter echoes around the table as we polish up breakfast.

"Right," declares Dad, popping his glasses onto his nose once we've cleared the table and sat back down again. "Task assignments."

"I want Harper for the apple pie," announces Nana.

Dad nods as he jots this down on his notepad. "Leigh and I will manage the turkey, the stuffing and the gravy. That leaves chopping firewood..."

"I'll do that," declares Brody.

"...vegetables..."

"Dibs!" cries Tyler.

"Hey!" objects Justin. "I was on potato duty last year!"

"And I had it two years in a row before that!" retorts Tyler.

"I can do it," offers Drake.

Everyone's eyes swivel disbelievingly onto him.

"You...want to do the potatoes?" asks Tyler.

"Sure. Why not?" shrugs Drake. "I mean... it's just peeling and chopping, right? Or am I missing something?"

"The sheer volume you have to get through!" exclaims Justin.

Drake raises a quizzical brow at me.

"There's eight of us," I tell him. "And we eat a lot of mash."

"That ain't a problem."

"Are you sure, honey?" asks Mom. "You can help with something else if you'd—"

"No!" cry Tyler and Justin simultaneously.

"I mean..." adds Tyler sheepishly. "He offered..."

"And confirmed his choice!" adds Justin.

Dad glances at Drake questioningly. "You sure, son?"

"Yessir."

"Okay, Drake's down for potatoes," declares Dad, before turning to face Justin and Tyler. "But once the two of you are done with the vegetables, you're gonna help him, y'hear?"

"Dammit..." mutters Tyler under his breath as he slumps back into his chair to the accompaniment of Justin's groan of disappointment.

"Oh, man up, you two!" huffs Nana. "It's just a sack of potatoes! And with three of you working, you'll have it done in no time!"

"Might even have time to go out and play some ball before dinner if you're quick," says Mom.

"Right," announces Dad, clapping his hands together by way of emphasis. "Let's hustle!"

As everyone shuffles off to start on their designated tasks, Drake pulls me off to the side. "I'm just gonna run upstairs and get changed."

"Okay," I reply, dropping a kiss on his cheek. "There's a towel on the bed for you."

"Thanks, Gale."

"Hey!" shouts Tyler. "Where d'you think you're going, Mr I-Want-To-Do-The-Potatoes?"

"Don't worry," chuckles Drake. "I'll be back in five."

"You better be!" warns Justin, appearing with the sack of potatoes from the garage. "Potatoes don't peel themselves, y'know!"

"Who used the oven last?" queries Mom as Drake disappears upstairs.

"You?" replies Dad, pulling the turkey from the freezer. "Why?"

"It's flashing me."

I try and fail to suppress a snort as I step towards the pantry to grab the apples for the pie. "I'm pretty sure it's not..."

"Then how do you explain this?" she deplores, waving her hand at the display.

"Lemme see..." sighs Dad, pulling his glasses from the breast pocket of his shirt again before proceeding to press random buttons on the control panel and opening and shutting the door. "Hmm... It's not turning on, is it?"

"What's wrong with it?" asks Justin, glancing over Dad's shoulder.

"No idea..." he grumbles.

"It was working fine yesterday," says Mom, peering at the controls accusingly.

"Yeah, but it's not working now, is it?" huffs Dad. "I think we'll need to call someone."

"On Thanksgiving morning?" scoffs Nana, elbows-deep in pie crust. "Hah! Good luck being able to reach anyone who can fix an oven!"

"There won't be a Thanksgiving if the oven's not fixed!" Dad reminds her, pulling his phone out of his pocket as he strides off to make some calls.

"Could always do a barbecue..." muses Tyler.

"Yeah..." I snort. "Have fun roasting a full turkey on the grill!"

"You'd obviously chop it up first..."

"It's still frozen!"

"Is... everything okay?" asks Drake, reappearing dressed in faded Wranglers and a new forest green plaid shirt that I wanted to instantly tear off him.

"Mom broke the oven," Justin advises.

"It wasn't me!" she protests.

"You used it last," Tyler reminds her.

"So?"

"So... it means you broke it," Justin declares.

"Oh, leave your poor mother alone!" orders Nana. "These things happen."

"Not on Thanksgiving!" cries Mom. "When Drake and Harper are here!"

"Do you know what's wrong?" Drake asks in a whisper as my family continue throwing stressy barbs at each other.

"It won't turn on," I tell him.

"Is it showing some kind of error code?"

"Mom said it was flashing at her... So, maybe?"

"Mind if I take a look?" asks Drake, loud enough for Mom and my brothers to hear.

"Can you fix it?" asks Mom hopefully.

"What are you?" scoffs Tyler. "An oven whisperer? Ow!"

"He's trying to help!" Nana chastises him, dipping her mixing spoon back into the bowl. "Unlike you..."

"It's no good..." huffs Dad, stepping back into the kitchen. "All the calls are going straight to voicemail..."

"Told you," preens Nana, buttering a pie dish with vindicatory smugness.

"What are we going to do!" cries Mom, grabbing Dad by the front panels of his shirt.

Dad sighs. "Guess we'll just have t—"

"Fixed it."

Stunned silence falls onto the kitchen as everyone's gaze snaps onto Drake.

"Just needed a self-clean," he declares, straightening himself up. "Should be ready to go in a—"

"You angel!" cries Mom, throwing herself at him like he was the Messiah.

Drake staggers back in shocked surprise, but manages to keep his footing as Mom envelopes him in a relived hug.

"You saved Thanksgiving!" she gushes, pulling back to cup Drake's face reverently in her hands.

"Yeah..." smiles Dad. "Guess we do owe you one, son."

A rare flush rises up Drake's neck. "Honestly... it's—"

"Don't think this gets you out of potato duty!" warns Tyler, jabbing a half-peeled carrot at him.

"Jesus Christ, T!" I snap, throwing a handful of apple skins at him. "Chillax about the damn potatoes already!"

"Yeah, seriously, dude," mutters Justin, elbowing him in the ribs. "Anyone would think you've got some kind of weird potato paranoia..."

"It's not a paranoia!"

"Just a really bizarre obsession..." declares Brody, stepping into the kitchen to flick his brother in the back of the head with his finger.

Tyler whirls around in aggravation. “Can everyone stop hitting me!"

"You done with the logs already?" queries Dad, unwrapping the turkey from the packaging, studiously ignoring Tyler.

"About halfway," Brody replies, grabbing a glass from the cabinets and filling it up with water. "It's damn hot out there..."

"And it will only get hotter," declares Nana, rolling her pastry out onto the countertop. "Supposed to get up to 60 degrees by the afternoon."

"So much for all the snow you warned me about," mutters Drake with an accusatory glance in my direction. "Might as well be in Texas right now."

"Oh, it's coming!" Brody assures him, depositing his empty glass in the sink. "We'll be snowed in come nightfall."

Drake raises a sceptical brow as he resumes peeling. “If you say so…”

“We know so,” confirms Nana with a wink.

The rest of the morning passes quickly as we all hunker down on the chores. And by lunchtime, the turkey's roasting happily away, the potatoes and vegetables are soaking in bowls of water, and Nana and I have assembled three apple pies ready to shove into oven as soon as the turkey comes out.

"You kids go take a break," advises Mom. "Dad and I will keep an eye on the turkey."

"Just be back in about an hour to square everything away," adds Dad. "So we can finish eating before the game kicks off."

"You want to go outside and throw the football around for a bit?" I ask Drake as I wash my hands in the sink.

"Will you be on the sidelines cheering?" he drawls, snaking his hands around my waist.

I quirk a brow at him as I reach for the dishcloth to dry my hands. "Do I look like a stuck-up cheerleader to you?"

"Admittedly not in this getup..." His fingers slide around the waistband of my leggings. "You don't have a short skirt upstairs, do you?"

I smack his hand. "Dream on, cowboy. I'm not dressing up as a cheerleader to play football."

His hands still. "You're playing as well?"

I look up at him with a smirk. "Damn right, I am!"

"Thought you weren't into football."

"Just because I don't watch it obsessively-compulsively like you and Brody, doesn't mean I don't like playing it. I've got a mean throw, I'll have you know..."

I feel his stubble brush against the shell of my ear as he whispers, "You never fail to surprise, girl."

"One of the many things you love about me, I'm sure," I smile, turning around to loop my arms around his neck.

"It does keep things interesting..." he admits, mocha eyes boring into mine as he slides his hands surreptitiously underneath the bottom of my shirt.

"Quit distracting him, Harp!" calls Justin, striding past with the football. "It's game time!"

"We don't know which team he's on yet!" quips Tyler. "Maybe she should keep distracting him."

"Or motivating him," I add with a knowing grin. "Works both ways, y'know."

"Don't I know it..." murmurs Drake, dropping his hands reluctantly.

"You know I like to keep you on your toes, cowboy," I purr, dropping a kiss on his cheek. "Just gonna grab some sneakers and I'll be out in a minute."

"Sure I can't convince you to grab that skirt as well?" he asks in a low voice. "Seeing as it's basically tropical outside..."

"You two coming or what?" hollers Brody, poking his head around the corner.

"Guess you'll just have to wait and see," I tell Drake with a wink as I move towards the stairs.

Thanksgiving continues in Part 3!

A/N: So, to answer your inevitable questions/comments...😅

(i) The moose. Yes, moose can sometimes be sighted in Bozeman and they are friggin’ dangerous (and smelly). I think I read something somewhere that moose actually kill more people per year than bears. More specifically, Drake’s moose encounter is based on something that happened to my husband a few weeks ago, pretty much exactly as I described it (Yes, my husband’s brain works in slightly strange ways...) The length of time that Drake was gone for references the fact that my husband came home saying that he had no idea how long he actually stood staring at the moose for.

(ii) Weather. It’s all true. You do get randomly warm weather brought in by the Chinook wind that can warm the temperature up significantly throughout the autumn/winter. Also, the massive temperature swing that I describe happened to us when we went to Minnesota for Thanksgiving - the temperature went up to about 15 degrees C (about 60 degrees F) - we were literally outside playing basketball in shorts and t-shirts, but by the evening, there was several inches of snow on the ground.

(iii) The oven. This literally happened the first time my husband and I (we were just dating back then) went to the US for Thanksgiving. We all wake up on Thanksgiving morning and the oven’s busted. In that real life scenario, a technician did come around to look at the oven, and he found that (like in the fic) it just needed a self-clean. So, disaster narrowly averted. But this was priceless for me, so I had to include a slightly modified version in this fic 🤣

(iv) Potatoes. This is based on any meal with my side of the family where we have potatoes. Someone inevitably ends up peeling a shed load of them!

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