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#so we’re gonna decorate the new place!!
browntrait · 7 months
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good evening besties ❤️
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too-deviant · 2 months
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mdni 🃏
stepbro!luke / voyeurism / so perv!luke but also perv!reader
you’ve just moved into your new house — both your dad and may thought it would be good to have a fresh start in a new place. it was nice, in a cute neighbourhood. you and luke got to pick your own rooms, and were left to your own devices when your father and stepmother went for date night.
your name echoed softly along the silence of the hall. you poked your head out of your doorway, looking right into luke’s across from you and meeting his eyes. he was stood in front of his window, staring out at whatever was on the other side.
“what?”
“c’mere.” he beckoned you with his fingers and you were quick to step out onto the soft plush carpet of his room. he hadn’t done much decorating — his bed was made, and he’d hung his mirror up. everything else was in its boxes. “look.”
you sidled up next to him, eyes tracking his gaze out the window and to the house next door. it was nice, around the same layout as yours despite the obvious differences decor-wise.
for example, they had their bed against the middle of the back wall, whereas luke’s was tucked into the corner. you knew this solely because the moment you glanced through the double paned glass of both your windows, your neighbour was bending his wife over at the hips and taking her from behind.
your lips parted as he adjusted his grip on her sides and began to piston roughly. you couldn’t hear anything but judging by the look on her face, he was doing the right thing.
“holy shit.”
“i know, right?” luke smirked at you, “mr and mrs smith are freaky.”
“i’m pretty sure their last name is burgenhoose.” you inputted, raising a brow when mr burgenhoose slapped his wife hard on the ass. she moaned, luke whistled.
“whatever. i’m sure burgenhoose isn’t the name she’s screamin’ right about now, huh?” he chuckled, “what d’ya think it is? looks like…rob? rod? bo —“
“god.” you breathed, muttering, “oh god.”
he hummed in agreement, nodding at you. you didn’t bother to look, eyes fixed firmly on the way your neighbour was gripping his wife’s chin and pulling her back against his chest. luke narrowed his eyes at you, and went to say something, but your eyes widened and you gasped, grabbing his arm and yanking him into a crouch under the windowsill.
“what the hell was that for?” he exclaimed.
“shh!” you put a finger to your lips, lifting yourself up an inch and poking your eyes just over the frame of the window, “i swear she looked at me.”
he smirked at you evilly, “we don’t have to be quiet. we can’t hear them, they aren’t gonna hear us.”
“whatever.” you kept watching.
“damn.” he glanced up and down your frame — at your fingers gripping the windowsill, your overall position. “i didn’t take you for a voyeur, but i’m into it.”
“what — ?”
it was his turn to hush you then, “don’t worry about it. stay there.”
you didn’t protest. you kept looking, watching as he kissed down her neck and bit her ear lobe. you let out a shaky breath, “we’re sick. sick people.”
“they left their curtains open.” luke whispered, suddenly behind you. his hands settled on your hips, “seems to me like they want us to see ‘em.”
“luke —“ your breath caught in the back of your throat when luke began to kiss down your neck. his fingers drifted along the waistband of your shorts, dipping inside for only a second before coming back out.
“tell me what they’re doing.”
you licked your lips, hands tense around the wood you balanced yourself on, watching your neighbours fuck. his arm had wrapped around her waist as he rolled his hips into her ass and her head had dropped down onto his shoulder. you whispered the details like a secret, and luke complied to your every word. his clothed crotch rubbed against your backside and he let out a long breath into your ear.
“this is…” you swallowed, this is bad.”
luke didn’t reply, he just made his movements more defined. the wet patch that had been forming on your panties the moment you began to watch grew bigger. wetter. you moved back into him with a breathy moan. his free hand was on your hip, moving slowly down the back of your legs and pushing them ever so slightly apart so he could get more efficient friction.
your movements got faster. uncoordinated. messy. your forehead dropped against the windowsill and you circled your hips against his fervently, moaning towards the carpet beneath you. he moved his hands to your shorts, pushing them down roughly along with your underwear that peeled away from your cunt. you hissed when the cold air hit your sensitive clit, and you throbbed in anticipation, bringing your hand to your chest and squeezing your boob with a huff.
luke’s hand came round to yours, pulling it away from yourself and steadying it back on the windowsill with a smack. that same hand then took your hair into its grip and yanked your head back, forcing your eyes back on the couple that were banging next door, “tell me if it changes.”
and that’s how you ended up on top of him, swinging your hips back and forth with your hands in the same position as before — only this time, luke’s head was nestled between them. his hands gripped your asscheeks roughly, guiding you back and forth, up and down, this way and that. your moans kept fogging up the window and you kept having to wipe your hand across the glass so you could keep watching the neighbours. when she got faster, so did you. when he slapped her ass, you said again and luke did the same.
when mrs burgenhoose came, legs trembling and head thrown back — so did you. luke wasn’t too far behind, thrusting up into you when you’d slowed your own movements. the neighbours started cuddling softly, but you just pulled the curtains to and let luke carry you to his bed.
first night in the new house. had to break it in, right?
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libbyfandom · 5 months
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"I Can Comb out The Tangles"
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(((I’ve seen a couple fics that focus on Mizu’s hair and same. We’re all just staring at her pretty hair, especially when it’s down. Staring.)))
(((This is for anyone that wants to take care of her.)))
Summary: You've decided that you're gonna take advantage of Mizu's inability to move from the floor after her last fight to wash her hair.
“Stop moving.”
You see Mizu freeze from where she’s trying to push herself up from the futon. With a pointedly aggravated growl, she lays back down. 
Her next words come out with slightly labored breath, “If I can move around I can heal faster.”
“What? If you move around you’re gonna rip your stitches out. Again.”
You finish gathering the last of the items in your arms and heave them over to the futon. Lowering yourself behind Mizu’s head, you spread the array of items and begin to roll up one of the towels.
She cranes her neck back to see what you have with furrowed eyebrows. “What are you doing?” She had heard the sloshing of water. She identifies a wide and shallow bowl, a bucket, a teakettle, more towels, and a vial of what she assumes is perfumed oil from the decorated glass.
“I’m going to wash your hair.” You flick open her haori to check that the new bandages are still in place around her chest-
“Hey.”
She gives an annoyed tsk as she swats your hand away. “…My hair is fine.”
“Dunking your head in rivers and waterfalls doesn’t count as getting clean, Mizu,” you close her top again.
She makes a face at that as you gently lift her head and tuck the rolled towel under her neck to prop her head up.
“Just because you disguise yourself as a man doesn’t mean you should smell like one.”
She huffs out a laugh through her nose, the corners of her mouth quirking up. She feels her hair loosening from her tight updo and spilling out onto the floor behind her head.
Her eyes close. “”The grit of a warrior is found from the dirt under his nails,”” she recites calmly, but is unable to resist the smirk that comes out. One eye cracks open to peek at you.
“You’re genuinely just trying to irritate me now,” you reply with a laugh, gathering her hair and laying it flat. You take your comb from your kimono sleeve and begin to untangle the knots from the bottom.
“Maybe,” she drawls.
You fall into silence as you work. Mizu’s hand rests on her stomach as she stares up at the wooden ceiling. The way your hand smoothes over her hair as you comb out the tangles in sections feel nice. 
When you tilt her head to the side to comb the hair at the nape of her neck, the dull scratch of the teeth sends a shiver down her back. It’s like when you run your nails through her hair. Her eyes close gently with a soft exhale.
A fond smile arises on your face, but you suppress the small laugh in your chest that would break the peaceful silence.
Once her hair is all nice and combed through, you untie the scarf around her neck so it doesn’t get wet. 
You lift the teakettle above the bowl and carefully pour warm water halfway through, careful not to splash so closer to her face. Readjusting the bowl to sit under her head, you once again gather her hair into your fist and place it into the bowl. 
She can feel the rising heat from the water warming her scalp, and hums in interest. She’s admittedly finding the thought of you washing and massaging her hair to be very appealing now after the hair combing.
You watch as her raven hair floats in the bowl, and it reminds you of everything that’s both beautiful and deadly.
 You smile softly as your fingernails drag through the hair at her temple downward. You silently watch her relaxed expression as the strands of hair slip through your fingers. Her closed eyes, the curve of her lips. A deadly beauty, indeed.
Cupping the water in your hand, you run it over the hair at her temple that isn’t submerged in the water. One hand parts sections of her hair while the other wets it down. Once her hair is soaked through, you open the vial and a powdery floral scent begins to permeate the air around you two.
You pour out a handful of the oil into your palm, and begin to massage it into the hair behind her ears.
There’s a rumbling groan from deep within her chest. Her shoulders unclench even more. Mizu feels like she’s going to melt through the floor into the Earth.
You hum with pride, having brought your vigilant lover to such a compliant and serene state. 
Your hands continue to massage in circles, beginning from the back of her head upward. Her hair begins to take on a slight shine from the oil, the light perfume soaking into the strands. Pressing your fingers in, around and around sections of her hair, you wash away any lingering dirt or grime from the last fight.
Your fingers actually begin to ache slightly from the amount of time it takes to massage the oil in and cover the roots of her hair. But when you look down at Mizu, her lips are parted slightly and her eyes are fluttering.
You tilt your head down at her with a curious smile.
Is she awake? Or is she just in a meditative state? Hmm…
Her breathing is quite deep and slow now. She hasn’t spoken or even twitched in several minutes.
However deep her restful state is, you’ll leave her undisturbed and finish the task.
You pull your fingers through her hair again, drawing the oil down her black strands to the ends in the water. You glide through it over and over, coating each strand in perfume. 
Satisfied with how much you covered, you lift her sopping wet hair out to quickly toss the oil filled water into the empty bucket. Water drips onto the floor before you’re able to place the bowl back under her head. You dab it away so it doesn’t begin to spread to your knees or her shoulders.
You tip more warm water from the teakettle into the bowl and begin to rinse her hair. Your heart sings, seeing how she’s yet to stir. You wash the oil from her hair, repeating the motion of tossing the used water into the bucket and filling the bowl again until the water runs clear. 
Your mind has quieted as well from the repetition and the process.
Scrunching her hair up to squeeze out the water, you set aside the bowl with one hand and reach for the last towel.
You wrap her hair and gently squeeze the cloth around her hair, starting from the roots downward in sections.
“Mmng-“
You pause, a little startled at the sudden break after so long in silence. 
You caress her neck, “What did you say, love?”
She doesn’t answer, settling once again. 
A quiet laugh escapes your throat, half confused and half amused.
“Alright, Mizu.”
She really is out.
When you’ve reached a point that her hair isn’t dripping water continuously, you unwrap the towel again and begin to comb out the new tangles. 
“There we are,” you murmur, fanning her half dried hair out under her head. You hum with satisfaction, running your hands down the smooth length. You lean back to admire your work. 
You gently run your fingers up the cut of her jaw, feeling the soft puffs of airs escaping her lips against the side of your hand. Still no sign of those beautiful blues coming back out. You should take advantage of this docile state and wait to wake her up. She’ll finally get some proper rest. Yes, that sounds good.
Her haori still has flecks of dried blood and dirt, and the wound on her chest is still fresh. But her hair is washed, and her breathing is soft, and the perfume in her hair wafts around the room as you stand and head to the pot to start dinner.
Mizu’s eyes blearily crack open for a moment as the floorboards shift. The blurred sight of the wooden roof comes back into view, and for a moment she tries to force herself awake. But the sounds of humming and the smell of perfume drift around her, and the corners of her mouth lift slightly.
She’s pulled back under.
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virgincels · 5 months
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JINGLE BALLS !
ft. leon s. kennedy x fem!reader
tags. p in v, daddy-daughter incest, leon is creepy ngl, dub-con at first then consensual, daddy issues, you get compared to your mom lots, creampie, daddy kink
note. HAII sorry for this being late omg :3 umm this is weird and jolty and the plot im not totally happy with but :333 ignore typos or I will cry!! feedback and reblogs always so appreciated :3
tumblr removes fics that use tw non-con, tw incest and any nsfw tags in general. for this reason, as i’d like my fic to appear in the tags so i can have the same reach as other authors, please understand that these fics contain dark content under the cut. reading this comes at your own risk.
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“Pumpkin!” Your dad’s embrace is stiff per usual. This guy - he seriously needs a lesson in intimacy. Can’t go hugging your daughter the same way you do a girlfriend. Dads shouldn’t put their hands below your midriff. They certainly shouldn’t grip your hips and pull you close with such fervour, now you’re tit to tit with the man who gifted you your pornstar rack. And it’s a bit awkward to say the very least.
“Hi, dad.” He backs off, skittish when he hears your tone of voice. Flat and clipped.
“Sweetpea, I’m so glad you’re here,” Leon starts, he’s laying it on super thick, “We’re gonna have a lot of fun.” Oh, you’re exhausted already.
“Mhm.” You nod in disinterest as you toe off your shoes, place them beside his mud-caked boots. Leon is your dad. Your dad is just a guy to you. One that’s around never, you see him seldom and from afar. He’s not exactly awful, but he’s nothing great. A little touchy if anything, and enthusiastic in a way that comes across as disingenuous.
The only thing you really know about Leon is that he’s your dad, he works with the government, and he’s still hung up on your mom. You can tell from a mile away. Looks at her like she crafted the earth itself, mapped out the stars, plucked them from the sky to make him a new moon. Totally whipped for a woman who forgets he exists until major holidays roll around. And you get it honestly, your mom is pretty, fun, and she’s all you’ve got. So you might take after dad in that sense.
You’ve seen the kinda women he brings home. That time you caught him mid disgusting, nasty, abhorrent sex act that you’ve only seen in porn. Had this poor girl’s head tilted so far back, blonde curls like liquid gold running along her back, brushing the swell of her ass, his arm wrapped around her neck - like, was he trying to fucking kill her? Well, she liked it clearly. That’s beside the point, when you saw her face the following morning, her sheepish smile and the slant of her eyes - you got it. Mom. She looked like mom. You overheard him telling her she was too young for him, a college girl, his daughter’s age - only after he came down her throat though. What a creep.
Then there was his girlfriend from a few years back, this chick who popped her gum too loud, bossed him around and got him to pay for a new set of acrylics weekly. It was uncanny the resemblance between her and mom. What next? You? Is it your turn to be pursued by Leon, by dad? The only thing you’ve got from him is tits, busty like your daddy, pretty like your mommy. And he fucking knows it. You know he does.
Leon places a hand on your lower back. Like, way lower back, the spot a boyfriend would touch when he wants to initiate a quickie. You shiver, glance at him through your peripheral as he guides you to the lounge, the wooden floor is so cold you feel it through the fabric of your winter socks. This dude is loaded and he can’t even get heated floors installed? Not even for lil ol’ you? His daughter? The one that resembles his one true love?
There’s a red box that contains a gingerbread house sitting on the coffee table, you groan inwardly. Here we go with the bonding activities, it’s so forced it makes your skin crawl. His Christmas tree is, well, it’s a tree alright, crudely and hastily decorated with a sparse amount of baubles and god-awful paper crafts you gave to him as a toddler. Aw, the sentiment is there though, kinda cute. You’ll cut dad some slack.
By the time midnight rolls around, you realise cutting dad even the slightest bit of slack was a mistake. “Take that off.” You jab a finger into his stomach, met with sinewy, toughened flesh. Woah, dad’s still got it going on. “It’s ugly, and I’m not twelve, dad.”
“Moving fast.” Leon - your dad, biological, held you as a baby, rocked you to sleep at night - wiggles his eyebrows at you. All while dressed in a Santa suit by the way, ‘cause that is one very important piece of information. He looks fucking ridiculous. It’s the same one he used to pull out when you were a kid, back when you actually gave a shit about him, what he thought about you, whether he even wanted you. ‘Cause if your daddy wanted you, why was he away so often? Told mom to jingle his balls once, an unsavoury recurring memory that you’d like to forget.
“Oh, dad, that’s actually really concerning, like, I’m not gonna lie.” You frown at him so hard the wrinkles that form on your forehead become permanent. “Don’t say that to me.”
“I was messing around.” He defends, “Christ, what is up with you today? Got a stick up your ass or somethin’? Y’know, in my day, kids used to be able to take jokes.” Now he’s pouting like a toddler in a sour mood.
“That was not a joke, dad!” You don’t mean to raise your voice, but it happens and within seconds he’s sat on the couch dejected. This fucking dude. Ugh. He’s pathetic. How did he manage to bag a hottie like your mom?
“I just want you to love me, sweetheart.” Here we go again. Leon sighs hopelessly as he slumps back into the cushions, and you can’t take him seriously when he’s wearing a fucking Santa hat.
“I do love you, dad.” And you do. Honest. Really. Like, pinky promise. You love him out of obligation - he’s your dad, and you’re meant to love your dad. Doesn’t mean you like him though. In your very objective-totally-not-biased view, your dad is just a bit unlikeable. A bit of a strange one.
“Yeah?” He lightens up, “You love me?” God, it’s like he gets off on it. Oh, you’re just being mean now. You scoot closer to him, lean in for an awkward side hug.
“I do, dad. I love you.” You don’t have the courage to look at him. Leon’s arm snakes around your waist, and you know what’s coming. How much do you love me?
“How much do you love me?” Called it. Up until now it’s been a harmless question, but when you face him, gaze flitting from his eyes to his nose to his lips, the general wear and tear of his aged face - it’s different. This time you won’t be able to get away with the regular bout of flattery, wax poetry about how much you love him, how you wouldn’t want anyone else but him to be your daddy. When in reality, you’d swap out Leon for any poor sod. They wouldn’t leave you hanging so damn often.
“A lot, dad.” You turn your head to roll your eyes, getting it out of your system proves worthy, now you can plaster your mommy’s smile onto your face, the one he loves so much. “So much, you know that, don’t you?”
“Just don’t seem like it, pumpkin.” Leon gives you a sideways glance, “I’m trying… I wanna make it up to you, y’know? For how much I was away.”
“Dad, you don’t have to do that. I’m over it.” You’re not. But, you’re good at pretending you are. “I don’t need you to make it up to me.” You do. Oh, you so do. You need it to a devastating degree. “Like, I’m not a kid, I don’t want Santa, and I don’t wanna make fuckin’ gingerbread houses, or watch Home Alone-“
“What, so you’re a big girl now?” He tilts his head to the side, there’s an edge to his voice that’s hard to decipher. Don’t know if it’s good or bad.
“Well, I’m not little anymore, dad.” You gasp when he tries to take a subtle glimpse down your shirt.
“I can see that.” Leon pokes his tongue into the corner of his cheek.
“Yeah, and I saw that!” When you go to stand, his grip becomes almost crushing, wanting to hold you in place so badly. For a moment it’s scary, only for a moment, this is just dad. Just Leon. He’s harmless. As lame as he is, your dad wouldn’t hurt you.
“I didn’t do nothing, baby, c’mere, don’t be like that.” Dad pets your head, and it reminds you of your childhood bedroom. “I’m sorry, alright? I never spent Christmas with just you, and I wanted to make it good for you.”
“I know, dad, and I appreciate it, just don’t need you to get all weird about it. Like, we can just— we can just be normal about it. Don’t have to do all this shit, I just want us to be normal.” Normal, huh? Neither of you can do normal, and you’re fully aware of that. ‘Cause your dad is a freak, and you can’t exactly drain Kennedy blood all that easy. You’ll be your father’s daughter even when he’s dead. “Like, I really, I really can’t deal with this whole Santa thing, did you really expect me to like it? I’m not a baby.”
“I just thought it’d be cute.” Cute? What is cute about a grown man in a Santa costume that’s covered in a thin layer of dust, dug out from the boxes he still hasn’t managed to open ten years after the divorce? “Listen, baby, I’m sorry, alright? I’m real sorry, look at me,” Leon cups your cheek, stares into your eyes with his gentle ones, “Dad’s sorry, yeah? I’m just stupid sometimes.”
“You are,” you nod, “but, I’m sorry too.” No, you’re not. Just saying it so he doesn’t drag this on, so he doesn’t call up your mom and tell her you’re not having a good time. Then your mom will be down your throat, your dad’s missed you, and you missed him too, you should be nicer to him, he tries his best, darling! “You, like, went through all that effort, and I didn’t even say thank you, I just got mad at you— so I’m sorry, dad.”
“Oh, baby,” he coos, shifts so he can bring you into his chest, cheek squished against one of his fat tits, god, why’re they so big, you swear it’s bigger than both of yours combined. “It’s alright, I know you’re growing up, and I’m sorry for treating you like a baby, it’s just, it’s hard ‘cause you’re my little girl, y’know?” Not true. You’ve always been a mommy’s girl. Dad is an acquaintance.
“Yes, I know, dad.” You blink at him, he melts, traces your cheekbone with his thumb. Thank god he took that dumbass hat off, you couldn’t take him seriously.
“Gosh, baby, you look just like your mama.”
“I know, dad.”
“Crazy, ain’t it?” Leon kisses your forehead, “Only got these from me, and nothin’ else, huh?” Dad gropes your tits. The man that put a baby in your mother, that baby being you, obviously, the man whose name is on your birth certificate— the man who has given you his name, is groping your tits. “Certainly not from mommy are they?”
You shake your head. In agreement though. ‘Cause you can’t deny it, your mom’s as flat as a board. It feels weird, yes. But not bad. Maybe you’ve detached Leon from the title of ‘dad’ to the point where it doesn’t even matter anymore. It’s wrong, so you go to stop him, but he’s unyielding in his perversion.
“You look like your mommy down here, baby?” Dad asks, he cups your pussy through your jeans with his big hand. “Can daddy see?”
You shake your head again. Slowly. This time a flimsy no, one that teeters on the boundaries of a yes. You do owe him, you’ve been acting like a bitch ever since you arrived in D.C. Making a right fuss the moment you stepped through the door. Poor guy put the rather intricate gingerbread house all together by himself, he’s dressed as fucking Santa, all ‘cause he thought you’d like it. How bad can it be? Not like fucking your dad could land the two of you in jail, right? Well, it could, but that’s not the point.
“No? C’mon, sweet girl, dad just wants to see,” Leon’s plump bottom lip juts out, you kinda sit there for a minute, then lay back on the couch. What have you got to lose? You have no emotional attachment to this man. You do. It’s not weird at all. God, it’s so weird you want to claw your skin off. “That’s a good girl.” He butters you up while he unbuttons your jeans, taps your hips so you lift ‘em up and off they pop, jeans thrown to the ground. “Oh, look at her, baby, how sweet, just like mama,” Leon rests your left leg on his shoulder, holds the ankle of your right one to spread you open. “You think she likes it like mommy did?”
“How did… How did mom like it, dad— daddy?” You correct yourself, feel this horrible churning in your stomach. Both nausea and need flooding your shaky body.
Leon presses his wide nose to the bump of your clit through your tight panties, there’s a wet patch that seems to get bigger and bigger the more he sniffs around down there. He lifts his head, rests it on your thigh as he slides them to the side, sticky, gooey arousal stringing apart, sticking to the seat of your undies like PVA glue when he separates the fabric from your soaked centre. “She liked it real sloppy, baby.” With that, he spits on your drippy cunt, runs his finger through your folds, pinches your clit. “Daddy’s gonna give it to you just how mom liked it, alright?”
“Okay, dad,” you tell him breathlessly, hands clasped together as you try to calm your nerves. The warmth of his breath on your puffy clit is enough to make you shiver, he spreads you open with his index and middle fingers, the tip of his tongue traces along the centrefold of your cunt. Then Leon grows agitated by the way your panties insist on snapping back in place, so he has a little wrestle with them and your limp legs, once they’re off he tucks them into his pocket for safekeeping. Santa’s back pocket.
Sweetly, he kisses your clit, sucks on it like he’s getting to the centre of your cunt, blows a raspberry on it - you’re so wet it’s pooling beneath your ass. Leon spreads your cheeks to lick into your cunt, press his nose into it real nice ‘n deep, smacks his lips against your fat pussy, stubble smeared with your slick. Leaking all over your dad’s pretty face, letting your dad tug your clit between his teeth and fuck his tongue into your tight hole. “Should stop shaving.” Is all dad says once you cream on his face, “Your mama didn’t.” Okay, didn’t need to know that, but here you are, dad’s fat cock hard and heavy against your thigh. So you guess fucking him comes at that expense - finding out all sorts of details about their wild sex life. To be honest, you pegged Leon as the kinda guy who knows what missionary is and missionary only, not that you ever thought about that before. He unbuckles his belt, unthreads the prongs from the holes one by one, and drops his red Santa pants. Good riddance.
“Dad,” you whimper when he sits you up, handles you like a dolly. The tight-fitted Santa coat stretches around his biceps when he scoops you up, puts you on his lap, gosh, you’ve never really noticed those. Maybe that’s what your mom saw in him. Big blue eyes and big tits and big fucking arms. This Santa attire is really fucking you up, it’s hard to take him seriously.
“Your mommy’s real good at riding cock, y’know that, pumpkin?” Leon squeezes your ass, you feel him. All of him. His clothed cock grinding upwards into your bare cunt, a toothy grin stretching his lips as he watches the way your lips squish together. Yeah, fat pussy, so what. Get over it, creep. “Best I ever had she was, best fuckin’ pussy,” he licks up the sweat dripping down your collarbones, “but you’re made for me, ain’t you, baby?”
“Yes, dad.” You don’t know what else to say, breath stuttering when he sits you down on his cock. Thick and fairly long in all the ways a dick should be, you suppose. Look at that, giving a review of your dad’s cock. How far you have come. Fucking degenerate cock critic. It sure does feel good, his tip nestled snug against your cervix, pulsing within the silky walls of your tight cunt. Feel every vein, how his tip leaks pre endlessly, how it twitches when you clench around him.
“Baby, you’re such a big girl now,” Dad kisses you smack-bang in the middle. On your pouty lips. The ones that remind him of your mom, same lips that sucked his cock in the marriage bed, same eyes rolling back into your skull when he begins to rock his hips into you. “Takin’ daddy’s cock so well, aren’t you? Better than mommy.” Almost, he wants to add. You know he does. He’s so predictable.
There are no words in your brain, only able to let out shaky breaths and the occasional yelp as he takes you, grabs your hips and bounces you up and down on his cock. “Fuck, wait, let me— let me-“ he doesn’t finish his sentence, instead he’s sliding you off and bending you over the couch. “Better like this.” That’s ’cause you look like mom from behind. Same hair, same hips, same perky ass. Leon fucks you harder, his strokes deeper, knocking his cock into your poor cervix with his brutal thrusts. Your nails scratch at the cracked leather of his couch, unable to help the way you moan for him, it’s so embarrassing, even more so when your hips begin to move on their own, fucking yourself back on dad’s dick.
Each thrust is harder than the last, god, is he trying to go through you? Put you in A&E ‘cause his cock got tangled in your intensities? “Is this… Is this how mom likes it, dad?” You manage to get out through a stifled groan, he digs his teeth into your neck, licks a stripe over the tender skin then tugs at your hoop earring with his teeth.
“Your mom likes it even harder, baby,” Leon snickers, “your mama is a dirty bitch.” You gasp, tighten around him involuntarily, your pussy behaves in mysterious ways. “She liked it when I did this,” his hand comes down on your ass hard, you squeal, almost lose footing and fall face-first into the couch cushions. “And when I pulled her hair, and slapped her tits, and spit down her fuckin’ throat.” Your mom is one nasty bitch, good on her. Personally, you’re new to it all. “You want that?”
“I don’t know, dad.” You say helplessly, thighs trembling when he reaches round with his nimble fingers to rub neat circles into your bud, so you come undone around his cock. Coat the shaft in cream, drip slick down his balls. You muffle your moans into a pillow, painted toes curling against the wooden floor, suddenly thankful for his lack of underfloor heating - ‘cause you’re sweating like a pig.
Your body trembles with aftershocks as he continues to fuck you through it, helps his little girl out by kissing the wet nape of her neck, a big hand on her waist to steady her. Sweat prickles your skin, jolting as he gives one last sloppy push into you, hips jerking as he unloads all he’s got to give and you milk him just right. ‘Cause you know, you’re his kid, made for him. That’s why he fits like a glove. Born to get your cunt bred by dad. You think he says your mom’s name into your hair, but you don’t question it, slumping over in exhaustion.
“Dad, can you just do me a favour and take that off, please? I’m really tired and it’s pissing me off.” You curl up on the sofa, uncaring of the seed that drips out and trickles down your plush thighs.. Leather’s easy to clean.
“Why? I like it. Don’t you think it’s cute, sweetpea?” Normalcy or what the two of you consider normal returns.
“No, take it off, or I’m taking the next flight home.”
“Alright, pumpkin.”
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ramblingoak · 6 months
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Copia on ICE! ~ part one ~
Cardinal Copia x Female Reader ~ At what would probably be your final Winter Olympics you needed to focus on realizing your dream of winning gold. You definitely didn't need to start a whirlwind romance with world famous speed skater Copia Emeritus...
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~ I commissioned @enjoy-my-swearing to bring speed skater Copia to life so please take a moment to appreciate her amazing work (especially the butt sparkles) ~
Warnings: a vague understanding of how the Winter Olympics actually works also their ages are obviously gonna be a little funky so just roll with it, angst, fluff, smug copia, fingering, dirty talk, lots of kissing, nsfw, 18+ only mdni, about 15k words
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“Elegant…graceful…soft.”
Your coach’s words echoed in your head as you skated across the ice.  Reminders of how figure skaters should appear while they perform.  The music to your short program reached its crescendo in your head and you pushed yourself into your first jump, quickly leaping into the second as you landed.  You spun towards the stands with your arms extended out, smiling towards all the imaginary people looking on.  
“Do you think he’s into fisting?”
“Jesus Christ Terzo!”  You slid to a stop in front of where your friend and roommate was lounging against the rink wall staring at his phone.  “What the hell?”
“I’m just asking!”
“But why are you asking me when you should be asking him?”    
“I will but you know, one needs to prepare themselves for every possibility.”  He glanced up from his phone with a smirk on his face.  “Like fisting.”
“How about you keep your possibilities to yourself.”  You skated to his side, placing your elbows on the low wall while you gave him a stern look.  “And stop saying fisting.”
“Fine, fine.”  His phone screen lit up and Terzo grinned at whatever was on there before he quickly typed out a response.  When he was done he turned and gave you a quick grin.  “Have I ever told you that you are my favorite person?”
“Yes, but you only tell me that when you have bad news or you want something.”  Terzo’s grin wavered a bit but his phone lit up again and he giggled at whatever he saw on it.  “Just spit it out Terzo.”
“Would you mind terribly if I left early?”
“How early?  We still have the rink for a few hours.”
He winced, glancing at his phone again before sheepishly meeting your eyes.
“Now?”
“Now?  Terzo, you need to practice!”
“SÍ, grazie coach, I know.”  He pushed off the wall and skated around you to the opening.  “I’ve been practicing for weeks.  Months.”  You watched as he grabbed his blade covers and went to sit on the bench where he’d tossed all his gear.  “Years!”
“That’s the point Terzo!  We do all this practicing for a reason, to get to where we are today.”  You grabbed your own covers and followed him out of the rink.  “You do remember we’re at the Winter Olympics, right?”
“We’re at the Olympics?!”  Terzo gave an exaggerated gasp and you rolled your eyes.  “Amica mia, I know this.  How can I forget when you’re covered in feathers.”
Glancing down at your costume you let out a sigh.  Swan Lake hadn’t been your first choice of song for your short program, mostly because you knew your coach would lean into the swan aspect way too much.  White feathers decorated the fabric from your chest down to the short skirt.  When you looked at the ground you could see a few feathers had fallen off and were scattered over the floor.  With a huff you crossed your arms and looked back to glare at Terzo.
“At least I’m covered in something.  Your costume is 80% lace.  Does that even meet the regulations?”
“Omega liked it.”
“Oh well if Omega likes it then that’s all that matters.”  You both glared at each other for a few beats before you sighed and trudged over to sit by him on the bench.  “Is he a snowboarder?”
“Hockey.”
“Well Secondo will be pleased at least.”
“Eh, he plays for Sweden.”  At that you winced, Terzo’s older brother was the head coach for team Italy and probably wouldn’t be thrilled Terzo was sleeping with someone from a rival team.  “You should see him, cara mia.  Wide shoulders, thick arms and an ass to die for.”
“That sounds like most hockey players.”
“No no, he’s not just a hockey player.  He’s the captain.”
“The captain?  Then why the fuck are you still here?  Go get him!”
Terzo laughed, leaning in to give you a quick kiss on your forehead.
“I knew you’d understand.”  
He bent down to start untying his skates and shoved them along with the rest of his things into his gym bag.  You tried not to feel a pang of jealousy as you watched him work.  Terzo was so much more carefree than you were, something you really appreciated in the last few years.  You were still recovering from a knee injury when you first met him and his humor and kindness had done wonders for you.  It also helped that as soon as you had met his older brother you basically had been adopted into the family.
Primo was a member of the curling team and while it wasn’t the most popular sport his success made him fairly well known.  He had spent most of his life acting like a father to his three younger brothers.  Their actual father, Nihil, had been absent for much of their life.  If you asked any of them they would state that Primo was the head of the family and wouldn’t bring up Nihil’s name at all.
Secondo was the second oldest, an imposing and stern man to anyone outside his close circle of family and friends.  He had spent most of his life playing hockey, one of the best goaltenders that the sport had ever seen.  His nickname was Bone Daddy although few dared call him that to his face.  The design of his mask was that of a terrifying skull, a design he had claimed had been used by Emeritus family members from long ago.
Although you were pretty sure the story he told you about the family running a Satanic Church was completely made up.
His terrifying reputation on the ice was enhanced by the fact that under his mask and helmet he painted his face with the same skull design.  Secondo reveled in pulling his mask off to startle members of the opposing team and referees alike.  He probably would still be tending goal if he hadn't injured his shoulder years prior.  Now he was the head coach of the Italy team, skull makeup still proudly worn every game and oftentimes in between.
The one brother you hadn’t met yet was Copia.  Although with as much as the media loved to talk about him each Winter Olympics you were surprised you hadn’t.  Copia was one of the most decorated athletes in any Olympic sport.  You had been hoping to run into him at some point, mostly just so you could meet the entire family, but deep down you could admit there was another reason: Copia Emeritus was gorgeous.
The entire family was to be more accurate, but Copia was the face that had the habit of popping into your head when you were daydreaming.  It didn’t help that he seemed to be everywhere right now.  With what was being touted as his last Olympic Games it seemed like every reporter was clamoring to interview him.  You’d seen his face across a majority of the magazines littered around the Olympic village lounge area and you really hoped Terzo never found the one you had already swiped to look at later.
Your musings were interrupted when Terzo zipped his bag closed and stood up, seemingly looking around for something.  You snorted when you realized what he was missing.
“You left your coat in our room, remember?”  Terzo’s shoulders slumped and he groaned.  “Something about ‘giving everyone a show’ while we walked here?”  When he grabbed yours that you’d thrown over the rink wall you got up as well.  “Hey, no that’s mine!”
“Per favore, amica mia?”  He got distracted by his phone beeping again and after a quick look he turned to you even more desperate.  “Omega wants to go sightseeing and then go back to his room after…”
“And you’re dressed like that.”    He nodded at you while he pouted and really, that shouldn’t work as well as it did.  “Ok, fine!  You might as well take my sweatpants too, don’t need the entire town seeing your ass hanging out.”
In short order you had your friend bundled up and ready for his date.  It was cute to see him continually checking his phone, you’d never seen Terzo so excited about a date before.  You were about to go back out on the ice and start practicing again when the doors at the back of the stands opened and a figure blocked out the light.
“Terzo that guy looks like he could break you in half.”
“Fuck I hope so.”  He pulled you into a fierce hug before starting up the stairs.  “Don’t wait up!”
“I suppose I’ll need to take your bag back to our room?”  
Terzo turned and flashed you a grin before making it up to Omega and practically launching into the guy’s arms.  Omega held up a hand and you waved back, lowering it with a sigh when the two men went out the door and left you alone.    You turned back towards the rink, shooting a glare at the two huge bags you’d now have to lug back to the village.  Well, no use worrying about that now, you had two hours left to practice and you were determined to get your routine perfect.
Anything less than that wouldn’t get a medal around your neck.
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Hours later you were exhausted and desperately wanting to be out of your costume and back in your room.  Easier said than done considering you had to lug both yours and Terzo’s things back with you.
“Goddammit.  Ugh!”  You straightened up, lifting Terzo’s bag and slinging it over your head as you turned.  “He better be the lay of the centur—shit!”
As you turned to head towards the exit you ran right into a solid something.  You immediately took a step away but with the extra weight hanging off your back you kept going, falling backwards and landing on your ass.  With a groan you let your head fall back onto the ground.  The man you had slammed into was laughing, a deep chuckle that reminded you too much of Terzo.  You heard fabric rustle and then felt a hand touch your knee.
“Is uh, everything okie dokie?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.”  With a groan you started to sit up, flailing a bit until the man grabbed one of your hands to help.  “You know you shouldn’t sneak up…oh.”
Copia Emeritus was mere inches away from you.
His brown hair was combed back, flecks of gray catching on the fluorescent lights.  There was some dark makeup around a familiar set of eyes, one green and one white.  A carefully groomed mustache sat above a full set of lips.  Your eyes couldn’t help but trail down his body, the jacket was emblazoned with the colors of the Italian flag.  Below that he seemed to be wearing a uniform, tight fabric hugging his hips and—
“Sneak up on?”
“Thighs!”
Damn it.  You dropped your head into your hand with a groan.
“Did you hit your head?”
“Uh, yes?”  The man crouched down again, a gloved hand pulling your own away from your face.  When you dared to look at him he was smirking, another familiar feature shared with your friend.  You decided to try for indifference and hoped he bought it.  “Copia?”
“Copia.”  He placed a hand on the back of your head, his fingers probing through your hair.  You tried to swat at his hand but he easily grabbed it with his free one.  “Quit that, I’m trying to make sure you aren’t hurt.”
“I’m fine!  It’s fine.”  Copia pulled away, holding his hands up in surrender.  You ignored the little pang of…whatever after he did so.  Instead you focused on pulling the bag straps off your shoulders and trying to get up.  Sheepishly you met Copia’s eyes, scrunching your nose up at the amused look on his face.  “Could you lend me a hand?”
“Oh now you want a hand, eh?”  He chuckled at your grumbling, taking your hands and easily pulling you to your feet.  “Upsy daisies.”
“Daisy.”
“Is that your name?”
“No, it’s—upsy daisy.  Not daisies.”  When Copia gave you a confused look you groaned and turned around, glaring down at the bags.  There were more feathers from your costume resting on the ground and you quickly knelt down to grab them.  “Damn it.”
“What is this anyway?”  You looked up at him as you picked up the feathers, narrowing your eyes at the fingers wiggling your way.  “Your clothes.”
“It’s my costume.”
“Costume for what?”
“I’m a figure skater.”
“Ah, so you probably know mio fratello, Terzo.”
“Unfortunately.”  You chose to ignore how handsome his smile made him look, standing up again with a handful of white feathers.  He kept eyeing your costume, looking up and down your body with what you hoped was appreciation.  “What?”
“You are uh, una paperina?”
“Huh?  Yeah.  You know, Swan Lake.”  Copia was biting his lip, looking to be about two seconds from laughing.  Ok so, not appreciation.  “What now?”
“Nothing, it’s nothing.  Just remembering Terzo covered in feathers when he skated to that too.”
“It’s a popular song.”
“Sí, I think everyone skates to it at least once.”
What the fuck?
“And?  It’s a good song!”
“Paperina, I didn’t say it wasn’t.”
“Skating to Swan Lake is a lot more difficult than skating in a circle.”
Ha!  That got him.  Copia’s eyes narrowed as he crossed his arms over his chest.
“Is it now?  Have you ever watched speed skating?”  He huffed when you shook your head.  “I think if you watched you would change your mind.”
“Yes, well I’m busy right now so I’ll take a rain check.”  You turned and knelt down again, shoving the feathers in a pocket of your bag and then slinging the strap over your head.  “It’s late, I’ve gotta get back to my room.”
“Do you turn into a pumpkin at midnight?”
“What?”  As you stood up you couldn’t stop yourself from wavering on your feet again, but this time Copia kept his hands to himself.  “What are you talking about?”
“Ah, doesn’t the swan turn into a pumpkin if they aren’t back home at midnight?”
“You are mixing two very, very different fairy tales.”  Copia shrugged, seemingly unbothered with fairy tale lore.  As you reached down and picked up Terzo’s bag your balance shifted again but you moved away when Copia reached out to steady you.  “I got it!”
“Has anyone ever told you how stubborn you are Paperina?”
“Once or twice.”  You took a few steps to the side to go around Copia but he moved to block you.  “Has anyone ever told you how annoying you are?”
“Once or twice.”  God, even his smile was annoying.  And handsome.  Damn it.  “I’m actually looking for my brother.”
“He left a while ago with some guy.”
“Of course.  Hockey player?”
You couldn’t help but grin, it was clear Copia knew his brother well.
“The captain of the Swedish team in fact.”
“Ha!  Secondo is gonna love that.”  He looked down and motioned towards Terzo’s bag.  “Isn’t that his?”
“I’m taking it back to our room for him.  Apparently.  Hey!”
“Allow me.”  He easily tugged the bag out of your hands, grinning in response to your narrowed eyes.  “Where’s your coat?  It’s too cold out there for Swan Lake.”
“Terzo needed it more.”  At Copia’s raised eyebrow you just shrugged.  “His costume has a lot of lace.”
“Ah, should have known.”  He sighed and set his brother’s bag down, bringing his hands up to the zipper on his hoodie and quickly pulling it off.  “Wear this while I walk you back.”
“I don’t need your escort or your hoodie.”
“You are unfortunately getting both Paperina so chop, chop.  Let’s go.”
You both stared each other down, although his look was much more amused than yours was.
“Fine, whatever.  Gimme.”  His little smug grin had you gritting your teeth.  It was unfair that he looked this good.  Once you had his hoodie on and zipped up you held your arms out.  “Happy?”
The look he gave you then was definitely appreciative.  Lingering long enough on your face that you hoped he thought your red cheeks were from the cold and not your blush.
“Molto felice.”  Copia easily swung Terzo’s bag over his shoulder and gestured for you to go ahead of him.  “You first Paperina.”
The walk back to the Olympic Village was mostly quiet.  Once or twice you thought you heard him singing softly under his breath but he stopped whenever you glanced his way.  You were trying very hard not to stare at him.  Copia carried himself in that confident way athletes at the top of their game had.  It made you self conscious and you immediately straightened up, pulling your shoulders back and correcting your posture.
It had been a while since you’d been at the top of yours.
The large lounge area on the main floor was still mostly full.  Athletes from all sports and countries getting to know each other or sitting quietly on their own.  Four years ago you’d be down here with them, finding new friends and connections.  You couldn’t afford that this year though, not with so much on the line.
“Paperina?”  Copia’s voice dragged you from your melancholy thoughts.  You expected to see an amused look on his face but instead he looked almost concerned.  “Are you alright?”
“Yeah, yes.  I’m good.  Actually this is good.”   He raised an eyebrow when you held your hands out for Terzo’s bag.  “I got it from here.”
“Terzo already bitched at me about how far away his room was, let me help.”
“No it’s fine, really.”  Copia sighed, seemingly understanding he wasn’t going to win.  “Thank you for your help though.”
“It’s nothing.  The least I could do, uh, since my brother left you.”
“I’m not mad, it was for a good cause.”
“Sí, a hockey captain.”  You stared at each other for a moment, long enough that you started fidgeting under his stare.  “Have a good night Paperina.”
“You too Copia.”
He gave you one last smile before turning and heading off, disappearing into a crowd of Canadians.  With a sigh you began to make your way towards the elevators for your section of the dorms.  Terzo was right, your room was far away.  But it was nice to be able to room with your friend.  You knew Terzo had thrown his family name around, and probably a little money, to make it happen.  It made times he did stupid things like tonight more bearable.
Still, it didn’t stop you from dropping both your bags down in front of your door with a curse aimed his way.  Another curse left you when you noticed the sock on the doorknob.  You started knocking on the door sharply, turning your hand to hit it with the side of your fist when nothing happened.
“Terzo!” 
There was muffled cursing behind the door and the sound of something being knocked over before it opened and your friend shoved his head through the opening.
“Sí?”
“What are you doing?”
“What do you think I’m doing?  Didn’t you see the sock?”  You flinched back when Terzo yanked it off the doorknob and swung it in front of your face.  “I’m having sex!”
“Good for you, why are you having sex in our room?  I thought you were going back to Omega’s!”
“Ah well, you see his roommate had already claimed the room.  So.  Here we are.”  Terzo’s grin turned into a grimace when you twisted his nipple.  “Ai!  I just got that pierced!”
“I don’t care!  I am tired, I am cold and I’m dressed like a fucking swan.  Let me in.”
“I am begging you to go away.”
“Where am I supposed to go?!”
“I don’t know!  Go mingle downstairs!  Show off your feathers.”  He jerked back, slamming into the door to get away from your fingers.  “Stop pinching!”
“Stop being an asshole!”
“Amica mia, please.  Omega.”  Terzo gestures towards the door in that hopeless way he did when he was struggling to find the right words.  “I like him.”
“Like like?”  He rolled his eyes but gave you a quick nod.  Goddammit.  “Alright!  But just tonight though!”
“Sí, sí.  Just tonight.”  Terzo tugged you in for a quick hug, pressing a noisy kiss into your temple before pulling away.  His hands lingering on your shoulders as he looked down at your chest.  You were about to tell him off for staring before you realized he was looking at the hoodie.  Copia’s hoodie.  “Where did you get this?”
“Your brother came looking for you and took pity on me.”
“Maybe he just didn’t want to be seen next to that costu—ow, ow!  What did I say!  They are healing!”  He hissed at you as he pressed himself back into the door, his arms crossed comically high on his chest.  “Are you two friends now?”
“Sure, we’re best friends.  I think we’ll room together at the next Olympics.”  When Terzo started waggling his eyebrows you groaned.  “Shut up.”
“This is his last one, amica.”  You gave him a questioning look but Terzo just shrugged.  “That’s what he’s been saying at least.”
“Anyway, how long do you need?  Five minutes?  Ten?”
“You did see Omega, right?  Try five hours.”  You wrinkled your nose at the thought and Terzo gleefully continued,  “He likes to switch too.  Is this…is this what love feels like?”
“Two hours.  No, stop pouting.  You have two hours Terzo before I break the door down.”
“Fine. Deal.”  He opened the door again and grabbed the bags, quickly tossing them inside before spinning around with a grin on his face.  “Go make some new friends while I make some babies.”
He laughed at the horrified look on your face, taking advantage of it to slip back into the room and shut the door.  The sound of the lock clicking was loud in the empty hallway.  You sighed and shoved your hands into your borrowed hoodie, looking down at it for a moment and then freezing when you saw the feathers peeking out from below. 
“Fuck.”
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The lounge was thankfully a little quieter when you got back down there.  No one gave you any weird looks at least.  You found a seat close to one of the big fireplaces and settled down, letting the heat wash over you.  Hopefully no one would bat an eye if you fell asleep, it certainly wouldn’t be the first time an athlete had been locked out of their room for one reason or another.
“Paperina?”  You groaned and looked up into the face of Terzo’s brother.  “What are you doing down here?”
His clothes were different, you could see the blue of his skating suit peeking out at his neck and at his wrists.  He had reapplied the makeup around his eyes too, as well as covering just his upper lip.  It probably would bother you more if Terzo didn’t regularly wear skull makeup during his routines.  The Emeritus family was interesting, you had to give them that. 
“Your brother and the hockey captain were there.”  A flash of irritation washed over Copia’s face so you quickly reached out and grasped his hand.  When he glanced down at it you immediately let go, watching as he flexed it afterwards.  “It’s fine, I gave him two hours.”
“You’re going to sit here for two hours?”
“Yes, it’s ok.  I’ve got the fire and I can take a little nap.”  You flinched when a few guys started shouting at something playing on a tv nearby.  “I’m good.”
“You’re too nice Paperina, that stronzino doesn’t deserve you.”  Copia held both of his hands out to you smiling when you just stared at them.  “Let’s go, you can come with me.”
“Come with you where?  Hey!” 
He had reached down and grabbed your hands, easily pulling you out of the chair and ushering you ahead of him towards the door. 
“If you’re gonna just sit somewhere you can sit and watch me skate in circles.  How about that?”
He looked cocky and sure of himself, exactly how you’d expect an eight time gold medalist to look.  You bit your lip as you thought it over.  Speed skating had never been a sport you sought out to watch.  Skating in circles was boring, no one could convince you otherwise.  But you couldn’t help but glance down at his legs, at the sweatpants you knew were covering that tight uniform.  The tight uniform over those huge thighs. 
At least the scenery would be nice. 
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“How long will this take?”
“Eh, usually I practice for three hours.”
“I gave Terzo two.”
“We both know he’ll beg you for one more so just sit here like a good little Swan Lake and watch, okie dokie?”
“Ugh, fine.”  Copia raised an eyebrow when you shivered, the hoodie of his not doing much against the cold of the rink.  Your thin costume underneath didn’t help either.  “I’m fine.”
“Do you ever get tired of pretending to be fine?”
His question stunned you long enough you didn’t even protest when he pulled his coat off and threw it over you.  Copia was grinning when you yanked it off your head, watching as you situated it over yourself for a moment before he headed towards the locker rooms.  You tried very hard not to watch him go but it was near impossible and you were too tired to care.  After a few minutes of looking around you couldn’t help but burrow deeper into his coat, his cologne clinging to the fabric.  You allowed yourself one deep inhale, your eyes closing briefly while you tried to pinpoint the brand.
“Acqua di Gio.”  You flinched, nearly slipping off the bench at Copia’s voice.  “Armani.”
“I know it’s Armani.”
Your voice came out a little harsher than you wanted but luckily he just seemed amused.   After you had settled back into your seat you managed to look him over.  Gone were the sweatpants, he was now just in his sleek skating suit and it was clinging to every dip and curl of muscle on his body.  You didn’t even bother looking back up at his face, you knew by now he’d be smug as all hell.  Instead you noticed a styrofoam cup in his hand, finally meeting his eyes when he held it out towards you.
“Hot cocoa.  To warm you up.”  You timidly reached out and took it, not even minding when his gloved fingers lingered against yours.  “Unless you want more of my clothes.”
“Fuck off.”  His chuckle was starting to become one of your favorite sounds and this was ridiculous, you barely knew him!  You needed to get some distance and clear your head.  “Go on, show me how well you can skate in a circle.”
His only answer was a smirk as he backed away a few steps before heading towards the opening to the rink.  He pulled the covers off his blades, tossing them to the side before shooting out onto the ice.  There were a few others already out there and it was fascinating to see them give Copia space, a sign of deference you supposed.  He nodded their way but didn’t say anything, just started to go through a series of stretches while you all looked on. 
Despite the public setting it felt very private.  Terzo had been sharing a lot of little anecdotes about his brother since you’d both arrived at the Games.  Information you wouldn’t hear about in anything official.  You knew that Copia had been having problems with his knee, that it had been obviously bothering him more and more.  He’d only received one gold in the last games when he normally would get it in all of his events.  Since then he hadn’t competed much, a few European tournaments here and there.
According to Terzo he was saving himself for one last Olympic Games, this Olympic Games.  Copia was determined to go out at the top of his game.  With the way the media and even his brother had depicted him, an extremely serious athlete that seemed to live on the ice it was strange to look back on the last few hours and how he acted.  He was far more carefree than you expected.  Quick to joke around even if it was at your expense.
You had a feeling Paperina didn’t mean what you thought it did.
Your thoughts were interrupted by the distinct sound of skates gliding across the ice.  It was louder than what you were used to but as you looked out towards the rink you easily figured out why.  Copia was a blur as he moved across the ice, his powerful legs pumping him towards each corner.  It was then he’d lower one side of his body down, his fingertips grazing the ice and keeping him balanced until he was through.
“He’s something else, isn’t he?”
You smiled at the man that sat down next to you, someone you had looked forward to seeing as soon as you had arrived at the Olympic Village.
“Hi Primo.”  He gave you a warm smile, knocking his shoulder against yours.  “Did you come to cheer him on?”
“It seems that’s what he brought you for, hmm?”  You rolled your eyes, hunkering further down into Copia’s coat.  “I didn’t realize you two knew each other.”
“We just met actually, a few hours ago.”
“Thick as thieves already then, I’m not surprised.”  He ignored the questioning look you gave him so you shoved your elbow into his side.  “Careful now, I’m an old man.”
“He just feels bad.  Terzo kicked me out.”
“I warned you not to room with him.”  He shook his head but he was clearly not surprised at Terzo’s antics.  “A snowboarder?”
“Nope, hockey.  The captain of the Sweden team.”
“Secondo is going to kill him.”
“Good, then I’ll have the room to myself.���
It was Primo’s turn to elbow you and when you looked his way he nodded towards the rink.  Your eyes immediately found Copia’s as he leaned against the wall.  He had taken his helmet off and his hair was all over the place.  You could see how flushed his cheeks were already, his breathing heavy from the laps he’d put in.
“I don’t know, looks like you might have some company.”
He didn’t give you a chance to say anything back, but you were too dumbfounded to say anything anyway.  Primo waved at his brother before giving your leg a squeeze and getting up.  His movements were a little slower than you remembered but you knew when it was time for his event he’d be gliding across the ice just like he’d been doing for years.  There was a reason he’d led the Italian curling team to so many podiums.
You took a long drink of your cocoa, a little disappointed it had lost most of its warmth.  Copia was still looking your way when you glanced at him although you couldn’t read the expression on his face.  The eye contact was lost when one of the other skaters stopped by him and you let out the breath you’d been holding when he looked away.
This was ridiculous, you were acting like some love struck teenager.  You needed to get a grip.  Neither one of you could afford distractions right now.  Both of you skating with the same goal in mind but for very different reasons.  As if on cue your knee twinged slightly and you slowly stretched it out in front of you.  It was fine, it was going to be fine.  You’d gotten silver in the last two tournaments you’d done leading up to this year's Olympics.  It was fine.
You were fine.
“Hey.”
“Goddammit.”  The man next to you was the same one that had been talking to Copia on the ice.  You took a quick breath and glanced up at him.  “Uh, what’s up?”
“I’m supposed to give you this.”  He thrust another styrofoam cup towards you so you quickly set down the empty one you had been holding.  “And this.”
In his other hand was one of those large soft pretzels that every concession stand on the planet sold.  The kind covered in salt and butter.  They were your favorite thing to get whenever you needed something quick to eat.  You eagerly took it from the man’s hand, muttering a thanks when he nodded and then started walking towards the locker room.
Back on the ice Copia was doing laps again.  Everyone else had left so it was just him out there, although he was acting like he was fighting off a handful of other skaters.  His movements were truly mesmerizing.  Even from your seat you could see his muscles move, see the concentration on his face as he made lap after lap.
He slid to a stop right in front of where you were sitting, catching your eyes as you took a huge bite of the pretzel.  Part of it was sticking out of your mouth as you watched him.  It was too late to try to be ladylike about it so you just ate it how you normally would.   Copia held up a finger, gesturing at his wrist briefly.  One more hour then.  You nodded at him, saluting him with the rest of your pretzel and finding way too much joy in the sound of his laughter echoing from the rink.
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“Is your knee ok?”  
You were on your way back to the dorms, snow starting to softly fall around you.  Copia had taken his hoodie back but you were still wearing his jacket.  His cologne had probably permeated your costume at this point and you were stuck between liking the idea but also dreading the distraction it might bring.
“It’s good, feels good to walk.”  You let your face fall into the neck of his coat, trying to hide your smile.  “How about yours?”
“Eh it will be fine.  A nice massage, some ice and it will be good as new.” 
“I didn’t realize the clinics were open this late.”
“I’ll be massaging it myself, Paperina.  That is unless you’re offering?”
“No!  No I’m not.”  He snorted and was shaking his head when you looked at him again.  “What?”
“You don’t have to be so scandalized.  What’s a little knee massage between friends huh?”
“So we’re friends?”
The automatic doors of the building slid open and you couldn’t help but start to walk faster.  Copia easily picked up his pace to match yours, following you all the way to the elevators towards your section of the dorms.
“Is that what you want?  To be friends?”
There was no denying the charged air between you two.  The attraction between you both had been building ever since he had taken Terzo’s bag from you.  You couldn’t help but take a step back though, wincing when a brief look of disappointment appeared on his face.
“I don’t think we can afford to be anything else.”  You knew your face showed your own disappointment and you didn’t bother trying to hide it.  Your fingers twisted nervously where they were hidden in the sleeves of his coat while you debated on saying what you wanted to.  Fuck it.  “At least for right now.”
“Right now?”  His smile was back as he walked towards you.  It grew slightly predatory when you started to back away, only stopping when your back hit the wall by the elevator doors.  “Then when can that change?”
“After our events.  We can’t get distrac—oh.”  Copia had pressed forward, resting his forearms against the wall by your head.  He had showered in the locker room but there was still the slight smell of sweat on him.  His head dropped close enough you felt his lips brush ever so slightly against your cheek.  “Copia…”
“Our events then.  After we get gold, yeah?” 
“Yes.  At least I hope so.”
“Don’t worry Paperina,”  Copia stepped back, smiling smugly as he held your gaze.  “I’ll give you one of mine if you don’t.”  
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Thankfully the sock was gone when you got back to the room.  
You quietly opened the door, peeking in but not seeing anyone inside.  They must have been able to go back to Omega’s room.  You took advantage of the emptiness, quickly shucking Copia’s coat and tossing it over a chair.  The next part was your costume, you had to be extra careful removing it.  The last thing you wanted to worry about doing was losing more damn feathers.  
The shower felt heavenly and you got it as hot as you dared.  The scent of Copia’s cologne that was lingering on your skin washed off quickly but you tried not to dwell on it.  It was obvious you’d be seeing him again.  He certainly didn’t seem like the type to give up easily, much like his brothers.  You snorted thinking of his last comment.  The Emeritus’s were a cocky bunch, but it was with good reason.
You took a deep breath and tried to clear all of the Emeritus brothers out of your mind.  It was tough like usual to get all the hairspray washed out of your hair but once you were done you allowed yourself to just relax and lean against the wall.  Looking down your body you watched the soap slowly fall over your skin and down onto the tile.  Your eyes fell onto your knee like they usually did when there was nothing covering it and it made you wince like always.
It wasn’t so much that you thought it was ugly, to you it was a mark of survival.  Not that it was necessarily a life threatening thing.  In reality a fall while doing a jump could have gone far, far worse than it did.  But landing on your knee had been excruciating.  Laying out there on the ice in front of thousands of people had been excruciating.  However the two years you had spent rehabbing it had been worse.
The multiple surgeries, the constant appointments for physical therapy…  It felt like you had practically lived at the hospital for those two years.  But you had been determined to come back from it.  You were too young to let your dream go.  Your eyes were drawn to your knee like always, to the scars that ran along the sides.  The doctor had jokingly said that shorts and short skirts might not be in your future and it had taken so much willpower not to punch him.  
Your scars were proof that you had survived the injury.  That you hadn’t let it stop you from pursuing what you had been doing since you were a kid.  Since you could even stand up on skates.  This is what you had always wanted to do, what you had dreamed of.  The Winter Olympics were the pinnacle of that dream.  You were determined to get on that podium this year.  You wanted to show everyone that nothing would stop you from getting there.
Copia’s face appeared in your mind then.  You could imagine his smug grin as he teased you.  You thought of the way he smelled, the way he covered you in his scent by loaning you his coat.  You thought of his body in his uniform, how powerful his legs were.  He could probably hold you up easily, maybe push one of his knees between your legs and let you straddle his thick thigh.
Your head fell back against the shower wall, a little zing of pleasure running through you at the thought.  Almost absentmindedly you placed your hand on your stomach, rubbing it over your skin in a few circles before letting it slip down further and into the thatch of hair between your legs.  You thought of grinding against Copia’s thigh, your feet probably not even touching the ground because he was holding you up so high.  
Two of your fingers rubbed tight circles over your clit as you fell deeper into your fantasy.  Copia’s fingers were thick, it was obvious even with them hidden under those gloves.  They were thick and they’d feel amazing stroking inside of you.  You brought your other hand to your cunt and rubbed across your entrance.  A moan punched out of you when you pressed two of them inside.  There was barely any resistance you were already so turned on just by thinking about Copia doing this to you.
He probably loved to dirty talk, he probably loved describing all the things he planned on doing to you.  Your fingers pumped faster imagining the filthy things he would whisper in your year.  Things he would do to you if you only asked.  You’d more than ask, you’d beg for it if you had to.  You couldn’t help but admit to yourself that you wanted everything.  His mouth, his fingers, his cock...
You wanted it all.
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The next few days went by in a blur.
Both you and Terzo were focused on practicing for your upcoming events.  You each had a short and long program to skate, the combined scores of both decided your final place in the standings.  Despite the importance of it all Terzo did manage to skip out a lot to meet up with Omega.  You had met him a few times by now as well and you had immediately liked him.  He was just the kind of partner Terzo needed.  Honestly he was the kind of partner you wanted.
Of course thinking about partners had your stupid mind drifting to Copia.  You hadn’t seen him at all since that night, only catching glimpses of his face on the tv screens or the odd magazine laying around the lounge and cafeteria.  It wasn’t like you expected to spend all your time with him, but it made that whole night feel surreal.  Terzo hadn’t been super helpful about the whole thing.  With romance on his brain he had started going on about all these elaborate scenarios featuring you and Copia.  Olympic themed dates and Olympic themed gifts.  
The Olympic themed wedding talk was the last straw and you had demanded he leave the room for a bit that night.  You knew he had planned on doing that anyway, Omega’s team was practicing and watching him play had become Terzo’s favorite new thing.  Well, that and fucking him probably.  So with the room empty it was time for you to do something you always did before events, especially after your accident at the last Olympic Games.  It just wasn’t something you enjoyed in any way, shape or form.    
You hated reviewing training footage.  It was frustrating going over your previous performances and pinpointing where you had made mistakes.  Where you had turned a triple axel into a double.  Where you’d missed the timing on a jump.  Where you’d stumbled on a landing.
Where you had fallen and nearly destroyed your career.
In your coach’s defense he never made you watch that one again.  Rewatching that was something you did on your own.  Terzo always hated it and would call it self destructive.  That was part of the reason you were alone in your room tonight.  He had seen you break out your laptop and left to meet Omega earlier than planned. 
You’d been surprised he wasn’t out with Copia celebrating his brother’s win but Terzo had said Copia wasn’t much for celebrating until the games were completely done.  Of course when that thought crossed through your mind you immediately blushed.  The memory of that night with him was something you had been replaying a lot, especially the ending and the deal you had made. 
Before you could talk yourself out of it you searched for the race he was in today, quickly hitting play when it came up.  Not surprisingly the announcers were talking about Copia most of the time.  Even if it wasn’t his last Olympics he was still the most well known athlete there, the most decorated.  You watched as he warmed up and briefly chatted with his fellow racers.  He looked so at ease, like he wasn’t about to race his heart out for one of the final times in his career.
You really envied him.  He had so much pressure on him but just looking at him smiling on the ice you would think it was just another day.  Even though you knew the result you found yourself holding your breath as everyone waited for the race to begin.  When they took off Copia easily got to the front, quickly putting distance between himself and the others.  The camera stayed on him and you got to see the muscles of his legs flex and move up close.  You could see the determination in his eyes, the lights in the arena reflected off both but especially the odd white one his family was all born with.
It was always strange to you when something so important, so pivotal to someone’s career was over in just a few moments.  Copia crossed the finish line with ease, one arm pumping briefly into the air as he flashed a dazzling smile to the crowd.  The camera panned briefly to where his brothers were seated.  Terzo looked ridiculous in his big faux fur coat but it made you smile to see Omega swing an arm over his shoulders.  There was more between your friend and the hockey captain than just an “Olympic Village fling”, that was obvious.
Primo looked proud like he always did, no matter how well his younger brothers did in their events.  Next to Primo, looking stern but proud, was Secondo.  He was dressed in one of his typical three piece suits, clapping and cheering with the crowd.  The camera soon panned away and back onto the ice.  Copia was standing patiently next to the second and third place winners but you kept noticing his eyes darting out into the stands.  You knew he had seen his brothers, family was always seated around the same area, so you were curious who he seemed to be looking for.  He almost looked disappointed after taking a final scan of the crowd before being ushered onto the podium. 
The thought crossed your mind briefly that he might have been looking for you but that was ridiculous.  While Terzo had invited you it had seemed a little too much to go watch Copia’s race.  You hadn’t really sorted out exactly what you were feeling towards him.  Obviously physical attraction but there was something else there, something that made your insides flutter when you thought about him. 
Watching him at the top of the podium, handsome and beaming as the gold medal was slipped over his head didn’t help.  He shook hands with the official that gave him the medal and then his fellow athletes before standing tall again.  The camera panned up to the Italian flag hanging higher than the others, only going back to Copia when his national anthem started playing. 
You watched as his lips moved, mouthing along to the lyrics being played.  His makeup was slightly smeared from sweat but it did nothing to detract from his handsome features.  When the music swelled he appeared to be full on singing, his throat bobbing as he did so.  Your mind went back to when you were walking to the dorms in the snow after watching him practice.  His shoulder knocking against yours, his coat warm over your stupid costume and the smell of his cologne embedding itself in your brain.
There was definitely something more there. 
An abrupt knock on the door had you pausing the video, the screen freezing right as Copia was looking directly into the camera.
“Who is it?”  After no one answered you focused back on the screen again but another set of knocks echoed through the room.  You groaned, figuring it might be Terzo trying to get back in.  The knocking continued as you unfolded your legs and hopped off your bed.  “Terzo I told you to make sure you had your key!”
You unlocked and flung the door open, ready to bitch at your friend some more but the face on the other side was not your roommate.
“Paperina.”  Copia’s eyes swept over you, making you immediately self conscious of the old, oversized sweats you were wearing.  “No feathers today?” 
“Not today, no.”  You fiddled with the zipper on your hoodie while you let your eyes wander over him.  He was wearing all black, a color that definitely suited him.  Your eyes couldn’t help but linger on how his tight jeans clung to his thighs and when you finally glanced up he was pleased as hell about it.  “Tomorrow is the short program.” 
“Are you ready?” 
While you desperately wanted to say no and that you were scared out of your mind you squared your shoulders and gave him the most convincing smile you could manage.
“Yes, yes I am.”  You both stood there for a moment in silence, staring at each other.  After what seemed like an eternity you finally snapped.  “What is it?  I’m busy.”
“Are you?”  He pushed off from the door jam and looked around you into the room.  “Doesn’t seem like there’s much going on.” 
“I’m watching my old rout—hey!” 
Copia easily walked around you, strolling into the room like he’d been there a hundred times.  You glared at his back briefly before deciding to just shut the door.  When you turned your eyes looked on, horrified as you watched him look down at your laptop screen, a wild grin breaking out on his face.
“You know Paperina, you could have come today.”  He grunted as he dropped onto the bed, stretching out in front of your computer.  “I told Terzo to bring you.” 
“Like I said,”  You stomped over to your bed and grabbed your laptop away from him.  “I was busy.  Am busy.  So you should go.” 
Copia sighed as he rolled into his back and tucked his hands under his head. 
“I was a little disappointed you didn’t come.”    His admission had you freezing next to the little desk you were setting your laptop on.  “You could’ve seen the whole thing up close.”
“I told you—“
“Sí, sí.  Busy.  I can tell.”  He was grinning when you spun around to glare at him.  “You shouldn’t be cooped up in here all night.” 
“I’m not cooped up, I’m getting ready for tomorrow.”
“Paperina, how many times have you done this routine?”  He turned onto his side and propped his head up on one hand.  “Watching old videos won’t help.”
“Yes, they do.  I can see where I messed up and fix it.” 
“Weren’t you there though?  You know where you made the mistakes already.  What does torturing yourself by watching them do?”
“It’s not torture!”
“Then what is it?”  His voice was gentle as he watched you, the concern evident as he spoke.  “How many times do you need to see them?”
“As many times as it takes.”
“You’re just going to be more nervous for tomorrow.”
“Look, you’re not my coach or a figure skater so don’t come in here trying to tell me how to prepare.”
“Ah yes, what do I know?  I just skate in circles.”  He groaned as he sat up, his eyes not leaving you.  “I do know that dwelling on past mistakes won’t help you.  No matter what sport you’re in.”
“Look, I need to watch them.”
“Paperina, you haven’t given me a good enough reason why.”
“Because I can’t fuck up again!”  Your eyes stung with the tears building up in them but it was too late to stop now.  It felt like the knot that had been building in your chest since the accident four years ago was finally unraveling.  “Copia, I can’t.  This is my last chance.  In four years I’ll be too old to compete against anyone here.”
You weren’t sure how long you stared at each other but it was long enough for your breathing to calm and your tears to fade.  As you were about to ask him to go he pushed himself off the bed and clapped his hands together. 
“We need to get you out of here.”
“Have you been listening to anything I’ve been saying?!”
“Sí, I heard all the bullshit you told me.”  He looked around the room, letting out a little noise when he saw his coat hanging off your chair.  “We’re going out.”
“No, Copia I can’t.”
“What did you just say?   ‘This is your last chance’?  That means it’s also your last chance to enjoy yourself here.”
“I am enjoying myself.”  When he raised an eyebrow you groaned and shook your head.  “What would we even do anyway?”
“Celebrate.”  He gave you an exaggerated pout when you just stared at him.  “My gold medal isn’t a good enough reason to celebrate?  Coming with me is the least you could do Paperina.”
“What do you mean?”
“I saved you a spot and everything.  Kept hoping I’d see you in the stands...”  Copia sighed dramatically and shook his coat out before he held it up for you.  “Remember what we talked about the other night?”
Hopefully the look on your face didn’t make it obvious you had been practically only thinking about that.
“We agreed on after our events.” 
“It is after an event though.”
“Yes, one event, Copia!  You have three more medals to compete for and I have two skate programs.”
“Just a small celebration then.”  You rolled your eyes when he pouted again.  “Per favore.” 
“How small?”
He grinned and tossed his coat at you before looking around the room.  He let out a triumphant noise when he saw your boots, grabbing them and thrusting them at you as well.
“Very small.  I know just the place.” 
“We can’t be gone long.”  He nodded as he rocked back on his heels.  “And no funny business.”
“Paperina, I will be completely serious.  I won’t even smile.” 
You snorted as you dropped your boots and shoved your feet into them.  His coat was next and it was as comfortable as you remembered when you pulled it on.
“So. Where are we going?”
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“I can’t fucking believe you.”
Copia hadn’t stopped smiling as soon as you’d seen where he was taking you.  The building hadn’t been too far from the Olympic Village, a few blocks and you found yourself staring up at an old ice rink.  You looked on in disbelief as Copia walked up to the glass doors and peered inside.  The place was obviously closed but after a few knocks on the door an older man had come up to let you both in.
“You’ve got two hours Emeritus, that’s it.”
“Grazie, plenty of time.”  Copia turned and held his hand out for you.  “Paperina?”
Copia led you through the building, seemingly unbothered by the lack of lights.  His gloved hand was warm and in the dark you let yourself look down at it, trusting him to guide you where he wanted to go.  When he gave it a squeeze you looked up, noticing you were in front of the skate rental booth.
“Copia, what are we doing here?”
“What does it look like?”  He let go of your hand and walked around the counter, disappearing for a moment before coming back with an armful of ice skates.  “Here these should fit.”
“Ice skating is our job!  Why would you want to come here on your night off?”
“Because ice skating should be fun and you need to remember that.”  He came around the counter and took your hand again.  “When was the last time you had fun out on the ice?”
It was startling to you when your mind drew a blank.  Even the times you’d been out there practicing with Terzo all you remember feeling was stress.  You resisted when he tried to tug you towards the rink.
“What if we get hurt?”
“Don’t do any triple axels and I think you’ll be fine.”  When you stayed put as he tried to go to the rink again he sighed.  To your surprise he dropped his skates and turned around, coming right into your space and cupping your cheeks.  “Paperina, I promise that you will have fun.”
You closed your eyes for a few seconds, letting the heat from his hands and gloves warm your cheeks. 
“I want a pretzel.”
Copia let out a bark of laughter, leaning forward and resting his forehead against yours.
“I think the concession stand is closed.” 
“That’s the price.  One pretzel.”
“Okie dokie.  I’ll see what I can do.” 
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You ended up with two pretzels and that fluttering feeling in your chest getting worse. 
After banging around trying to first find the pretzels the next problem was sorting out how to heat them.  Copia had been attempting to get the little heater rack going when the owner had stomped over with an exasperated look on his face. 
“Really, Emeritus?”
“The lady is hungry!” 
The man had grabbed the two pretzels and disappeared into the back.  While he worked you and Copia had made your way to the rink, throwing your coats over the wall and sitting down to get your skates on.  They definitely weren’t as nice as you normally wore and you tried not to think of how clean they might be, but it was actually helping you relax a bit.  You hadn’t skated in a rink like this since you were a kid first taking lessons.  There was zero pressure here, just you and the ice.
Well…Copia and his thighs too.
It was unfair how good he looked in those jeans.  You tried not to stare but that only ended with your eyes wandering elsewhere.  He had some random band tee over a long sleeve shirt.  His gloves were still on as well as the dark gray scarf he’d been wearing since he showed up at your door.  He looked good, he probably looked good in everything.  He probably looked really good in noth—
“Here’s your damn pretzels.”
You grabbed them when the owner thrusted them in front of your face, setting one down next to you and biting into the other.  He and Copia appeared to be having a somewhat heated conversation but you chose to ignore it and focus on your food.  Copia was right, you needed to enjoy your time here.  And not just here at the rink but during the entire two weeks the Olympics were going on.  You were so lucky to have this chance and while you didn’t want to mess it up, you also wanted to look back on it fondly no matter what happened. 
“Okie dokie, two hours!” 
Copia plopped down next to you, grabbing the second pretzel and taking a bite. 
“Hey that’s mine!”
“These actually aren’t bad, Paperina.”  You took a big bite of your own and glared at him.  “Not going to help me get into my suit tomorrow but eh, oh well.”
“You’ll still look good, don’t worry.”  As soon as you realized what you said you froze, sneaking a glance at him and sighing when you saw his grin.  “Don’t.”
“You’ll look good too.  Bellissima.”  He shoved the rest of the pretzel in his mouth and then pulled the skates on.  “I can’t wait to see you in those feathers again.” 
“Wait, you’re coming?” 
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”  You hid your pleased smile by leaning down and getting the skates on although when you sat up he was still watching you.  “It’s the next event anyway, I’ll want to collect on our deal.” 
“Technically the short program is part of one event, one medal.  I still have the long program.” 
Copia walked in front of you and held his hands out, a gesture you were getting used to.  When he had pulled you up and helped steady you on the unfamiliar skates he leaned in closer, his handsome face taking up your vision.
“I think we can bend the rules a bit again, don’t you?”
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Being on the ice with Copia was a blast.
While you both agreed on no racing or jumping it wasn’t long before you were squealing and shoving your way past him to get to the end of the rink first.  Luckily you were both still getting used to the new skates, in Copia’s case they were a lot different than his usual ones so it gave you a good advantage.  Your triumphant whoop at hitting the end of the rink before him was drowned out by you screeching when he grabbed you and dug his fingers into your sides.
“No!  Copi—ahh!  Stop, stop!”  You were laughing despite your frantic protests.  Finally pushing him away and out of reach.  “You’re just jealous I’m better on the ice than you.” 
“Paperina, if I had my regular skates on I’d be able to lap you twice before you hit the end.” 
“Whatever helps you sleep at night, handsome.” 
You skated away so you wouldn’t have to see his smug grin but also to hide your blush.  There really wasn’t a point in hiding your attraction to him anymore, but that didn’t mean you needed to make it easy on him.  You were nearly half the rink away from him when you heard him coming up behind you.  The sounds of his blades sliding across the ice was loud and you weren’t surprised to see him blow by you.  But instead of turning the corner to show off his speed he suddenly threw his arms out and then leapt into the air, executing a near perfect jump, spinning and landing with a flourish. 
Copia stayed where he was as you skated up to him with a stunned look on your face.  You were both surprised and irritated he had managed to pull it off so well.  Of course you’d seen his brother do it plenty of times but that was his area of expertise.  Copia wasn’t a figure skater.
“How…how did you…?”
“Do you need me to show you how the move works?”  He held up his hands when you glared at him.  “I grew up with Terzo, Paperina.  I’d practice with him sometimes.”
“‘Sometimes’ huh?”  You shook your head in disbelief, beginning to skate closer to him.  “Is there anything you aren’t good at?”
“Kissing.”
His answer startled you enough you tried to stop and ended up losing your balance.  Copia’s hands shooting out and grabbing you around your waist were the only thing that kept you upright.  You found yourself placing your hands on his shoulders as his own slid further around you and rested at the small of your back. 
“Kissing?”
“Sí.  I’m terrible at it.” 
“Oh. Well, that’s a shame.”  He nodded solemnly, the twinkle in his eyes the only thing giving away the joke.  “You should try to get some practice in.”
“Will you help me, Paperina?”
You wanted to say yes, you wanted to shout yes.  But you really didn’t need to say anything, it was obviously what you both wanted right then.  You leaned in at the same time as Copia, your lips touching gently against each other for only a moment before the movements became more intense.  Copia kept one arm around your waist but the other he slid up to cradle the back of your head.  You wrapped your own arms around his neck and pushed your fingers into his hair.  When he urged your head to tilt to the side his mouth opened over yours and you let out a tiny moan when his tongue pushed inside.
As you flicked your own tongue against his you pressed yourself as close to him as possible.  Kissing on ice skates was definitely not ideal and you nearly bit his tongue when he tugged you closer and you almost fell.  Copia pulled away with a growl, both of his hands going down to grip your ass as he gently pushed you backwards.  You couldn’t take your eyes off his already swollen lips but when your back hit the side of the rink you glanced up to meet his mismatched gaze.
He took his hands off your ass and used one to cup your face, the other pressed against the concrete wall that was on one side of the rink.  It looked like he was going to say something but thought better of it, his mouth lowering once more to yours.  This kiss was immediately hot and dirty, your tongues fighting each other for some unknown prize.  A deep groan vibrated in his chest when you nipped and sucked on his and he pressed his body even harder against yours.  
When you started to lose your footing on the ice again Copia shoved his knee between your legs, pushing it against the wall.  He gripped your hips with both hands and lifted you, propping you up so his strong thigh was basically the only thing keeping you upright.  The muscle pressing against you and the heat from his leg along with the friction against your core had you whimpering into his mouth.  Copia pulled his mouth away from you and leaned his forehead against yours once more.
“I knew you’d be like this.”  He tugged your hips back and forth to rub you against him even more deliciously and you panted into his mouth.  “So responsive for me.  I bet you’re already wet too.”
“What about you?”  Copia groaned when you reached down and rubbed his hardening dick through his jeans.  “Looks like I’m not the only one.”
With a growl he kissed you again, nipping at your lips and tongue.  His mustache tickled your skin and you knew you’d have to apply extra makeup tomorrow to hide the redness.  Honestly you didn’t care what he did at the moment, you just wanted him to keep kissing you.  You had one arm wrapped around his neck for balance but you pushed your other hand back into his hair, scratching at his scalp and enjoying the way he groaned at the contact.  When Copia pulled one hand off your hip you expected to feel it delve into your own hair but instead his warm palm covered your breast and it was your turn to groan when he rubbed his thumb across your hardening nipple.
If it wasn’t for the sudden blast of music blaring across the speakers you probably would have let him fuck you right there on the ice.  Copia pulled away, a violent series of Italian curses falling from his lips.  Thankfully he helped keep you steady because at the moment your legs were in no shape to keep you on your feet.  You chose to cling to his shirt and bury your face in his chest to try to catch your breath as you felt him jerk his head around looking for the culprit.  When the music stopped you heard the voice of the owner over the intercom.
“Time’s up Emeritus!  Take the lady to bed at least!”   
You snorted against Copia, smiling when you heard him laugh too.  He was keeping a firm grip on you, one hand rubbing up and down your back when he felt you shiver.  It had little to do with the cold though.  Your body was still coming down from the pleasure that had built up inside of you and when you moved you could feel Copia was still slightly hard.  He hissed when you moved against him again.
“Quit that, we have an audience.”
“You started it.”
He laughed again, cupping your face so he could tilt it up and you could meet his eyes.
“I didn’t hear any complaints from you.  Just “Oh Copia, yes Copia.  Hey!”  He barely caught his balance when you pushed him away, his arms flailing wildly as you started skating towards the exit.  You had just placed a hand on the wall to step out of the rink when he came up behind you, his hands finding your hips and pulling you back against him so he could lean down and whisper into your ear.  “You will be saying that to me eventually, Paperina.  I promise you.”
He helped you step out of the rink, his hand not leaving the small of your back until you were at the bench where your things were.  Copia knelt down in front of you and batted your hands away so he could untie your laces and slip the skates off your feet.  You flexed them when they were free, happy to have them out of the unfamiliar skates.  When Copia took your right foot in his hand you gasped.  It turned into a quiet moan when he began to dig his thumbs into the sole and massage the tightness out.
“Oh!  Right there.”  You bit your lip to try to keep all the noises you wanted to make from escaping.  Copia’s fingers were magic, not that you should be surprised.  “Yes, Copia that’s perfect.”
“See?  Only took a few minutes.”  
When you realized what he meant you couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head at his antics.  He switched to your other foot with a grin and gave it the same attention before finally pulling away to get his own skates off.  The owner was waiting for you at the front and thankfully didn’t say anything as you slipped by.  You knew your hair was probably a mess, not to mention how swollen your lips were.  At least the coat Copia had on was long enough to cover his crotch.  By how stiff he was walking it was obvious he was still a little hard and you smiled smugly as you walked ahead of him.
“You owe me Emeritus.”
“Sí, sí.”  Copia finished talking to the owner and then jogged to catch up with you, quickly grabbing your hand when he did.  You couldn’t stop yourself from leaning into him a bit, especially with the air having gotten colder.  “So, did you have fun?”
“It was ok.”  
When he gasped dramatically you tucked your head into his arm for a moment to try and warm up your nose.  He clicked his tongue and stopped, tugging at his scarf to release it.  When he started wrapping it around your neck you suddenly couldn’t meet his eyes.  The act felt intimate, much more so than what had just happened in the rink.  Copia leaned in to kiss your cold nose when he was done.
“I’m going to have to buy more clothes soon if you keep taking them all.”  You were about to respond when you noticed a familiar looking ribbon under the color of his shirt.  Copia caught you looking and smiled, grabbing it and then pulling it out so you could see.  The gold medal he earned that day shone under the streetlamp and you tentatively reached out to touch it.  “You don’t get this one, Paperina.”
“You’re right, I’ll be getting my own soon.”
He grinned, shoving the medal back under his shirt and then taking your hand again.  The walk back to the village was quiet.  The only sounds coming from the snow crunching under your shoes and the occasional conversations from people passing you by.  The lounge was still busy despite the hour and Copia kept you close as crowds of athletes moved around you both.  He didn’t let go of your hand when you got into the elevator or even when you got to the door of your room, giving it a quick squeeze as you shoved your key into the door.
“Is Terzo here?”
“No, he said he’d be staying with Omega tonight.”
“Ah, young love.”  You smiled, looking down at your hand in his until another squeeze had you meeting his eyes.  “Will you be ok by yourself, Paperina?”
“I will lock my door and not let any strangers in, I promise.”
“Tsk, that’s not what I meant.  I don’t want you ah, ‘reviewing the tapes’.”
You winced, feeling a little guilty because for some reason you had debated on doing that.  But no, Copia was right.  That wasn’t going to do you any good.
“Nope, straight to bed for me.”
It was on the tip of your tongue to invite him in and the more you thought about it the more you wanted it to happen.  But it was already late and there was no way you’d get any sleep with Copia in bed with you.  He gave you a small smile before bringing his free hand to his mouth and tugging his glove off with his teeth.  When he was done he brought it to his scarf and started to tug it loose from your neck.  You thought he was going to pull it off at first but he just pushed it away enough so he could cup your cheek.  His thumb brushed along your bottom lip and you couldn’t help but stick your tongue out and touch his skin.  Copia groaned and crowded you back against the door.
“I’m trying to be good and follow your rules here but you are making it very difficult.”
“You already broke the rules by coming here in the first place.”
“Eh, more like adjusted them a bit.”  He sucked his full bottom lip between his teeth while his eyes dropped to your own lips.  “It was worth it though, sÍ?”
“Yes, thank you for doing this.”  
Copia smiled and dropped a kiss on your forehead.
“We’ll get to do this again tomorrow night, yeah?  After your event?”
“I told you, it’s just the short program.  There’s no medal tomorrow.”
“But it’s important.  Right?”  When you nodded he cocked his head to the side for a moment.  “Fifth place or better.”
“What?”
“Your scores, if you get fifth place or better we’ll have another date.”  
You thought about it for a moment and then nodded.  Fifth place or higher would put you in a good position before your long program later in the week.  Your combined scores, as long as you skated well, would put you in contention for a medal.  You desperately wanted gold but you were starting to realize any medal would be amazing.  A great achievement after your injury and the long recovery.  You just wanted on that podium, that’s all.  It was doable and after tonight with Copia you felt like you’d make it up there.
As long as you skated well.
“Fifth place or better.  I can do that.”
“You will do that, Paperina.”  He squeezed your hand one last time before letting go.  “I’ll be there to cheer you on.”
“Oh, Copia no.  You don’t have to do that.”
“I actually do, Primo is making me.  Ai!”  He grunted when your fist connected with his shoulder, laughing and grabbing your hand when you tried to do it again.  His mustache tickled the back of it when he dropped a kiss there.  Copia grinned as he dropped your hand, reaching out to tap the tip of your nose.  “Besides, there’s something important I have to see.”
“Yeah?  What’s that?”
He moved back a few steps and winked, the grin still fixed on his face.
“Those feathers in action.”
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To say you were worried was an understatement.
You just needed to get above fifth, that’s all.  Fifth or higher and you had a chance just like Copia had said, just like you had been repeating in your head all morning.  Hardly anyone came back from a lower place than that after the short program.  It’s not that you would give up if you got below fifth, but getting a medal at these games would be near impossible at that point.  So.  Fifth or better.  
Terzo had managed third, a fact that he had been crowing about since it happened.  The men had skated that morning and while you should have been practicing you ignored your coach’s recommendation and came to watch Terzo perform.  Omega and Secondo both had games that morning so it had been just you and Primo.  The eldest brother had probably been the loudest out of anyone else in the crowd as Terzo worked his ass off skating to his music.
To the surprise of no one Terzo had chosen an ABBA song.
“Paperina, you look nervous.”
At Copia’s voice you jumped, nearly losing your balance.  He reached out and grabbed your hands, not letting go until you were steady again on your feet.  You quickly looked around to see if anyone had seen you but thankfully everyone was busy either talking to the skater that had just performed or cleaning the rink.  When you looked back at Copia he was grinning.
“What are you doing here?”
“I told you I was going to come.”
“Yes but you should be in the stands, not back here.”  He shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal, reaching out and fingering one of the feathers at your waist.  You had another quick look around, wincing when you saw your coach glaring at you.  “Quit that.”
He hissed when you slapped his hand away from your costume and shoved his hands into his pockets.  A reporter sidled closer and you sighed.  It would have been easy to spot Copia even if he wasn’t wearing a bright green, white and red tracksuit that didn’t say Italy all over it.  You wondered what story the reporter would come up with.
“Remember, fifth or higher.”  
“Yes, yes I know.”
“But first is better, yeah?”  He brought a hand up to his neck and pulled his medal out from yesterday, the gold catching on all the bright lights in the arena.  “You see?  Gold.”
“It’s not actually gold you moron.”  The reporter was definitely interested now and you noticed another one whose interest had been piqued.  “Put that thing away.”
“Fine, fine.  You’ll be begging to see it later though.”  
“I will scratch your eyes out if you wink at me again.”
“You’re very aggressive, Paperina.  Is it the nerves?”  He reached out and grabbed one of your hands, rubbing his thumb back and forth along the back.  “What do you have to be nervous about?  You’re going to do amazing.”
You stopped glaring at the reporters and met Copia’s eyes.  His gaze was steady as he watched you, his thumb still rubbing your hand.  He was wearing gloves like usual, these ones black leather and the material was warm against your cold skin.  You took a deep breath and straightened your shoulders.
“I’m not nervous.”  He smiled and gave your hand a squeeze before letting go.  “I can do this.”
“I know you can.”  
You nodded, trying to give him a confident smile and hoping you pulled it off.  When you glanced back out over the ice it was empty and the announcers were gearing up for your routine.  Your coach popped up in the corner of your eye and took a deep breath trying to clear your head.  This was it.  You hadn’t spent years preparing for this to blow it at the last moment.  Before you headed over to your coach you looked back at Copia and tried to give him a confident smile.
“Wish me luck.”
“I would say ‘break a leg’ but that would be very bad, don’t do that.”  He just laughed when you glared at him.  Copia took a quick look around before stepping forward so no one else would hear him.  “I want to celebrate with you later, Paperina.  Don’t mess it up.”
You sighed when you heard a few cameras click, knowing they caught the intimate moment.  Copia didn’t seem to care, turning to give the photographers a smile before looking back at you.  The announcers called your name and your coach came up to urge you toward the rink.  With one last look at Copia you moved away and took a deep steadying breath.
Messing up wasn’t an option, you wanted to celebrate with him too.
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You ended up third.
When the music had ended and you stood out there in your final position you had been so overcome with emotion.  So much hard work, so many long hours and now it was finally over with.  Well, at least the short program was.  You’d be back out there for the long skate in a few days.  That was something to worry about later though, preferably tomorrow.  Tonight you planned on celebrating and pushing all your other worries out of your mind.
You also planned on burning this damn costume too.
As flowers and stuffed animals rained down on the ice you eagerly skated off and were quickly whisked away by your coach.  Then came the usual song and dance of watching the judges post your scores, more screaming and crying and finally giving a few interviews to the various reporters milling about.  By the time you were done with it all the last skater had competed and you had gotten the confirmation about your third place finish.  The sense of relief you felt followed you all the way to the locker room where you quickly threw your track suit over your costume, grabbed your things and headed out.
Right as you were messing with your phone to try and see where Terzo had gone off to a pair of strong arms wrapped around you from behind and you were lifted off the ground.
“Amica mia!  You did it!”  You let Terzo swing you around a bit before spinning in his arms and hugging him back.  “I told you!”
Your emotions were getting the best of you so you just clung to your friend a little tighter for a moment, feeling so thankful for him.  You didn’t let go until a throat cleared nearby and when you looked to who had made the noise you were met with Copia’s pleased smile.
“Well done Paperina.”  You smiled back, fighting the urge to run into his arms.  Your adrenaline was still high from performing and it felt like electricity was sparking along your skin.  With Copia’s eyes on you the feeling was even stronger.  “I knew you could do it.”
“Thank you Copia.”  When he pulled an arm from behind his back you felt your cheeks pink at the rose he held in his hand.  You pulled away from Terzo and shyly walked over to take it from Copia’s fingers, your own twitching a bit when they made contact with his warm gloves.  “Did you buy this or pick it up off the rink?”
“I stole it from that idiot that got first.”  He grinned when you rolled your eyes.  “Should’ve been you, Paperina.”
“What did you call her?”  Copia shot his brother a glare and you turned around to look at Terzo.  “Paperina?”
“Zitto, Terzo!”
“Wait, what’s going on?”  You looked from brother to brother, Terzo looked on the verge of laughter while Copia just continued to glare at him.  “It’s just because of my costume, Terzo.  Swan Lake.”
“SÍ, but Paperina doesn’t me–hey, what the fuck?!”  Terzo snarled at Copia after being hit in the head with the stuffed bear.  “She’ll find out eventually!”
“Find out what?”  When neither brother said anything you growled and walked over to your things.  “Whatever, I’m going back to my room.”
“No, wait!”  You stopped when Terzo called out, raising an eyebrow when he gave you a sheepish look.  “I was actually hoping to have the room to myself tonight.”
“Oh come on!  Where am I supposed to sleep then?”
Both you and Terzo turned to stare at Copia when he cleared his throat.  
“You can stay with me, Paperina.”  There was that fluttering again, your heart feeling like it was skipping a beat or two.  He wandered over to where the bear had landed and then came to exchange it for your gear bag.  “Didn’t I say we’d be celebrating?”
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Copia’s mouth was latched onto your neck before the door to his room was closed.
“No, no–ah!  No marks.  Not where people can see them.”  
He pulled away with a growl, capturing your mouth again instead.  As his tongue roughly toyed with yours he brought a hand to your thigh and lifted your leg up to wrap around his waist.  It gave him enough room to start grinding against you, his sweatpants doing little to hide his hard cock.  You whimpered when it pressed between your legs, the thin material of your tights doing little to block yourself from him.
“I could probably sink into you right now, couldn’t I?”  You nodded weakly, thunking your head back against the door when he ground even harder against you.  “I could rip these tights open and have you screaming my name.”
“Yes!  Copia please.”  
You could see him smirking through your half lidded eyes, the intense pleasure of him rubbing against your cunt making it hard to keep them open.  His hands started fiddling with your skirt, the feathers rustling as he pushed it higher up your stomach.  
“Will you be wearing this again?”
“What?”  You blinked at his question, not sure what he was getting at.  “What do you mean?”
“I’m about to rip it off of you, is that ok Paperina?”  He was barely done with his question before you were vigorously nodding your head.  With a growl he had his hands at the top of your tights and the room filled with the sound of ripping fabric.  You shivered when the cool air hit your exposed flesh, moaning when he dragged a bare finger through your cunt.  “Cazzo, so wet for me already.”
He added a second finger, rubbing them up and down between your lips.  The slick sounds of them moving seemed so loud you were worried that anyone walking down the hallway would hear it.  When they teased at your entrance you let out a loud gasp, a loud bang echoing around you when your head fell back against the door again.
People would definitely have heard that.
“You are so responsive, so beautiful.”  The tips of his fingers pushed into you slightly before pulling out.  He repeated the motion over and over again, going deeper each time.  “I can’t wait to fuck you with my cock.”
“Then do it.  I want it.”
Copia growled and slammed his mouth against yours right as he pushed his fingers in as far as they’d go.  You moaned into his mouth, thankful that it muffled you at least a little bit.  His fingers worked in and out of you hard and fast as he kissed you heatedly.  You wrapped your arms tight around his neck, pushing up on your toes a bit so the angle of his thrusting fingers was a little better.  He started rubbing them harder against your inner walls, catching at the spot inside of you that had you pulling away from his mouth and nearly wailing in pleasure.
“Just this tonight, we still have a few events left after all.”  He kissed you again, this time the kiss a little softer but no less passionate.  As his fingers on one hand continued to fuck you he brought his other hand close and started rubbing his thumb against your clit.  “It will be worth the wait.”
“It bet–oh, oh it better be.”
“Trust me, Paperina.  I’ll make sure it is.” 
You couldn’t do anything else but nod, the pleasure becoming nearly unbearable as you reached your peak.  He knew exactly how to work you, exactly when to apply more pressure and where.  Your fingers buried themselves in his hair as your climax hit, your mouth open in a mostly silent cry against his shoulder.  It took a few moments for you to come back to yourself and when you did it was to Copia making quiet moaning sounds.
When you blinked your eyes open you looked down to see his hand flying over his cock.  The sight of it had more little thrills of pleasure rippling through you.  He whispered your name and you looked back up at his face, meeting his odd eyes.  You slipped a hand off his shoulder and moved it down to his cock, wrapping your fingers around the head as he continued to pump his shaft.  His moans became louder as you both worked him over until his cock twitched between you, his hot cum shooting out the tip.
Copia cursed quietly in Italian as you stroked him through it, making sure every last drop left him.  It had dripped onto his pants and you noticed streaks across the feathers of your costume.  You had to bite your lip to keep from laughing at the sight, instead moving to press a deep kiss into Copia’s lips.  He hummed happily into your mouth as you tangled your tongue with his briefly before pulling away, his lips curled up in a familiar smug smile.  You glanced down at yourself and his eyes followed, looking over the ripped tights and the cum stained feathers.  When he let out a wistful sigh you put a finger on his chin to tip his head back up.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, Paperina.”  He shrugged and then leaned forward to kiss the tip of your nose.  “I’m just going to miss this costume.”
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Part Two Coming Soon! (leave me a comment if you'd like to be tagged 💙)
I wrote a little ficlet describing Terzo and Omega's meeting as well: Shooting His Shot
A/N: Did I write this because I became obsessed with the thought of Copia's thick thighs in a tight speed skating outfit? Yes, obviously. I hope you enjoyed it! Let me know if you'd like to see more from this little universe💙
My Masterlist ~ My Archive of our Own ~ My Ko-Fi Tip Jar
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luvring · 1 year
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PHOTO OF YOU
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suna x gn!reader | rin comes home and sees the new photo of him you've gotten
note from nia: if anyone does another character w my idea i am humbly asking u to tag me because i think it's fun and silly
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“what the hell is that?”
“what do you mean?”
“i mean why is my face on the back of your phone?” suna asks, laughing in disbelief.
you turn your phone to look at its back with the photo of him sitting in a pink photo holder. he’s mid-laugh, head resting on your lap, and plushie under his chin. your aforementioned boyfriend stands above your spot curled up on the couch, and waits with a tilted head for an explanation. “you don’t like it? it’s a photocard.”
“it—” he snorts before reaching for your phone to inspect it. you hand it over and his lips twitch into a smile. “am i a k-idol now?”
“maybe. you tell me.” you shrug. rin carefully takes off your phone case to look at himself, even moving so the light from outside would give him a better view. you gesture to the photocard with an accomplished grin. “i even got a sleeve and decorated it.”
“mhm, i see that, baby,” he replies breathily. you watch as he rubs the different stickers and tilts the holder, letting the sparkly stickers reflect back at him. if he had passed your desk he would have seen the sticker sheets you bought specifically for this, alongside the different layouts you had planned out. “where’d you even get this printed?” he asks.
“i have my ways.”
rin shakes his head, pressing his tongue against the inside of his cheek before looking at you. “no, i need to know so i can print one of you.”
“what?” he only continues to look at you, a smile growing on his face.
you squint at him in return. "rintarou." he bends down to place your phone and photo on the coffee table, then moves to join you on the couch. if there was something you knew about suna rintarou, it was that he’d always, always go through with a bit. if you didn’t stop him now, he’d start ordering photocards of you and pretend to unbox them, saying something about always managing to pull the rarest ones.
you groan at the new weight on top of you as he shifts to lie down properly. “rin, oh my god, you’re going to smush to me. and also no way are you getting one.”
he hums and wraps his arms around your waist, close enough that you can feel the warmth of his laugh against your skin. “why not? i want a photocard of you.”
“no, you don’t deserve my photocard.”
“but we could match, babe. don't you think we’d be cute? i could decorate my sleeve, too.” rin looks up at you with an exaggerated pout. you pinch his cheek and snicker at his unamused frown. “no, you’d pick an awful photo and i’d have to kill you out of principle.”
“uh-huh, just don’t get blood on my picture then,”—he turns his head to bite onto your finger and grins as you pull it away—“it’ll be the one and only copy, worth your rent in just a year.”
“so you admit you’d pick a terrible photo?”
“no, i’d pick a good one,” he says plainly. the look you give him is so obviously mistrusting that rin laughs loudly. he shifts up to plant a kiss to your jaw and counters softly, “i would, it’d be the one i have as my lockscreen. promise.”
his lockscreen had been the same photo of you for months; it was a selfie you had taken on his phone, close up and face smushed against his pillow. the first time you asked about it, rin had told you he’d look at it when he was away and didn’t want to wake you, and imagined you were there beside him.
he looks at you expectantly, waiting for approval. your own expression softens and after a second, you sigh. “god. yeah, okay. i can’t believe we’re going to have photocards of each other.”
“seriously? you did it first.”
“as a joke, and you’re going with it.”
“yeah, ‘cause you’re cute and i love you.” you stutter and he smirks, deciding to give you the small mercy of not commenting on it. “i’m gonna print a bunch and start a collection, y’know.”
the idea makes you groan. “can you just make your own and sell them so we can be rich?”
you feel his laugh before getting his agreement. “i can do both of those things. i'll even get the team on board and spoil you with our incredible profit.”
“oh, wow. will i get credit?”
“yeah. something, something copyright law or whatever.” you're 100% sure that was bullshit, but hum despite it. “m’kay. that’s the plan, then.”
and you think that’s the end of it, and quietly ask rin to hand you your phone again. even if it was as a joke, you spent more time on decorating the sleeve than expected and wanted it back in your case. he manages to grab and pass it to you but the sight of himself gets rin's mind on his own photocard again. he looks at you sheepishly. “...can i seriously take your stuff to decorate the card sleeve, though?”
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@devilgirlcrybabiey @lordbugs @smiithys @xfangirl-trashx @passionateuchiha @scaramouchesfootstool @fifteenshadesofpinkk @chloee0x0 @kenmaslov3r @bakugosgrenade @dai-tsukki-desu @Thathoneybee3 @momoewn @aintgeluh @dazaisfavgf @simpforerenn @crystal-lilac @vhenis @omiigad @kur0-kawa @semispilledcoffee @ksyhmm @idontlikeyourjob @sparrowb3nscloset @awkwardaardvarkforever @rory-cakes @prblmtc @kuroaka @sunaslay @the-midnightskies @h0n3ysgh0st @lackey-laufeyson @bontensbabygirl @dira333 @the-b-u-n-n-y @Kamukayakmonyet @danyisapingu @isentsworld @lilithlunas @anime-ships-gay @todorokiskitten @kellesvt
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starryeyedadmirer · 2 months
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Matty’s been feeling extra sentimental since we bought our very first flat together. Neither of us can believe that we’re finally moving in with one another, and making a home for our new family to grow in… but, it seems like the reality of it all is weighing on Matty a lot more than it’s weighed on me.
The process of moving our stuff into the building has been… tedious… especially with him being so big now. Since I refuse to let him lift anything, I’ve been the only one making trips back and forth from the van. Couches, tables, chairs, parts of our bed frame — I’ve had to bring them up to the third floor, all on my own. It’s exhausting… but I just don’t think that it’s right for Matty to help me… and that’s made him super upset.
He feels as though he should be able to assist me in getting the furniture up to our flat… that I should give him something else to do, instead of having him sit upstairs all the time… but I think he’s done quite enough already. So far, he’s organized the kitchen cupboards, put the utensils neatly into the drawers, hung a few curtains, decorated our bathroom, and chosen the colors that we’re going to use to paint the walls. If you ask me, I’d say that’s a job well-done… but Matty still doesn’t feel like he’s done enough to “contribute” to our future together.
It’s tough, trying to make him see things from my point of view… and, sometimes, I do feel like I’m using his pregnancy against him… but I’m not gonna change my stance at any point during this process. Matty’s in a fragile state, right now… and he’s just not strong enough.
I mean… even if I did let him help me unload the truck, he’s too all over the place to be of any real use. One minute, he’s mad at me for cooping him up in the open den… the next, he’s sobbing about how beautiful our future is going to be… and, a minute later, he’s rummaging through boxes, sorting through random belongings. I just don’t know what to do with him, sometimes.
Like now, he’s opening boxes of old photos, and holding me hostage in the den… taking me on an impromptu trip down memory lane. Photos of him and Tom, and the time he met the king, and all of the awards that he’s ever won, and blah blah blah. As sweet as it is, looking back at some of his fondest memories, I’ve got other priorities to tend to. There’s so much more furniture that I need to move, and he’s only holding me up.
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navybrat817 · 9 months
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What Happens in Vegas
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: You get more than you bargained for when you decide to get married in Vegas. Word Count: Over 2.8k Warnings: Drinking, drunk wedding, accidental marriage, supernatural element, dubcon elements, soft!dark vibes, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: I wasn't able to get all 4 birthday stories done, but I hope you lovelies enjoy the ones I plan to share. Here's 1 of 2! ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby (thank you for spitballing), but any and all mistakes are my own. Thanks to @targaryenvampireslayer as well for letting me scream about this. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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The fluorescent lights of the strip flashed as you stumbled along the sidewalk. Fast paced and surreal, the city that never sleeps offered a little something for everyone. Entertainment, architecture, adventure. While your intention for the evening was to grab a drink with some friends and nothing more, you decided to do something bolder. Crazier. Because what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas, right?
“Goin’ to the chapel and we’re… gonna get maaaaaaried,” you sang, squinting as your guy, date, whoever he was, helped steady you. “Who or what was your name again? Randy?”
“That’s not my name. It’s-”
“Randy. ‘Cause you’re a rando,” you declared, making him laugh.
Forgetting the guy’s name should’ve been your first clue to call it a night and go back to your hotel. Randy was cute enough though and bought all of you drinks. When you told him most of your friends were hitched or close to getting married while you were still single, he joked that he’d marry you.
“Fuck it! Let’s get married!”
Which was how you found yourself on his arm heading to a chapel.
Your second clue to go back to your room should’ve been that none of your friends stopped you. Not a single one told you to stay or offered to go with you, which was strange. Not that each of you hadn’t done stupid stuff before. Letting you go off with a stranger though? In an unfamiliar city?
Bitches. All of them. Noooooo. I love my girlfriends. They’re just DRUNK, like me.
You did feel sad for a second. While your friends all had family who would’ve thrown a fit if they eloped or married a stranger, you didn’t. Your dad would never give you away. Your mom wouldn’t wipe her tears as she heard you say your vows. So who cared what you did?
You sure as hell didn’t.
“Here,” Randy said, pulling you toward a door. “This place is supposed to be really nice.”
“OOOOOOOOH. Reeeeeeeally nice,” you said, gasping once you stepped inside.
You expected cheesy decor to smack you in the face, but instead found yourself in a luxurious entryway. Sparkles of gold lined the sleek floor and walls all the way up to the high ceilings. The art depicted landscapes you only had the pleasure of seeing in dreams. The room almost had a glow to it.
Or maybe it's the alcohol blurring my vision.
A voluptuous redhead walked through a set of doors to greet you. Her heels didn’t make a sound as she glided across the floor. Glancing at Randy, you caught him adjusting the front of his pants. Was he drooling? You found it amusing rather than let it upset you.
“Welcome to the Enchanted Valley where all your dreams come true. My name is Natalia. How may I help you this evening?”
“We’re getting married,” Randy answered, though he didn’t glance at you.
“Is that so?” she asked, tilting her head as she turned her attention to you. The gold from the walls sparkled in her eyes as she waited for your confirmation.
Swaying a little, you gave her a two finger salute. “That is so,” you answered before you added, “Do you also do annulments?”
Snorting, she gestured behind her. “Before we get started, you must be at least 18 years old, must not be currently married, must not be kin, and I’ll need to see a government form of identification. As long as that’s clear, you’re free to proceed with your ceremony. Do you have witnesses?"
“No ‘cause my bitchy friends didn’t come here. I don’t even have flowers,” you said, hiccuping a little. “Don’t tell them I call them that. I love them soooooooooo much.”
“That’s just fine. I’ll ask James and Wanda if they wouldn’t mind witnessing this…” Natalia tried to find the word as her eyes darted between you. “Blessed union.”
Randy followed Natalia like a lost puppy into the chapel as he struggled to get his wallet out. “You single?”
Your eyes rolled in the back of your head. “Why am I doing this?” you mumbled, swaying as you dug your wallet out. “Why didn’t I just get a tattoo or something?”
“Because a ring on your finger is easier to remove than ink on your skin.”
“Holy fucking… fuck,” you said as you looked up. “Where did you come from, you… gorgeous specimen?”
You understood why Randy practically eye-fucked Natalia since you were doing the same with the man in front of you. His steel blue eyes reflected the gold of the room the same way the redhead’s had and you were scared you’d fall into an abyss if you stared for too long. His light brown hair had to be the softest you’d ever seen. If you had to guess, he was at least 6’4” with a broad chest and shoulders and didn’t have the audacity to button up his shirt.
Is his left arm made out of gold? Or is it painted gold? How drunk am I? Would Randy object to me giving this god of a man the ride of his life?
“I’m James,” he said, the timbre of his voice causing your knees to wobble as he held up a bouquet of colorful flowers. “I’ll be one of the witnesses for this blessed union.”
“Nothing blessed about it. I don’t even know the guy. But he said he’d marry me and I said ‘fuck it,” you giggled, taking a step forward. Your shoe caught on nothing. Nothing. You just fell forward.
And the beautiful man caught you in his embrace.
“Careful, beautiful,” he said as he helped you stand upright and placed the flowers in your hand. His touch warmed you as he ran his hands along your bare arms. “You would marry a stranger then? With no friends or family here?”
“You smell really good. How do you smell so good?” You said, putting a hand on his chest with a grin. “Friends are busy and I have no family.”
His brows furrowed and you wondered how pathetic you sounded. You weren’t looking for pity. “Did he give you any token of affection?”
“Mmmmm. You know, he didn’t. We don’t have rings or anything.”
James traced a finger along your cheek. “And he dares to call himself a man,” he whispered, tutting when you leaned into his touch. “Doesn’t seem like he's fit to marry such a delectable creature.”
Eat me up, James.
“It’s okay,” you said, hoping the sad feelings of alcohol weren’t about to hit you. It sucked being alone and you knew you’d come to regret this later, but who cared about tonight? “Do you have gold streaks in your hair? Why are you so pretty? It’s like you’re not even REAL.”
“I’m very real, beautiful,” he smiled, flashing his pearly white teeth as your cheeks got hot. “Do I have the pleasure of knowing your full name?”
“My full name? So formal,” you teased, giving it to him without hesitation as you ran your fingers through his hair. You should’ve asked permission before touching his soft hair. You shouldn’t have touched him at all. But logic left your mind the moment you stepped into the city.
James closed his eyes as he repeated your name, making it sound erotic and sensual. You liked hearing it on his tongue. “You will not marry him,” he whispered, opening his eyes. A ring of gold surrounded his pupils before it went away. Maybe one of the girls slipped a little something into your drink to help you relax more.
Whatever it is, I want more of it.
“Tell you what,” you smiled, booping his nose with a giggle. “If you object with good reason, I won’t marry Randy Rando. Deal?”
James smirked after a moment, a darkness clouding his eyes as he stepped back to shake your hand. “Deal.”
Before you shook it, you noticed a gold ring on the floor by his foot. Did he drop it? “Is that yours?” you said, crouching down to grab it. It wasn’t very dignified how your dress rode up, but he didn’t seem to mind. “Here.”
He didn’t take it from you. “It is mine, but do you not wish to keep it?”
You frowned, confused as you glanced at the band. It had some sort of lettering around the solitaire diamond that you didn’t recognize. “This isn’t ‘finders keepers’. It’s yours. It’s nice, but it’s rude of me to take it.”
With a low hum, he accepted the ring back. “There aren’t many who would return something of value,” he said, slipping it on his right pinky finger. “You have a giving heart.”
“Oh, it… It was nothing,” you said, shrugging a little to hide how badly you wanted to preen at his compliment.
I’m really acting like I’ve never seen a good looking guy before.
He kept an intense gaze on you as he slipped a hand into his pants pocket and pulled out a small stone. It would’ve looked like a normal pebble if not for the gold speckles. “I know this may not look special, but would you take this as a token for giving my ring back?”
Whaaaaaaaat?
“Um. Yeah. Sure. Thanks,” you said, tucking the stone into your purse before you selected a flower from your bouquet. “Would you accept this from me?” you asked, wanting to do something nice.
A pleased look crossed his face as he took the flower and inhaled. Your head spun a little. Something felt different, but you couldn’t put your finger on it. “Thank you,” he said, running his teeth along his bottom lip as he fixed the bottom of your dress. “You really are the most beautiful bride.”
“And you, James, you beautiful, gorgeous, sexy, god of a man, will make the hottest groom when you get married.”
“Hey!” Randy shouted from the chapel when James opened his mouth. “We doing this or what?”
Oh, yeah.
“Wish me luck!” you said, giggling as you went through the doors and not looking back to see if he followed. “Wow.”
It was as if you stepped into an enchanted forest. The colors of the room were lush and welcoming, a blend of evergreen and sage. Flickering fairy lights and flowers adorned the dark brown pues. Natalia stood in front of Randy and a slender woman you didn’t recognize sat on his side of the chapel. The lights were playing tricks on you again when she looked at you, her eyes a flash of red as she smiled.
That must be Wanda. And I’m never drinking again.
“Ready?” Randy questioned when you got to the end of the aisle.
How romantic.
“Yeah, I guess,” you shrugged, looping your arm with his as you held your bouquet. “Take it away, Natalia.”
“Dearly beloved,” she began.
Truthfully, you didn’t pay much attention to the ceremony as Natalia spoke. You didn’t question that she hadn’t looked at your identification card or confirmed anything else she named off. It probably wasn’t a real wedding ceremony. You weren’t going to be Mrs. Randy Rando.
Not when James is here. Wait, what?
“If there are no objections,” Natalia spoke, glancing over your shoulder. “Speak now or forever hold your peace.”
“I object,” James announced behind you, making you cover your mouth as you giggled. He did say he’d object with good reason. You wondered what he’d come up with.
“On what grounds?” Natalia asked, smirking as if she expected him to interrupt.
“Because she’s my wife,” he answered.
What the hell did he just say?
“What?!” You laughed louder as you spun around, falling against Randy with wide eyes.
"What's wrong?" He asked, barely holding you upright.
James walked down the aisle toward you, a gold shine covering him from head to toe. Pointy ears stuck out through his hair and his eyes had a hypnotic glow as he smiled at you, his teeth sharper than before. He looked like a beautiful nightmare.
Ready to eat you up.
“You can see me as I really am, beautiful, can’t you?” He asked, a melodic lift in his tone that was both sinister and alluring. “Glamour doesn’t work on mates.”
...the fuck?
“M-Mates? We’re mates? What does that even mean?” You asked, looking at Randy for help. His eyes had a glossy glaze to them, like he wasn’t seeing you. Was he in shock? Did he know what was going on? “Dude, snap out of it. Look at his gold skin! And his pointy ears!”
“She can see you,” Natalia said with pride. “Congratulations, Bucky. You’re finally married.”
“Thank you, Natasha,” James smiled, waving a hand at Randy. His nails looked sharp enough to claw through his skin. “Get rid of him. He’s crowding my bride.”
“I’m… I’m way too drunk for this,” you mumbled, your knees giving out. With unnaturaul speed, he made his way to the end of the aisle and caught you.
“Hey! That’s my…” Randy looked confused as he blinked. “Well, she's not my girlfriend, but. Huh?”
“No, she isn’t your girlfriend. She’s my wife. And when you wake up tomorrow, you won’t remember being here,” he said, nodding over to Wanda. “I’d wipe your memory myself, but I’m not letting my mate go.”
“The fuck are you…” he trailed off when Wanda waved her hand, a ball of red light floating in front of his face.
“You sleep now,” she said as the light touched his forehead, not bothering to brace his fall as he collapsed.
“What the hell?” You slurred as Natalia grabbed his ankles to drag him out of the chapel, Wanda on her heel.
“I wouldn’t worry about him since you accepted my hand in marriage,” James said, touching your cheek with a fond smile. “I’m sorry for not courting you longer, but we didn’t exactly have much time, did we?”
“We’re not married,” you argued.
“By Fae law, we are,” he explained as your eyes nearly bulged out of your head. Did he say Fae? “You returned something of value to me that I dropped, which was you saying ‘yes’ to my marriage proposal.”
“No,” you whispered. That couldn’t be true.
“You accepted my token of my affection, which was me pledging myself as your husband. And you gave me a token of affection in return, which was you pledging yourself as my wife.”
The stone. The flower. No. Fucking. Way.
“I don’t understand,” you whimpered as he propped you up in his arms.
“I wanted a bride, so I came here. You’d be surprised how much of my kind has infiltrated this city. We do love our realm, but your people are so easy to manipulate,” he said, gesturing to the room. “Gambling, drinking, strippers, quick weddings. You just throw your hard-earned money away like it’s meaningless. Your currency goes a long way where I’m from.”
“I want to go home,” you said as he tightened his hold on you, even stronger than he looked.
“You didn’t see me at the bar tonight, but I saw you. I knew you were destined for me,” he continued happily as if you didn’t say anything. “And when he suggested marrying you on a whim, I made sure your friends didn’t try to stop you and that your path led here. Don't worry. They're safe. I wouldn't harm them.”
Who is he? What is he?
You shook your head, surprised that you hadn’t gotten sick from how your stomach turned. “I’m not your wife,” you said, trembling when his entire body began to glow.
“You are not just my wife. You are my queen. Even if you hadn’t accepted my token of affection, I wouldn’t have let you marry someone whose name wasn’t worth remembering. You’re mine,” he said through his teeth, angry at you denying him before he took a breath. “My poor bride. A woman with no family and friends who don’t look out for her. You have me now. And you’ll be happy by my side.”
You bit the inside of your cheek, hoping by some miracle a bit of pain would wake you up. But the creature who called himself your husband wasn’t going away. “This is a bad dream,” you whispered, as if lying to yourself would help.
“Oh, my love,” he said in false comfort. “There are no bad dreams in the Enchanted Valley. And this isn’t the Vegas you know where you can simply write this off as a mistake. There is no divorce in my world. Well, your world now.”
“James, please,” you begged as your heart pounded.
“We’re married now, beautiful. Call me Bucky,” he smiled, smothering your protest with a kiss. Heat spread along your lips and flowed through your veins, wrapping around your heart like a vice. It was enough to suffocate you, but fate wasn’t ready to claim your life yet. “Now sober up. We have a honeymoon to start.”
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I couldn't tag Bucky as "fae" without giving some of the surprise away! This idea was inspired by @adayka's beautiful art here. Maybe we can revisit this new couple down the road. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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rhettabbotts · 4 months
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dreaming of a white christmas - rhett abbott x reader
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pairing: rhett abbott x wife!reader
summary: in which christmas miracles still happen.
warnings: 18+ only. fluff. soft sex. oral (f receiving). christmas cheer. rhett’s the best husband. rhett walking around naked.
a/n: this is my submission for @lewmagoo’s christmas celebration! i’m so sorry it’s late my love but i hope you enjoy this little fic! and happy holidays to everyone! i hope it’s a good one 🩵.
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“We’re looking at a warm and sunny Christmas day. No signs of accumulation over the next week.”
Weatherman Todd Carter crushed all of your dreams in one sentence. Every year since you could remember, there had been inches upon inches of snow throughout the month of December. This year was a little disappointing, but you had been holding out hope for Christmas.
That was your favorite thing about this time of year. The white snow covering the mountains like a blanket. The serene and beautiful landscape always made you feel like a child again.
The early mornings, bundled up from head to toe in snow gear heading out to feed the animals. The anticipation of Santa coming to visit as you baked cookies with your mother. It all reminded you of a happier time. And now thanks to Todd, you weren’t going to have that feeling this year.
Rhett came in that evening and could tell you were upset. It was your second Christmas in your new home and the place was decorated from floor to ceiling. He always said it looked like an elf threw up. You thought it was just enough, but you kept adding more every time you came back from the store.
“Hey, honey,” Rhett greeted you, planting a wet kiss to your cheek. “What’s the frown for?”
“Stupid Todd,” you mumbled as you stirred the cake batter for the chocolate cake you were baking.
“Todd? Who the hell-“
“The weatherman on Channel 7! He said there wasn’t gonna be any snow on Christmas!” You sounded like a spoiled child whining about not getting a toy. The corner of Rhett’s mouth quirked up. “It’s not funny. It’s depressing. We’ve always had a white Christmas.”
“Sweetheart, just because there’s not gonna be any snow doesn’t mean it’s going to be any less perfect. You’ll make sure of that,” Rhett swiped a finger in the cocoa mixture, licking it clean with a shit-eating grin on his face. “Good cake by the way.”
“It’ll be even better if you stop trying to give yourself salmonella,” you swatted at him to get out of the kitchen.
Rhett waltzed out of the kitchen with an extra swing in his step, his tight Wranglers leaving nothing to imagine. It was your favorite pair and he knew it. As he showered and cleaned up, you finished baking your cake. You even threw in a batch of cookies for the hell of it, trying to ignore Rhett’s voice saying in your head “stress baking.”
The holidays were such a wonderful time, but after you and Rhett had married it had become exhausting. Trying to find time for both families and leaving each place more overwhelmed than when you arrived was enough for you to decide to spend Christmas with each other this year.
The repeated questions of “when are you having kids? when are you going to move back to the ranch? why don’t you move closer to us?” wore you down to the point you nearly broke.
You wanted a family but children weren’t on the table at the moment. You and Rhett wanted to travel. See the world. Get out of the little small town you both grew up in.
A strong pair of arms wrapping around your middle snapped you from your thoughts, a scratchy jaw tickled your neck as feather light kisses were placed to your pulse point.
“I know that look. You’re thinkin’ too much again,” Rhett mumbled against your skin.
“Just thinking about you. About us,” you replied, swaying in his embrace.
“I can’t believe it’s our second Christmas. And it’s just us this year. Thank god,” Rhett muttered the last words. He couldn’t stand your aunt Susie. She was touchy.
Rhett continued placing soft kisses on your neck, causing you to moan quietly and lean your head back against his chest. You could feel him smirk. Smug bastard.
“You know… that fire I’ve got going looks real cozy…”
“What are you hinting at?”
“I’m saying I want to eat my wife out by the fire on Christmas Eve so she’ll stop pouting about no snow,” Rhett said bluntly, tightening his hold on you.
And he did just that. He laid out the softest blanket you had on the floor, laid you on your back and threw your legs over his shoulder. His tongue made slow figure eight movements from your clit to your pulsating entrance.
Your knuckles were white from the grip on his long locks, tugging harshly when his lips suctioned on your bud.
“Rhett- fuck- oh Go-God!” You stammered, hips bucking against his face.
He didn’t stop until your thighs were quaking and your juices covered his chin. He made a point to make dramatic slurping noises as he was pulling away.
“That’s it. I don’t need to open a single present tomorrow,” Rhett said as he placed his head on your lower stomach, kneading your thighs gently to stop them from shaking.
“Oh no. You’re opening those presents, mister. I have kept them a secret long enough.”
“I love you, baby.”
“Please fuck me now,” you pouted, practically pawing at him.
“Greedy little thing,” he teased.
So you made love all night by the fire, eventually falling asleep in your husband’s arms and dreaming of a snow white covered yard with two little girls running after Rhett.
The early morning sun shined brightly through the living room window, much brighter than it typically did. You blinked slowly, holding back a giggle at the sound of Rhett’s snoring. You knew he’d be complaining about his back later.
Wrapping an extra blanket around yourself, you made your way to the kitchen to start the coffee, not even bothering to look outside. You didn’t want to be disappointed.
As your cup finished brewing, you stood at the kitchen sink and nearly dropped the mug as you looked outside and saw nearly six inches of snow piled up out front.
You shrieked and caused Rhett to jump awake. He didn’t grab the blanket and stood in the middle of your living room stark naked.
“Where’s the fire?”
“THERE’S SNOW. A WHITE CHRISTMAS,” You exclaimed loudly, wrapping the blanket around you tighter and throwing the front door open. You were greeted with a bitter chill, one that went to the bone and brought a wide smile to your face.
It soon became too much and you hurried inside, Rhett still walking around without clothes on which didn’t surprise you.
“So Todd lied, huh?” Rhett joked as he sipped on your abandoned coffee.
“I could cry right now. A white Christmas. My favorite,” you whispered, grinning to yourself.
“Darlin’, I pray every Christmas will be white just so I can see this joy on your face every time,” Rhett said as he shimmied his way towards you.
“Go put some clothes on. I’ll start breakfast and then we’re doing presents.”
“Yes ma’am,” Rhett winked, yelping when you smack his ass as he walked away.
You spent the day with just the two of you, both laughing and crying at the different presents you got each other. You watched many Christmas movies while you snacked on the lunch you fixed and watched the snow as you drank hot cocoa. You saved White Christmas for last and you couldn’t stop yourself from shedding a tear as Bing Crosby crooned “may your days be merry and bright. and may all your Christmases be white.”
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anundyingfidelity · 1 month
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I'M A RUIN — Soldier Boy/Ben (Part VII)
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Series summary: After the events of the Seven Tower, you present Grace Mallory a new secret project you're working on already to develop a cure to Compound V. The only problem? You need Soldier Boy for that.
Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x female reader.
Word count: 3.2k.
Warnings for series: set after S3 (spoilers), some OOC!Ben, some depressed!Ben, angst, hurt/comfort, eventual smut, slow-burn, language, PTSD, reader has Compound V (she's no Vought supe tho), Soldier Boy being an usual asshole, reader is a fucking liar.
Warnings on this chapter: sexual tension, suggestive stuff.
Notes: bonding chapter of this slow burn aaaa thanks again for reading :D
this fic tags: @k-slla @syrma-sensei @mostlymarvelgirl @cheynovak @drasticemotions @soldirboy @deans-spinster-witch
☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !
get yourself in the taglist!
Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | Part VIII
GEN MASTERLIST! — SERIES MASTERLIST!
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Part VII: No More Doubts
When you left the motel early after a quick and dull breakfast, Ben was a pain in the ass as he kept asking question after question on the road. You knew he could just leave you alone but it wasn’t really something you’d like him to do. He was a fugitive, so were you. Soldier Boy knew better than that and he only had to stay by your side as much as he hated the idea. The only thing you could truly answer was that you were driving to a safer place. At least you were hoping it was. When you pulled the car after driving hours between the grove, Soldier Boy was waking up from his nap. You thanked heaven for that.
“We’re here,” you announced, turning off the engine.
Ben stirred on his seat, taking in the view of the house and nature and got out of your car, following you to the front door. He couldn’t help but to look around in somewhat awe. It was a large cottage-style house decorated with earth tones, great walls and columns. The place was surrounded by countless trees, making the weather bearable and somewhat nice due to the hidden location. The leaves climbed on some of the windows and the plants and flowers rested on the ground perfectly neat. He assumed you came here often. But it wasn’t really the place you used to come by and sleep every single day. It was too far away from the facility. As you unlocked the door, Ben followed inside, not without taking a last glance at your surroundings. No homes were near, nothing was to be seen. Only you and him inside this big fucking house.
The indoors were no different from the impression he got first. The decoration, the expensive sofa where you threw the sports bag, and the paintings and pots all over the place were saying you were rich. Of course, a fucking rich whore you were, he thought to himself. And he wondered where your real place was located.
“So, I’m gonna show you a guest room and then around, please don’t screw my house,” you said, giving him the sports bag.
“Got something to drink?” he asked, a smirk plastering on his face as he stepped closer to where you were standing.
“Water I do.”
Ben chuckled for a bit, eyes not leaving your face. “You’re so fucking boring, you know?”
“Yeah, well, alcohol is not really an important supply. Just follow me and maybe I’ll get you some later,” you said, turning around to get to the stairs.
You knew he did as you asked when his big steps echoed around the place. Once you were on the second floor, you motioned him to the next room a couple of feet away from yours and gave him directions about the bathroom and the manners. If he was going to be in your place, then he had to behave.
“I told you already, I’m not a fucking animal,” he complained after hearing your orders.
“Sure,” you dragged the word, eyes narrowed. “Because last night you were so civilized in the bathroom.”
He scoffed and then chuckled. “Did I get too loud?”
“You fucking tell me,” you replied with a much annoying smile on your face to match his own.
“Could’ve joined me. We’re not patient and doctor anymore,” 
“No.”
Just as the last word fell off your lips, your phone rang. Quickly you took the call, realizing it was Grace. You left Soldier Boy in his room and walked down the stairs a little too fast.
“You made it?” she asked on the other line.
“Yeah, arrived just minutes ago,” you answered, checking the stairs in case he followed. “Where are you, Grace?”
“That doesn’t matter. I have something for you.”
“Okay, tell me.”
“I will text you an address and an hour. Today. Don’t miss it.”
Your phone buzzed, announcing the information had arrived.
“I won’t.”
“I’ll keep calling through different phone numbers. Do what you have to do to complete the cure,” she said, like if she knew what was happening between both now.
Soldier Boy was unbearable but you had to keep him on track. Luckily, you were back home again and you’ll be working on the Anti V soon, praying the last bits of information and results of the last test were there for some reason.
“I’m doing my best,” you sighed.
Grace hummed.
“Good.”
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“Any updates so far?”
Ben’s smooth voice woke you up from your daydreaming while you sat together in the dining room.
You had been able to make something quick for lunch after Grace called and you found yourself all jittery and tense, hoping Soldier Boy wouldn’t notice. But he did sense something different from you. So he kept insisting on what was going on.
“I don’t know,” you whispered, taking the last sip of water from your glass. You avoided his eyes, looking away.
He rolled his eyes and narrowed at you. “Has your office contacted you?” 
You shook your head.
“So they’re dead,” he said. Not asking, but affirming it.
A heavy sigh left your lips, your eyes going back to his harsh ones. “Leaving was the best.”
“Who’s that you keep in touch with?”
“What?”
Ben groaned slightly before snapping back with a low voice. “C’mon, Y/N. You called yesterday on the road, and now you receive a call. Who the fuck is it?”
His question is not just an inquiry anymore. He’s demanding to know. But you also know he hated Grace Mallory for putting him to sleep again, confined to a chamber where he’d be a trophy for the government to do whatever they wanted, how they wanted. Until you appeared, offering him empty words. Just like everyone.
“My superior.”
Your answer hit him like a truck. He knew it was Grace, but he didn’t like hearing it from you. 
The truth was, Ben didn’t like you… Not that much. Sometimes he did, sometimes he didn’t. Sometimes he wanted to kill you, sometimes the small common sense he still had on his head would say you’d be better alive. He had been thinking of going away, but not he didn’t really want to. He knew you had been working with Grace, he was no idiot. So maybe staying close should get him even closer to Homelander and Vought. He also thought of Ryan back in the cell you had put him in. He was so damn afraid Ryan would become like his father. And since the brat has been protected before by many people, finding would not be easy. That’s where your contacts and network would be a help to him. He was hoping to find something at your place to find them and the information he craved.
“Right,” he said, alarmingly calm and quiet. He took the last bite of pasta on the plate and swallowed down in silence under your gaze. You didn’t know what else to say.
“So, these powers of yours,” he continued, drinking the last sip of juice. “How’d you get them?”
“Why do you want to know?”
He shrugged. “I mean, they’re pretty fucking useless against me,” his words made you chuckle. Of course you knew that. “But I’m just wondering if you’d be with them.”
Your face turned back to a somber demeanor. “The Seven?”
He gave you a nod.
“Well, it’s not like all supes dream of that,” you uttered. “I just wanted to be normal.”
Ben raised a brow at your sudden confession. “Someone exploded everyone’s heads at the CIA. Sorry to say, sweetheart, but you suck at being normal.”
“Yeah, details I have to work with.”
“I take it you never went to them,” he continued and saw confusion on your face. “Vought.”
The word made you shudder for a slight moment, and you quickly tried to collect yourself to avoid him noticing.
“No, I never did.”
He scrutinized your eyes, hearing the poor increase of your heartbeats. They were enough to tell him something was wrong. But he decided to play along, so he nodded and gave you a rather compassionate look.
“Must be thankful they didn’t fuck up your life then.”
He had no idea.
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You had parked the car outside an abandoned gas station; it was one of the nearest grocery stores to your home years ago. The now wasteland was almost two hours away, with a gas station around ten miles elsewhere. You had been waiting for Grace outside the car, leaning against the hood. Bored, you checked your phone again. When you arrived it was already past three o’clock. When twenty minutes went by, you wanted so badly to drive and get inside the next store you see and buy yourself food and supplies enough to survive a week or two with the idiotic supe now staying at your home. Grace said would be calling through a different phone but you received no calls so far. You’ve been waiting for more than an hour and the drive home wasn’t going to be shorter. Suddenly another car came into sight, pulling over near yours. Two men came out of it.
“Doctor Y/N?”
The stranger with the unknown voice and a weird accent caught your attention. Soon, you found the two tall men standing in front of you in the parking lot.
“We’re here on behalf of Grace Mallory,” the man continued.
He wore a long dark trench coat, looking rough and intimidating. The total opposite to the younger one, who gave you a kind smile once your eyes settled on him.
“How-”
“We have something for you,” the younger man continued. “I’m Hughie. Hughie Campbell,” he introduced himself, giving you a hand and fixing the backpack on his shoulder with the other one. You took it after a moment of hesitation. “He’s Billy Butcher, we’ve worked with Grace before.”
You nodded. “I thought she was the one coming.”
“She’s not in shape for that,” Billy answered. He realized your face changed at his words and quickly explained himself. “Vought’s cunts are looking for her, not safe.”
“Fuck,” you mumbled under your breath. “Great, awesome. So what do you have for me?”
“We, uhm, we made it to your facility and thought these could do some help,” Hughie took out a pouch and gave it to you.
With trembling hands you opened the pouch and sighed in relief. Five test tubes of the Anti V prototype were laid there. “You found them.”
“And we found a little bit more,” Butcher continued. “Victoria Neuman exploded the heads of your employees back there. We believe Vought had been sneaking and getting spies for themselves.”
“Victoria is a supe,” you voiced out. “A supe is running for vice president…”
“Yeah, long story,” Hughie commented. “She’s obviously linked with Homelander and Vought. Everyone was dead when we arrived; lab assistants, guards, agents, the supes… We believe her mission was to just let you and Soldier Boy out, besides stealing information about the cure you’re working on. Probably to give it to Vought.”
“Anything weird happen there before the attack?” Billy asked, not giving you time to swallow Hughie’s words.
“Uhm, yeah. Actually my lab assistant… She tried to warn me and, well, she was crying and asking me to leave. I didn’t know why until her head just- you know…”
You choked a little with your words. The picture of her body and the last seconds of her life were all you got. Everything was equally horrible that day.
“I’m sorry,” Hughie whispered.
“It’s fine,” you cleared your throat. “And I assume you didn’t find anything else? Information? Files?”
“Computers were destroyed. No files. No info. Nothing,” Butcher answered. “Grace says you’re the leader of the project. You have copies, right?”
“Why everybody keeps fucking asking me that? Of course I do!” you almost yelled, eyes full of rage staring at him.
“Easy there, doc,” Butcher lifted up his hands in surrender. “We just wanna get rid of those cunt supes as much as you want. Nothing wrong to make sure.”
“Well, I do have them,” you replied with a cocky smile. “Thank you very much for your concern, Adele.”
Butcher rolled his eyes, sharing a look with Hughie before switching his attention back to you.
“Yeah, sure you do, luv.”
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It was already seven o’clock when you arrived home with supplies and food. Ben, as usually, acted like a fucking caveman claiming he was hungry and you had to act like the housewife, serving him a fucking hamburger and a glass of wine. That was the only liquor you bought. Despite his complaints, his hunger was greater and he devoured the greasy food with no table manners at all.
“You could chew your food like a fucking human being, you know,” you said, eating the last french fries you had. 
He turned his eyes to your face, pointing with his finger. “You were gone for like five hours.”
“So? There’s fruit in the fridge.”
Ben narrowed his gaze, like if he had been offended.
“Don’t tell me you don’t know how to serve something for yourself,” you teased. He didn’t say a word, and you giggled. “That’s fucking pathetic.”
He leaned towards the dining table, eyes locked on yours. “No, you just don’t know your fucking place, woman.”
“I just saved your life, Ben. At least say thanks,” you beamed, having too much fun by seeing him upset for mundane things.
“No, you didn’t.”
You rolled your eyes and took a sip of your wine. “Fine. I didn’t. Let’s go past this and start over. If you’re gonna live here, for now, then you’ll have to learn how to respect me.”
His brows raised. “I thought I already did.”
“Offering yourself to fuck me in a cheap motel is not respectful, Soldier Boy.”
“Well, I didn’t try anything, did I?” Ben finished his sentence at the same time he finished his dinner.
He waited for a smart comeback from you but it never came. He wiped his mouth with a napkin and a stupid grin appeared on his lips. “Unless you want to.”
“No, we’ve been through it. My answer is still no.”
“Then, mind to fucking tell me if you found something by now?”
He changed the topic swiftly. His playful demeanor switched immediately and you sighed, knowing he might have to hear anything to keep him down.
“You’re in danger.”
“I’m the strongest supe ever, that doesn’t make any damn sense,” Ben scoffed.
“Listen, we need to hide from Vought. Hide and not leave a trace, because now I’m involved with you and they’re absolutely looking for your ass,” you gave him a stern look as you went on. “If I fall, you go with me. And if you fall, then I don’t know if they’d still want me. But you’ll be fucked anyway.”
Ben nodded. In his mind, it didn’t sound like a bad plan. In the end, that’s what he wanted; to get closer to Vought and Homelander to get over with them. The world didn’t deserve those fuckers. And as much as Homelander was created with his own DNA, he knew better than to let a scum like him walk around the planet. You already gave him something, a clue. He had to play along for now. If they took you in first, then he might probably bargain to be him instead. It was only fair. He was the one that mattered anyway.
“Okay, I get it. I’ll stay here. But I don’t want those fucking therapies anymore,” he expressed, his gaze not moving away from the surprised look on your face. “Understand?”
You blinked a couple of times, shifting on your seat and chuckling under your breath. “It’s fine, believe me. I can’t stand you more than you do.”
Ben held your gaze, daring you to try something else. Instead, you smiled and got up and took your empty dishes to the sink. His eyes followed your moves, focusing on your small shorts and the softness of your legs. And you knew he was definitely checking you out when you talked.
“By the way, you’ll have to help me wash the dishes.”
He stood up, plates on his hands and walked behind your figure, putting them on the sink as you opened the faucet. His arms surrounded you once he did so and you flinched a bit. Ben smirked, feeling the reaction of your body trapped against his.
“Get away,” you ordered in a whisper, unable to move.
“I’m helping you, Y/N,” he breathed your name against your neck, his hand wrapping on yours gripping on the edge of the sink.
The only sound now was his hot breath on your skin and the water flowing. You quickly turned the faucet off, but you didn’t try to push him away.
It was the second time during the day he had said your name, ever. And you wouldn’t deny it sounded fucking delightful. He had only addressed you as his ‘doctor’, but now it was different. Though, you didn’t want to give into him. He was a huge douchebag and you were basically forced to spend time with him, in your home, without really wanting him there. You felt his lips ghosting over the sensitive skin of your neck, and the primal part of you yearned for his touch, but the rational one won over and you freed yourself from his arms.
“Stop doing that,” you warned once you were face to face. His eyes were dark already and had a sparkle you knew too much since the day before.
“Alright,” he nodded.
“Just- let’s just wash these. I want to sleep.”
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With a tired sigh, you walked down the basement. It was already midnight and Ben was locked inside his room, probably jerking off or something since you, once again, rejected him in your kitchen. Inside the dark room, you found the metal door that let you inside the bunker and unlocked it with the code. When you stepped in, you made sure to turn on the power and lights that illuminated the room and the small lab in the back. The computers started to run and you sat down on the main monitor, leaving the pouch with the Anti V tubes on the side of the desk.
Yeah, you might have told Butcher and Grace you had copies of every detail of the project. But you were afraid of the last stuff you discovered just before the attack. You knew well how the information was protected and encrypted, but it didn’t really assure you the profile of Solaris would be there. He was the first and last supe who had his powers off for a couple of hours at least and the feeling of losing it all had been eating you the last few hours after meeting with Grace’s messengers.
It took you a while to decrypt the system, something you had been already used to doing every time you got there to keep working on it, just to make sure no one would steal it. Hopefully, Vought hadn’t discovered it before destroying the facilities, you thought. And after a while, you found the last updates of the last test your team ran. Solaris profile and test was there. Not just in written letters, but the footage of the test and the exact formula that was used too. Now, you were so lucky.
“Well, thank you, Bianca. Wherever you are,” you whispered to yourself and took a tube from the pouch the men gave you earlier. You had a busy night ahead.
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lowkeychenle · 6 months
Text
Irrevocably [ZCL] (2)
Description: His decision has been made, but sometimes even Zhong Chenle can question his choices...
A/N: Thanks to popular demand, we have part two! I'm thinking this will be a three-parter. Do let me know if you would like a new one.
Genre: Angst, smut (no real sex but like smutty enough ig)
Content Warnings: Chenle is manipulative as hell in this!!! he is not a good guy in this fic!!! Do not read if you don't like it!!!!! This has gone into infidelity territory. Chenle is a bad dude in here, but the reader becomes a lil manipulative too. it's dramatic okay?
Word Count: 4,677
Pairing: Zhong Chenle x Reader | Mark Lee x Reader
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
Juliet's Masterlist | Requests
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Not hearing from Chenle for a while hurt, but you expected after he left. You knew better than to assume your spot in his life anymore, and when you heard from Mark that Chenle and his girlfriend had gotten back together, it stung more than you thought it would.
You had nowhere to direct your anger. After all, you had no real reason to be angry in the first place. Chenle never promised you anything. He never once said he wanted to be with you in any other way besides what you already had.
Embarrassingly enough, you’d tried to reach out to him. None of your messages went through, not even making it to the ‘delivered’ status.
“So, he came over to see you, screwed you, and then left you in the morning after she called?” Mark raises his eyebrows, blinking in surprise. He sits on the floor between your couch and the coffee table.
“So eloquently put.” You roll your eyes. Sighing, you lean back against the cushion. “But yeah, that’s what happened. And now he has me blocked on everything.”
“I guess I’m just confused,” Mark says. “Why would he do that?”
You grab a decorative throw pillow and cover your face with it. “This is Chenle we’re talking about. I stopped asking about motives a long time ago.”
“Was he like this before?”
“No.” Your chest deflates. “Honestly, he used to be a really good friend, even when we were…you know. Are you mad that I slept with him?”
“Why would I be mad?” He frowns. “I mean, you know I like you. But I’m not gonna tell you what you can and cannot do with your body just because of that. If we were exclusive, it’d be different.”
“I almost stopped him. He’s just…familiar, if that makes sense.” Your cheeks heat up as you bite your tongue to stop yourself from continuing. The last thing you need to do is make any of this worse.
“I think we all have that person we’re weak for.” Mark gives you a half smile. “I get it.”
You cradle your pillow in your lap and rest your head in your palms. “This is probably the last thing you want to talk about.”
“I’ve had more favorable conversations,” he agrees. “And…if you don’t want something with me, that’s fine, you know? You just gotta be honest with me.”
The stark contrast between him and Chenle almost makes you question everything. Mark treats you the way you’re meant to be treated—kindly, with respect, like you matter. Chenle, on the other hand? He was nice to you when sex wasn’t involved…for the most part.
Back before he’d met his girlfriend, he was as close to perfect as he could get. He was respectful of you, he didn’t push your boundaries, he took care of you. Now it was manipulation and heartache and lies. Chenle lied to you. He said he missed you, that all he thought about when he was with her was you, and you couldn’t even try to believe that anymore. It made no sense.
Actions speak louder than words.
But if Mark is perfect, why the hell are you still thinking about Chenle?
“I can do that.” You sit there for a moment, contemplating what you’re even going to say to make any of this better. “I…I like you, but I like him, too.”
“So it wasn’t just sex.” Mark tries to understand, confusion plastered across his face.
“It was. But when he was here the other night, I kind of realized I didn’t think that way anymore. Everything he said to me…It just doesn’t feel fake, I guess.” You fidget with your fingers, unsure of why you’re giving so much detail to him.
“That changes things a little bit.” He shifts, resting one of his arms on his knee. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m still not mad. But I think you need to figure things out. I’m not okay with being a second choice, (Y/N). And I hope you know you deserve better than the bullshit he’s been putting you through.”
“I’m trying,” you tell him.
“Right.” He stands, brushing his jeans off. “Do me a favor and call me when you figure things out, okay?”
“I–”
“It’s alright. I’ll talk to you later.”
You can’t even get another word out before Mark is out of the door. Shock courses through you, and you wonder if you made a mistake by telling him about your feelings for Chenle. Yes, his actions have been questionable lately, but that’s not the Chenle you knew. The Chenle you knew is the sort of guy who falls on the floor laughing, the over competitive to a fault sort, and whoever the hell left your apartment that night was not him.
Fantastic. Now you don’t have Mark, either.
The rest of the day is spent sitting in the exact same spot. You try to find something to keep you occupied, but without hearing from Mark, your phone is drier than the Sahara desert. Not to mention nothing seems interesting to you anymore. Staring at the ceiling has become quite the hobby.
You didn’t realize how often you spoke with Chenle until he was gone from your life completely. The two of you used to text constantly, not about anything in particular. Feeling the lack of his company hurts deep in your soul, in a way that shakes you to your core.
When you head into your kitchen to throw a bag of popcorn into the microwave, you don’t even get the bag out of the plastic before you hear a knock. Frowning, you check around to see if Mark had left anything, and maybe it was him coming back for it.
You don’t find anything, but you walk over and throw the door open. Everything inside you shifts, the blood apparently draining from your body at the sight of Chenle standing in your doorframe.
You barely even have a second to think before he’s lunging forward, a hand grasping the small of your back as he leads you back into your apartment and kisses you like his life depends on it. Shock courses through you, and by the time he’s pulling away, you’re at a loss for words.
You should be mad at him. You should push him away and ask him why the fuck he’s suddenly back.
Except that’s no longer on your mind when you catch the look in his eyes. You quickly realize Mark was right—everyone has someone they’re weak for, and for you? It’s Chenle. His chest heaves from the abruptness of the kiss, his tongue darting out to wet his full lips.
“God, I need you so fucking bad right now,” he groans, pulling you flush against him.
You don’t question it. In your mind, this means his girlfriend must’ve left again. She no longer exists in your mind. Chenle would never do that to someone.
“I saw him leave,” Chenle whispers, trailing his lips down your neck to where it meets your shoulder. “Every time I see him with you, I want to kill him.”
“Chenle, I—”
“You like getting me strung up like this, huh?” He nips your skin. “I hate thinking about anyone else fucking you.”
Your world spins around you, and you’re half-convinced this is a dream, but you feed into it regardless. You’ve craved him the entirety of his absence, so if this is all in your head, you’ll thank yourself when you wake up.
“You can’t leave again,” you say, tangling your fingers in his hair.
“I won’t, baby,” he hums, resting his forehead on yours. “Can’t stay away from you.”
You tug him back to you, mouths smashing together. Every logical thought you’ve ever had has quickly exited, leaving you alone with a next to primal desire for the man before you. When you pull on his hair, he moans into your kiss, sending excited chills up and down your spine.
Remembering Mark briefly, you push Chenle away, turning toward your kitchen and aching for oxygen. You hate the way you want to forget the past two weeks. Like everything he’s done to you doesn’t matter anymore because he suddenly wants you again.
It’s not okay. You know it’s not, but somehow, it’s not enough to change your mind. You have to distance yourself from him, or every ounce of self-respect you’ve ever had gets flushed down the drain.
“(Y/N), where are you going?” Irritation tinges his voice.
“Better question,” you say, pointing an accusing finger at him. “Where the hell have you been?”
His eyebrows pinch, creasing his forehead. You swear you see a hint of guilt, but it disappears from your view when he turns his head.
“You think you can disappear for weeks and then when you show up at my door, I’ll just drop my pants for you?”
“That’s not what I said,” he replies with a scoff. “I don’t know what I was thinking, okay? I saw you and it just…I need you.”
“No.” You shake your head. “You don’t get to do that anymore.”
“What the hell is your problem?” Chenle’s voice raises. “You were never like this before.”
You freeze, a laugh of disbelief escaping your lips as you slap a hand over your mouth. “I’m the one that’s different?”
A shaky breath follows, and then you break into a psychotic laughing fit, gripping onto the counter as actual tears well in your eyes as you try to regain your composure.
“Your girlfriend broke up with you because you left pictures of me in your phone,” you remind him. “And then your first response was to come to my house and tell me how much you missed me and how much you need me, but then you went running back to her the second she was willing to talk about it.”
“That’s—”
“I’m not done,” you snap. Your fury grows, and red clouds your vision. “I warned you. I warned you she would make you choose, and you left without any hesitation. And I haven’t heard from you this whole time, so what the hell was I supposed to think?”
“Are you done now?” He narrows his eyes at you, crossing his arms over his chest.
You run your tongue over your teeth, nodding slowly. “You know what? Yeah. I am. Get out, Chenle.”
“Hey, that’s not what I meant—” He takes a step forward, and you take a matching one backward.
“Does she know you’re here?” You raise your eyebrows. “If I texted you right now, would I still be blocked?”
Chenle glances up at the ceiling. He doesn’t even need to tell you the answer—you already know.
“Oh, my God.” You stumble a little further back. “You just barged into my apartment, tried to get with me, and you’re still with her?”
“It’s not like that.”
“Oh, then please do enlighten me. How is it?”
“Why do you have to do this right now?” he asks, tugging his fingers through his hair as he turns away.
You don’t know him anymore. That much is clear to you—you will never be his, he will never be yours. Nothing about this situation is going to work, not that you ever truly thought it would in the first place. Could you really even be mad at him? You knew what you were getting yourself into when everything started.
“What do you feel about me?” you ask, folding your arms over your chest.
“What the hell are you talking about?” he shoots back, recoiling.
“Am I even your friend anymore?” You scoff. “Be fucking serious right now, do you see me as anything other than an easy fuck?”
“There’s nothing exactly easy about you, (Y/N).” He narrows his eyes at you. “I’m not letting you go.”
“Your girlfriend doesn’t want you here, Chenle.” You try to stay as cool as possible, letting your anger dissipate. “If you’re not going to leave her, you need to leave me. She made you pick, and now I am, too.”
“Are you serious?”
“Clearly.” 
“Not really sure where this fucking ego came from, but I don’t even know you anymore.” He shakes his head, turning away from you.
“Yeah,” you agree. “You’re too busy saving face in a relationship you’re clearly not too attached to. Does she not fuck you good enough?”
His silence is all you need. You imagine the way he closes his eyes, like his emotions are becoming too much for him.
“Or, I bet she hasn’t touched you at all since you got back together. Poor Chenle, can’t stand not getting his dick wet for a fucking month. You realize you’re doing exactly what she expects you not to do?”
“Yeah, because you’re such a saint, right?” He lets out a bitter laugh. “Hanging out with Mark and leading him on when I’m clearly the one you want.”
“If you don’t leave, I’m calling your girlfriend to come get you,” you threaten him, cocking an eyebrow.
“You’re gonna regret this,” he says.
“I don’t think I will.”
He leaves you alone, and all you can do is crumble to the floor when he shuts the door behind him. You trace over your lips, guilt sinking in at the thought of kissing Chenle when his girlfriend already thinks so low of you. How could you do this to her? She never did anything wrong to you.
As much as you know it’ll hurt, you steel your resolve. You deserve better, and this is exactly what you needed to catapult you toward Mark. He’ll be good to you, and eventually, you’ll get over Chenle. Hopefully, it’s not at Mark’s expense.
Jaemin was throwing a party. He invited Mark, who obviously decided he would take you. It’d been almost a month since Chenle burst into your apartment, so you figured you would be mostly over him in case he decided to show up at the same place.
Jaemin’s place was huge—hence why he’s always the host of these parties. The three story home is like a mansion, complete with dozens of empty rooms upstairs and vast space on the downstairs level for hundreds of people.
By the time you and Mark arrive, it’s already full. There are a few separate living rooms with giant couches, and random chairs strewn about for extra seating arrangements. Jaemin’s group usually sticks together. Years ago, when Chenle originally met them, he was the one who introduced you to the group. Everyone understood the dire situation between the two of you, but no one except Mark knew the full truth.
Since Chenle’s not there when you and Mark sit down, you hope that means he’s not coming at all.
Your relationship with Mark has gone well. You agreed to make it official, and the two of you proceeded to do normal relationship things. Even though you still have yet to sleep with him, you’ve done other things, and you were enjoying the slow pace you were taking. It was a nice contrast to the way things were with Chenle.
You sit on Mark’s lap, dropping your head into his neck while you laugh at something Jaemin said from across the room. His hands are latched around you firmly.
“No, that’s not even how that happened, dude.” Mark shakes his head, excitedly pointing at Jeno. “That motherfucker is just faster than me, okay? How was I supposed to know that?”
“You can just say you suck at sports,” Jeno retorts, grinning as he sips his drink.
Jisung stands from the other end of the couch. “Chenle’s here, gonna go grab him.”
You tense, and even though Mark feels it, you hope it’s not obvious to everyone else. Your boyfriend’s grip tightens on you, and he rubs his thumb on your hip in an attempt to comfort you. This’ll be the first time you’ve seen Chenle in a while, and you have no doubt in your mind that his girlfriend will be here too. You’ve met her plenty of times, but now it was different. She won. And she knows it, too.
“Are you okay?” Mark whispers in your ear. “We can do something else if you don’t want to be around him.”
“I’ll be fine.” You run your fingers through his hair and smile at him. “Thank you, though.”
“You sure?”
“Why wouldn’t I be? You know I don’t want him anymore.” You cup his cheeks and press a quick kiss to his lips. “You’re all I need and more.”
“Let me know if you change your mind. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.” He squeezes you once, and then the two of you return to your conversation with Jaemin and Jeno.
Renjun brings drinks for everyone, and you gratefully accept yours. As you tip the cup to your lips, three figures make their way through the darkness and into their spots on the couch. Jisung, Chenle, and his girlfriend.
She sits between him and Jisung, leaving Chenle only a few feet away from you. You make brief eye contact, and the only acknowledgement he gives you is a quick raise of his brows. His gaze sweeps over how you’re positioned on Mark, and you’re almost certain you see a scowl on his face right before he sits.
He rests against the cushion, crossing his legs before he puts his arm around his girlfriend and tugs her close to him. She doesn’t even seem to notice your existence, and you feel hate bubble in your gut at the thought of them being happy together.
Mark pokes your side, making you laugh as you curl further into him.
“What are you doing?” you ask, grabbing his hand. “You know I’m ticklish.”
“I just like touching you.” He winks and takes a large sip of his drink.
“You’re pretty good at it, too.” You watch the smile on his face widen, and only when Jaemin says your name, are you shaken away from Mark.
“(Y/N), last time I had a party, didn’t you and Chenle get so drunk that you convinced him to dance on top of the pool table?” Jaemin’s voice is filled with laughter at the memory. “Guys, he wouldn’t get down. She had to go up there and try to get him down. They’re fucking crazy together. Makes a party.”
“Ah, yes, too bad you got rid of the pool table.” You set your drink down and shuffle on Mark’s lap.
Jaemin frowns. “No, I didn’t—”
“I’m sure you’ve got better stories than that trainwreck,” Chenle joins in.
You’ve been doing relatively well. Honestly, you thought you were making decent progress in getting over Chenle, but his words still sink into your gut and churn there until it turns into anger.
How can you make him hurt the same way he’s hurt you?
A plan forms in your mind, and you hide your smirk with your drink. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch the way his girlfriend is staring at you. Her gaze drags over you as if she’s assessing which parts of you Chenle ever liked.
Well, it’s not like she hasn’t seen them. He only kept them saved for a year.
Time for you to put on a show. You want to piss them both off, and you know exactly how you can do just that.
You lean in to whisper in Mark’s ear. “Does this make you uncomfortable?”
“No, of course not.” He pulls away to look at your face. “You know it doesn’t.”
“Good. Then you know that I want you.”
He smirks. “Keep squirming this much, and you’ll know how much I want you, too.”
Mark gets a little more confident when he drinks, and you enjoy it. He reaches down and squeezes your ass quickly, but all that does is make you move more. The two of you laugh together, and he leans forward like he’s going to kiss you.
“Yo, if you two are gonna fuck, can you at least take it upstairs?” Jaemin throws his empty cup at the two of you, but since it’s a red solo cup, it ends up barely making it half the distance.
Mark’s lips brush your ear. “Kinda like the sound of that.”
You can’t even hide the shiver that runs down your spine. Instead of answering, you slide off his lap and hold your hand out to him. He gets up quickly and wraps his arm around your waist and tugs your back to his front before placing a kiss on your neck. The other boys whoop and holler as he guides you toward the stairs, both of you giggling the entire way.
You look over your shoulder, giggles fading when you catch the glare on Chenle’s face. If looks could kill, you’re sure both you and Mark would be eviscerated by now. He’s almost taunting you, daring you to move forward and go upstairs with Mark. Chenle’s girlfriend is scowling for a different reason, irritation plastered on her face while her arms are crossed over her chest.
After a few seconds like that, Chenle disappears from your view as Mark hand dips to squeeze your ass again. You intertwine your fingers with his and lead him all the way to the end of the hall. The door is unlocked, and the room is empty, so you close it behind you.
Mark smiles as you wrap your arms over his shoulders. You barely take time to appreciate it before you press your lips to his. He hums against your mouth. He walks you backwards, hands on your butt, until the back of your knees hit the mattress.
“You’re sure this is okay?” he mutters, gently kissing down your neck. “I’ve wanted to fuck you for so long.”
Your breath shudders, and you nod. “It’s more than okay.” You refuse to waste anymore time. Reaching beneath his shirt, you nudge it up his body.
He pulls it off in a swift motion, allowing you time to trace your fingers along his muscles. You push him onto the bed, and he backs up until he’s sitting against the headboard. Without hesitation, you join him in taking your shirt off. The lace of your bra is practically non-existent, but he gulps as you climb on top of him.
You guide his hands to your breasts, sighing when he squeezes them. Grinding down on him, you hold onto his shoulders. You feel his hardness through his shorts, and you lunge forward to kiss him. His tongue battles with yours, and you start to slowly lift yourself from his lap and sink back down as if you were riding his cock. Groaning, he kisses you harder, grasping your hips and helping you grind down on him, back and forth in rhythm with the way his mouth clashes with yours.
The straps of your bra fall down your arms and you tilt your head back at the deliciousness of the friction. Mark nips your collarbone, thrusting up to gain more friction.
“Fuck,” he moans. “Want you on my cock so bad.”
“God, me too.” You move faster, your body shaking and heat infiltrating every inch of you. It’s about time you took this step with Mark, and despite the way the glare on Chenle’s face as you went up the stairs with Mark excited you, you know Mark is everything you want.
He unbuttons your shorts, and you lift up to allow him to pull them down. Before his fingers can even latch onto the belt loops, the door slams open. Mark reacts quickly, flipping you over so he covers you with his body until he can get the throw blanket at the edge of it over you.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Mark hisses, quickly grabbing his shirt from the floor.
You clutch the blanket to your chest as you let your gaze travel to the door, and when you make eye contact with Chenle, your stomach twists.
“I…” Chenle pauses, glancing between Mark and you. “I don’t know.”
Tears well, but you refuse to let them fall in front of Chenle. You can’t lie and say you weren’t hoping this is what would happen, but now that it’s here, you have two men looking at you for answers.
“You’re a shitty person, you know that?” Mark says to Chenle. “What is she to you? A fucking toy? You think it makes you fucking cool to ditch her and then not want her to be with someone else?”
“What, and you treat her better? You were about to fuck her at a party—”
“Better than fucking her while I still have a girlfriend,” Mark snaps.
“What?” A soft voice sounds from behind Chenle, and he grimaces.
“No, that never happened, I—” Chenle frantically looks to you for support, fear in his eyes as he silently begs you to help him.
But you refuse to. It’s his own fault he’s in this situation.
Footsteps retreat, but Chenle stays put, panic rising as he tries to figure out whether or not he should stay or if he should go after his girlfriend.
“You’ll never fucking be anything to her,” Chenle spits at Mark. “You think she’ll ever think of you the way she thinks of me? She’s mine, and you’re an idiot if you think you stand a chance—”
Mark’s fist connects with Chenle’s jaw, and you scream. Launching up from the bed, you push yourself between them before Chenle can retaliate. You pant as you pull the straps of your bra back up and face Mark, putting your hand up.
“Mark, I—”
“Oh, fucking forget this.” He laughs, slapping his palm to his forehead. “He’s right, isn’t he? No matter what I do, it’ll always be him?”
You take a step forward. “It’s not like that—”
“He just insulted you, and you stood in front of him. You stood in front of him.” The anger on Mark’s face is new to you, and you feel shame prickle in your gut.
“Please, let me—”
“I wasn’t the one throwing punches,” Chenle says. “So it’s not like she had anything to protect you from—”
“Fuck this. I’m done.” Mark pushes past both of you, stopping to turn back and point. “You two are both fucked up. I don’t want to hear from either of you ever again.”
“Mark—” You start to follow him, but Chenle grabs your wrist. Glaring at him, you try to jerk away from him. “You’ve done enough, leave me alone.”
“It’s not…not like that. You’re half-naked, (Y/N), at least get dressed before you follow him.”
You curse loudly, running back into the room to grab your shirt from the floor. Tears blur your vision as you tug on the fabric back on and button your shorts. You try to ignore Chenle’s presence—considering that’s how you got here in the first place—but the emotions become too much.
You fall to your knees at the edge of the bed, Chenle’s form a blur as he moves toward you. Your fists clench into the bedding, and your body shakes as you truly realize what you’ve done.
Chenle’s embrace feels natural, easy to melt into, but you push him away with such force, he sits down on the floor next to you.
“Don’t touch me,” you hiss at him. “This is all your fault. Why can’t you just fucking leave me alone?”
“It’s okay,” he replies, nodding. “You should be mad at me. I’m so sorry. I don’t even know what just happened.”
You grip his shoulders and start shaking him. “What’s wrong with you? What happened to you? Where did Chenle go?”
For the first time in months, you see the old him. The one who actually cared for you. Guilt and shame cover his face as he takes in the state you’re in. You eventually become so weak, you crumble. He catches you, stroking the top of your head.
“I’m so sorry.” Chenle squeezes you tightly. “I never wanted to hurt you.”
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nohoney · 5 months
Text
this is somewhat of a personal piece as i sometimes do struggle when the holidays come around but if you happen to resonate with it, i hope there’s some solace found in it
warnings: angsty with some fluff at the end
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A plastic bag of leftover food sits by your legs, occasionally being caught by you when the car’s momentum has it almost toppling over. Not that anything inside would spill out—the Tupperware lids are properly secured and the top knot of the bag is tight. The car ride is quiet as you leave your parents house, not even with music playing. Not from the radio and not from the aux.
The last thing you want to listen to is Christmas music.
“We’re just gonna relax when we get home, alright baby?” Your boyfriend tells you softly, reaching one hand from the wheel to rest on your knee. He’s warm and his touch is comforting. “Everything is over now.”
“I know, Katsuki.”
But you cry anyway.
You try to hold it in at first but you’re sensitive this time of the year, more so than usual. The holidays haven’t been the same for you since you were 22 years old. That year was the toughest you had ever lived through and the holidays that year were supposed to remind you that despite it all, family and loved ones could come together.
Be merry, be cheery, show some spirit.
But your father had ruined that and you hadn’t been able to celebrate Christmas the same ever since. Even now, even as your parents’ home gets farther in the distance, you can’t helping thinking of your father’s anger that had flared and put an awkward bump in the festivities. And the party had moved on with hush whispers and feigning ignorance when he had emerged from the bedroom after stepping away to get space, and your mother had urged everyone to help themselves to dessert.
The Christmas presents sitting in the trunk didn’t matter to you, the leftover food made with your mother’s hard work and love didn’t matter anymore, and you just wanted to slip into bed and sleep until it was New Year’s.
Bakugou carries the presents and you carry the food, walking together in silence until the two of you are behind the front door of your home. Still you wait until you take off your shoes and put them away, you wait until your jacket is taken off, and you wait until the food is placed in the fridge to cry.
You want to tear down the Christmas tree and throw all the decorations into the garbage. It was only put up for formalities anyway, it’s not like you had the same amount of care for it in the last few years. But you try, you try despite the wounds you carry, you try even when the one person who had utterly ruined it before repeats his actions again.
It doesn’t seem to matter as you cry.
No matter the time of year, your father isn’t able to set aside his own temper. Holidays or birthdays or any celebration, he was never able to restrain himself or that anger of his.
“He always ruins things when he gets that way! He doesn’t care, he’s fucking selfish!” you cry into Bakugou’s holiday sweater, your hands grabbing fistfuls of red fabric at the back as you clutch him. His arms come around you, caging you into his body to hold you. There’s no words of reassurance he can offer—it’s best to let you cry and get it out of your system.
Although your father had done a decent job at raising you and putting a good head on your shoulders, you were still raised by an angry man in your house. You were sensitive to tempers and even the slightest change of tone, going into either the pleasing mode or ducking cover if the anger was too much to smooth over.
Knowing this about your father, Bakugou himself had learned to practice an immense amount of restraint to not get carelessly upset over insignificant things. At one point it had almost driven you to end it with him when he was failing his promises to get better. You were a child being raised by one angry person until you finally moved out to get away from it—you had no intention to have a similar dynamic in your romantic relationship as an adult.
Bakugou has always had a temper too, his annoyance flaring up so easily and he was quick to yell back then. He got it from his mom, but the difference was that his own mother had moments of anger and your father was just angry.
It’s scary to Bakugou how you go from crying into his chest to being able to calm down in just a mere manner of seconds. Like you put yourself on a timer to be upset and then you just shut it off. It’s something he’s told you to not do, that he thinks it’d be healthy for you to cry as long as you want instead of restricting yourself to a few minutes and move on. He figured out pretty quickly it must be how you grew up, to only allow yourself a small amount of time to feel hurt but pick yourself up to continue on without addressing what had caused it in the first place.
Sometimes you do address it, but it’s the kind of thing that takes time to heal and replace it with a healthier mindset.
You curl up on the couch, holding one of your stuffies in your arms and listlessly watch a Christmas film playing on the television. The presents from your parents remain wrapped still and under the tree. The hot chocolate Bakugou made for you is going cold but he doesn’t force you to finish it. A small bowl ramen is unfinished as well. He sits quietly with you, texting one of your friends about your condition. The friend offers their company in hopes of distracting you, but he tells them to enjoy the holiday and that he’ll take care of you.
He feels powerless when these moments happen, not knowing what to say or do for you. The thing that would heal you should come from your father, to hear a proper apology and promise to improve. But as you’ve told Bakugou before that you’ve been raised by a prideful man who very rarely makes apologies, and you weren’t expecting that to change at this point in your life.
It’s close to midnight, almost the end of Christmas, when Bakugou is pulling out the boxes to put away all the decor. He thinks that maybe it would help if he take everything down for you, to not have to sigh over the chore in the morning after the holiday you just had. But when you come out to find him and take him to bed, you ask what he’s doing.
“Taking down the decor. Just go sleep baby, I’ll do it.” He assures you, moving to where you are and to send you to bed with a kiss.
“It’s okay, leave it up.” You say to him, “I want it up, just for an extra day.”
“You sure?”
You nod your head and lean against him, your arms coming around in a loose hug that he returns tightly. “Let’s act like tomorrow is Christmas instead. I want a do-over.”
It’s an easy request, one that Bakugou is more than willing to work with.
So you wake up the next morning, asking for hot chocolate from him and actually finish the entire drink. The leftovers are warmed up in the microwave and you manage to eat a whole plate. You carefully open up the presents, your smile wavering a bit when you open the card attached from your parents, but they at least bought you something practical that your home needed. He watches as you manage to have a short phone call with your parents to thank them for the gifts, still not addressing what happened just yesterday and acting like it didn’t happen.
You don’t have the heart to confront it and maybe it’s going to remain that way forever. You don’t want it to control you either, to always give in to that familiar despair that’s been attached to this time of year. Maybe your father will still continue to be angry despite celebrations taking place or whatever season it is, it’s been that way all your life. There was just no helping it, only tolerating.
“Merry Christmas, Katsuki.”
And Bakugou doesn’t have all the right answers, all he can do is stand by you and be there when you need him. He knows that him just being here means more to you than you’re willing to admit.
“Merry Christmas baby.”
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lives-in-midgard · 7 months
Text
Halloween With The Maximoff Family
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Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x reader including Billy and Tommy Maximoff
Summary: You celebrate your first Halloween with your girlfriend Wanda and her kids.
Word Count: 1150
A/N: Hey everyone! Happy Halloween and I hope you like this Halloween fic with the Maximoff family. This fic takes place in the same universe as my Maximoff family easter fic.
Masterlist
It’s been a few months since you, Wanda, and the boys celebrated Easter together. It was such a beautiful day and the day they called you mom for the first time. You remember it like it was yesterday. Billy was the first one to say it, you were playing Wii together and he suddenly said it. Later that day when you and Wanda brought them to bed, they both said “goodnight mom” to you. You were so happy and so was Wanda. A lot had happened since then. You celebrated birthdays together; you had a lot of fun at the summer activities, helped take care for them when they were sick, and moved in a few weeks ago.
You just finished work and were on your way home. It still felt new to call it home, even though you’ve spent a lot of time there since the beginning of the year, but now it’s truly your home. You were still a few meters away from the house when you immediately noticed that something was different. As you approached the house, you finally saw what it was. There were Halloween decorations in front of the house, on the windows and even on the door. You parked your car in front of the house and walked to the door. You looked at the decorations and chuckled because you didn’t know that Halloween was such a big deal at the Maximoff family. Before you opened the door, you suddenly heard screaming from the inside and then went in.
“Boys it’s enough.” Wanda said and then noticed you. There was as much decoration inside the house as there was outside.
“Mom is here.” Billy shouted and was running towards you. He hugged you and then Tommy ran to you too. You hugged them both and smiled at Wanda, who was now hanging a garland on the wall with her magic. You walked up to her and hugged her from behind.
“Hey, my love.” You whispered and Wanda turned around to face you.
“Hey detka.” She smiled and you kissed.
“I didn’t know Halloween is such a big deal here. “You said after a while.
“You don’t like it.” Wanda assumed but you shook your head.
“No, I was just surprised.”
“Billy and Tommy love it and it’s also a memory of mine. I loved to celebrate it with Pietro.” Wanda told you and you started to smile and took her hand. When you turned around you saw the boys putting up decorations somewhere.
“But you can be sure that everything here will be decorated for Christmas as well because that’s my favorite holiday.” You confessed and Wanda chuckled.
“I can’t wait for that.” You smiled at each other and were about to kiss when suddenly Billy and Tommy ran towards you and Wanda. You pulled away and looked at them.
“Mom, do you want to go trick or treating with us?” Billy said and looked at you. You turned to Wanda who was smiling.
“Of course, I want.”
“That’s so cool, we’re gonna have so much fun.” Billy happily said and Tommy agreed with his brother.
“But you have to help me find a costume.”
“That’s okay, I also don’t have one yet. We can go to a shop later.” Wanda suggested and the boys smiled. You had dinner and then decided to go to the shop Wanda had suggested earlier. Wanda drove and you sat in the passenger seat while the boys sat in the back. Wanda turned on the radio and smiled. You could see that she was really happy with the kids and you by her side. When you arrived at the shop you all walked around, looking for a costume for you and Wanda. After a while you found the perfect costume for the two of you.
The days until Halloween passed very quickly and it was finally the day. You woke up to Wanda snuggled up to you and placing a gentle kiss on your forehead.
“Good morning detka.”
“Morning Wands.” You mumbled because you were still tired. After lying in bed and cuddling with your wonderful girlfriend for a while, you decided to get up and get ready for the day. You and Wanda both went into the bathroom and brushed your teeth next to each other. During the breakfast the boys were really looking forward to the day and couldn’t wait to go from house to house.
The time has come, and everyone went to their rooms to change. You had to smile when you saw Wanda in her costume.
“What?” She asked shyly.
“Oh, it’s nothing.” You said with a grin, walked closer to her and pulled her into a kiss. You finally had a moment to yourself when you heard Tommy from the other side of the door.
“Mama we are finished.” Wanda groaned and you chuckled.
“We’re coming boys!” Wanda yelled and gave you one last kiss before going out of the door.
“Oh, Billy, Tommy you look so cool.” That’s what you said when you saw their costumes. You all went into the living room, picked up your buckets from the table and went outside. Billy and Tommy led the way while you and Wanda walked behind them holding hands. They went from house to house and Wanda and you followed them. You really had fun and laughed a lot with them. Sometimes a child jumped out and tried to scare you. Once a child managed to scare you, you screamed and squeezed Wanda’s hand stronger. The kids laughed because they scared you, but Wanda looked at you worried.
“Everything’s okay.” you tried to reassure her.
“You sure detka?” Wanda asked and you nodded. You walked to a few more houses until Wanda decided it was time return home. But before they walked back home, they had one more house left. Tommy knocked on the house next door and it only took a few seconds for Agnes to open the door.
“Hey boys finally you’re here. Look I have something for you.” She said and gave them some sweets. Before you went back home, Agnes smiled at you and Wanda and said she would like to come over tomorrow. When you got home you all changed into comfortable clothes and sat down on the couch to watch a Halloween movie. Wanda sat next to you while the boys decided what movie they wanted to watch. Using her magic, Wanda pulled one of the buckets of candy off the table and into her lap. She started eating some and handed you some. Then Billy and Tommy grabbed something too. When the movie started, you laid your head on Wanda’s shoulder and were so happy. You can’t wait to celebrate Christmas with them. And you know for sure that it will be great, and you will have a lot of fun.
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Taglist:
@marvelogic | @eviebuggg | @yelenasdiary |
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javierpena-inatacvest · 7 months
Text
Chapter 14- Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas
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Summary: You and Javi celebrate your first Christmas together in Laredo
Word Count: 11.3K (could be worse?)
Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v sex (don't be a fool, wrap your tool), oral (f receiving), face sitting (awh hell yes), creampie, praise kink, breeding kink, mentions of food/eating, mentions of grief/death (but it's sweet), children being assholes (I'm a teacher, I'm allowed to say it), our favorite idiots Carter and Miller making a brief appearance (I missed them), Javi being so sweet with kids (this does deserve a warning, I'm sorry) Javi being so kind, patient, thoughtful, amazing UGH he is too good for this earth 🥹😩
A/N: Thank you for your patience as I finally get this chapter done! Life has been absolutely crazy these past two weeks, so I'm hoping now that things have settled down, I can get back to working on chapters at a more regular schedule 🥴 If you're a Christmas girlie (gender neutral) like me, this chapter is for you, because even though it's only October, I really can't help myself (and like these two idiots celebrating Christmas together for the first time?! C'mon 🥺)
Series Masterlist Next Chapter Previous Chapter
“So you’re leaving early today to do arts and crafts? That’s a new one.” Agent Miller snickered, leaning over his desk to slap his partner, Agent Carter, in amusement as they watched their boss begin to organize his desk and pack up his briefcase, already rolling his eyes in annoyance at the grief he was about to get from his co-workers for his early departure. 
“I’m not the one doing the arts and crafts. I’m just going into her class to help, you idiot.” Javi sighed, glaring at Miller as he finished sorting the rest of his paperwork piles. 
Last week, you had asked Javi if he would be able to come into your classroom one afternoon when he wasn't busy, to help with the project you were planning for your students to give to their parents as a Christmas gift before they left for winter break. You had quickly realized that for the sake of your sanity,  what you had planned was nowhere near a one man job, and because it was a surprise gift for their families, you didn’t want to ask any parents to come into help. Javi had happily accepted, even with your adamant warnings of the case of Christmas Crazies your class had with only days left before winter break. 
“…. To help do arts and crafts. Just callin’ a spade a spade here, Peña. Does that mean we’re gonna start having craft time here, too?” Miller and Carter chuckled to themselves, smirking at Javi, now slinging his briefcase over his shoulder, making his way out of his office. 
“Listen, Miller. Give Peña all the shit you want, but I would way rather be cutting and gluing shit and throwing fist fulls of glitter in the air than working on these fucking reports.” Carter huffed, waving the file folder Miller was supposed to be working on in his face before throwing it back down on his desk. 
“Fair enough.” 
“I wouldn’t trust you dumbasses with scissors and glue if my life depended on it.” Javi groaned, raising an eyebrow at the pair before picking up one of the finished reports off of Carter’s desk, using it to point at the two on his way out. “These better be done by the time I get back tomorrow.” 
“But I’m gonna need extra time to decorate them for you, Peña!” Miller grinned, he and Carter playfully swatting at each other in hysterics, Javi flipping them off as he headed out the door. 
After his mom passed, Javi would have never thought Alma Pierce Elementary School would be a place that would hold any more relevance to him, let alone be a place that he would frequent, now that his future wife worked there. He couldn’t help but smile as he pulled into the parking lot, thinking about the joy it would have brought Lucia to see that her years of having Javi help her with her own classroom were still going to good use with you. He also couldn’t help but smile to himself as he grabbed the coffee sitting in his cup holder he had picked up for you on the way over from the station, also knowing his mom would have had some choice words to say to him if he showed up empty handed to your classroom.  
After checking in with the office, he made the now familiar route down to your classroom, weaving through the tiny bodies patterning down the hallway, screeching and squealing with what had to be uncontrollable Christmas excitement. He gently tapped at your door before opening it, a grin growing across your face as you looked up from your desk as you saw your fiancé with an extra large cup of coffee in his hands at the doorway. 
“Oh my god, you brought me coffee? I owe you my life, you are the best. Thank you.” The sigh you let out felt like the weight of the world lifted off your shoulders as you shot up to run over to Javi, giving him a big hug before snatching the cup out of his hands and taking a long swig of the caffeine you knew you were going to need to get you through the afternoon. 
“I figured you could probably use it.” Javi chuckled, pressing a kiss into the top of your head before looking around, noticing that you were the only one in your room. “Where are the kids?” 
“They’re at lunch, I was just about to leave to go pick them up. They’ve been absolute psychopaths today. I know it’s wrong to say I wanna drop kick a child out a window, but I’m real close.” You grumbled, taking another long sip of your coffee. “I don’t think I would have made it out alive today if you didn’t come in to help, so I apologize in advance for their behavior. I may or may not have told them that because you work for the police you keep track of what kids are well behaved or not to try and scare them a little.” You grimaced, knowing that the comment you had made earlier to your kids when you told them Javi was coming into help wasn’t the most ethical, but you were desperate for anything that would even remotely help control the chaos in your classroom with only 2 days left before winter break. 
“Any kids in particular I need to be on the lookout for?” Javi asked, laughing to himself as you leaned over to set your coffee on your desk before heading towards the door to go pick up your class from the cafeteria. 
“Oh… you’ll know them when you see them.” 
You closed the door behind you, giving Javi a quick wink, leaving him alone in your classroom to wait for the arrival of the promised circus show that was your students. He wandered over to your desk, peeking through the piles of papers, sticky notes of to-do’s and drawings your students had given you. On the wall by your calendars, there was a photo of you and your family, 2 of you and Javi, and a note that he had written you one day and stuck in your lunch box, scribbled down in his rushed handwriting 
Te amo mucho, hermosa. Have a great day.  
-J 
He thumbed gently at the wrinkled note, smiling to himself, still in awe of how the pieces of him seemed to follow you in everywhere you went. The sweet moment was quickly interrupted by the sounds of little voices bursting through the doorway, chattering away as they rushed to go sit on the carpet at the front of the room. 
“Who’s that guy?!” A boy’s voice asked, pointing in Javi’s direction before balling up his body and doing a literal somersault across the carpet. 
“It’s Mr. Peña! Do you not remember when our teacher told us before lunch that he was coming, dummy?” A girl’s voice responded, rolling her eyes at the boy, now laying face down on the floor. As more and more kids came over to the carpet, the more and more voices began to chime in. 
“Don’t call him a dummy, Angela, that’s mean!”
“Well he is!” 
“Why does that guy have a mustache?” 
“My uncle has a mustache!” 
“When are we going home?” 
“Miguel tried to kick me in the nuts at recess!” 
“I did not!” 
You buried your hands in your face, letting out a deep sigh, shaking your head before looking back at Javi, quietly mouthing “I’m so sorry.” across the room before making your way to the front of the class. 
“If you can hear me, clap once.” 
3 or 4 half hearted claps followed over the chatter. 
“If you can hear me, clap twice.” 
More students began to join in, curious to see that Javi was now also following your directions. 
“If you can hear me, put your hands on your head and turn off your voice.” 
Finally, the volume of your room began to ease, all of your students, and Javi, quietly looking at you with their hands resting on top of their heads. 
“Okay, 3rd graders. Right now, we are going to work on our holiday presents for our grownups we’ve been talking about all week. Remember how I told you this morning that we have someone special coming in to help today?” The class nodded, eyes glued on Javi. “This is Mr. Peña. Can you guys say hi?” 
“Hi, Mr. Peña!” The class waved at him, Javi now smiling and waving back at them. 
“Mr. Peña is taking time out of his day to come help us with our project, so we need to show him what a respectful, responsible and safe class we are, okay? If we can follow directions and everyone gets their project done, then we will have time for extra recess at the end of the day.” Javi snickered at the silent grins and high-fives on the carpet in hopes of bonus time outside. “Once you glue your picture on your plate to make your snowglobe, you can come see me to put the snowflakes inside, and then take it over to Mr. Peña and he’s going to hot glue it for you.” 
A tiny hand quickly shot up, waving it back and forth. “No, Miguel. You cannot use the hot glue gun. It’s a grownup's only job.” You tried your best not to roll your eyes as Miguel frowned and put his hand back in his lap, knowing damn well he would be one to try and hot glue his hands together. “Do we have any questions before we start?” Almost all of your class’s hands shot up immediately, all beaming at Javi, frantically wiggling their arms in the air. You laughed to yourself, knowing that none of them had any questions about the project, and just wanted to talk to Javi. “Are these all just questions for Mr. Peña?” The class nodded, now squirming in their spots. “Okay, we can do 3 questions right now, and maybe if we have time at the end we can ask him some more questions. Is that okay, Mr. Peña?” 
“Uh, yeah. Yeah, sure.” Javi smiled, trying his best to keep from smirking at you and your teacher voice that seemed to be having a much stronger effect on him than he had intended.  
“Okay, Mr. Peña is going to pick 3 people who are sitting on their bottom and are waiting quietly and patiently for a turn.” You couldn’t help but smirk back at him as he stepped next to you on the front of the carpet, nervously running his thumb over his knuckles to prepare for his interrogation from 8 and 9 year olds. He pointed over to a girl at the back of the group, nodding to her to ask whatever was on her mind. 
“So you’re marrying our teacher? Do you love her? Have you ever kissed her before?” The entire class erupted with giggles as Javi’s face went red with embarrassment. 
“Uh,  yeah. I love her a lot and that’s why we’re getting married.” Javi leaned over to whisper in your ear as the kids continued to snicker. “Am I allowed to answer the last part?” 
“We’re not gonna talk about kissing at school, okay, Maya?” You laughed, giving Javi a little nudge as he pointed to the next student, picking a boy this time, in hopes that he wouldn’t have intense questions about his love life. 
“Our teacher said that you work at the police station. Have you ever arrested anyone? Do you catch bad guys?” One of the boys asked, the rest of the class leaning in with intrigue. Javi rubbed his hand over the back of his neck, trying to maneuver another hard hitting question. 
“Well I uh, I help train the guys who catch the bad guys, I don’t actually go out and catch them.” 
“SO YOU DON’T THROW PEOPLE IN JAIL?!” Miguel shouted out, barely letting Javi answer his question. 
“I’m gonna throw you in jail, Miguel…” you muttered under your breath, hiding your face behind Javi’s shoulder, the both of you trying to contain your laughter. 
“No, I don’t. Uh okay, last one.” He pointed to another girl who had been patiently waiting with her hand raised the entire time Javi had been sharing. 
“One time, my grandpa punched my dad in the face, and they kept punching and punching and so then my mom called the police, and then he had to go to jail and my Grandpa kept yelling you motherfu-.” 
“OKAY, on that note we’re gonna start with our projects, everything is already on your desks. Come see me for snowflakes and Mr. Peña for gluing both pieces together.” Your eyes widened in horror, jumping in to try and cut her off before she could finish the rest of her thought. It had thankfully seemed like the rest of the class had been oblivious, racing back to their desks to work on their projects. You pinched the bridge of your nose before rubbing your fingers against your temples, trying not to wither away from the embarrassment your class had decided to subject you to with their questions for Javi. 
“... I am so sorry.” You sighed, shaking your head as you looked over at Javi, trying his best to keep from laughing at the antics your class was already up to before they had even started working on their project. 
“Is this what it’s like every day?” Javi’s eyes widened as he looked out at the classroom, already overwhelmed by the noise and bodies moving everywhere. 
“It’s normally not this bad, I swear I’m a good teacher. With it being 2 days before break, as long as everyone makes it home alive, I’m calling it a win. Thank you again for coming to help, Jav. You okay to man the hot glue station?” 
“Of course, Osita.” He smiled, giving your hand a little squeeze. 
“Miguel will legitimately try to glue his hands together, so just be… extra careful when he comes around.”  
You couldn’t have been more thankful that Javi had agreed to help you with your project, because passing out confetti snowflakes alone was enough to make you lose your mind, let alone try and glue things together, too. Through the chaos, you and Javi found yourself exchanging quick glances, quietly laughing to yourself at the craziness. You couldn’t help but stare a little longer as you watched Javi your students, patiently helping each of them, listening to them share about who they were planning on giving their handmade gift to, complementing them on their work,  and carefully monitoring to make sure no one (especially Miguel) got too close to the hot glue gun. You’d be lying if  you said it ever got old watching how goddamn sweet he was with any kid he talked to, making your heartbeat a little faster at the thought of how much sweeter he’d be when it was one of your own. 
By some miracle, everyone had finished with their gift before it was time for gym, glady sending them on their way to go burn off some excessive energy to help you through the last few hours of the day. Javi’s mom had clearly trained him well, coming back to find him helping to clean up the leftover mess from your crafts after dropping your class off. 
“You don’t have to help clean up, Jav. You’ve already done more than enough.” You sighed, sitting yourself on top of the desk Javi was next to, reaching out to grab his hand. 
“Osita. If this is what you do every fucking day all day long, the least I can help you do is clean up. Jesus Christ, this was fucking exhausting.” 
“Well, I really threw you into the worst of it, so I apologize. Thank you again for helping. The kids really liked you. They kept asking the whole way to gym when you were going to come back. I told them when they stopped acting like a pack of wild monkeys, maybe you’ll consider.” You and Javi laughed, Javi gently resting his hand on your knee, thumb circling against your jeans. 
“I’ll come back any time, Hermosa. Getting to watch my hot, future wife kick ass at her job is way better than having to harp on Carter and Miller to run the reports I ask them to every goddamn day. I’m more than happy to stay if you need more help, but I figured since I took the rest of the afternoon off, and I have a genuine appreciation for a fraction of how fucking hard your job is, I would go home and make whatever you want for dinner and finish up shit around the apartment so we can spend tonight doing whatever you want.” You smiled up at Javi, reaching your hand under his chin, pulling it closer to you to plant a quick kiss on his lips. 
“Someone’s really trying to make sure they make their place on the Nice List before Christmas.” You smirked, raising an eyebrow at Javi, crossing your arms over your chest. 
“You deserve it all, Osita. It’s seriously the least I can do. Although, the things I wanna do to you later are definitely gonna end me up on the Naughty List.” He gripped his hand around the meat of your thigh, giving it a long squeeze as he placed a tender kiss on your lips, trying to use every ounce of self control to remember he was still at your work, let alone an elementary school where an 8 year old could come busting through the door at any moment. 
“You’re such a fucking dork. You’re lucky I love you so much.” You rolled your eyes, playfully swatting at him. “Thank you, Jav. You really are the best. Can we do breakfast for dinner?” 
“I had a feeling that was what you were gonna ask for.” 
“Breakfast is the superior food at all hours of the day, and no one can convince me otherwise.” 
“Pancakes or waffles?” 
“Surprise me.” 
You pecked a quick kiss onto Javi’s cheek before sliding off the desk, wrapping your arms around him, giving him a hug, pressing your face into the fabric of his dress shirt, savoring the familiarity of his sweet and spicy cologne that had become the scent that smelled like home. “Alright, as much as I don’t want you to leave, I probably should be a good teacher and print the rest of the things I need and salvage a survival plan for the next two days before the gremlins get back.” 
“I’ll see you at home, Hermosa. Love you” 
“Love you too.” 
With one last squeeze, and a wave as he headed out the door, Javi left you in your empty classroom, looking out at the disaster left in your student’s wake. Christmas couldn’t come fast enough. 
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Anything that you had planned for the afternoon had quickly gone out the window after your class had returned from gym, your plans for an extra long recess turning into an even longer recess, and part of a movie before sending the kids on their way home. Some way or another, you were able to drag yourself home, the promise of breakfast food keeping you afloat the entirety of your drive home. 
As you walked down the hallway of your apartment, you could hear the quick pops and sizzles of the bacon Javi was cooking over the muffled Christmas music in the background. Turning your key in the lock on the doorknob, you pushed the door open, immediately dropping your school bag and kicking off your shoes, practically falling to the floor from exhaustion. Before you could even turn around to greet Javi, you felt his arms reaching under your legs and around your shoulders, making you squeal as he scooped you up, carrying you across the entry way towards the living room. 
“Hi?” You laughed, looking up at Javi in confusion as to why you had barely made it 2 feet into your apartment before he was picking you up and carrying you away. 
“Hi.” He smiled down at you, giving you a little shake in his grip. 
“Can I ask why you’re carrying me? Am I not allowed to walk anymore?” You guestrued down at the ground, watching your legs dangle with each step Javi took. 
“Because you work harder than anyone I know, and after today, if I’m fucking tired, you must be fucking exhausted, and my amazing, beautiful future wife deserves to relax.”
 He paused, tilting his head down to give you a kiss before turning his body the opposite direction. You had been so focused on Javi as he carried you from the doorway, you hadn’t even realized what was set up in the living room until he had shifted his position, facing you towards it. You looked over to see a blanket fort built between the ends of the couch, TV paused and ready to watch “It’s A Wonderful Life”, and the Christmas tree the two of you had decorated together lit up and twinkling, casting warm shadows on the walls. “Pajamas are in there, so change, lay down and I’m bringing you breakfast while we watch the movie.” 
You could feel the tears welling in your eyes as you looked out at the living room and back up at Javi. “Javi, you didn’t have to-” 
“I know, I didn’t have to do anything. I wanted to. I know how much you love Christmas and how we haven’t done much to celebrate since you’ve been busy with work, so I wanted to do something for you.” A grin grew across Javi’s face, watching your jaw hang open in shock as he set you down, letting you go over to examine his blanket creation. You stood there, shaking your head in disbelief, wondering to yourself how the hell you had gotten so lucky that someone cared enough about you to make you dinner after a long day, let alone plan something special for you, even if it was just in your living room. Before you could even respond, Javi was heading back to the kitchen to turn off the beeping timer of the oven, gesturing over to the fort. “I’ll be in there in a second.” 
“Javi, you set this all up for me, at least let me help with dinner or-” 
“Osita. Go put on pajamas and lay down. I swear to God, you’re the only person I’ve ever met that needs more convincing to go sit and relax than get up and do things.” He laughed, pointing at the covered couch, demanding you to get in. You held your hands up in defense before kneeling down to peek under the blankets Javi had draped over the top to see your comforter, all the pillows and blankets you owned, and your favorite sweatshirt and sweatpants of Javi’s folded neatly on top of everything. You quickly stood back up, unzipping and shuffling out of your jeans, trading them out for the sweatpants before stripping yourself of your shirt and bra, peeking around the corner to see Javi biting down on his bottom lip, eyes glued to you as you slipped his sweatshirt over your head. 
“I should have known better than to think you would have put out clothes for me to change into for any other reason than your own selfish gain, Javier Peña.” You jabbed, Javi shrugging as he grabbed two plates of the breakfast that he had finished cooking, bringing them back over to you. 
“Me? Wanting to watch you change on purpose, knowing damn well you were gonna take your bra off before you put my sweatshirt on? I don’t know what you’re talking about, Osita.” He smirked, a devilish grin growing across his face as he ducked into the fort, giving you a quick wink. 
“You? Wanting to see my boobs? Yeah, you’re right, how silly of me.” You groaned, voice oozing with sarcasm as you followed him, snuggling yourself under a blanket as Javi handed a plate over to you. “In all seriousness, this is really sweet of you, Javi. Thank you. Didn’t picture you as a big blanket fort kind of guy.” You giggled, giving him a little nudge. 
“I would make them all the time when I was little. Especially with my mom. I’d play with Hot Wheels in there, or my mom would read with me- I don’t know, maybe it’s from being with you at school today, and thinking about her, but I got home and thought you’d like it. You seem like someone who made their fair share of blanket forts as a kid.” Javi’s face beamed with a soft smile, the dimples of his cheeks creasing as he grinned over at you. 
“That’s really sweet. She sounds like she was the best mom. That’s a lot sweeter than my memories of building forts. My brothers and I had a pretty much permanent one set up in the basement made from old hockey sticks, but it was referred to in our house as Pound Town. We would go in and beat the shit out of each other with pillows until it collapsed on us and we’d have to pause, try to build it again, and beat the shit out of each other with pillows as we argued about if we were building it right or not. My parents let it slide because we weren’t annoying them, until one day when Patrick and I got in a huge fight about which couch cushions to use and he took one of the hockey sticks and hit me in the face and gave me a black eye. Pound Town was no more after that.” You grimaced, taking a bite of one of the  chocolate chip pancakes Javi had put on your plate. 
“I’m pretty sure at this point, you could tell me that you and your brothers robbed a bank and I wouldn’t be surprised.” 
“We were always well behaved during December, though. My parents definitely played into the threat of being on the naughty list as soon as Thanksgiving was over. At least they got a few weeks of peace each year. I honestly think that my parents were just as excited for Christmas movies as we were, because it at least gave them an hour and a half of semi-silence.” You laughed, nodding your head towards the TV. 
“I’m gonna be honest, Osita. I don’t blame them.” You sighed, leaning your head against Javi’s chest, feeling it rise and fall with each small huff of laughter. “We don’t have to watch “It’s a Wonderful Life” either, I just know you said you liked it and we didn’t get to watch it yet.” 
“No, this is a perfect pick. It’s one of my favorites. You wanna start it?” Reaching over for the remote, you smiled at Javi as he nodded, pressing play as the title credits began rolling across the screen. Javi had quickly come to learn that if you liked a movie, not only were you willing to watch it a million times, you knew just about every line, like you were putting on a one man production of whatever it was you were watching. Although you always quoted everything to yourself under your breath, something about it made Javi’s heart melt, spending more time looking over at you, whispering the lines of the movie to yourself, rather than watching whatever was on the screen. In between bites of breakfast, Javi watched your cheeks turn rosy as you watched a little George and Mary on the screen, eating ice cream at the drugstore, Mary leaning down to whisper in George’s ear. Javi had only seen the movie a handful of times, knowing it nowhere near as well as you, but well enough to know the line you mouthed to yourself wasn’t quite right. 
“Javier Peña, I’ll love you ‘till the day I die.” 
The two of you munched away at the rest of your breakfast dinner, Javi taking both of your empty plates back to the kitchen before nestling back under the blankets, wrapping his arm around your shoulder as you laid your head against his chest. Now watching George and Mary throw stones through the windows of the old, abandoned house, making wishes of what they hoped their lives to be, you snuggled closer to Javi, draping your arm over his waist, twisting the ends of his t-shirt between your fingers. 
“I can’t believe they’re actually gonna start building the house in a few weeks.” You looked up at Javi, beaming with excitement. After Javi’s proposal, both to be his wife and to build the two of you your dream home, you both had been working to draft up and finalize plans for construction to physically start happening. All of the design process had been smooth sailing so far, you and Javi easily agreeing on things you wanted for the house- layouts, designs, sizing- the only thing that was stopping you from moving forward with progress was deciding how many bedrooms the house was going to have. 
“Not too late to tell Danny we need to add another bedroom.” Javi teased, gently squeezing your arm. 
“I think 5 bedrooms is plenty, Mr. Ambitious. If we have more than 4 kids, we might as well add enough rooms to house a baseball team.” 
“I’ll give you a football team’s worth of kids, if you want it.” 
“I know you would, but you’re not the one who has to push a football team’s worth of kids out of you.” You laughed, playfully swatting at Javi before he wrapped his arm around the small of your back, flipping you so that your chest was caged with his, bodies laying pressed against each other. 
“I’m happy with 1 kid or 10. Whatever you want, Osita, I’ll give it to you.” Javi smiled softly, brushing a stray piece of hair from your face before cupping your jaw in his palm, thumb delicately circling across your skin. 
“What if I want you?” You whispered, stretching your head up to nibble at his chin, planting kisses along his face and neck, each one more desperate and hungry than the last. 
“You have me, Hermosa. Forever.” He reached down, grabbing your left hand, carefully twisting the gold and diamond band around your finger in his. It wasn’t long before his hand had left yours, beginning to roam down your shoulders and back before slipping under the waistband of your sweatpants, grabbing handfuls of your ass as you pressed the weight of your hips further into his, feeling his bulge starting to grow underneath you. Working his hands back up around your hips, he pushed your sweatpants and underwear down your legs, slightly raising your lower half to help Javi strip them off your body, leaving your lower half exposed. Javi’s grip tightened around your thighs, suddenly locking his arms around them, scooting you closer to him, now sitting on his chest. 
“Javi, what are you-” You protested, taking a second to realize what Javi was prompting you to do. 
“Wanna take care of you, sweet girl.” He rasped, continuing to pull you closer towards him, now sitting on him near his collarbone, as he cut you off. 
“Are you sure, Jav?” You asked, biting down on your lip, looking down at Javi, lust pooling in the dark brown of his gaze, a devilish smirk stretching across his lips. “I’m always worried I’m gonna suffocate you when we do this.”
“I’m still alive, aren’t I? Baby, if I die between your thighs from you sitting on my face, I’ll die a fucking happy man. Please?” 
“Okay, okay.” You nodded, letting out a little, breathy laugh as Javi tugged you one last time, your already dripping heat hovering over his face. You began to slowly lower yourself down, Javi’s fingertips gripping the flesh of your hips, forcing you to shift your weight onto him, making you moan as you felt his strong nose brush against your clit. You could feel the width of his tongue dragging along your cunt, slowly and deliberately working himself along your sensitive bundle of nerves. His face nestled between your legs, he took his time with each lick, taking extra time to press harder on the spots he knew made you weak, loving how wrecked he could tell you already were as you rolled your hips over his face. You could practically feel his smirk buried in your pussy as the movements of his tongue became more precise, flicking at your clit making you whimper as you braced yourself on the edge of the couch, grasping at the cushions. 
“Javi… Fuck, oh my god.” You whined, feeling the tension begin to build in your belly as Javi wrapped his plush lips around your mound, sucking feverishly as you rocked your hips back and forth, grinding down harder, the hairs of his mustache brushing against your thighs. You could feel him hum in approval against your cunt as your back began to arch, a familiar tingle growing at the base of your spine as his mouth latched firmer around your clit, desperate to make you come undone. 
“Fuck, baby- oh shit- Javi, don’t stop, fuck, fuck, I’m so close. Fuck, I’m- mhhhmmmmmm.” Your orgasm crashed through you, pleasure overtaking your body as you came, whimpering and moaning Javi’s name as he dug his fingers deeper into your flesh, holding you against him as he continued to work you through your high.  Your body went slack, draping your upper half over the edge of the couch as you felt Javi scoot out from under you, looking down to see his face glistening in your slick, accompanied by a boyish grin as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as he gazed back up at you. 
“Goddamn, Hermosa. Fucking soaked me. That feel good, pretty girl? You want more?” You nodded frantically at him, still at a loss for words as your chest heaved with each shaky breath. Gently grabbing your waist, he shifted you down so your back laid buried in the comforters and head rested against a pile of pillows, planting soft kisses down your body as he quickly pushed his sweatpants and boxers down his legs, freeing his painfully hard cock, its tip already dripping with precum, staining the fabric of the pants and underwear it had been straining against. He reached down, stroking his dick as he lined himself up with your entrance, running his tip through your folds, already soaked with your slick from your last orgasm, before slowly pressing inside you, letting you savor every inch of his length buried deep inside you. His hips flushed against yours as he bottomed out, his fullness stretching you open with the sweet sting that had become one of your favorite feelings in the world. “Always so wet for me, Osita. Fuck, I can’t believe this perfect fucking pussy is mine forever. You’re mine forever.” He mewled, slowly pulling himself back before pressing deep inside you again, each stroke making you feel even fuller than the last. 
“Forever.” You whispered back, your voice trembling as his cock pushed further into your cunt, practically hearing the lewd noises of wetness between the both of you as he thrusted in and out. Sitting back on his heels, Javi hooked his arms under your legs, pressing them to your chest, gently rubbing circles against your already throbbing clit before sinking back into you, the stretch of the new angle and added sensation of his fingers making you whine as your arms wrapped around his shoulders, fingernails digging into your back. “Fuck, Javi. You feel so big, fuck, it feels so good.” 
“Fuck me.” Javi hissed, the rhythm of his hips hitting yours beginning to become more rapid and desperate as he watched you writhe under him. “You’re fucking perfect, Osita. Gonna be a perfect wife, a perfect mom, fuck- I can’t wait to marry you, live in our house- oh shit- Fill it with our kids. Fuck, te lo daré todo (I’ll give you everything).” 
Everything was making your mind go blank- his words, his fingers rubbing against your clit, his cock pounding into you, over and over in the spot that had you seeing stars. The coil in your belly began to build as Javi buried his face in the nape of your neck, nipping and sucking at your pulse point, his words hot and heavy on your skin. You could feel your cunt beginning to clench tighter around his length, your heart beating fast as your orgasm began to build with each push and pull out of your heat. “I know you’re close, baby. Give it to me, Hermosa. Cum all over my cock. Gonna fuck myself so deep inside you, shit, can’t wait until I can fuck a baby into you, wish I could make myself stick, fucking get you pregnant right now.” 
Just like that, something inside you snapped, your body tensing as you felt yourself squeeze around Javi’s dick, soaking him as your orgasm ripped through you. A string of expletives and his name fell from your mouth, your brain short circuiting from the overwhelming intensity, sobbing into his shoulder as you came. It wasn’t long until Javi was close behind you, rapidly chasing his own high as he pounded into your heat, dripping with your slick. “That’s it, baby. Such a good girl. Fuck, I’m not gonna last much longer. Meirda- so wet and tight for me. Oh fuck, fuck, I’m gonna cum too, holy- ahhhhhhh.” Javi gritted his teeth as he thrusted one last time, spilling deep in your walls, making sure to milk himself of every last drop as he slumped on top of you, your chests rising and falling in unison as you tried to catch your breath. 
“Jesus Christ…” You laughed to yourself under your breath, reaching up to run your hand through Javi’s curls, dark and damp as they stuck to his forehead. “Javi, if you keep saying shit like that when we fuck, I am gonna end up pregnant before we get married.” 
“And that would be a bad thing because…” Javi smirked, pressing a tender kiss against your lips, feeling his grin on your mouth. 
“Javi!” You giggled, rolling your eyes and playfully swatting at his bare chest as he hovered over you, gently twisting his fingers through the messy ends of your hair. “We have talked about this! Once we’re married and the house is all the way finished, then I’ll toss my birth control in the trash. But until then, you’re really making it work unpaid overtime, you menace. I hate to break it to you, but keeping your dick inside me isn’t gonna do anything for you right now.”
“Like you don’t like it.” He chuckled, the both of you letting out a little hiss at the loss of Javi being buried inside you, feeling the mixture of your spend drip down your thighs as he laid back down next to you, wrapping his arm around your back, pulling you closer as you rested your head on his chest, hiking your leg up over his hip. “I’m just saying, Osita, Christmas is only a few days away, you could just throw it away early and-” 
“JAVI!” You scolded him, giggling as he raised an eyebrow at you, giving a little shrug. “You will get plenty of other presents. That one’s gonna have to wait, as much as I don’t want to either. The house should be done right around the same time as the wedding anyways, so you won’t even have to wait that long.” 
The two of you had very easily decided that you didn’t want a big wedding by any means, bringing Chucho endless amounts of joy when you had asked him if you could have your celebration at the Peña ranch. The thought was the first thing that came to both you and Javi’s minds- something small and simple, really only wanting your close friends and family to join you on your big day in a place that held such importance to the both of you. While you and Javi had agreed that you would have married each other tomorrow, you had compromised with the middle of June, giving you a few weeks after the school year had finished to let you have some time to prep or plan anything else that needed to happen, without the end of the year school stressors on top of it.
 After working with Javi’s cousin, Danny, (who finally received your finalized floor plans a few days ago after finally compromising on your bedroom count), he was able to guess that given that the winter was normally less busy for him and his crew, he would also hopefully have the house done by mid to late June, planning to have the majority of the work completed after you came back from your Honeymoon,  you and Javi offering to finish up any last touches that he wouldn’t be able to get to after you returned. 
While the both of you had agreed that you would wait until you were married before your birth control prescription was canceled, never to be seen again, you managed to talk some sense into Javi, telling him the house needed to be finished before you started trying, God forbidding that something went wrong, leaving you who knows how pregnant in an unfinished house. Regardless, it hadn’t stopped Javi from the moment that ring went on your finger to play into just how badly he was ready to give you the family you deserved, making it very hard for the both of you to stick to your plan. 
“I know, I know.” He sighed contently, picking your arm up, draping it over his chest so he could play with the ring on your finger, delicately thumbing at the stone and gold band. “Knowing I get to spend the rest of my life with you is the only fucking Christmas present I’ll ever need for the rest of my life.” 
“You’re really trying to make your way back onto the Nice List, huh?” You giggled, biting down on your lip as you reached up to grab Javi’s face, giving it a little shake. “You’re all I’ll ever need, too, Javi.” A cheeky smirk spread across your face as you looked up at Javi, pressing a hot kiss against the skin of his neck before you spoke. “I gotta shower and clean this mess up, you wanna come with me and hang out on the Naughty List just a little bit longer?” 
“I’d take coal in my stocking any fucking day for you.” 
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Someway or another, you managed to make it through the last two days of school, bribing your class with more play time, recess, and movies than you’d like to admit. You and Javi were planning to spend the second half of your break with your family in Chicago, giving you two a few days to celebrate your first Christmas in Laredo together, now that you were on break. You had agreed to spend Christmas Eve celebrating with Chucho, the 3 of you gathering at the Peña ranch in the afternoon, offering to help Javi’s dad with chores around the farm since he had graciously given everyone else the day off to spend with their families. It took no convincing on your end to go out and help Javi feed the animals, one of your favorite chores on the farm, especially when it came to the cows. 
“I can’t believe how big they are.” You cooed, scratching one of the not so baby cows you had met for the first time a few months ago along its nose, giggling as it gave you a little lick. 
“They don’t stay little and cute for very long.” Javi chuckled, throwing the last bale of hay over the fence into one of the troughs, wiping his hands along his plaid shirt before resting his arm around your waist, standing next to you as you continued scratching and petting the rest of the cows that had gathered looking for attention. 
“Excuse you? They are still incredibly cute! Apologize to these sweet babies!” You gasped dramatically, holding your hand over your chest as you swatted at Javi. 
“Hermosa, they’re cows. They’re loud and annoying once they’re full grown, and last time I checked, I don’t think they can understand what I’m saying.” He laughed as you looked back at him with fake disgust, taking a step back, crossing your arms over your chest. Before you could argue back, one of the cows let out a long, loud mooooo, pointed in Javi’s direction, turning to look back at the cow before looking back at Javi. 
“I think that’s cow for fuck you, I am cute.” You smirked, giving Javi a little shrug as you nodded back at the cow. 
“Whatever, you dork.” Javi sighed, rolling his eyes at you as the two of you grabbed the rest of the feed buckets, heading back to the truck. 
The two of you finished your rounds and  you and Javi made your way back to the house to find Chucho humming away in the kitchen, chopping and dicing up vegetables to throw into his simmering pot of broth for the Pozole he had promised Javi for their Christmas Eve meal. 
“Chucho, do you think that cows are cute?” You questioned, kicking off your shoes at the door, Javi following behind, shaking his head. Chucho chuckled to himself, wiping his hands along his worn apron before picking up his wooden spoon to stir his stew. 
“Why are you asking?” He asked, looking over at you as you made your way into the kitchen, popping a leftover piece of pepper into your mouth, talking between chews. 
“Because your son doesn’t think they are, and had the audacity to tell the cows to their face they were, in fact, not cute.” You glared over at Javi, trying to hold back your laughter as you pretend to be stern. 
“They’re cute when they’re little but once you have to deal with them every day, full grown, they’re a pain in the ass.” Javi sighed, following behind you, sneaking between you and his dad to take down some bowls out of the cabinet, setting them on the table. 
“That is because Javier never pays attention when he walks through the pasture, and always ends up with a boot full of cow shit. I think they are cute, Mija. Not as cute as some other animals, or as cute as human babies…” He paused, raising an eyebrow at the two of you, smirking. “But yes, still cute.” 
“Told you so. You can’t blame the cows for your shit shoes, that’s on you, Jav.” You giggled, hitting him in the chest before grabbing spoons and napkins to set down next to the bowls Javi had placed. “Do you need help with anything else, Chucho? It smells delicious, I’m glad your cow bashing son requested it tonight.” 
“Cabrón (asshole).” Javi groaned. “Mamá would always make pozole and tamales for everyone on Christmas eve. She would put all of the cousins to work kneading the dough and assembling the tamales. She would hold the piñata hostage until we helped her finish, which I can’t blame her for. Her tamales were delicious, but I always think about having her pozole and eating a shit load of candy before crashing on the couch trying to stay up, waiting for Santa when I think about Christmas.” 
“Before Lucia died, every year we would host our whole family here for Christmas eve. Dios Mio, there must have been 30 crammed in here each year, singing and dancing, making more tamales than anyone could count. No matter how hard he tried, Javier would always be the first to fall asleep on the couch, and we would have to carry him to bed. I think he would get so excited he would wear himself out.” Chucho smiled, turning off the stove, bringing the pot of the pozole to the kitchen table, the two of you pulling out a chair to take a seat. 
“She sounds like she was such a fun lady. I wish I could have met her. And eaten her tamales, because I bet that they were amazing.” You beamed, looking over at Chucho and Javi, Javi now settling into the seat next to you, draping his arm over the back of your chair as Chucho stayed standing, letting out a content sigh as he placed a hand on his hip. 
“Well Mija, I was planning on giving your Christmas gift to you later, but now that you bring it up, now seems as good a time as any.” Chucho smirked, waddling his way over to the living room, as you and Javi glanced at each other in confusion, waiting for his return. A few moments later, Chucho was back, carrying a small, red package with a white ribbon wrapped around it, outstretching it towards you. 
“Chucho, you didn’t have to get me anything, I-” You protested, not accepting the gift until Chucho was sliding it across the table, placing it right in front of you. 
“It is a gift for both of you. I know that Lucia would have been so thrilled to know how happy you have made our Javier. How happy you have made both of our lives. She would have loved you so dearly, hija, and would have wanted you to have these as you and Javier start your own family.” Tears welled behind Chucho’s eyes as you carefully took the package in your hands, resting it between you and Javi as the both of you gently ripping away the wrapping paper and bow to reveal what was inside Chucho’s gift. You held a small, leather bound book between you two, Chucho gesturing to have you open it to see what was inside. As you flipped back the cover, you revealed the first page, a picture of a young Lucia in the very same kitchen the 3 of you found yourself in, smiling at the camera as she stirred a pot of something on the stove, apron tied around her waist. Below the photo were bold, shaky cursive letters, reading “Lucia’s Recipes.” 
“Pops…” Javi whispered in shock, delicately touching the page, gazing up at his dad.  
“Your mamá would have wanted you to have all of them. She always told me that she couldn’t wait for the day she could have a daughter to share all of her cooking secrets with. She would have been even more excited to share them with you Mija, knowing the wonderful woman that you are.” 
Carefully turning the page, you could feel your lip quiver as you looked at Chucho, feeling how watery your eyes were now becoming. “Chucho, this is- I don’t- thank you, Chucho. This is so special. I’m honored you want them to share them, I- I know how important these are to your family.” 
“You are family, hija.” Handing the book off to Javi, you pushed up out of your chair, making your way over to Chucho to wrap him in a tight hug, Chucho quickly reciprocating, squeezing you back.   
“Thank you, Chucho.” You whispered into his shoulder, trying your best to keep from sobbing as Javi pushed out of his chair, joining the both of you in a group hug, holding the two people he loved most in the world in his broad grasp. 
“Thanks, Pops.” 
“Los amo a los dos (I love you both).” Chucho sniffed, pulling away to wipe away the tears streaming down his cheeks. “Now, let’s eat this pozole, I can hear Lucia yelling at me for letting it start to go cold.” 
The 3 of you spent the rest of your night full of pozole, Javi finishing off at least 3 bowls as you talked at the kitchen table, sharing stories of your favorite holiday traditions and memories. Chucho broke out at least 4 different photo albums to share photos of Christmases past, filled with lots of ones of an adorable Javi and his bright, toothy grin as he opened up presents. Chucho was thrilled with the present you and Javi had gotten for him- a new work jacket for out on the ranch, Javi noting that he probably was still wearing the same jacket he did when Javi was first born. 
You and Javi had insisted that you let Chucho help you clean up around the kitchen after making you dinner, practically having to force him to sit down in his chair to relax while the two of you got to work collecting and cleaning dishes in the sink. You got to work washing as Javi dried, taking time to turn on the radio in the kitchen, raising the volume as he tuned in to the local station that had been playing nothing but Christmas music for the past week. “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas”  began playing from the speakers, immediately beginning to sing along, swaying your hips, scrubbing the last of the pots and pans. Javi snuck up behind you, snaking his hands around your waist, placing a soft kiss on your shoulder as his chest pressed against your back. 
“Dance with me.” He whispered, placing his hands on your hips to spin you around, making you giggle as your sponge splashed in the sink, playfully drying your wet hands against his flannel before interlacing one of your hands with his, the other one resting on his shoulder as he wrapped his free hand around the small of your back. The two of you gently swayed in the dim light of the kitchen, the soft sounds of Frank Sinatra’s voice humming in the background. 
Here we are as in olden days, happy golden days of yore. Faithful friends who are dear to us, gather near to us once more. 
As the sweet and syrupy melody of the song played on, Javi held up his hand, prompting you to spin under his outstretched arm before pulling you back in, resting his hand on your back, the other holding your face as he dipped you down, his lips curled in a tender grin against yours as he leaned in to kiss you. 
Through the years, we all will be together, if the fates allow. Hang a shining star upon the highest bough. And have yourself a merry little Christmas now.
“I love you, Osita.” 
“I love you more, you dork.” 
You rested your head on his chest, smiling into the worn fabric of his button up, soaking up the sweet simplicity of the moment- how right then and there, it felt like there was no one in the world but the two of you, slow dancing in Chucho’s kitchen, arms wrapped tight around the man you loved. It felt like holding everything you’d ever need. Everything you’d ever want.  It felt like holding your home. 
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 If there was one thing you were not, it was patient, especially when it came to waiting. You never had been, and at this point in your life, you were very much convinced you never would be. Ever since you could remember, you were always the first one up in your house on Christmas, frantically waking up your parents and brothers to let them know presents were stacked under the tree at an ungodly hour, forcing your parents to implement the “If you don’t stay in your bed until 6 A.M. you won’t get any of your presents” rule to try and save some ounce of their sanity for the chaos that ensued after the 4 of you were really wide awake. Even as an adult, you couldn’t help but wake up giddy on Christmas, feeling as bright eyed and bushy tailed as you did all those years ago as a kid. While Javi was very aware of your love for Christmas, he wasn’t aware of the fact that it meant that you would be wide awake, waiting for him to wake up this early in the morning. 
“Merry Christmas!” You squealed, trying your best to contain your excitement as you watched Javi finally begin to stir, his sleepy curls peeking out from under the covers, eyes squinting and blinking heavily as he let out a big yawn, draping his arm over your waist, half awake. 
“Good morning.” He grumbled, rubbing his hand over his face, practically still asleep.  “What time is it?” 
“6:45…” You replied, grimacing sheepishly, wincing at the early hours plastered on your alarm clock. “You can go back to sleep if you want to, sorry if I woke you up.” 
“6:45? Jesus, how long have you already been up for, Osita?” He sighed, propping himself up on his elbows, running his hands through the messy ends of his hair. 
“Not that long…” You muttered, looking away from him, hoping it would deter him interrogating further. Javi said nothing- he only cocked his head to the side and stared with that look he gave you when he knew you were hiding something, knowing damn well his tired, puppy dog eyes would pull the truth out of you. “Fine…” You huffed, turning back to him. “I’ve been up since 6.” 
“6 in the morning? Jesus Christ, hermosa.” Javi laughed to himself, shaking his head as he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you to lay against his bare chest. “I guess I can’t say I’m surprised. What the hell have you been doing since you got up?” 
“I made coffee, took a giant shit after I drank the coffee, turned on the lights to the Christmas tree, put Christmas music on in the living room, and then I came back to bed and I’ve been trying to read while I was waiting for you to wake up.” 
Javi could do nothing but let out an amused sigh as he pressed a long kiss into the top of your head. “You’re insane, you know that?” 
“You’re the one who proposed.” You sassed back, holding your ring in Javi’s face, a playful smirk growing across your face before giving him a little poke on his chest. His response to your witty remark was grabbing you by the waist, flipping you on top of him as he tickled your sides, pecking quick kisses along your body, making you flail and squirm as you erupted with giggles. “Let go, pendejo! You’re gonna end up with a black eye for Christmas if you don’t stop!” 
“I’d like to see you try.” He grinned, releasing you from his grasp, giving you a little shove. “Alright, well I’m fucking awake now.” Reaching his arms over his head, Javi let out another loud yawn. 
“I made you coffee.” You shrugged, trying to provide at least a little peace offering to him for your early morning wake up. 
“I’d fucking hope so.” The two of you laughed as you shuffled out of bed, Javi lazily throwing on a t-shirt and pajama pants before you both wandered out of the bedroom, you at a much quicker pace than Javi. 
As much as Javi wanted to give you a hard time about your over exaggerated enthusiasm this early in the morning, he couldn’t help but feel his heart flutter as he walked into the living room, seeing you sit curled up on the couch, clutching a mug of coffee, beaming at Javi as Christmas music played softly in the background, the walls dimly lit by the twinkling lights of tree, being hit with the realization that every Christmas for the rest of his life, would be a Christmas spent with you. 
“For you.” You smiled, holding out Javi’s mug, steam dancing off the top of the bitter brown liquid. “My family always opened presents before we did anything else, but if you have something else that your family always did, or you don’t want to, we can-” 
“Osita, I know you wanna open presents first, it’s okay.” Javi snickered, kissing your forehead before you shot up off the couch, running over to the tree to grab one of the several neatly wrapped boxes stacked beneath it. 
“Okay, thank God, I think I would have spontaneously combusted if I had to wait any longer to give you your gifts.” Hurrying back over to the couch, you placed your boxes on Javi’s lap, snuggling back up next to him as he began to tear away at the wrapping paper of the smallest package. 
“You don’t have any photos on your desk, so I figured I’d get you one. That way you can stare at my ugly mug all day long.” You joked, nodding toward the picture frame Javi was holding with a picture from your cousin’s wedding a few months back. 
“Shut up. Thank you, I do need more pictures of us in my office, and you look so hot in this picture.” He smirked, giving you a little nudge before picking up the next gift in your pile. “Thank you, Osita.” 
“Says the one who’s in the fucking tuxedo in that photo.” You rolled your eyes, watching Javi shake the wrapping paper off the next box. 
“Fuck, I’ve been needing new boots. Thank you, Osita, these are so nice.” Javi grinned, holding up the dark leather shoes, letting the bottom of the box drop to the floor. 
“I know you have, and you refuse to buy yourself new ones, so I figured I’d upgrade them for you.” You crossed your arms over your chest at Javi, wondering how he’d ever convince himself that he wasn’t just as stubborn as you. 
“Jesus, this is heavy.” He laughed, working away at the wrapping to reveal a plain, cardboard box, giving you a confused look. 
“It didn’t come in a box and I couldn’t wrap it how it was. I promise you your first gift isn’t a heavy cardboard box.” The two of you laughed as Javi tore the tape holding the top together, digging through the tissue paper, eyes going wide at the contents of the box. 
“Osita…” He warned, pulling out the bottle of his favorite Texas branded whisky he would only order for himself on nice occasions, knowing 1- how hard it was to find, and 2- that it was not cheap. 
“Don’t even try to start with me. It’s Christmas and I love you and you deserve all the nicest things in the world. I know how much you love this stuff, even though it tastes like pure gasoline, and that you would never buy it for yourself.” You smirked, grabbing under his chin, squeezing his cheeks. 
“Thank you, Osita. Where the hell did you find this stuff?” Javi looked at the bottle in disbelief, examining it before setting it carefully back on the ground. 
“Steve knew a guy.” You shrugged, only pausing for a moment before pushing yourself off the cushions, only to be stopped by Javi’s grasp around your wrist, pulling you back down. 
“These are all perfect, baby. Thank you so much. You're too good tot me. My turn.” Javi grinned, grunting as he got up off the couch, looking through the boxes to find the one he wanted, snatching it up and handing it over to you, immediately beginning to shed the box of its paper. “If you don’t- if you don’t like it or don’t want it, that’s okay, but I figured-” 
“Javi, I’m sure whatever it is, I’ll love it.” Taking a pause from your unwrapping, you reached over to give Javi’s knee a squeeze, smiling at him before shuffling the lid off the top of the long box. “Oh no way! Are you serious?!” You squealed, holding up the emerald green and black Dallas Stars hockey jersey. “Javi, what the fuck, this is so cool! Thank you!” You dropped the jersey in your lap, leaning over to give him a tight hug. 
“Thank god, I was worried you were gonna be pissed it wasn’t a Blackhawks jersey, but I think you already have 2 here, and like 3 more at your parents house, so I figured, you might like one for the Stars, too.” Javi sighed, relieved that his gift wasn’t about to stir up any unwanted hockey tensions. 
“I will wear it every game, except for when we play the Blackhawks- Then I will bury it deep in the closet.” You giggled, picking it back up to stare at it, oblivious to the fact that Javi had already gotten up again to get you another gift.
“These two go together.” He smiled, handing you over the much smaller box as you tilted your head in confusion. You quickly unwrapped the second box, a smaller version of the box for your jersey you had just opened. Still unsure of how something so tiny could go with your new jersey, you suspiciously lifted up the lid, your jaw dropping as you saw what was inside. “Holy fuck, Javi, are you serious?!” You gasped, pulling two tickets to the Dallas Stars vs. Chicago Blackhawks game, clutching them like you couldn’t believe they were real. Taking a second to actually read the ticket, your mouth gaped even further. “Jav, holy shit, these seats are-” 
“Against the glass.” Javi smirked, watching your eyes dart back and forth between the tickets and his smug grin. 
“But what about- how are we, wait- wouldn’t we have to-“ you mumbled to yourself, trying to process the gift while figuring out the logistics of getting to and from a night game in Dallas from Laredo. 
“I’ve got it all taken care of. The game is on Friday in February, the other 3rd grade teachers said they would do whatever to help you take that Friday off, our flight leaves at 2, we land in Dallas at 3:30, and I have a hotel booked for Friday and Saturday. Figured we could make a weekend of it.” 
“Javi- You can’t- Javi this is too much- baby, are you serious?” You whispered, breath shaky as you looked up at his beaming face, leaning in to kiss you. 
“I can, and I will. You deserve it. Merry Christmas, Osita. There’s one more thing.” He smirked, raising an eyebrow at you, grabbing one last present from under the tree and setting it in your lap. 
“Javier Peña, you do not need to get me anything else, I swear to God-” You protested, giving Javi a stern look as you stared at the present in your lap. 
“It’s not anything big, I saw it when I got the jersey and couldn’t help myself. Just open it, please?” He sighed, picking it up and bringing it even closer to you. 
“Okay, okay.” You shook your head, quickly tearing away the wrapping paper to reveal the box underneath. Lifting the lid, you dramatically rolled your eyes at Javi as you lifted up the red, lacy, lingerie that was tucked away in the tissue paper it had been delicately folded under. “This looks a lot more like a gift for you than a gift for me, Mr. Peña.” You laughed, giving Javi a playful nudge. 
“Well, if you put it on and let me unwrap you like the pretty little present you are, I’m sure I can find a way to make it a gift for the both of us.” Javi rasped, leaning over to nip at the exposed skin of your neck, making you let out a breathy moan, before coming to your senses, immediately darting up off the couch towards your bedroom. 
“Where the hell are you going?” Javi asked, laughing at you as you sped off, lingerie in your hands. 
“Changing so you can unwrap your last present!” You winked, wiggling the lacy outfit in the air before ducking into the bedroom. “Hey!” You shouted, your voice slightly muffled from behind the bedroom door, creaking it open to pop your head back out. 
“What, hermosa?” Javi laughed, awestruck smile glowing across his face as he stared at you. 
“I love you, Javier Peña. Merry Christmas.” 
“Merry Christmas, Osita. I love you more.”
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Taglist: @cool-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo @endlessthxxghts @blackfemalenerd @deppydelta @beware-my-thorns
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thatone-brightstar · 1 year
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The Bear & The Fox (Carmy Berzatto x Fem!Reader)
Chapter 3: Pin a Fox skin to the wall, call it decoration
Words: 4.9k
Summary: With a few drinks in, you both confess your feelings. But there's always something getting in the way.
a/n: I am the gift that keeps on giving! So here's the next chapter cuz I feel shitty just leaving it in my documents and you all have been so nice! Enjoy! xx
P.S. Reader is Latina in this, so there's gonna be melanin for daysss.
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“How much longer do you think you're gonna be?!” Syd yelled at her phone through the noisy bar.
Everyone was on a different wave of conversation, ranging from sports to food to whatever new show they were hooked on. The buzz of chatter around them combined with the pulsing music and lack of food in his system was enough to create a growing migraine in Carmy’s head. He gladly took a swig of the beer in front of him to dumb out the increasing sensation as he waited for Syd to hang up on you. He thought their reaction to joining them would be one of distaste or discomfort but his first drink had been on Sweeps, who was glad to finally see him outside the perimeters of The Beef. 
“I like what you’ve done to the place.” He said after finishing the second beer. “But you gotta lighten up, man. Rome wasn’t built in a day. Also you could use a tan. Try going out in the sun every once in a while!” He joked and a genuine laugh had left Carmy’s lips for the first time in forever.
“She’s on her way!” Sydney yelled to the table and everyone acknowledged it before returning to their conversations.
“Does she know I’m here?” He asked her over the noise, a bit concerned whether he wanted to know the answer or not.
“Yeah! I told her we’re all here!” She answered and of course she would tell you, because as far as they were concerned, nothing out of the ordinary had happened between you two.
His hand began to grow clammy and he took another hefty swig of the amber liquid to try and calm the nerves down. At least the music was loud enough to drown out the sound of his thoughts, he'd have to make due with that for now. The chatter transitioned into anecdotes about the stupidest things they had done as teens and they spent the next ten minutes debating whether Angel stealing single batteries from the family packs at Walmart counted as kleptomania or not. By his third beer, he felt his shoulders lose a bit of the perpetual weight that had been sitting on them since he had arrived back in Chicago; the music felt more bearable, his laughs lighter and his nerves almost down to a hum. 
They had been lucky enough to get a booth table by the windows, the sight of River North’s night life was in full bloom behind the old stained glass and his eyes wandered to the new perspective he had been granted of the old neighborhood. Between neon signs and moving cars he saw you from afar. Standing patiently for the little human to move on the crosswalk light. You looked like a radiant ray of moonlight, with loose curls framing your face like a dark halo and even though he had found you absolutely beautiful with your paint splattered overalls, this was something entirely different, something that would have him losing his balance if he wasn’t already sitting down.
He watched you move your boot-covered feet closer towards the bar, and with each stride on the long skirt, the slit up your thigh revealed a glimpse of lovely tan skin with swirling designs he had known no existence of until then, but now wanted to discover more of. Golden rings contrasted against the black jacket covering your arms as you raked your fingers through your hair and turned towards the window where he had shamelessly been gawking at you. A small smile covered your previous serious features and you waved nervously before disappearing through the entrance.
He shuffled in his seat and wished he would have at least run some water through his hair before leaving, but looking around at everyone’s post work attire, he figured he’d be fine. A cheer of ‘Hey's was heard through the group as you approached the table and you made a little dance once you reached them. You scooted into the booth beside the edge by Carmy and threw a nervous smile in his direction.
“Sorry I’m late! Two fuckin Ubers canceled on my last minute. I swear I was about to start walking!” You yelled exasperated.
“Well you’re already two drinks behind so start catchin’ up!” Marcus said, calling the waiter over and ordering another round of beers and a double  shot of tequila for each one.
“Oh it’s gonna be like that then, huh?!” You asked him with raised brows and a smile.
“Uhh, yeah!” He mimicked you in a pitched valley girl accent and the table roared in laughter.
They went around talking about their day and how Richie, as he does, had death threatened Fak for suggesting he should go to anger management classes. Your shoulder rubbed alongside Carmy’s in the small booth as you laughed at their stories and the friction along with your delicate perfume was making it hard to concentrate on anything at all. He took a couple of fries from the dish at the center of the table to keep his mouth occupied as he listened to Syd and you argue about the best contestant in a new baking show you were both watching. 
The shots came with cheers, and as everyone took the small glass in one hand and a lemon wedge in the other, they went around the table to say something they cheered for,
“I’m thankful that I got tomorrow off so I can get as hammered as I want!” Cheered Sweeps and it was followed by a choir of Boo’s from everyone.
“I guess I'm thankful that I got a job that I actually like.” Marcus continued and the Boo’s turned to Aw’s.
“And I’m very thankful for you, bunch of idiots.” You finished shily and only Marcus, who was sitting across from you, noticed your eyes linger a little too long on Carmy.
Their little glasses clinged against one another and everyone downed the transparent liquid with a scrunched face. 
The conversations broke into groups again, and he took his shot at catching your attention before anyone else. He gently bumped his shoulder against yours while he took a sip of alcohol for courage. From his side view he saw you had turned up to look at him and noticed you swallow hard scanning his features. When he turned to you, a soft smile covered your face and it was hard not to smile back.
“Hey” You whispered, bumping your shoulder back to his softly.
“You..um, you look really nice.” He said leaning towards you so you could hear him better above the music, and also so no one else would  notice his words. 
His breath ghosted over the skin of your ear and you were thankful for the jacket covering your already bumpy skin.  
“Thank you.” You whispered, cheeks warm.
“Look, I’m sor-“ 
“I’m sorry for-“
You interrupted each other, then laughed waiting for the other to continue. 
“You go.” You insisted.
He breathed in deep and turned his torso towards you to give himself a false sense of privacy in the crowded space. “I’m really sorry If I made you feel uncomfortable… back at the office.” He started and his eyes jumped between yours trying to decipher your thoughts through your expressions. “That was not cool and kinda creepy and I don’t want you to go because of me-”
“Wait-”
“You’re a great addition to the team, honestly one of the best, you’re good at calming Richie when he gets stressed and you're fast and precise, and you're good for me too-” He kept rambling, his gaze now focused in his hands.
“Carmy-” You tried to interrupt again with no avail.
“And I’d hate for you to leave cause I’m an impulsive jackass and I wouldn’t know what to do if I.. couldn’t see you.. anymore.” He finished swallowing hard, his eyes dragged slowly from his hands to your features and he grew scared of the confession that had left his mouth under the rambling.
All his words separately meant something different, they meant a thank you, a praise, a gentle pat on the back. But not like this, not all together, jumbled and tied with a string of revelation that there might be something more than what he was saying. He saw your chest raise with the motion of a heavy breath and your eyebrows were scrunched in concentration over his face. The background noise had been covered over by the thumping of blood rushing to his head and for a second his heart stopped at the idea that he had dug himself a deeper grave than he had wished for. He stared back at your eyes unable to look away, the ‘Fuck it’ from a couple hours ago now sour on his tongue.
“Do you wanna talk outside?” You whispered leaning forward so he could hear you, brows still knotted together.
You didn’t wait for his answer as you reached down to his tightly clasped hands and wedged your fingers carefully to get them to separate. You held on tightly then began to slip out the booth telling everyone you were gonna get more drinks for the table, before getting lost in the sea of bodies standing around. He let you guide him through the free spaces between the swaying crowd of drunks as he did his best to calm the growing anxiety in his chest. All he could concentrate on were your delicate fingers brushing softly around his hand.
This is what he wanted, right? This is why he had come knowing you would be here, to tell you how he felt, to clear things up, and since the cat’s head was already out the bag, might as well let the rest of the body out. 
‘Let it rip’ his brother’s words danced in his mind and he smiled humorlessly at how they teased him with how easy it sounded to do so.
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Fuuuck. You had not planned this far ahead. At least not this early into the night. You expected to do this with maybe another three drinks in your system, when you could still hold a serious conversation without crying for getting rejected cause the voice in your head would slur that it was his loss and that you were still a bad bitch. It also didn’t help that you had smoked a bit while getting ready and the cloudy haze around your brain had not subsided. You were coherent, yes, which was important, however you were not very good with your self control and with the way your throat had closed up at the sight of his profile while he simply took a drink, god you knew this was gonna be hard. 
His confession still swam in the swampy waters of your foggy brain as you pulled both of you through the crowded space. Your hand was tightly wrapped around what you could hold of his and when you finally spotted an exit, your heart leaped in your chest at the idea of how the conversation would go. The emergency door stood tall between the bathroom entrances, an inaudible creek vibrated through the metal as you pushed yourself against it and a cold breeze of air welcomed your face when you both stepped out into the alley. You expected a few smokers to linger around, but then again many who did choose to smoke did it in front of the place, not the side alley like rats; so you were alone. Great.
You finally let go of his hand, a cold absence replacing it, then leaned against the wall in front of the metal exit, staring at him. He took a cigarette from the packet inside his jacket and lit it, mimicking your actions by the door. He took a couple calming drags while both of you thought about what you were gonna say next. 
You could play this two ways: One. Pretend like you hadn’t understood what he said at the booth and say the whole office thing had been a misunderstanding. A little gaslighting wouldn’t hurt, right? It was for your own good anyway, the both of you. The pessimist in you was sure Carmen didn’t know what he was getting into and he already had enough problems trying to get the restaurant off the ground to add yours to the mix. 
And two, Tell him how you felt, fuck the rule. You had known him long enough to know he wasn’t the type of guy you established the rule for in the first place. He was nothing similar to the mutherfuckers you had met in your other jobs, he was nice and patient and cared more about others than he liked to admit; and for fuck’s sake if the bar was already on the floor, finding someone like that and also have him be hot, was not a common occurrence. 
You took your eyes off your boots scraping the pavement to look at him. ‘Why is he so hot and so miserable?!’ you thought as you watched him with his cigarette, the gloss in your eyes making any source of light into twinkling stars. His eyes met yours and normally you would avert your gaze. Normally, however, you would not be in this situation and normally you would not be feeling this angry all of a sudden. 
“You thought I was gonna leave?” You asked. ‘Solid start’.
“I thought I freaked you out.” He shrugged. “You walked out on me.”
“Yeah, and how did you expect me to react?” You respond a little more defensive than you intended. 
“Look, I know it was fucked and I’m sorry, okay? I just-” He took another drag to calm himself down then looked back at you, ocean eyes harboring a storm. “I don’t know what happens to me… when you're around. You make my chest not hurt as much and I- It feels easier to breathe with you.” 
You stayed silent, staring at him through hooded eyes and heavy breaths, trying to keep your mind clear because how could you concentrate on anything when he spoke so sweetly about you? You had to keep reminding yourself that this was for the best. Around you, the low rumble of the music vibrating past the walls could still be heard, like a distant world existing outside your current bubble of angst.
“Wh-what did you mean?” He asked after a long silence and he noticed the confusion in your blank stare. “When you said you needed to get me out your system, what was that?” 
Carmy noticed the subtle change in your expression, how your shoulders tensed and you diverted your gaze to anything else but him. You wanted to shout that it meant exactly that, he was so deep in your thoughts that some days you had caught yourself shamelessly daydreaming about the two of you together, in any way possible. But the last rational part in your brain held your tongue from speaking, you couldn’t say it, there was too much at risk to do so and he was not helping with the way his words were making your chest swell. You were getting angry because this would be so much easier if he was just another asshole. 
You shrugged looking at him. “Nothing, i-it just came out.” ‘Gaslighting it is.’ 
He exhaled a humorless laugh, his eyes still trained on you. “You’re a shitty liar, you know that?” He said with a last drag of his cig before flicking it to the ground and stomping on it.
He raked a hand through his hair and shameful observation had taught you that this meant Carmy was getting stressed.
“Okay, fine! You wanna know?!” You finally spat with anger, “Because I fuckin’ like you, Carmen!” You raised your arms in exasperation. “Because you have no fuckin’ idea what it does to me when you look at me like-like that!” His gaze was fixated on you, head slightly tilted down and to the right, jaw tensed. His brows dropped lower in a scowl and a jolt of lightning traveled down your back at his expression.
“And why didn’t you say anything!” He yelled back.
“Oh, seriously?! What did you want me to say? I need two roast beef sandwiches, hold the peppers and FYI Carmy, I got a crush on you?!”
“How the fuck was I supposed to know then?!” He said in frustration, taking a step closer to you and the height difference was significantly more noticeable when he wasn’t shrinking into himself.
“You weren’t supposed to, that’s the fuckin’ point!” His shoulders fell slightly and the strength in your voice lowered. “I just... needed to get over you and you’d never know. Get you out my system with someone else and never have to mention it.”
Carmy tried to ignore the flashes of your rosy cheeks and short breaths, panting under someone else. ‘This is not the time.’ he reminded himself.
“So, what? You were just gonna leave me believing I did somethin’ wrong to you when you actually liked me?”
“I wasn’t gonna leave.” You whispered. The words get caught on your tongue and you take a deep breath before continuing.
“But the last time I liked someone at my job it… It didn’t turn out right.” You struggle to calm your racing thoughts, his eyes a distracting lighthouse guiding you back in. His brows knitted together. “I don’t wanna go through that again, Carmy” You said defeated.
“You don’t know if it’s gonna be the same.” His voice pleaded just above a whisper, lower than you were used to when it came to him or his cousin.
“I don’t think I can risk it.” You whispered back, doing your best to keep the tears under control.
You were both silent for a while, until Carmy began to shake his head slowly.
“No, no, no you don’t get to do that, okay? You don’t get to tell me you like me then immediately blow me off cause some asshole in the past hurt you.” He took the last two strides in your direction, his chest now so close you could feel the heat radiating from his body.
You pushed yourself against the wall from the sudden proximity. Your breath seized in your lungs as you felt both his hands cup the sides of your face and tilt it up to stare deep into the pits of your eyes. You swallowed hard at all the scenarios flashing through your head, the turn of events giving you whiplash. He lowered his forehead slowly to yours, your eyelashes fluttered trying to close, but your eyes were fixed on his. Carmy’s face was so close, you could feel the heat off his breath. The smell of tobacco that lingered around you and mixed with the smokey wood scent that seemed to cling to him after a long workday, had your head grasping onto the last threads of self control left in  you.
“Tell me to stop. Tell me to stop and I’ll do it, I’ll never touch you again or mention it, I promise.” He rambled, a soft desperation clear in his voice. “I won’t even look in your direction but please, please don’t ever think for a second that I would do anything to hurt you.” He whispered.
Even in the darkness of the alley, you could tell his irises had swallowed the last drop of blue, now so dark and glossy you could see your own despair reflected back to you. You swallowed hard to get rid of the cottonmouth and his eyes flickered towards your lips for less than a second. ‘God, why couldn’t you just say yes?!’ Your head screamed at you through the dissipating smog of weed and untampered emotions.
He had not only given you his heart on a golden platter, but had plated it himself and set the table for you, too. Now it was solely your decision if you wanted to take it or not, if you wanted to guard his heart next to yours for safekeeping or let it finish crumbling on the grime covered pavement. You stared at his features in contemplation and scanned your brain for all the ways it told you this could go wrong. And yet, even after a thousand scenarios came up, you held in protective arms the few ones that bloomed a warm excitement in your chest. You wanted to, even if it was just this once, to be fearless, jump into the unknown regardless of the outcome. You truly did.
“It’s not that easy.” You whispered, shutting your eyes to avoid the look of hurt haunting over his. His hands faltered their grip on your face and soon a cold rush of air replaced the warm contact.
You reopened your gaze to see him standing with his hands now resting on the brick beside your head, defeated. His stare was glued to his tattooed skin, not even daring to look directly at you anymore and you knew, he was withdrawing back to the depths of his mind where one goes when you’ve been completely shattered. You could see his jaw tense up, probably in anger and he was well in his right to be so. He had bared his feelings to you and you had massacred them all over the walls in less than five words. ‘It’s better like this.’ You tried to convince yourself.
“I’m so sorry Carmy, but I-I can’t-”
He cleared his throat then pushed himself back with enough force that it almost felt like he had pulled on an invisible string against your chest.
“No- uh, no I get it.” he sniffled “You’re right, it’s better this way.” He did his best to avoid your gaze, settling it on anything around the empty alley. “I’m gonna go buy the drinks and then head home.”  He said walking back to the door.
You watched still from your position by the wall how he reached for the handle pulling the metal open. An immediate rumble of bass surrounded the once empty area as Carmy walked halfway in then stopped. He slightly turned his head in your direction, eyeing you over his shoulder.
“Don’t-uh.. don’t worry about.. this.” He said to you over the music. “I meant what I said about not sayin’ anythin’.” He rose his head to the sky for a couple seconds then back down. “So, don’t worry about it.” The gravel under his feet groaned as he turned to look at you one last time, “See you at work, chef.”
He was gone with a slam of the door. You stayed motionless, fixated on the space his body had occupied only seconds before. The ghost of his touch still tingled on your face and it took you an unspeakable amount of strength to not break down for the second time that day. It was already atrocious enough that you had committed what was probably the second worst mistake of your life by letting him go, but if you let yourself fall apart in a dingy unlit back alley of some bar, you have truly found a point lower than you thought possible. So with a very, very shaky breath and with the vast expertise as a teen with an overprotective mother, you pulled yourself together, sniffled back the tears and made your way inside ready to pretend like the last fifteen minutes had never happened.
When you reached the booth with your friends, a tray of five shots sat untouched on the table and a sour taste invaded your mouth to see the sixth had been downed and turned upside down at the end of the tray. 
“Carmy said your mom called, is everything okay?” Sydney asked as soon as you were in earshot, the pit in your stomach grew again  because even after hurting him, he still considerate enough to cover for your absence.
“Uh… yeah she’s fine. Just wanted to know when I’d be back.” You lied as you slid back into the booth.
With no hesitation, you reached for one of the glasses and downed it straight, no lemon. Syd gave a confused look to your expressionless face and even reached for one of the glasses to prove it was actually alcohol when you were laughing at Angel and Macus’ arm wrestling.
The liquid burned a distracting path down your throat and kept your attention diverted enough from the emotions you knew you’d have to figure out when the fog had lifted. For now, at least you would allow yourself to play with the idea that everything was fine and that your chest wasn’t shattering with every whiff of his lingering scent that permeated on your jacket.
The rest of the night was a blur of strawberry daiquiris, tequila shots, terrible karaoke and the guys competing over who could throw the furthest a traffic cone they found off the side of the road while walking you and Syd home, at almost four in the morning. They had dropped you off with a chorus of slurred ‘bye byess’ and kept walking in the direction of “Adventure” as Sweeps had called it. On your way up, the usual still stairs had become a workout to climb and Syd had almost landed on her ass on the second and third floor, before tripping on the forth and sliding belly first down half the flight of stairs. You did your best to contain the laughter after seeing her reaction to finally landing with nothing but a bruised chin and ego, but her surprised face was enough to have you slumping on the last step and heaving with tears in your eyes. After you both caught your breath, you reached towards her and held her hand until you were in the safety of your room.
You giggled drunk while changing into your pajamas and turned to Sydney, telling her about your foolproof plan of going home with a stranger to get Carmy out of your head.
“I don’t get it.. why not jus’ like, bang Carmy, right? And get it over with?” She said between hiccups as you both climbed into your bed.
“It’s jus’ not the same!” You whined, turning off the light. “He’s too good for that.” You heard Syd groan beside you and you’re glad the lights were off so she couldn’t see you rolling your eyes at her. “He is!”
You shimmied under the covers and stared at the glow in the dark stickers on your ceiling, the alcohol making them swim around the blank canvas like shooting stars.
“He’s sweet and kind and… funny in like a fucked up, kinda tragic way..” you giggle “and he’s so fuckin’ hot, Sydney! So hot! Every time he looks at me with those eyes I want him to bend me over the expo an-“ you feel a soft smack against your face and the plushness of the pillow drowns out your laughs. 
Syd groaned in disgust at the image you planted in her head “Dude gross! Why would I ever need to know that?!” She said taking the pillow back from you. 
You giggled again and turned to Syd’s silhouette, softly combing back the braids that rested on her shoulder to distract yourself. “I think I really fucked up tonight, Syddy.” You finally admitted in the darkness of your safe space and heavily intoxicated. 
Sydney hummed in question and you knew you only had a few moments of clarity before falling unconscious. You took the end of one of her braids and used it to tickle under her nose to keep her awake a little longer while you failed to understand the many emotions in your head.
“I think he hates me now.” You said softly, a small tear sliding out your eye and quickly disappearing into the soft fabric of your pillow.
She scratched at her nose in frustration then slightly slapped her palm against your forehead. You laughed softly but continued to bug her.
“He could never hate you, he loves you too much.” She mumbled carelessly, readjusting herself and swinging a leg up on your hip under the duvet.
Your cheeks felt warm at the idea of love and even though you knew it was too soon to call it that, you couldn’t avoid the fuzzy feeling the word brought to your insides. ‘Oh to be loved’ you thought ‘and by Carmy of all people’. 
“You can’t know that.” You said with a sniffle, caressing the tip of her braid now on your own nose. You liked how it tickled.
Syd sighed before lifting her head as best she could in her drunk and half asleep state and slurred your name “Please, that man has been tripping-over-his-feet in love with you since day one.” She paused to pull her hair from your hands and adjust the pillow under her. “You two are the only idiots who haven’t noticed.” Then laid her head back down with a soft smack.
A new sensation filled your chest, one you hadn’t really given a name to before because there hadn’t been a reason to. It was a warmth that spread from the crown of your head down to the tips of all your extremities as your friend’s words floated in your head. A slow smile extended across your face and with the last waves of consciousness you decided to put an end to all the doubt and talk to him tomorrow, the stupid rule be damned. 
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Capter 4.
Taglist: @pearlstiare and that’s it lmao
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familyvideostevie · 8 months
Text
october first
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day one: steve harrington after the events of august, steve and bee girl (you) wake up in your new house | no good at waiting one-shot, fluff | 1.1k
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You wake up with a shiver. The morning sun bathes one wall of your bedroom in pink light. Your sheer curtains flutter in the wind and you snuggle deeper into your bed, tugging on the covers.
“Hey!” someone next to you grumbles. “S’cold in here, give it back.”
Steve tugs on the duvet but you don’t relinquish your hold, instead rolling with it until you’re pressed against his back.
“I know,” you mumble, eyes fluttering. Your bedroom isn’t really decorated yet but you’ve got the basics. Mattress, bed frame, dresser. Mismatched bedside tables you found at an antique sale two towns over and a rug Joyce gave you from the Byers garage. The rest of the house is coming together slowly. You have yet to get a dining table but you do have a couch and lots of kitchen utensils. Bob gave you an old bookshelf and the kids pooled money together to buy you a welcome mat. The good people of Hawkins have treated you and Steve moving into the little farmhouse as an invitation to get rid of all of their junk.
You love it.
Steve groans and shifts, releasing the duvet and turning so that he’s facing you, nose to nose. You can barely see the eyes you love so much through his lashes. “Morning,” he says. “We’re going to have to buy more blankets if you’re going to steal them every morning.”
“You’re the one who left the window open last night,” you remind him. He scoots even closer to you and shoves his face into your neck.
“Because you like fall air,” he says. His lips are warm on your skin. “Never say I don’t do anything for you.”
Living with Steve is pretty much a dream. Even when he leaves his shoes in the way, even when he doesn’t clean his toothpaste from the sink. Even when you forget to do the dishes or don’t put your laundry away. It’s fun. It’s like every day is a dream come true.
“No one says that,” you laugh. You twine your fingers in his hair. “Especially not me.”
Steve makes a pleased sound. “What are we doing today?” he asks. The last two months have been nonstop. Finishing the house, finding furniture, moving out of Bob’s for you and the farm loft for him. You haven’t had time for a proper housewarming yet.
“Nothing,” you say. He pulls back to look at you, eyebrows raised.
“Really?”
“Really.”
“Hell yeah,” he says, running the pad of his finger over your top lip. “Finally a day off we don’t have to spend running around town.”
“We have to go see about that table tomorrow, though. After work.”
Steve flops back on his pillow. “It never ends,” he says.
“Nope,” you say, popping the p. “But it’ll be worth it.”
“Well, duh.” He raises his arms above his head and stretches. “We need a table so we can play beer pong at our housewarming.”
“And so we can eat at it, Steve.”
He smirks. “Oh, yeah. That too. And so we can do all sorts of nasty things on it—”
You place your hand over his mouth. “That’s enough from you, Harrington.” He licks your palm but you don’t pull it away. “Behave.”
His expression morphs into what you think he thinks are puppy dog eyes but really he just looks like he ate something sour unexpectedly. He mumbles against your hand and you remove it. “Christ, honey,” he says. “I was gonna suffocate.”
“What a way to go,” you deadpan. He laughs and turns away from you, throwing his legs over the edge of the bed and stretching again. You admire the freckled expanse of his bare back.
“You hungry?” he asks. “We could do pancakes.” He stands and wanders to the closet where he pulls out two sweatshirts. One he throws to you and the other he drags over his head.
“When we get a dog are you going to make it breakfast, too?”
Steve’s head pops out of the hoodie — one of yours, you’re pretty sure — and scoffs. “You think you’re funny with this dog-dad shit,” he says. “You watch. I’m going to be so normal. Nothing like Dustin’s mom and their cat. Nothing.”
“Sure, Steve,” you coo. You sit up in bed and pull on your own sweatshirt, borderline giddy with the sheer serenity of the morning.
Here you are, in your home with the person you love most in the world, talking about getting a dog.
This time last year you weren’t even friends yet. You remind him.
Steve snorts and crosses his arms, leaning on the dresser. “I was half in love with you already.”
“Was not,” you gasp. “We’d only been mean to each other!” You hadn’t really liked Steve until you both sat soaking wet in your car. You’d been curious about him before that. Interested. A little obsessed. But it warms you from head to toe to know you’d had him captivated from moment one.
He grins his most boyish grin, the one he usually sends you before he’s about to do something that will make your face hot. “Exactly. I had a dream about you the first day we met.”
“Really?”
He nods and rubs the back of his neck like he’s suddenly embarrassed. “Yeah,” he says. “I don’t think I told anyone, though.”
“What was it about?”
Yeah, he’s totally blushing. “Uh.” he says. “It wasn’t anything big. Just you buying apples from me, I think.”
You can’t help it. You laugh. You laugh so hard your stomach aches. “Oh my god, Steve,” you gasp. “I told you to fuck off and you had a dream about me.” You’ve almost been together a whole year and he still surprises you. You hope it’s going to be like this for the rest of your lives.
He’s scowling. “Yeah, whatever.” Even as he grumbles he makes his way back to the bed and sits on the edge of it. He puts his hand on your leg through the duvet and squeezes gently. “Okay, funny girl, do you want apples or chocolate chips?”
“I’ll help,” you say. “Both, obviously.”
“But first…” Steve says, leaning in. Your eyes flutter shut and he pauses a breath away from your lips. “Your breath stinks,” he whispers.
“Speak for yourself,” you whisper back. He snickers and then leans in, hand framing your face. His lips are a little chapped but his kiss is as sweet as always, tender and loving. He kisses you once, twice, then trails his lips along your cheek.
“Morning,” he says, as if you’d just woken up. “Love you, bee girl.”
You sigh with happiness. “Love you back.”
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thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, general masterlist here! promptober masterlist, find all fics under #fvspromptober23
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