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spencereidluver · 4 months ago

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M is for Merry Christmas

december 22, 2008

summary: It is the annual Christmas party hosted by Penelope at the BAU, you get a little too drunk- and in turn- a little too handsy with your shy boyfriend. He decides it's time to take you home, where he takes care of you as you sober up and deal with your hangover.

word count: 3.3k

warnings: drunk!reader, mentions of vomit and a somewhat descriptive scene of reader doing so, somewhat caregiver!spencer but not really (reader is hungover and he is just very sweet and caring) there is also sort of a brief one sided angst where reader thinks spencer is upset with them

“Watch where you’re flinging them arms sweetheart, I’ve got papers on my desk,” Derek laughs as you very ungracefully kneel to the floor next to his desk chair. Spencer was sat in Derek’s chair, calmly taking in the atmosphere.

“Well maybe if you did your paperwork faster you wouldn’t have to worry,” you teased, earning a laugh from your team which filled the bullpen of the BAU.

It was the annual Christmas Party at the BAU headquarters, a tradition that started when Penelope joined the team. The team didn’t often take cases over Christmas, unless they were urgent, and this year was one of those when you had the holiday off. Penelope stocked the party with plenty of goodies, and you’ll be the first to admit, maybe you got a little too carried away with the alcohol that she had provided. But in your defense, you rarely drank. This job didn’t allow for it often. And now that you had the chance, why not take it?

You were playing with the hem of Spencer’s charcoal gray slacks, the slacks that came up just a little too high on his lanky figure. It wasn’t too obvious when he was standing, but now that he was lounged in a chair, it was blatantly obvious his pants were a good three or four inches too short.

Emily approaches you, handing you a glass. “Another drink, Y/N?” She asks. You take the drink.

“Are you purposely trying to get her drunk?” Spencer questions. He reaches down to entangle his fingers in your hair.

“Babe, ‘m not drunk!” You protest. You’re lying.

Your words linger around Spencer’s head. Babe. You’d called him pet names before, but never so casual-like, and never had you in front of your coworkers.

You hide your giggle into Spencer’s leg. Nothing funny happened, but you felt like laughing. You knew you were drunk. But you were having fun. You took a sip from the glass Emily had just given you.

“Y/N, you’re laughing at nothing! You can’t tell me you’re not drunk,” Spencer chuckles at you. He finds humor in your attempts to convince him and a group of profilers you weren’t wasted.

“Hey hey hey, Pretty Boy, she’s having fun, don’t rain on her parade,” Derek says.

“Yeah, Prett’boy, don’t rain on my p’rade,” you say, mocking Derek and Spencer simultaneously. You take another sip from your cup before reaching your arm up and offering it to Spencer. “Drink?”

“No, thanks,” he says, shaking his head. You shrug before chugging the rest of the cup.

Penelope Emergers from her office, carrying a tray down the stairs. “Guess Whatttt?” She says in a sing-song voice. She rounds the corner and extends the tray out for the team to have access. “I brought shottts!”

You practically jump from your position on the floor, leaving Spencer in Derek’s chair and rushing to Penelope, well, more like the tray of drinks she was holding.

You, Emily, and Derek surround the shot tray while Hotch and Rossi were sat observing and eating crackers from two other desks in the bullpen. With three taps of his glass on the tray, you Emily and Derek have a mouthful of vodka. There are three remaining glasses of clear liquid remaining.

Derek takes a step away to open the view of the tray up. “Hey, do any of you guys want these?” He shouts. He was on the verge of being drunk, starting to lose control of the volume of his voice.

“No, I’m not a big vodka drinker,” Spencer says, swiveling gently left and right in Derek’s chair. He’s not drunk, but he may be having the most fun of anyone while he’s playing in the rolly chair.

Hotch and Rossi share a glance at each other, before Hotch speaks up. “No, you three go ahead, you seem to be enjoying yourself.”

Derek closes in the gap he’d opened, grabbing another shot glass. You and Emily follow his lead, waiting for his three taps. Your mouth burns as the liquor fills it, you’re quick to swallow before taking a sip of water as a chaser. You smack your lips, giving a three-way high-five to Emily and Derek.

“Those are my girls,” Derek says as he pulls you and Emily into a group ‘bro hug.’

You leave the tupperware party that had formed around Penelope, walking toward Spencer, who was still spinning in the chair.

“Hey,” you say as you approach him. You grab onto his tie, leaning forward and resting your free hand on his thigh to be face-level with him.

“H-hi, Y/n,” he chokes out, the position you’re in having made him a bit flustered. You lean in to kiss him, but your drunkenness causes you to stumble and miss his lips, leaving a big sloppy kiss on his chin. You let yourself fall into Spencer’s lap, situating yourself on his upper thigh and letting your legs fall over his lap. He wraps one arm around your waist, the other drapes over your shins and his hand holds your calf. He shoots you a worried look. “How much have you drank?”

You giggle, letting one of your hands reach around his back to fluff his hair. “Not that much,” you lie to him.

“Y/n.” His voice is slightly stern. You begin to fiddle with the buttons on his shirt with your free hand.

“‘m fine, baby, I promise,” you say, leaning into his shoulder. He jumps slightly as the word ‘baby’ falls past your lips. He can’t help but let the smile he’s forming peek through a tiny bit. Still playing with the buttons, you manage to pop the top two open with just your fingers. You let your fingers slip beneath the fabric of his shirt and begin to trace little shapes on his bare chest. He shivers into your touch, but tries his best to hide it.

His grip tightens a bit on your waist, fingers digging into your ribs slightly, causing you to squirm against his lap.

“I’ve got one more round of shots for three of my favorite agents!” Penelope says as she returns from her cave once again. You look to Spencer, almost as if asking permission, before standing up and stumbling to Penelope. She was only a few feet away, but your footing was sloppy.

You, Derek, and Emily grab the shot glasses, doing a “cheers” before pouring the liquid down your throats. Emily brings hers down with a “wooo!” sound. You and Emily sip down your chasers afterwards, but Derek has drank all his. His cup was empty.

“Hey sweetheart,” Derek says, raising his eyebrows at you, “Go grab that waterbottle off my desk, would’ya?”

You nod at him as you once again stumble over to his desk. This time, you make your way behind the chair Spencer’s sat in, grabbing the plastic waterbottle from the corner of the desk. “Catch,” you say, throwing the bottle directly into Derek’s hand.

“Damn, girl, the NFL should’ve drafted you, not the FBI,” Emily jokes.

You turn around, leaning over the back of Derek’s chair to rest your hands on the shoulders of Spencer. You’re starting to really feel the alcohol now, your head was swirling. Spencer reaches his hand up and grabs yours, running his thumb over the back of it. You let your other hand fall downwards, grazing over his few inches of bare chest that was still exposed from the open buttons. He gently squeezed your hand. You lean down, burying your face in the crook of his neck, planting soft kisses, and letting your hands chase further down his clothed torso.

Spencer clears his throat. “Alright,” he says, standing up and sliding the chair out of the way. “It’s time I get this one home.” He grabs the small of your waist, hoisting you up and throwing you over his shoulder without so much as a grunt. Gasps were heard around the room.

“Reid, you’ve been holding out on us. If I’d have known you could lift people like that so easily I’d be sending you on tacticals instead of Morgan.” Hotch said, half joking, but still with the serious undertone he always has with his jokes.

“Damn,” Derek gasps. “Look at those muscles.”

“Oh be serious, it’s just Y/n. She’s statistically much smaller than the average unsub.” Spencer states as he adjusts you on his shoulder. You’re face down to the ground, the blood rushing to your head.

“Yeah, be honest guys, Spencer would get his ass kicked by a majority of those guys,” you jokingly say.

“Not if I have my gun,” Spencer defends himself, beginning to carry you toward the door.

“Bye, Y/N!” Emily shouts, giving you a big wave that you can’t see. “I love you!”

“Don’t be too tough on her now, big guy,” Derek laughs, poking fun at him.

“Oh shut up!” Spencer says.

“Don’t let him take me!” You beg as you watch Spencer get closer to the door step by step. “He’s ruining all the fun!”

“Bring her back!” Penelope shouts from the top of the stairs.

“She’s had her fun, it’s way past our bedtime,” Reid says, turning around to face the team. He lifts one hand to wave goodbye, the other still holding you on his shoulder. “She’ll regret this when she’s throwing up all day tomorrow. Have a Merry Christmas, guys.” He turns and exits the building all while the team bids their farewells.

Spencer carries you the entire way from the BAU office to your car in the parking lot. You’re still slung over his shoulder as he opens the passenger door. He leans into the car and gently lets you fall into the seat. He tucks the loose strands of hair falling in your face behind your ear, then places a delicate kiss on your forehead. He buckles your seatbelt as he ducks out of the car, stopping in his tracks when he locks eyes with you.

Your eyes have glossed over, having had the time for the alcohol in your system to have begun filtering through, a terrible hangover was building.

“Are you alright?” He asks, leaning back into the car. You nod in response, resting against the headrest of the passenger seat. “Are you sure? You had a lot of alcohol, Y/N.”

“‘m okay,” you say, reaching a hand out to grab ahold of his forearm that was stabilizing him above the car seat. “Just got a headache.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. Let’s get you home and into bed, m’kay?” He’s gentle with you. Soft. Caring. He runs his thumb over your cheek once before closing the passenger door, making sure not to slam it as he’s sure a headache has begun to form. He was right.

Spencer jogs quickly around the front of the car, climbing in the driver's seat and turning the key. He turns the volume on the radio down, another thing that could trigger your headache. “I’m gonna take you to my apartment, okay?” He says, placing his hand on the back of the passenger seat and looking over it to reverse out of the BAU parking lot.

‘Does he know how attractive that is?’ You ask yourself.

After reversing, he drops his hand down to your mid thigh and gives it a slight squeeze. You begin to doze off, the effects of the alcohol taking its toll much faster than expected.

...

You wake up in Spencer’s bed. He’s asleep beside you, arm wrapped around your waist holding you close. You’re unsure of the time. Come to think of it, you don’t even remember getting into Spencer’s bed. He must’ve carried you.

Spencer’s apartment is hot, which is strange because he always kept the thermostat at 68, and you could hear the air conditioner running. You gently lift Spencer’s arm from you and place it down next to him, the need to escape from the heat of the blankets outweighing the comfort of his embrace. Saliva begins to coat your throat, the kind that swallowing won’t help. Oh. Oh.

You are going to puke.

You hurriedly sit up on the bed, not giving yourself enough time for your body to stretch before jumping down and rushing into Spencer’s bathroom. You kneel in front of the toilet just in time before the contents of your stomach have become the contents of the toilet bowl. Tears well in your eyes as you struggle to catch your breath between bouts of vomiting. You’re trying not to gag, trying to be quiet, just wishing it would be over. The sound of your sickness echoes through the wall shared by the bathroom and Spencer’s bedroom, waking him from his sleep-addled mind. Spencer jumps to his feet as if his life depended on it, hurrying to the closed door to the bathroom.

“Y/n?” He called softly while pushing the door open. You’re sat on your knees in front of the toilet, pale and trembling. Once he sees you, there’s no hesitation before Spencer is knelt beside you, gathering your hair in one hand and gently scratching comforting patterns on your back with the other. Another wave of vomit hits you, leaving tears streaming down your face as you recover.

Spencer shushes you softly, still scratching your back. “It’s okay baby, I’m right here,” he whispers at you as he wipes tears from your eyes. “You’re going to be okay, baby. Do you want me to get you some water?”

You can barely muster a nod in response, feeling a bit neglected when he gets up to go retrieve it for you. Yes, you did want water, but you also wanted Spencer.

As soon as he leaves the bathroom, you’re hit by another round of vomiting, this time left to deal with on your own. Spencer hears you from the kitchen, causing him to rush. “I’ll be right there, Y/n,” you hear him yell from across the apartment as the bile spills past your mouth, some trickling down onto your shirt. Damn it, this was kind of a nice work shirt, and now it has hangover puke all down the front of it.

Spencer returns to the bathroom, glass of water in hand. He sees you frantically trying to pat away the vomit on your shirt with a few squares of toilet paper. He sits the glass on the edge of the counter, rushing to your aid. “Hey, let's just take this off,” he says, helping you to pull your shirt over your head. Only being left in your bra, the air is cool as it hits your bare back. It feels good.

Spencer grabs the glass of water off the counter, handing it to you. “Here,” he says, “rinse your mouth out real quick.” You do as he says, swishing the room temperature water around in your mouth and spitting it into the toilet. Spencer fills the bathroom sink about half way full with water, then places your soiled shirt in the basin to soak. After, he returns to you, taking the glass of water from your hand and situating himself back on the floor behind you.

You lean back against him, your back to his bare chest. You sigh, grateful beyond words for his presence, for the warmth of his touch amidst the cold grip of illness. His steady mind anchored you in the midst of discomfort. You remain there together on the floor of the small apartment bathroom for what felt like an eternity. Spencer offered you quiet words of reassurance and helped you to drink water while you struggled to regain composure. Eventually, the violent spasms of sickness subsided, leaving you exhausted and shaky in Spencer’s arms.

“Can we go back to bed?” You whisper, your voice hoarse and raw from vomiting.

“Of course, baby, let's brush your teeth though. Vomiting exposes your teeth to the stomach’s highly erosive acids which eat away at the enamel at lightning speeds.” Spencer rambles. You groan in response, not having the energy to hold your arm up for that long. “I can help you, Sweetheart, you just got to stand up for me, ‘mkay?” You nod, struggling to your feet. Spencer picks you up bridal style, carrying you the few steps to the sink and sitting you on the counter facing him. He removes your soaked shirt from the sink and hangs it over the edge of the bathtub to drip dry.

Spencer situates himself between your legs, takes your toothbrush from the cup and wets it, applying a swipe of toothpaste to the bristles. You part your lips as Spencer brings the toothbrush to your mouth.

His brushing was gentle and slow, yet thorough. You rest your head against his shoulder as he does so, too weak to hold your own head up for long periods of time. He uses his left hand to cup your cheek so as to keep your head still as the toothbrush makes friction against your teeth.

“You’re doing great, Y/n,” he says as he moves the toothbrush away from your mouth. “Need to spit?” He directs your head over the sink by your cheek, allowing you to spit the toothpaste into it. He rinses your toothbrush off and returns it to the cup, then hands you the glass of water. You drink the rest of it.

Spencer plants a heavy kiss on your lips, your cool minty breath causing him to shiver. “Ready to go back to bed?” He asks, locking his arms around your waist and pulling you up to his chest. You nod into his shoulder and wrap your legs around his hips and arms around his neck as he carries you back into his bedroom.

He carefully lies you on the mattress, pulling the covers snug around your cold, bare torso. He joins you on the other side of the bed, climbing under the covers himself and snuggling up against you.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur weakly as your hands explore his unclothed back.

“Don’t be,” he replied, brushing a stray strand of hair from your forehead. “I’m glad I could be here for you. It’s my job to take care of you.”

“I shouldn’t have drank that much in the first place,” you say. “I’m sorry you had to see me like that.”

“No. You had fun, and you were in a safe environment. There’s nothing wrong with enjoying a night drinking every now and again. And each time you do, I’ll be here to take care of you afterwards.”

“Thank you, Spence. And I’m sorry if I embarrassed you.” You’re thinking back to him in Derek’s chair, and how you were being a little too comfortable with him. You knew Spencer was shy about showing off your relationship, not because he wanted to hide you, he was proud of you. He was just new at this, he was still learning how to love you publicly.

“No, Y/n. Don’t be sorry. It kind of made me realize I want to be able to show love for you in public too. Y/n, I love you so much. I could never be embarrassed to be loved by you.”

“I love you, Spencer. I love you so much.”

“I love you. Now, get some rest, honey. Hopefully you feel better in the morning.”

You smile into his chest, your heart swelling with love and gratitude for this man who held your hair back when you were at your worst. You could spend eternity here. In this raw, vulnerable state that made you feel at home between Spencer Reid’s arms.

_____

next chapter: N is for New Years

other parts: Spencer Reid A-Z Masterlist

view the masterlist in a calendar version!

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a/n: i wrote this fic way faster than i thought i was going to (three days) however i am pretty confident in it. i'm really enjoying being back! i'm really hoping i am able to stay on this writing kick for a while, i'm always the happiest when i'm writing. i'm hoping to get the next part out within the next week, so stay tuned for that!

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musicforastylesrestaurant · 1 year ago

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Do You Still Love Me?

masterlist || ask me anything <3

my blurb masterlist is here!

in which, harrys been acting shifty lately, when your looking for a shirt in his wardrobe, he gets hostile, when you say your going to go and shower, he gets hostile and for some reason doubts start to creep into your mind about what he’s been doing, so when you confront him about it, he tells you of his secret all along.

word count - 3.1k

23rd December, 2023.

The December air in Holmes Chapel holds a crisp chill, and as you sit in the cozy living room of Harry's family home in Manchester, the warmth envelops you. The room is adorned with festive cheer – a beautifully decorated Christmas tree takes center stage, casting a soft glow of twinkling lights.

The two of you had decided to spend Christmas at his family’s like you do every year, you’ve blended into a member of there family, as if you were always there. Anne considered you as another daughter, and sometimes on accident you sometimes referred to Gemma as your sister, so spending Christmas with them was undoubtedly a no brainer.

You were going to be staying for a total of three weeks, arriving two weeks before the big day and then going home January 1st.

You find comfort on the sofa, admiring the personalized stockings that hang from the mantelpiece, proudly displaying everyone’s initials. One for Harry, one for you, one for Gemma, one for Anne as well as one that is put up every year, an R, for everyone’s angel Robin. The stockings serve as a poignant reminder of the shared holiday traditions and the presence of loved ones, including a thoughtful tribute to his late stepfather.

As you await Harry's return from the grocery shop with his mother and sister, you revel in the tranquility of the moment. The crackling fireplace adds a soothing soundtrack to the scene, enhancing the coziness of the room. You can't help but reflect on the significance of spending Christmas in this familiar space, filled with memories of the past four years.

However, amidst the festive atmosphere, a subtle unease lingers. Lately, you've observed a shift in Harry's demeanor. His actions and words have become increasingly shifty, leaving you with a sense of uncertainty.

He dances around conversations, offering vague responses that only intensify your curiosity. It's a stark contrast to the openness and connection you've shared over the years, causing a quiet concern to settle within you.

You gaze at the stockings once more, the embroidered initials a testament to the bonds that tie your lives together. Yet, as you sit in the glow of the Christmas lights, a question lingers in the air – a question you can't quite bring yourself to voice. The flickering flames cast shadows on the wall, mirroring the uncertainty that clouds your thoughts, which happen to consist of the three moments that you’ve caught him acting weird.

15th December, 2023.

The date was December 15th, and the evening held a quiet tension as you sat on the sofa in Harry's family home, the soft glow of lamplight illuminating the room.

Anne, occupied herself with knitting a jumper, a rhythmic pattern of needles clacking together in the stillness. The warmth of the room, usually comforting, now seemed to underscore an unspoken discomfort.

Around eight at night, the front door creaked open, and Harry entered, an unusual weariness etched across his features.

He had gone out around two, and it was now evening, he just explained to you that a few friends from school wanted to meet up before Christmas, but there was a hint of doubt that remained in your brain.

You couldn't help but inquire about his whereabouts, a hint of concern in your voice.

"Where've you been, Harry?" you asked, eyes searching his face for answers. He shrugged nonchalantly, a vague response that only deepened the unease settling in the room.

Attempting to break through the tension, you pressed further, a furrow forming on your brow. "What's wrong?"

The question hung in the air, met with a dismissive reply.

"Just tired, m’love. Think I might hit the hay early tonight," he mumbled, avoiding eye contact. The words lingered, laden with unspoken weight, leaving you with a sense of disquiet.

As Harry made his way toward the stairs, you couldn't let the matter rest. Concern etched across your face, you followed him, determined to understand the source of his unease. His hand halted you mid-step, a silent plea for space. Unbeknownst to you that it pained him, because he was doing it for the right reason.

"I'd like t’be alone for a little bit," he uttered, the distance in his eyes leaving you feeling shut out.

Left standing at the foot of the staircase, a chasm seemed to widen between you and Harry. The uncertainty echoed in the air, and as he ascended the stairs, the door to understanding remained firmly closed. The normally familiar and comforting surroundings felt alien, the clinking of Anne's knitting needles a somber soundtrack to the unspoken rift.

That night, as you lay in bed, questions lingered in the darkness. The echoes of Harry's vague responses resonated, and a sense of foreboding cast a shadow over what was once a haven of warmth and connection.

19th December, 2023.

The chill of December hangs in the air as you step through the front door, returning from the farmers market with Gemma. The aroma of fresh produce lingers on your clothes, and a shiver runs down your spine as the warmth of the cozy living room beckons.

The house is quiet, save for the faint sounds emanating from the kitchen, where Harry is preparing a cup of coffee for himself.

You navigate the familiar space, following the scent of brewing coffee that wafts through the air. The kitchen is dimly lit, and there he is, Harry, standing by the counter, lost in the quiet ritual of making coffee. His silhouette is a comforting sight, a presence that adds to the warmth of the home.

You make your way up the steps, wanting to be comfy when you greet your lover boy.

The December cold clings to your skin, urging you to shed the layers of the outside world. A yearning for warmth and comfort consumes you, and the thought of slipping into one of Harry's oversized shirts becomes a tempting refuge. The familiarity of his presence in the adjacent room promises solace in the face of the winter chill.

As you move toward the bedroom, the creaking floorboards beneath your feet seem to echo in the quietude of the house.

Gemma strolled into the kitchen, the door swinging gently behind her. She found her brother,

Harry, leaning against the counter, sipping on a cup of coffee. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee beans hung in the air as he greeted her with a cheerful " ‘Ey, how was the market?"

Gemma looked up, offering a warm smile. "It was good, got some nice stuff.

Harry hummed before tilting his head to the side. “Where’s (Y/N)?”

Gemma mirrored his smile, her eyes lighting up. "She went upstairs to get changed, though."

Harry nodded, his attention momentarily diverted as he took another sip of his coffee. However, a realisation dawned on him, and he furrowed his brow. "Wait, she's upstairs?"

Gemma, unaware of the subtle shift in Harry's demeanor, nodded. "Yeah, she mentioned wanting to warm up and change. Why?"

Harry's gaze darted toward the staircase, a sudden sense of urgency gripping him.

"No reason, just wanted t’check on ‘er. Be right back," he said, placing his coffee mug on the counter.

With a quick stride, he headed toward the stairs, a mild curiosity turning into a subtle concern. As he ascended, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss. When he reached the top of the staircase, he spotted you about to enter the bedroom, ready to change.

"Hold on a sec," he called out, hastily covering the distance to stand before you, his expression a mix of surprise and tension. "Y’not allowed in there."

Because in his head, if you wanted to get changed, you’d go to his section of the wardrobe because he knows that you’d want one of his shirts, and then you’d find the surprise and he wasn’t planning on ruining that any time soon.

You paused, mid-step, your brow furrowing. "What do you mean, not allowed? H, I'm just getting changed."

His features tightened with an unexpected intensity. "I said, y’not allowed in there," he repeated, the words hanging heavily in the air.

Confusion and concern painted your expression as you took a step back. "Harry, what's going on? Why can't I go into our bedroom?"

His gaze remained fixed, a wall building between you two. "Just... not right now. I need Don't go in there."

You sighed, a heavy breath escaping you, and nodded in resignation. "Fine, whatever. Just get me some clothes, please."

Harry's shoulders tensed, and he hesitated before nodding. "Ye’okay. I'll get y’some clothes."

22nd December, 2023.

You can't help but replay the scenes in your mind—the December evenings, the vague responses, the moments when he seemed to withdraw. Each memory adds a layer of doubt, and as you connect the dots, a stray tear rolls down your face. The fear of him cheating on you lingers, casting a shadow over the warmth that once permeated your shared space.

The absence of Harry, his mother, and sister intensifies the solitude, and the room feels emptier than ever. The Christmas tree, adorned with memories, offers little solace in the face of the growing suspicion. You contemplate the significance of the three instances, questioning the foundation of trust that once defined your relationship.

In the quiet of the room, the tear on your cheek becomes a silent witness to the emotional turmoil within. The fear of betrayal, the uncertainty, and the unanswered questions create a palpable tension, leaving you to grapple with the haunting possibility that the person you love may be slipping away.

As the front door creaks open, signaling their return from the grocery shopping trip, Harry, his mother, and sister step into the living room. The warmth of familial greetings fills the air, and they collectively acknowledge your presence with smiles and hellos. The shared laughter and banter among them, however, are met with a strained silence on your part.

As Harry approaches, intending to seal the reunion with a customary kiss, you rise from the sofa. The heaviness in the room seems to amplify as you avoid his attempt at affection. You make a deliberate choice to distance yourself, turning away from the warmth that once brought solace and comfort.

With measured steps, you ascend the staircase, each footfall echoing a growing emotional distance. The decision to retreat upstairs becomes a silent declaration of your need for space, a momentary escape from the complexities that have woven themselves into your relationship. The unanswered questions and the lingering fear make it challenging to engage in the familial camaraderie that unfolds below.

As you walk away and ascend the stairs, the atmosphere in the living room subtly shifts. Anne, Harry's mother, notices the change in dynamics and glances at her son, concerned etching her features.

"Everything alright, love?" she asks, a mother's intuition sensing the unspoken tension.

Harry, removing his jacket and shoes, offers a dismissive smile. "Ye’, just gonna check on (Y/N) . Be right back."

His attempt to brush off the situation adds a layer of ambiguity to the air, leaving Anne with a lingering worry that she can't quite shake.

Upstairs, Harry follows in your footsteps, the silence between you palpable. As he enters the room, he finds you standing near the window, gazing out into the night.

"Ey’," he begins tentatively, his voice carrying a hint of uncertainty. "S’going on? Are y’okay?"

Tearfully, you turn around to face him, emotions laid bare in your eyes. The air is thick with a mixture of sorrow and uncertainty as you pose a question that lingers in the silent space,

"Do you still love me?"

The vulnerability in your voice cuts through the room, leaving an atmosphere heavy with the anticipation of his response. Harry, caught off guard by the rawness of the question, searches your eyes for understanding.

Harry, caught off guard, furrows his brow defensively. "F’course, I do. Why would y’even think otherwise?"

His tone carries a mixture of hurt and frustration, an instinctive response to the implication that the love between you might be in question.

The room becomes charged with an anguished tension as you gather the courage to voice the unspoken concerns that have festered. "It's just... you've been acting so differently lately. There are these moments, these instances when you seem so distant. I can't help but feel like there's something you're not telling me."

Harry's defensive stance persists as he denies any wrongdoing.

"M’don't know what y’talking about. S’nothing going on," he insists, avoiding eye contact. The weight of his denial adds another layer to the unease in the room, leaving you to grapple with the growing chasm between you two.

The frustration builds, and you press further, "Harry, you can't just brush this off. It feels like you're hiding something, and I deserve to know what's going on."

The plea in your voice is met with a guarded expression from Harry, his defensive walls standing tall.

The room seems to tighten with each passing moment, the emotional stakes escalating.

"M’not hiding anything," Harry asserts, his voice tinged with exasperation. "Y’reading into things, making a big deal out f’nothing."

As the back-and-forth continues, a sense of despair settles in.

"Harry, I need honesty. We can't move forward if you keep shutting me out," you implore, the depth of your emotions exposed. Yet, his walls remain intact, and the elusive nature of the truth becomes a palpable barrier.

The echoes of their laughter from downstairs seem like distant memories now, drowned out by the intensity of the conversation unfolding.

"Just tell me, Harry. Tell me what's going on,the time you stopped me coming upstairs with you, the time you stopped me coming into the bedroom and had a go at me for wanting to go on your phone " you plead, your voice cracking under the weight of the unresolved tension.

The emotional exchange reaches a breaking point, leaving you on the floor, sobbing, desperate for answers. The weight of the uncertainty, the unspoken tensions, and the fear of losing the connection you once cherished overwhelm you. The room becomes a backdrop for your vulnerability, the walls echoing with the sound of your heartache.

Amidst your tears, you hear Harry sigh, and the rustle of a box catches your attention. He crouches down beside you, the heaviness in the air momentarily shifting.

"Look at m’please," he implores gently, his voice carrying a tone of sincerity that cuts through the emotional fog.

Hesitant, you raise your tear-stained eyes to meet his. His gaze holds a mixture of regret and determination, and he asks you to stand up. Every fiber of your being is hesitant, a cocktail of emotions bubbling beneath the surface. Reluctantly, you rise, uncertainty written all over your face.

As you stand, Harry, now on one knee, pulls out a small box. The room seems to hold its breath as he meets your gaze.

"V’been acting shifty because v’been planning this," he confesses, his voice soft yet earnest. "I wanted it t’be a surprise, but the timing... it just got all messed up."

"From the moment we met, m’life gained a sparkle that I never knew I needed. V’been m’confidante, m’partner in laughter, and the steady warmth that completes every corner of m’world. These past four years ‘ave been a journey f’growth, laughter, and endless love. Y’seen me at m’best and m’worst, yet y’loved m’unwaveringly."

He lets out a soft sigh. “Will y’make m’the happiest person in the world and say yes?"

Overwhelmed by the heartfelt speech and the flood of emotions, you fall into Harry's waiting arms, the warmth of his embrace grounding you in the reality of the moment. His arms wrap securely around you, and you find solace in the familiar comfort of his presence. With tears of joy streaming down your face, you look into his eyes, a silent affirmation of the love that binds you.

In a tender exchange, you press a loving kiss to his lips, the connection deepening as the weight of the proposal lifts from the room.

"Yes," you whisper against his lips, the word echoing with the promise of a shared future.

"Yes, Harry, a thousand times yes," you repeat, each affirmation punctuating the joy that now fills the space between you.

The room seems to shimmer with the shared happiness, and Harry holds you closer, his own eyes reflecting the relief and joy of the moment.

"I love you," he murmurs, the words a gentle reassurance that lingers in the air.

Harry tenderly tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch a gentle reassurance.

"M’sorry f’being so sneaky and, well, a bit harsh," he admits, sincerity coloring his gaze. "I just wanted the proposal t’be a surprise, but I guess v’already messed that up."

A light laugh escapes him, the sound a blend of amusement and relief. "Guess I couldn't keep it under wraps as well as I thought."

You join in the laughter, finding the humor in the unexpected twists of the evening.

"Well, surprise or not, it's the most wonderful thing that could have happened. I can't wait to be Mrs. Styles," you express, your eyes reflecting the genuine excitement that courses through you.

Harry's eyes soften with affection as he hears those words, and he leans in to press a sweet kiss to your forehead.

"M’can't wait either, m’love," he whispers, his voice carrying the promise of a shared future.

The room becomes a haven of shared laughter, love, and the promise of forever. Harry, still on one knee, takes your hand and delicately kisses the engagement ring.

"S’ring represents the love we've shared and the life we're about t’build together," he says, his words a poignant acknowledgment of the significance of the moment.

The room, once filled with questions and uncertainty, is now brimming with the certainty of love and the anticipation of a future together as Mr. and Mrs. Styles.

795 notes · View notes

gyeomsweetgyeom · 6 months ago

Text

all nct 127 imagines can be found here personal favorites are marked with ☆

last updated October 28 , 2024

Johnny

lovesick fool {college!au} posted November 21, 2020

Johnny is your work husband and feels fine with being just that until something someone makes him realize he wants more

☆ [5:58 pm] posted September 12, 2021

FaceTime with Johnny and a your mom joke, but really- you’re at his mom’s

[2:57 pm] posted February 26, 2022

Going out shopping with Johnny when someone calls his last name which also happens to be yours

[2:21 pm] posted June 12, 2022

Johnny wants to get your attention after an argument by making you ask for help, but you find your own solution

[4:50 pm] posted November 13, 2022

CEO!Johnny has a few minutes to send something important but he doesn’t want to move so he uses you as a desk

☆ [12:07] posted May 6, 2023

Dad!Johnny and you take your daughter to the beach for the first time +BONUS fake instagram post

☆ [4:51 pm] posted October 22, 2023

CEO!Johnny’s employees have a bet going on for when the two of you will get together, but you already are??

[8:12 pm] posted December 22, 2023

You’re spending your first Christmas in Chicago with the Suh’s and Johnny’s mom is making sure to document it all

[10:14 pm] posted May 4, 2024

you’re really hoping Best friend!Johnny comes over to tell you his date was horrible…

Taeyong

[1:16 pm] posted January 7, 2021

Taeyong does your nails

[7:05 pm] posted January 3, 2022

Taeyong still gets shy when you tell him you love him

[10:38 am] posted September 18, 2022

Parent!Taeyong just can’t say no even when you already have said no

[10:57 pm] posted August 5, 2023

idol!reader breaks up with Taeyong after the hate becomes too much when your relationship is revealed

Yuta

[7:34 pm] posted January 11, 2021

After a date with a little wine, Yuta doesn’t want to hold your hand

☆ [12:06 am] posted September 19, 2021

Yuta comes home drunk with something interesting to show

[3:19 pm] posted March 19, 2022

Yuta ruins his wedding band… again

☆[3:19 pm] posted March 19, 2022

Frat!Yuta can’t wait to get out of this stupid gala especially when you’re dressed this well

☆[1:12 am] posted January 8, 2023

Yuta’s coming home from tour! But do you know that?

[1:24 am] posted June 24, 2023

Frat!Yuta and you always find someway to sneak off and makeout when you drink, how has it become a problem for your friends?

[1:29 pm] posted February 3, 2024

Dad!Yuta and you have a leash kid

Doyoung

[8:32 pm] posted April 25, 2021

Doyoung brings home something surprising and quite frankly, unbelievable

☆[4:41 pm] posted November 14, 2021

You may be mad but you still love Doyoung

[2:19 pm] posted Auguest 14, 2021

Doyoung is an extremely nervous boyfriend- wait, boyfriend?

☆[4:41 pm] posted November 14, 2021

Sneaking around the office with SecretBF!Doyoung would be a lot easier if you didn’t wear lispstick and your secretaries weren’t so observant

[5:44 pm] posted June 3, 2023

Seeing your horrible ex boyfriend at the grocery store has you picking a random stranger, Doyoung, to be your fake boyfriend

[7:27 pm] posted December 21, 2023

CEO!Doyoung finally confesses his feelings for you at the company holiday party

[1:08 pm] posted April 6, 2024

surprisingly, the messiness of fatherhood isn’t something that bothers Doyoung

The Return of Superman- Doyoung posted August 9, 2024

Doyoung and his two kids go on The Return of Superman

[2:09 pm] posted October 4, 2024

dad!Doyoung is starting to notice your son is a miniature version of you

Jaehyun

⋆⭒˚｡⋆fratboy!Jaehyun masterlist⋆⭒˚｡⋆

Pick me posted October 12, 2020

After getting engaged, Johnny and Taeyong keep fighting over who gets to be the best man

[5:42 pm] posted July 25, 2021

Jaehyun is uncharacteristically clingy

☆ [9:33 am] posted December 18, 2021

(suggestive) Jaehyun can’t control himself this early in the morning after a simple kiss

[6:31 pm]

BestFriend!Jaehyun finally gives you your first bouquet of flowers ever

☆ [6:19 pm] posted December 17, 2022

Dad!Jaehyun talks to pregnant!reader’s belly

☆ [7:41 am] posted January 29, 2023

Saturdays are supposed to be sleeping in but Dad!Jaehyun has other plans

☆[8:34pm] posted July 2, 2023

Brother’s Best Friend!Jaehyun comes to pick you up after a bad date and can’t help flirting and flustering you

[9:13 pm] posted September 2, 2023

Jaehyun can get a little jealous when a bartender is talking to you for too long

[10:13 pm] posted October 28, 2023

supposed situationship!Jaehyun hates that you’re watching tiktok edits of Pookie

[8:57 pm] posted November 5, 2023

You told Jaehyun you were going out for Halloween, but you didn’t tell him how sexy your costume was

[9:12 am] posted January 6, 2024

Jaehyun makes the mistake of hanging out with a girl he knew from school, the only mistake being he didn’t tell you who… and he never came home

[8:59 pm] posted January 20, 2024

Jaehyun is just a little shocked to see what his contact name is in your phone

[11:04 pm] posted February 17, 2024

idol!reader and idol!Jaehyun get their relationship exposed at a Bruno Mars concert

[8:46 pm] posted February 24, 2024

you’ve never really dated anyone before so it really only makes sense that since he gets you flowers, you get him some in return right?

your biggest fan posted February 25, 2024

{western popstar!reader x idol!reader} in which the world discovers your relationship with Jaehyun and surprisingly… they love it

[3:21 pm] posted March 3, 2024

in relationships you have to make sacrifices, and for Jaehyun that means eating food he doesn’t really like since you love it

☆[12:11 pm] posted April 21, 2024

dad!Jaehyun isn’t going to say he’s jealous of his daughter and Uncle Johnny- but you can say it

[9:22 pm] posted May 25, 2024

AcademicRival!Jaehyun is the last person you’d expect to help you out after you get in a fight {enemies2lovers, college!au}

[10:14 am] posted May 26, 2024

if you weren’t 2 weeks overdue, Jaehyun being doting would be really sweet- but you are 2 weeks overdue and it’s not sweet

[12:07 pm] posted June 8, 2024

dad!Jaehyun doesn't have your talent of getting his baby girl to eat, or your common sense of keeping the food out of her grasp

[4:59 pm] posted June 22, 2024

Jaehyun watched the Bridgerton carriage scene with you and gets hooked on the show

☆[3:22 pm] posted July 6, 2024

Jaehyun is completely enamored by your pregnancy glow

[4:51 pm] posted July 13, 2024

you and dad!Jaehyun take your kids to the water park and the lazy river works some magic

showering Jaehyun's dimples with love posted August 15, 2024

[12:41 pm] posted August 16, 2024

pregnancy is hard enough as is, but now you're on bed rest? Thank God for Jaehyun (cw: pregnancy complications)

[3:11 pm] posted August 17, 2024

you and Jaehyun were supposed to be baby shopping but Smiskis and Sonny Angels caught your eye instead

just makes sense posted August 22, 2024

your and Jaehyun’s fans just really can’t believe that they two of you are just best friends

self-on kode with Jaehyun posted September 27, 2024

You and Jaehyun usually have a pretty private relationship, thanks to Self-On Kode your fans can learn more (f!reader, idol!reader)

[1:17 pm] posted September 29, 2024

dad!Jaehyun helps you when you're overwhelmed with a colicky baby

Jaehyun doing acts of service! posted October 3, 2024

dad!Jaehyun and shopping with the kids! posted October 11, 2024

[3:17 pm] posted October 12, 2024

dad!Jaehyun gets ambushed by you and his daughters for a makeover

Jungwoo

☆ [8:04 pm] posted August 21, 2021

Jungwoo compares bellies with pregnant!reader

[3:54 am] posted January 29, 2022

You’re trying to fall asleep and feel weird… yeah because Jungwoo is staring at you

[3:48 pm] posted October 16, 2022

If there was any person to get mad over having food made for them it would be Jungwoo

☆ [6:33 am] posted September 9, 2023

Dad!Jungwoo loves his daughter don’t get him wrong, but he questions it the slightest bit when he gets woken up for food

[5:57 pm] posted April 20, 2024

Jungwoo is taking his childhood celebrity crush on a date only to find out you’re really sweet and down to earth

[1:18 pm] posted July 21, 2024

dad!Jungwoo gets sick but luckily he has you and your daughter to nurse him back to health

[8:25 pm] posted August 10, 2024

dad!Jungwoo is getting over being sick and wants your attention, too bad your daughter has gotten used to having it all to herself

Mark

☆ [10:58 am] posted April 11, 2021

Waking up the morning after and Mark is just a suggestive dork

[1:16 pm] posted June 11, 2021

Skater!Mark wants to teach you to skate but first he has to loosen your shoelaces

[9:29 pm] October 9, 2021

BasketballPlayer!Mark doesn’t know when to stop practicing

[11:54 am] posted June 25, 2022

Everything that could go wrong on your first date with Mark goes wrong

[2:25 am] posted December 10, 2022

Mark thinks you’re losing on purpose, but you’re just really not that good at Smash

☆ [2:13 pm] posted March 19, 2023

PART 1- Breakup!au, Mark is stressed with the pressure of college, lucky for him (and unluckily for you) he has some new frat brothers to tell him what to do

[5:48 pm] posted April 9, 2023

PART 2- Mark comes to apologize and tells you he wants you back but he’s made some changes which gives you hope

[12:23 pm] posted April 30, 2023

Mark hates when you kiss him with lipgloss, funny that he wants more after you stop

☆ [4:26 pm] posted July 28, 2023

Most couples use pet names for each other, some people would expect you and Mark to do the same, especially since you’re getting married

[6:14 pm] posted December 24, 2023

BestFriend!Mark comes to the holiday party only to get stuck with you outside and under mistletoe

[2:17 pm] posted March 16, 2024

a quick trip to Ikea becomes an opportunity to play house

[2:57 pm] posted May 11, 2024

BestFriend!Mark accidentally comes across a picture of you in some sexy lingerie

[5:21 pm] posted June 2, 2024

your son starts calling you what Mark calls you and it would be cute if Mark had real term of endearment for you

The Return of Superman- Mark posted August 25, 2024

Mark and his son go on The Return of Superman

[9:22 pm] posted October 17, 2024

you should be happy that situationship!Mark is showing you affection in public, right?

Haechan

my mom loves you posted December 23, 2020

Haechan’s family loves you almost (maybe more) than he does and he loves it (maybe first I love yous too? can be read as that I guess)

a family with the hyungs posted February 4, 2021

dating Hyuck apparently also kinda means dating Mark

[5:58 am] posted August 28, 2021

a soft, cozy morning with Haechan

[11:48 am] posted April 2, 2022

The group finds out College!Haechan tags you in some weird stuff on instagram

☆ [10:39 pm] posted October 29, 2022

Bestfriend!Frat!Haechan thinks you look so hot, when did that happen?

[6:07 pm] posted November 22, 2022

Haechan always says that his grandma is the best cook, so she must have been the one to cook this meal right? No, you did.

[6:17 pm] posted April 22, 2023

Meeting Haechan’s family for the first time should be stressful, so why aren’t you stressful? (kind of prequel to my mom loves you)

☆ [7:33 pm] posted July 15, 2023

being pregnant can be bad, it can get worse when Haechan makes it the slightest bit more uncomfortable for you

☆ [7:21 am] posted December 3, 2023

Haechan and your son are very alike, too alike especially when it comes to their love for you +BONUS fake instagram post

[4:28 pm] posted December 23, 2023

Haechan has to keep up the usual Christmas traditions despite being away from his family, too bad he can’t bake

[9:02 pm] posted March 10, 2024

Romeo!Haechan falls in love with Juliet!Reader at first sight {Romeo and Juliet au}

[2:14 pm] posted June 15, 2024

Haechan is so distracted by his videogames that he'll just agree to anything, and he does

[3:32 pm] posted October 19, 2024

Haechan has not shut up once all day!

#nct 127 masterlist #nct masterlist #masterlist

268 notes · View notes

capuccinodoll · 2 months ago

Text

The Invitation

Before the sun hits (chapter one)

Hi there, this is the first time I post something here, so I hope you like it! It's defenitely going to be a fun story to write. This is going to be a Joel series, so feel free to send any ideas and suggestions, as english is not my first language, so I apologize if there are any mistakes (if there are, don't hesitate to let me know so I can correct them), x.

DECEMBER 15th.

The window was misted over, softening the pale, nocturnal landscape outside. Winter had started creeping in, slowly but unmistakably. The asphalt below gleamed, slick from the recent rain, and a thin wisp of smog slipped through the narrow crack in the window that your mother had just opened.

"The heat is suffocating me," she murmured, and you nodded, understanding. You couldn’t really blame her; she'd spent the first twenty years of her life far away from Austin's warmth.

Inside, the living room felt warm and inviting. Soft, golden light illuminated the white walls, which were lined with family photos, each one a little piece of your history. In the corner by the window, the Christmas tree stood, decorated with a quaint charm that somehow stole the room’s attention.

Your father stepped into the room behind you, his smile wide and content. He wore a green sweater dotted with white stars and red hearts, holding his phone against his ear with exaggerated enthusiasm, his hands gesturing wildly as he spoke.

"Like a kid at Christmas," your mother observed, and she wasn’t wrong.

The holidays hadn't been your favorite for the past few years. They’d been tangled up with messy breakups, the stress of school and work, and a handful of regretful decisions. Like last Christmas, when you decided to leave early for New York instead of staying with family, and ended up drinking cheap wine on the cold floor of your new, empty apartment—far from home, and even closer to a personal catastrophe. Not that you could have known that at the time, of course.

"Joel is coming," your father announced suddenly, snapping you out of your reverie. "And Sarah too. Remember her, honey? She was this tall the last time we saw her," he said, holding his hand at his waist.

Of course you remembered Sarah. She had stayed with you for a weekend when you were twelve, while her father took care of her brother Tommy in the hospital. She’d been eight then—funny, wide-eyed, a little whirlwind of curiosity. The two of you had spent the weekend browsing your local library, eating far too many sweet treats, and giggling over childhood crushes on the Twilight cast.

"Of course I remember her," you replied, feeling the weight of those intervening years. "It’s been a while, though. She must be an adult by now."

"She turned twenty-one last July. I saw it on Tommy’s Facebook," your father added.

"He’s not coming?" your mother asked, but before you could catch the answer, you found yourself slipping out of the room, seeking a moment of solitude.

Upstairs, your old bedroom welcomed you with silence as you shut the door, muffling the voices from downstairs. You let yourself collapse onto the soft bed, feeling a heavy weariness seep into your bones. You hadn’t quite figured out how to deal with everything yet, but you kept promising yourself that you’d sort it out after the holidays. As you lay there, staring at the ceiling covered with old movie stills and band posters, Eddie Vedder’s frowning face seemed to stare back at you, almost judgmental.

You’d made a mistake. That was it. You hated your job, and you’d made a mistake. New York wasn’t what you thought it would be—at least, the people in it weren’t. The city had chewed you up, spat you out, and left you feeling raw and disillusioned. But your parents couldn’t know that, not yet. It would break their hearts to learn that their only daughter hated her career and needed a fresh start. They’d worked so hard to make this holiday special. Your mother had even won the family bet on Halloween, the one they did every year, where the winner got to choose the Christmas and New Year’s destination. She’d picked Canmore—her hometown in Canada—where she promised a true winter wonderland that would let everyone leave their troubles behind, if only for a little while.

Leave everyday life behind, you thought. It was exactly what you needed: three weeks away from New York, away from Austin, away from anywhere that already knew you. Maybe the snow would help wash it all away.

"Sweetie, it’s time for dinner," your mother’s voice interrupted your thoughts. She stood at the door, her smile tender, with Eddie Vedder’s glowering face staring over her shoulder from the poster on your wall.

"What time is it?" you asked groggily.

"Quarter past eight. We’re waiting for you downstairs. Fix your hair a little, Joel and Sarah are here. You should see her, she’s gorgeous!"

"I’ll be down in a minute," you mumbled, your eyes already sliding shut again.

"No, you won’t," she said knowingly. "I know you too well. You’ll fall back asleep the second I walk away." She perched at the foot of the bed, pressing down on your feet, and you let out a frustrated sigh.

With a resigned groan, you forced your eyes open and sat up, swinging your legs over the edge of the bed. She waited, watching until you were fully upright before finally leaving.

In the bathroom, you saw what she meant about your hair—a mess of tangled strands falling around your face, the braid you’d done earlier completely undone. You quickly brushed it out, splashed some cold water on your face, and tried to shake off the haze of sleep. When you stepped back out, your mother was gone, but you could hear the voices from downstairs—Sarah’s laugh, bright and familiar, followed by your father’s. And then another voice, deeper and more reserved. That must be Joel, you thought.

You remembered him vaguely. Tall, broad-shouldered, with a serious expression that never seemed to soften. He was always in a hurry, rarely stopping to chat, always working to keep things afloat while raising Sarah on his own. Your dad used to talk about their childhood, how he and Joel and your Uncle Luke had grown up in the same neighborhood, the four of them inseparable as teenagers. For some reason, you lingered a moment longer in front of the mirror, fixing stray hairs, before heading downstairs to face whatever awaited you.

Before you even stepped onto the first stair, you paused, tugging at the off-the-shoulder black dress you’d chosen on instinct—or maybe not. Oh, of course you knew why you’d picked it. How long had it been since Sarah had last seen you? Back then, you’d been the effortlessly cool older daughter of her dad’s best friend. Now, you were twenty-four, slightly adrift, but she didn’t need to know that.

Still, you’d pulled yourself together in record time. Your skin had a soft glow, your cheeks rosy, your lips glossed with a shade of red that wasn’t too loud but just right. Your eyes, framed by delicate makeup, carried an understated glamour. And you’d even worn the choker your mother had given you three birthdays ago, a beautiful piece that added a touch of sophistication. Yes, you looked good.

As you descended the stairs, the murmur of voices grew louder, the conversation below taking shape. In the living room, your father was enthusiastically recounting a recent match, and your mother kept interrupting him, correcting his version of events with affectionate precision. Sarah’s laughter rang out, bright and easy, clearly entertained by their dynamic. Though you tried to make your footsteps light, they were quickly noticed.

“Sweetheart! Finally, come join us!” your mother called, her face lighting up with a wide smile. She was seated on the couch by the window, your dad beside her. Across from them, with their backs to you, sat Sarah and Joel. Sarah turned as soon as she saw you. Joel didn’t.

“I was just asking Sarah if she remembered that weekend,” your dad said, shifting to make room for you beside him, “She was so small back then! This small!” He held his hand out at the level of his face to demonstrate.

As you sat down, you caught your breath. Sarah wasn’t just grown up—she was stunning. Her smile was warm and playful, though her hands rested a little nervously in her lap. But her eyes were the same, wide and full of light.

“Of course I remember! It was such a fun weekend. You were like the big sister I never had,” Sarah said, her voice warm and nostalgic.

“Really? I’m so glad to hear that. I had a great time, too. I can’t believe how much you’ve grown,” you admitted, laughing. “God, I sound so old saying that.”

“At least someone had fun that weekend, huh, Joel?” your father joked, and it was then that your eyes finally found Joel for the first time that evening.

Maybe it was nerves that kept you from looking sooner, or maybe it was something else. But Joel was different—very different. Or had he always looked like this? You weren’t sure if you were about to laugh or choke. The transformation felt seismic.

“Don’t remind me,” Joel said, his voice deep, vibrating in the room. He turned to you then, his gaze locking onto yours for just a moment too long before he added, “Kid.”

During that weekend, twelve years ago, you saw Joel two times max; once when he dropped Sarah home, and again when he came back for her. He looked stressed and mainly angry. But you didn't remembered exactly why. Pretty sure it had to do with Tommy having a fall somewhere.

“Too bad he didn't come to dinner. I haven't seen the bastard in months, though I must say far fewer months than I haven't seen you,” your father added.

Joel leaned back on the couch, a faint smile playing at the corners of his mouth, and you took the opportunity to really look at him. He was wearing a black button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up, his dark jeans fitting snugly. His hair was streaked with gray, messy in that deliberate way, and God, he was massive. Broad shoulders strained against the fabric of his shirt, every subtle movement revealing the strength beneath.

Your dad had mentioned Joel was a contractor, and now it made perfect sense. That kind of body was built through hard labor, hours spent lifting, hammering, doing things that required strength and grit. His eyes, though, were what drew you in—dark, a little tired, but still sharp, with the lights of the Christmas tree flickering softly in their depths.

“He’s becoming a bit of a hermit,” Sarah teased, her voice lilting with affection.

Joel smiled then, his whole face softening. “Tommy’s with his in-laws this Christmas,” he explained.

“You owe me a couple of beers, Miller,” your dad teased, and Joel shot him a sideways grin.

“For now, be happy with dinner,” your mother interrupted, her voice brimming with excitement. “I’m sure we’re all starving!”

You couldn’t help but glance at Joel one more time as everyone began moving toward the dining room. There was something about him now, and as he rose from the couch, towering over you, you couldn’t shake the thought.

He sat across from you, elbows propped on the table, his focus fixed on your father, who was gesturing animatedly from his spot in the left corner. In this softer, golden light, his face appeared more open, less stern. You let your gaze linger over his features, taking advantage of the fact that he seemed wholly absorbed in your father's story. His eyes, which you remembered as dark and unreadable, now looked a little lighter, a warm honey hue emerging beneath the shadows. Faint lines etched the corners of his eyes and mouth, traces of a life well-worn, and you found it unsettling—indecent, even—how much you liked the way they shaped his face. He looked... you didn’t quite know how to put it. Weathered, maybe. But in a good way, like something that had been around long enough to carry a few secrets.

It wasn’t that you were into older men. You’d never been that girl. Your exes had all been within a reasonable margin of your age, maybe three years older, max. But Joel... well, Joel was looking at you now. And you, with your head tilted slightly and your lips just barely parted, were looking right back at him. Like he was a puzzle, a rare artifact you couldn’t help but analyze. Then reality caught up to you, and you straightened abruptly, trying to regain your composure, your face heating up with the embarrassment of being caught.

You shifted in your chair, trying to steady yourself, but your foot—unsettled by the awkwardness—stretched out a little too quickly, bumping against his under the table. You froze as heat flushed your cheeks, hoping he hadn’t noticed. But Joel's eyes flashed with a brief moment of surprise, which he smoothed over quickly, turning back to your dad.

He probably thought you were being clumsy, which, in fairness, you were. You glanced over at Sarah, who sat beside Joel, mirroring her father’s posture, absorbed in whatever they were saying. But then you caught the tail end of their conversation and realized they were talking about you.

“We’ve got to make the most of our time with her,” your dad was saying. “She’s a big city girl now. Since she’s been home, she’s been sleeping like the dead. Completely exhausted, isn’t that right, honey?”

“True, true,” your mom chimed in, leaning forward with a conspiratorial smile. “We’ve barely had the chance to chat about her life. I bet you understand that feeling, don’t you, Joel?”

“Mom,” you cut in, a twinge of discomfort in your voice, but Joel’s eyes stayed on you, his curiosity finally directed your way.

“What do you do?” he asked, his voice steady, his gaze unwavering.

You hesitated, feeling strangely self-conscious under his attention. “I’m in marketing area, in Arcor, uh, in New York.”

“The candy company?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. You nodded quickly, like you wanted to get past it.

“Yeah, that one.”

“And she’s been doing very well. We almost didn’t get her to come home for the holidays,” your mom said, eager to emphasize your success.

The truth was, you had been busy—insanely, overwhelmingly busy. The holiday season meant one of the biggest sales periods at the company, and even though your salary didn’t quite justify it, you’d spent countless late nights at the office, dealing with the endless pressure from above. Or at least, that’s what you’d told them. They bought it, of course. You were the golden child—never rebellious, never a troublemaker. So they believed every word you said. But when they offered to visit you in New York, you’d panicked. Somehow, returning home to Canmore seemed like the lesser of two anxieties.

“I’ve always wanted to go to New York,” Sarah piped up, her voice carrying a wistful tone. “I bet you never get bored there.”

No, you didn’t get bored. That much was true. Even though the city had left you feeling a little bruised, there was something undeniably captivating about it. The bustling streets, the ever-present hum of life, the art and culture pouring out of every corner—it was beautiful, in its own overwhelming way. If only you had more time, maybe you’d have enjoyed it more.

“You don’t, and it’s stunning, especially at Christmas,” you admitted. “The snow can be a mess, but it’s part of the charm.”

“You say that because you’ve never spent Christmas in Canmore,” your mom interrupted with a knowing smile. “Now that’s as magical as it gets.”

“What’s it like?” Sarah asked, her curiosity making your mom’s eyes light up.

“Oh, it’s beautiful,” she said, leaning in with enthusiasm. “The snow-covered mountains, the twinkling lights, tourists bustling through the shops—it’s like a postcard. And there’s so much to do. I was there just last October, and it was lovely then, too. Are you a Halloween fan, Sarah?”

Sarah nodded eagerly, and your mom nodded back, feeding off her energy. “You’d love it in the fall, then. Canmore is perfect for any holiday.”

Your dad chimed in, a twinkle in his eye. “Speaking of the holidays, what about you, Joel? Got any plans?” His smile was wide, as if he’d just come up with the most brilliant idea in the world.

“He doesn’t,” Sarah cut in before Joel could speak, and he shifted in his seat, visibly uncomfortable.

Your mom’s brow furrowed. “How’s that?”

“I’m spending Christmas and New Year’s out of town,” Sarah explained. “I invited him to join me, but he doesn’t want to spend that much time with my boyfriend’s family. Right, Dad?”

“That’s not true,” Joel objected, sounding almost wounded, like he’d been caught in an unflattering light.

“Well then, you should come with us,” your dad suggested with a grin, clearly proud of himself. “We’ve rented a great cabin, and there’s plenty of room. Sarah can join us later. It’ll be fun.”

“I’d love to,” Joel replied, but there was a touch of restraint in his voice, enough to make your dad frown. “But I was hoping to use the time to catch up on some work.”

“Joel, you can’t spend the holidays alone,” your mom pressed, sounding like she wouldn’t take no for an answer. “We’d love to have you with us. Really, it’s a beautiful place.”

“We’re leaving next Monday and we’ll be back by January seventh,” your dad added for good measure.

“I’ll drive to the airport with Dean and then head to Canmore myself after New Year’s,” Sarah said, giving Joel a pointed look. “Come on, Dad, don’t be a Grinch.”

Your dad chuckled, taking the opportunity to refill his glass. After a quick sip, he leaned forward, eyes twinkling. “Look, Joel, Tommy’s out of town, Sarah’s leaving, so what’s your excuse? And don’t give me that ‘work’ line—it’s the holidays! If you turn me down, I’ll just assume you don’t want to spend time with an old friend who’s missed you.”

Ah, classic Dad, turning everything into a guilt trip. But now, instead of rolling your eyes, you found it amusing, watching Joel squirm a little, unsure how to respond. Even Sarah seemed to enjoy the show.

“Alright, alright,” Joel said, a small, tired smile playing on his lips. “Let me think about it, okay? And don’t try to manipulate me, Evans, you know that never worked on me.”

Dinner continued in a comfortably chaotic way, with your dad peppering Joel with jokes and playful nudges about the Canmore trip. Each time, Joel responded with a small, almost imperceptible smile, offering vague, evasive replies that left you wondering if your dad's persistent charm was working on him or not. You caught yourself studying the little shifts in Joel's expression, trying to decipher if he was actually considering the invitation or just humoring your dad.

Soon, your mother reappeared from the kitchen, carrying her signature apple pie, its golden crust steaming. She served it alongside cups of coffee, each in a mug sporting a different Christmas design. When Sarah mentioned how adorable the mugs were, your mother didn't hesitate to gift her one on the spot, complete with a matching saucer, her face lighting up as she watched Sarah’s delight.

But as the conversation continued, you found it increasingly difficult to concentrate. Joel had begun talking about recent renovations around his house, and your mind kept drifting. You imagined him on a ladder, paintbrush in hand, or lugging a heavy toolbox. How would he look after an afternoon of hard work—sweaty, hair tousled, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up to his elbows? A warmth spread through you at the thought, but then Joel's gaze flicked toward you, as if sensing your thoughts. Caught, you forced a smile and looked away, focusing on your pie as the heat crept up your neck.

After everyone had finished eating, you busied yourself with gathering the cups and plates, carrying them into the kitchen in a self-imposed silence. As you placed them on the counter, a sudden hollowness settled in your chest. It was the kind of feeling that made you realize just how out of place you were—how far you’d strayed from the person your parents thought you were. How long could you keep up this act, pretending that everything was fine when, in reality, your life had unraveled months ago?

You found your phone sitting on top of the refrigerator, where your mom must have left it earlier. You’d been avoiding checking it, afraid of what you might find, but now you unlocked it and scrolled through the notifications: three messages from Ally, your only real friend in New York, and a random email from an old forum. You made a mental note to unsubscribe, then opened Ally’s texts.

Have you seen his Instagram?

He’s a jerk. I’m sorry.

Are you okay?

Your heart clenched, and you hesitated before searching for what would surely hurt. There it was—a photo of Liam, your ex-coworker, arm wrapped around a woman’s waist as she flaunted a ring on her left hand. You shut your phone with a sharp breath, the realization hitting hard. How could you have been so naïve? Tears pricked at your eyes as your mother’s voice drew nearer, drifting through the door from the dining room. You panicked, ducking out the back door into the hallway. No one could see you like this, not when you’d worked so hard to keep up the illusion. If your mom saw you, the whole truth would tumble out.

You made it to the small bathroom under the stairs, and just as you reached for the handle, the door swung open, making you lurch forward. Joel stood on the other side.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” you blurted, keeping your eyes down. “I didn’t know it was occupied.”

You turned quickly, ready to retreat, but his voice stopped you.

“Hey, you alright?”

You turned back to him, forcing a smile. “Yeah, yes, I’m fine.”

He frowned, unconvinced. “You sure? Doesn’t look like it.”

“I... I just had a long day, that’s all,” you muttered, but you could feel your composure slipping. Your eyes were fixed on a button of his shirt, trying desperately not to meet his gaze. But then, without warning, your tears broke free. A soft sob escaped, and Joel’s expression softened as he pulled the door open wider.

Your hand flew to your mouth, but the tears kept coming. Joel placed a hand on your shoulder, the warmth of it anchoring you even as you felt yourself teetering on the edge of losing control completely. He glanced down the hallway, then back at you with a furrowed brow.

“I’ll get your parents,” he offered.

“No!” You reached out, gripping his arm too tightly. “Please don’t.”

He blinked, clearly taken aback, and for a moment, you both stood there, your grip firm on his forearm. You knew you were making him uncomfortable, but you couldn’t seem to care. You could see the confusion in his eyes as he tried to make sense of your desperation.

"You sure?" you asked, swearing you could read an expression on his face that screamed 'Do I really have a choice?'

Determined, you stepped between him and the door and into the bathroom. Joel turned around in confusion, but quickly understood and closed the door behind him. The moment felt strange, and it was. The room was cramped and the walls enclosed you in a non-existent, completely unfamiliar intimacy. You looked at him nervously and realized that you were on the verge of doing something irresponsable; of course he would tell your parents, of course he wouldn't keep your secret, why should he? If you had to be rational, you'll do the same thing. At the end of the day, they were best friends. But it didn't matter. The was no space for consideration as the verbal vomit was about to come out.

“I quit my job, and my ex-boyfriend—who also happens to be my former co-worker—is marrying the woman he cheated on me with. I’ve been pretending like everything’s fine, but I’m probably going to have to move back to Austin because I hate how everything turned out.”

Joel's eyes widened slightly as he took in your confession. He rubbed a hand over his jaw, seeming at a loss for words, and you couldn’t blame him. It was a mess, and you’d just thrown it all in his lap. Finally, he let out a deep sigh.

“So your parents have no idea.”

“No,” you admitted, voice cracking. “I’m so sorry.”

“Why?” he asked, surprised. “Why would you apologize?”

“Because... I don’t know. It’s not your problem.”

“Alright, don’t apologize,” he replied, sounding unsure of himself. “What’s your plan, then?”

You shook your head, feeling the weight of the uncertainty you’d been carrying. “I’m not sure. I thought maybe I’d figure it out over the holidays.”

Joel’s gaze lingered on your face, as if searching for something. Then, with another sigh, he leaned back against the door. “You think you can do it?”

The question stung more than you expected. “You mean, solve my life?”

He quickly clarified. “I mean, keep the secret. Pretending everything’s fine.”

You swallowed hard, looking away. “I don’t know. I guess I’ll try.”

Joel nodded slowly, pushing himself away from the doorframe. “Just... don’t push yourself too hard, alright? It’s not the end of the world. Trust me, I know.”

He turned to leave, reaching for the doorknob, but you couldn’t let him go just yet. “Joel,” you called out, your voice barely above a whisper. He paused, glancing back over his shoulder. “Please don’t say anything to my parents.”

He studied your face for a few seconds longer than you were comfortable with, then finally nodded. “I won’t.”

Relief washed over you, loosening the tightness in your chest. At least one secret would stay safe, for now.

#joel miller #the last of us #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x you #the last of us fanfic #joel miller smut #tlou fic #tlou joel #dbf!joel #age gap joel miller #fic before the sun hits #before the sun hits #capuccinodoll #pedro pascal #pedro pascal joel #pedro joel #tlou hbo

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foone · 1 year ago

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You know that post about a college sending out a sexuality survey that accidentally left off heterosexuals?

That just happened at my job with Christmas.

They sent out a list of holidays/observances this month, mentioning that:

It's HIV/AIDS awareness month

National Drunk and Drugged Driving prevention month

Hanukkah starts tomorrow

Kwanzaa week starts on December 26th

and... yep! that's all of them. There's no other holidays this month. I can't think of any.

OH WAIT!

the roman mystery cult of Mithraism had their savor born on December 25th. I don't think there are any surviving believers of Mithraism, but... you never know. might as well be more inclusive.

EDIT: WHOOPS I got the date of Hanukkah wrong. Fixed

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orinjjo-mg · 10 months ago

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The text for the check mark:

Techno was used to hibernating in winter, so he never celebrated the New Year, and did not see the point in it, but with the presence of a Dream in his life, everything changed.

Cursed by the constant use of enchanted books, the man for some reason believed that holidays, quote: "There is nothing wrong, but it is a good tradition that must be observed." Or, what Techno will never say out loud, some people just never had to celebrate something like this in a circle of not their own self-reflection and evil plans on how to make everyone live right, so he decided to add to his plans the only Non-person who can refuse him without feeling fear for his life.

Therefore, Techno was still forced to learn not to sleep for at least the whole of December in anticipation of the new year, which he, insanely tired and with a headache, did.

Dream's smile was worth it.

it was supposed to be published on New Year's Eve, but I was too mentally tired for that period of time

#check myself #c!techno #c!techoblade #dsmp #art #dream fanart #dream #dreamsmp #dsmp au #dsmp fanart #dsmp fandom #dreamnoblade #dreamwastaken #rivals duo

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greenwitchcrafts · 11 months ago

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January 2024 Witch guide

Full Moon: January 25th

New moon: January 11th

Sabbats: None

January Wolf Moon

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

Element: Air

Zodiac: Capricorn & Aquarius

Nature spirits: Brownies & Gnomes

Deities: Freya, Hera, Innana & Saraswati

Animals: Coyote & fox

Birds: Blue Jay & pheasant

Trees: Birch & Hazel

Herbs: Cones, holy thistle &marjoram

Flowers: Crocus & Snowdrop

Scents: Mimosa & musk

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Other Celebrations

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

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

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

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

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

Sources:

Farmersalmanac.com

Llewellyn's Complete Book of Correspondences by Sandra Kines

A Witch's Book of Correspondences by Viktorija Briggs

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

Wikipedia

Encyclopedia Britannica

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uyuforu · 1 month ago

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Your Favorite Season based on your Sun placement

This post is just an observation and it's just for fun, so please don't take it too seriously if it doesn't match with yours!

All pictures were found on Pinterest

Other posts you could like:

જ⁀➴ Fame & Wealth Indicators of Future Spouse based on Derivative Astrology

જ⁀➴ Meeting your Future Spouse Online Indicators

જ⁀➴ How to know when you will get married?

READINGS BOOKING OPEN

email adress: [email protected]

Soft To You presentation and Q&A ᡣ𐭩 rules ᡣ𐭩 private readings reviews

astrology menu ᡣ𐭩 tarot menu ᡣ𐭩 special astrology & tarot readings

support the creator: paypal ⟡ buy me a coffee (tip) ⟡ tipeee

Chose a Christmas theme for this post because it's my favorite time of the year.

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ I usually noticed that the House placement of your Sun often indicates the season of the year and the holiday even you like the most in the year.

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ For example, my Sun is in 10H, and 10H is ruled by Capricorn. Capricorn season is between December 22 to January 19.

I love Winter and my favorite Holiday is Christmas, which falls in the Capricorn season.

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ My Best Friend also loves Winter season, and her sun is in 9H, and this House is a Sagittarius House. Sagittarius Season is between November 22 to December 21.

Despite Sagittarius being part of Fall Seasons, this is end of it so it can also work for Winter Season.

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ If the House placement doesn't corresponds, I suggest checking sign over your Sun sign ^^ This may not be accurate for everyone but this is something I have noticed that seems be quite accurate.

⋆⁺₊❅. SPRING SEASON

❆ Aries/ 1H: March 21 to April 19

❆ Taurus/ 2H: April 20 to May 20

❆ Gemini/ 3H: May 21 to June 20

⋆⁺₊❅. SUMMER SEASON

❆ Cancer/ 4H: June 21 to July 22

❆ Leo/ 5H: July 23 to August 22

❆ Virgo/ 6H: August 23 to September 22

⋆⁺₊❅. FALL SEASON

❆ Libra/ 7H: September 23 to October 22

❆ Scorpio/ 8H: October 23 to November 21

❆ Sagittarius/ 9H: November 22 to December 21

⋆⁺₊❅. WINTER SEASON

❆ Capricorn/ 10H: December 22 to January 19

❆ Aquarius/ 11H: January 20 to February 18

❆ Pisces/ 12H: February 19 to March 20

Thank you for reading!

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back to index ; ask ; request ; rules

#astrology #astro #astro observations #astro notes #astrology notes #astro community #astro tumblr #astro placements #astro blog #astroblr #astrology blog #astrology community #astrology observations #astrology signs

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copias-sewer-rat · 11 months ago

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Naughty Presents: Papa Emeritus I x AFAB!Reader

Summary: During the holidays Primo isn't as busy taking care of his dear flowers, but that doesn't mean he isn't going to ensure that you are taken care of.

Words: 6K

Warnings: smut, minors DNI, use of sex toys (sucker, dildo, bullet vibrator, bunny vibrator, cuffs and nipple pincers), edging, orgasm denial, slight roleplay (just a bit), cunnilingus, afab! reader, p in v action, grinding, over stimulation, uncomfortable possition, aftercare, bad translated Italian.

Available on Ao3

Secondo (Ao3)

Terzo (Ao3)

Copia (Ao3)

Author's note: First day of the XXXMas at the Ministry series, a wonderful collab involving @ghulehunknown, @molly-ghuleh, @bupia and myself. Please stay tunned for their stories comming the following days, I will update this here story as they post so you can go read. Extra thanks to @bupia for her amazing job on the graphics that come along these fics, absolutely stunning.

It is peaceful. December in the Abbey has always been. The view from your room is pure bliss. Untouched white snow covering the gardens, the small lights from the streetlamps casting a warm tone to it, almost like clouds when the sun sets. At a distance you observe the greenhouse, the place where your amore spends most of his time, that is when he isn’t covering you with kisses and adoring your body. It feels melancholic now. There isn’t much to do now for him now and you know he is eager to return to his duties, his green thumb burning with desire to plant and to take care of his beloved flowers once again.

He has always had a gentle touch, putting all of himself into the things that he loves, his brothers, his flowers, you… Now that the holiday season has begun, Primo has come up with a plan to take care of il suo fiore preferito.

Sitting next to the window, very close to your bedroom chimney, you hear a shuffle. You had expected for Primo not to return for at least a couple more hours, having absented himself saying that he had an urgent meeting with his brothers about the New Year’s party. Maybe it is your imagination playing games with you, maybe you are hearing the crackling of the fire and falling asleep. You certainly feel tired, feeling too comfy in the pillow and blanket fort you have made for yourself. The warm silence fills the room once again and you close your eyes briefly. You begin drifting off to sleep without even noticing it.

The image of Primo pops in front of you almost instantly in your mind, and you feel the outside warmth spreading inside of you, making you blush as he stares at you lovingly. He is so handsome, you think. His shinny long white hair falling free over his face and shoulders, his painted face offering the warmest of smiles. Primo gets closer to you, enveloping your form into his, caressing your back with his long and skilled hands, slowly descending to your butt. He kisses your face, every inch of it and starts to travel to your neck, kissing your pulse as a moan escapes your lips while you feel his pressure on top of you. His kisses become more fervent, more desperate and you cannot avoid gripping the back of his shirt. You can feel him so clearly, his heat, his fragrance, — a mixture of his favourite tea and the herbal flowery scent that follows him everywhere he goes — his mouth leaving hickeys all over and then his sharp canines are biting into you with force, making you gasp and wake.

You jolt awake and a pair of hands grab your sides gently.

“Mio sole, are you okay?” Primo stands right in front of you, just as he had been in your dream. His hair falling in the exact same places, the same warm and content smile lighting up the dimness of the room. You wonder if you this is still a dream, but Primo grips your sides with more force as a response of your silence and you know this is the real deal.

“I am fine, caro. I just had a bit of a weird dream…” You confess with tiredness in your voice.

“Davvero? Would you like to tell me about it?” Primo asks, and a slight blush creeps to your cheeks. “Cuore mio, I heard your moans… I thought you were having fun without me, and that cannot be.” He smirks showing his teeth and the slight blush turns into a full-on red face.

“Well… It wasn’t without you…” You look at him, biting your lower lip.

“Ah.. now I am intrigued. Perhaps you might want to tell me while you open your presents?” You blink and see a lustful glint in Primo’s green eye.

“What’s this about? Dear, it is not even Christmas yet.” The question falls on deaf ears as Primo extends his hand for you to take.

You rise from your seat, leaving the comfort of your nest to follow your lover. His hand takes yours gently, rubbing his thumb over the top in a calming motion. There is nothing to fear, you know for sure, you trust Primo with your body and soul.

“Close your eyes, mio sole.” He says and you obediently oblige. “That’s it, amoruccio. Let me lead you and in the meantime, tell me about this dream of yours sì?” A couple of hands grab your sides to guide you, hands you would let do anything and everything to you…

“Well, it was nothing out of the ordinary…” Primo hums “you were kissing me, touching me all over…” He taps your hip, signaling you to continue “and then you bit me with force, probably making me bleed, but the pain felt… nice? Like it added to the general pleasure, you know?” You hear a small laughter coming from him, he is not mocking you, but there is something funny going on, probably related to your surprise, so you just hold your question for a bit longer.

With a few more steps you feel your surroundings changing. You are still in your shared apartment but you are changing rooms. Primo’s hands go up and down your sides reassuringly, and you giggle ticklishly.

“Mio sole, mi dispiace, please could you wait here for a moment?”

“Of course, caro.” You say, eyes still closed.

Primo moves away from you and you already miss him. You hear shuffling, rustling and clicking, which suddenly turns you into a ball of pure nervousness. ‘What is he up to?’ you think. The image you see with your close eyelids suddenly turns orange, and then you see orbs of light dancing around. You know where you are now, the clear image of your living room appears in your mind, the long green velvety sofa, the dark brick chimney, the tall bookshelves full of books and the enormous Christmas tree situated in the middle of the room.

From a distance Primo calls your name, telling you to open your eyes and once again you oblige. The sight you encounter is nothing short of mouth opening. Everything is exactly as you had pictured it but for all of the new details in front of the tree. Primo is there, dressed in a red Santa Claus outfit, without the beard that is as his makeup graces his beautiful aging features. But everything else is on point: the hat, the suit, the leather boots and gloves, he looks fantastic! That’s not the only thing that catches your attention though. He is seated on a chair you have never seen before, it almost looks like a throne, and around it there are several presents wrapped in beautiful paper, all of them decorated with neatly handmade bows.

Your mouth opens at the sight. You are no stranger to get surprises from Primo, but this is something else.

“What-What is this?” Words fail you, you are too in shock to speak properly and Primo gives you a low chuckle.

“I was in a festive mood and thought of a way to thank you for being you, so incredibly amazing and perfect you.” The blush returns to you once more. “Come close, Primo Claus has some presents for you.” You almost cannot process what is going on, but instinctively put a foot in front of the other and get before him. “Come on, sit on my lap and tell Primo Claus how naughty you have been this year.” He says with a low tone and you blink several times, raising your brow incredulously and pressing your lips together, trying not to laugh. This is so out of character for him, which does not mean that it is not turning you on like hell. In fact, you can feel the wetness of your core staring to be bothering, your previous dream started the fire and now you feel like you are going up in flames.

The glint in Primo’s gaze is even stronger now, undressing you as if you were a present yourself, so neatly wrapped and ready to be teared up bit by bit. Agonizingly slow you sit down, holding Primo’s gaze as you do so, not intending to be the only one that is going to suffer tonight. You finally sit on his lap and wiggle a bit, trying to find a comfortable position, or that’s the lie you tell Primo when he asks you to stop teasing and that’s when you feel him already half hard under you. Once settled, Primo speaks:

“Okay, mio sole. Tell me, have you been good or naughty this year?” Trying to hold your laughter, you rise a hand and put it covering your mouth as if you were thinking very hard about it.

“Oh, Primo Claus, I think I have been very naughty this year…” You confess, your tone slow and sensual, trying to tease him as much as he is teasing you.

“Davvero? Tell me. What naughty things have you done this year?” Primo asks raising a hand and grabbing your chin so you don’t advert our gaze as you speak.

“Well, you see, my partner is a very horny old man and so we have done it everywhere, and I mean everywhere: the kitchen, the bedroom, this same living room in different areas, the bathroom, the closet, the gardens, the classrooms, the chapels, the confessional booths, his office, in some corridors as well…” As you continue your list, you feel Primo’s breath deepen, his heart beating faster and his cock getting harder.

“I get it, but lucky for you, Primo Claus does not reward people who have been nice, I reward naughty people… I get them as many presents as their horny hearts might desire. But you, amore, you are a special case because I want to try all these presents with you, right now.” There it is, that is what all of this was about, but you cannot complain. In fact, you are eager to follow along. The only proof that you need to know that you are going to enjoy this is Primo’s almost erect cock pressing on your butt.

“Really? Presents? For me?” You question with and innocent tone and doe eyes.

“Of course, I couldn’t leave my amore without presents…” Primo says as he leans down and grabs a medium size package, handing it to you with a toothy grin. “Open it!”

With shaky hands you tear the paper, the butterflies in your stomach becoming more intense when the first present is revealed: a couple of red puffy handcuffs.

“Primo? What-?” The question dies on you as he suddenly puts his lips on top of yours, kissing you fervently, his tongue entering your mouth, taking advantage of your surprised expression. His hands go directly to your back, holding you in place and yours travel to the back of his neck, leaving the box over your lap, toying with his platinum locks as he greedily explores your mouth.

“Amore, these presents are not my gift to you. Today, my gift to you is immeasurable pleasure. You are going to cum over and over on top of me, and I am not going to stop until I know that you are completely and utterly satisfied.” Primo says as he parts from you, his voice a whisper against your lips, and you gulp hard. “Do you want that, mio sole?”

“I do, please, Primo… I want it all.” You breath and he hums.

“Bene” With haste, Primo takes the box from your lap and opens it, revealing a pair of cute puffy handcuffs. They are red, which you feel he choose because of the holidays, to pair with his outfit. Discarding the box to the side he holds your sides and motions for you to stand up. “This is the only time you are going to stand up until we finish with this amore…” The look on his eyes is of pure lust, if he was undressing you before, now he is fucking you with his gaze. “Be good, undress for me.” Primo says, spreading his legs so you can see the bulge on his pants.”

Without a word, every piece of clothing gets discarded to the floor. Primo groans as he looks at you, grabbing his crotch to offer some comfort to his aching cock. He was sure that he was going to be hard during the whole ordeal, but he didn’t take into account how the dominance of it all was going to make him so fucking desperate to fuck you. Today, however, is all about your pleasure. He will find a way later to ease the need.

In a couple of minutes you are completely bare before him, the heat from the chimney not doing much as your nipples get rock hard in the winter cold. Primo eyes you up and down, his chest rising and falling slowly. A few seconds later he motions for you to get close and resume your previous position on his lap. Once settled he shows you the cuffs, opens them and lets you touch them.

“I want this to be pleasurable for you, my dear. If you don’t feel good or you want me to stop, please let me know, sì?” You nod with a smile, trying to look calm but you can feel yourself vibrating. The feeling of Primo’s hand on your back, the texture of the velvety suit all over your naked body and his breath hitting your neck are driving you insane. And he hasn’t done anything to you! “Arms back, amore, I am going to cuff you up.” Obediently, your hands are set comfortably at the low of your back, almost touching your ass. The cuffs restrain your movements but you don’t feel them tight, they are quite nice actually, the synthetic hair that covers them softens the rigidness of the metal and you appreciate that Primo has chosen this pair in particular. “Now that you are tied up you cannot open your presents, so I hope you don’t mind if I do it for you?” Primo asks with a grin.

“It is okay… I don’t mind.” It comes out in a whisper, almost out of breath as your chest rises and falls in anticipation. The power that he holds right now is making you feel so vulnerable, so small under him, but you love it.

Primo grabs another present, a bit larger this time. Setting it on your lap and tearing the paper. This time the present is a clitoral sucker. There is no pause as he gets the second toy out of its box.

“Papa, those toys come without charge, you know that right?” You ask teasingly.

“Good thing then that I charged every single one of them before I wrapped them, huh amoruccio?” ‘He is really committed, dear Satanas’ you think. ‘There is no escape from this one.’

Without warning he starts kissing your neck, licking that same spot you had dreamed about minutes earlier, now feeling absolutely real. His tongue is so hot, so wet and you regret having your hands tied up as you cannot touch him at all. As best as you can you wiggle to get closer to his body but he stops kissing you.

“Sì, be naughty if you want your present my love…” You face finds the crook of his neck and suddenly a click sound makes you jump slightly. With his free hand, Primo parts your legs and makes you recline slightly so he can have better access to your already dripping cunt. “Stay still.” You turn slightly to see the humming toy approach the place where you need it most. Your forehead is pressed against Primo’s neck, the anticipation building your arousal until he places the sucker to your clit.

The vibrations shake you instantly, the pressure to your clit immediately traveling through your entire body. Your legs feel like gelatin and you know you won’t be able to hold your first orgasm for long. The intense tightening of your abdomen getting more and more difficult to handle as the sucker deals with the bundle of pure lust in between your legs.

“Caro, please, if you don’t stop- ah- I am- I- am going to cum so fast, please… AH-” The scorching heat inside of your dreads to escape so quickly but Primo grabs your side, the feeling of the leather soothing you but doing nothing you alleviate the tension building up inside of you.

“I need to cum, Primo, please, let me cum, don’t take it away, please…”

“That cannot be, we have so many things to try… This was only the appetizer…” As the sentence is finished he takes the sucker from your clit, making you launch yourself forward seeking the contact of it. Gently, Primo holds you and leaves the toy on the floor, grabbing another package. You pant, the air does not stay in your lungs for long and Primo chuckles. “So worked up already huh? Hope you can take all my presents mio sole…”

Slowly, tearing up the paper once more of an even larger package, the third present is revealed before your eyes: a vibrating wand. Your mouth waters, the aching in your core needing it desperately and involuntarily your hips thrust forward, but you cannot move that much more being as restrained as you are. No words are uttered this time, Primo knows what you need and he is going to give it you. Once it is on, he gets the wand closer to your core, not touching it, but looking at it you can feel the vibrations all through you.

“Primo, please. I need it. Please, per favore, make me cum…” You shift slightly, rubbing his erect member, teasing as much as you can so he gives it to you already, but the plan doesn’t go as planned when he withdraws the toy from the proximity of your core.

“I told you to be naughty, not a teaser my dear. In the end, I am the one bestowing these gifts to you, you need to treat me good, sì?” Tears form in your eyes and you nod.

“Yes, I am sorry, I’ll be good.”

“Davvero? Then moan for me, my love…” Suddenly, the wand is pressed against your clit without a warning. The vibrations stronger than before, the tightening in your abdomen quickly approaching as you moan for your lover.

“Primo, ah- ah- fuck! So good! Don’t stop please, don’t- I- I am going to cum! Please keep-keep going, ah- fuck, fuck, fuck-”

“Do it for me my dear, cum now for your Papa…” and oh Satanas, you do, so hard. Your whole body spams on top of him and you involuntarily rub your ass against his hardness, making him moan as well. “Cazzo, my love, that was powerful… you feel so good on top of me, fuck!”

Trying to regain your breath, Primo turns off the toy and leaves it next to the sucker. Immediately after another package is on his hands while you try to compose yourself back.

“This is a special one, we haven’t tried something like this before, but you are going to look so good with it on…” He says, breaking the paper on top of your lap once more.

The toy in front of you is not familiar to you, but the form tells you everything you need to know. The picture in the box shows a necklace supporting two chains that end on some type of pincers, and you blush instantly. He takes it out and puts the velvety choker around your neck as if it were the most beautiful diamond necklace. Then, he grabs the two pincers and shows them to you.

“These won’t hurt, but if you feel too uncomfortable, please, let me know.”

“Okay…” You say in a low tone, almost embarrassed of how easily Primo can make you tremble so much while being so gentle with you.

“MMMMMMMMM!!!” you hiss from the contact in pleasure as he pinches one of your nipples, rubbing your core against his leg in response, coating it all with your juices. His eyes go wide open, he had never heard you moan like that. Then, he goes for the other and now you scream from how the pinch-y feeling on your very sensitive nips is making you want to choke on Primo’s cock. The pressure feels so nice against your swollen nips, but you need so much fucking more. You continue rubbing yourself on the velvety fabric of Primo’s pants, chasing your pleasure once again. Primo lets you move briefly, the chains around your chest and your reddened nipples have him hypnotized, how they hug your body, how the metal slaps your skin and gets stuck where you are sweating. The beads of sweat mixing with the shinning metal and the swollen and slightly bruised skin, all that combined with your desperate motions and sounds…. he wants to fuck you senseless, no, he needs it. You are his present and you just got a nice little bow to go along how fucking sinful you look right now. His cock rubs slightly against your ass and he doesn’t stop you this time, he needs some type of relief, but he doesn’t want to be greedy. This is entirely about you, he remembers, so he reconsiders and grabs your shoulders, stopping you instantly.

“Cuore mio, as much as I would like to fuck you until you could not move for a few days, e credimi, lo voglio, cazzo… This is about you…”

He is so cute, he really wants to prioritize your pleasure, but you have other plans. You don’t really want to do have all the fun alone, even if he is the one administrating your pleasure, Christmas is about sharing after all.

“Give me another present, I crave it. I need to cum again… Primo please…”

“Peccaminoso Satana, I am going to give you everything you need…” Primo grabs present number five and tears the paper without hesitation. This time it is a normal bullet vibrator.

“This one is just to get you ready for the rest, love, we won’t be using it as much…”

As Primo gets the vibrator closer to your opening you cannot avoid the shiver that runs through your spine. The over stimulation of your first orgasm still sending waves of pleasure and spasms all over your body. Involuntarily, trying to avoid the contact with the toy, you wiggle backwards on Primo’s lap. Noticing your sudden attempt to flee he tightens his grab around you, keeping you in place.

“Love, you have to be brave. It was only one orgasm… I know by experience that you can give me more. Per favore, permettimi di farti venire…” There is no need for you to understand what he is saying because you know and your core twitches in delight, the over stimulation from before turning once again into the need to be filled and taken care of. So, silently you buckle your hips forward once more to the same position as before, your cuffed hands pressing on Primo’s thigh, making him shiver under you. He is so desperate for any type of pressure that the sightless touch from his amore makes him jump.

Accepting your fate, you fold your knees and spread your legs open, letting your cunt free for Primo to see. From his position, he can see your folds glistening, your clit engorged and red and your entrance so deliciously looking, so ready to be fucked. Primo licks his lips, he is so thirsty for you, he just wants to put his face between your legs and eat you out like the most delicious Christmas feast. Then, he catches you looking at him with puppy eyes, you have been left there waiting, how rude of him, he couldn’t never deny you anything.

Primo opens his legs slightly so your butt leans on the more than spacious throne’s cushion, which makes you fall back, but thankfully Primo’s gloved hand pushes on your back slightly, placing itself on the broad of it. When he looks at you for confirmation for him to continue you nod, and he guides the bullet dildo to your entrance. When it finally goes in, it opens your folds with a wet sound that makes you moan. The toy isn’t specially big, but its coldness, the pressure on your nipples and your previous orgasm makes it feel so fucking good. Primo follows a rhythmic pattern in and out, in and out, your core sucking in the toy with ease… maybe too much ease. You need something much bigger, Primo thinks, something that opens you up just like his cock does.

With a pop sound, Primo gets the dildo out of you and in return you mewl sweetly, begging for its return. You are so horny, all this teasing, this denial, the anticipation and even the slight feeling of despair, it is making you so fucking horny. You just want to be fucked over and over and over and over.

As if reading your mind, Primo gets another present, the biggest yet. He catches you looking at it and rises the still wrapped package. As he does so, you take notice of a folded piece of the wrapping paper that hangs loosely. Straightening your back and using only your teeth, you grab the paper and go down, tearing it open with your mouth. Primo observes attentively, his aching cock more and more in need of attention. Waves of memories come back to him of you using your mouth so sweetly and skillfully on his leaking shaft. He thanks the Dark Lord every single day for bringing you into his life, filling every single aspect of his life with your light and your warmth, you are his sole after all, and he will ache for you forever.

The next present is a bunny vibrator, also red, Primo has really committed to the holiday theme. Your mouth waters, so ready to feel what Primo has to offer. As a token of your appreciation you kiss him, hot and sloppily, trying not to fall from your position and he reciprocates eagerly. Every movement you do, every look, every moan it is driving him closer to the edge, and now… this…

While kissing you, he positions the dildo to your entrance, getting the clitoral vibrator also in its place. When he turns it on you moan in his mouth, clenching your hands on his thigh, feeling the waves of shock on your swollen clit. Primo takes the chance of your open mouth to bite your bottom lip and enter you with the dildo at the same time and, oh, you could die right there and then and thank Satan for this wonderful gift of lust.

“FUCKING HELL, PRIMO! l-love! It is so good! ah, mmmm” You scream once he let off your lip. The wet sounds of your walls sucking the dildo are music to Primo’s ears. This is exactly what he wanted and yet… he feels like a fucking selfish bastard for wanting you to make those sounds because of his cock, not some toy. The whole point of this was to pleasure you, but he can do that himself. Now he feels a bit distraught, so he is not going to stop until you beg to be fucked by him, no matter how long it takes.

He doesn’t know, but that is what you want as well, you love how he is making you feel, how much he cares about your pleasure, but you also need him so deep inside you. “Aah, ah, ah, AGH AGH!” You scream with each pound into your core, every thrust deeper than the last. It doesn’t get as deep as Primo’s dick, but it is doing its job nonetheless.

“I am going to cum, holy shit, fuck, fuck, Primo-” He is about to loose it, your ass is grinding his cock, and he might cum just because of that. “Please, oh shit, oh fuck, fuck me, please fucking fuck me I need your cock, fuck!” You almost cry, the chains on your chest hitting your sweaty chest, your arms starting to go numb, it is all too much.

“I need to fuck you too, mio sole. But be good, cum for me first, sì? I want to see your pussy clenching this fucking toy mhm? Think it is my cock, then I will give you the real deal.” The need for him to fuck you sends you into a powerful orgasm, one that Primo guides with the toy, putting more pleasure on your clit, making you even squirt all over his pants.

“Cuore mio, così fottutamente peccaminoso, ti scoperò finché non lo farai intorno al mio cazzo.” He whispers with a grave voice that makes you dizzy. You are spent, your orgasm hitting you so hard that you even regret slightly having asked Primo for more, because as you begin to breath normally once again he picks you up as best as he can and sits you on the throne. Not only that, but he unleashes your hands for a second before asking you to rise them over your head. With your limbs hurting you do as he says, grabbing the top part of the throne, and right there Primo locks your hands together again with the pink cuffs. Once you are settled, you observe a couple of unopened presents around you. Wow, you are really THAT horny for each other, huh?

“I need to see you, see the mess that you have made just for me…” Your legs hurt, everything hurts, but the need for Primo wins every single time. As best as you can you spread your legs open, letting them hang over the armrests of the throne. There, he sees your beautiful cunt, swollen, glistening with your release and he kneels there, smelling your juices. He is so fucking hard, but first he needs this, he needs his mouth on you, to taste how sweet your nectar is.

Primo dives right in, his hands at each of your legs, supporting your effort. His hooked nose bruises your clit in the most delicious way, and even if your body feels so tired, with a couple of licks from his skilled tongue you can feel the tightness in your belly starting to build up again. He drinks from you, his face pure lust as he looks at you, lost in your own pleasure, and you wonder how he is holding without touching his erection. He won’t strain from his path, right now being lost in your perfectly sweet cunt.

“Love, please, I need you buried inside of me, give me your cock, scoparmi… per favore, caro…” He needs nothing more. As a man possessed, Primo gets up on his feet and with a dark look starts to work on his pants, still drenched with your arousal and his paints messed from your juices, some of them probably staining your thighs and folds. A satisfied moan escapes his lips as the air of the room hits his cock. Right then you realize how bad he must feel. His dick is so red and swollen, the precum drenching his whole length, glistening like a melting popsicle waiting for a hungry mouth to suck on it.

“Quando lucifero creò il peccato della carne essi pensarono al tuo corpo e ai molti modi in cui poteva essere adorato. Sto per godermi di nuovo il suo dono come se fosse la prima volta, tutto per me.” He groans in quick Italian and you moan in return. You don’t understand a word but, by Satan, does it turn you on when he is so lost in his carnal desire that all that comes out is Italian praises and curses.

“Caro, please, please…”

“Come si desidera…” And with that he aligns himself, hissing from the contact with your cunt “Così fottutamente bagnato, così caldo…” and he goes in with a single motion, slowly, enjoying how your walls clench around his length. All the time he had been outside from you while you enjoyed your present it was killing him, he realizes that now. His place is inside of you, beside you, always with you, nowhere else.

He bottoms in, hitting your cervix on the first try.

“Fucking hell, dear Lucifer… please, oh, please!” You don’t know what you are asking for at this point.

“Dammi un altro, so che puoi farlo, un altro per il tuo Papa” Primo starts to move at a quick pace, he knows he isn’t going to take him long to become undone and he also knows you will be undone soon as well.

There are no words between you now, just pure horny nonsense and the sound of skin against skin, wet and hot and fucking pornographic. Your hands hurt, your knuckles turn white from the grip on the throne and your head goes backwards, your eyes following to the back of your head. Primo grabs your thighs and rises your lower part, your back arching in a very uncomfortable way, but you don’t mind, this way he has a better angle.

He knows how to fuck you so well and you take it the same way, the stretch of your walls making you scream his name over and over so you just open your mouth in awe and close your eyes, lost in pure bliss.

“C-cum for me, mio sole. I am so close too, so… fucking… agh… close.”

With that there is no way of stopping your impending climax, and you do, once again squirting violently around his length. Primo pumps in and out of you, getting his cock almost out of you with every single thrust as he reaches his own orgasm then, his cum mixing with your own release, ropes of his seed flying to your stomach and ever your chest.

“Cazzo! So fucking perfect for me, the- the most perfect creature in the entire world…fuck……..”

Once he is done, Primo falls forward, letting go of your legs but still inside of you, his length going soft. Both your breaths are uneven, you are specially tired after so many earth-shattering orgasms. Sleep catching up quickly with you even in your uncomfortable possition. When Primo takes notice of you almost falling asleep from pure exhaustion, he collects himself, sets you free and lets the chain around your chest fall to the ground, making you groan as thanks, coherent words impossible to be formed right now.

Gently, he grabs your naked form, pulls you to your feet and accompanies you to your shared bathroom where he draws a warm bath to clean you whole. The steam and the warmth calm your aching muscles, making you almost fall asleep right there, but Primo doesn’t let you. He washes you, every single sore part treated with the upmost care and you thank the very day you met him because he is the best present you could have ever gotten. Clearly, he thinks the same as he tucks you into bed, kissing your cheek, looking at you with such love and affection, wishing nothing more than to spend the rest of his life by your side.

----

Italian translations:

amore: love

il suo fiore preferito: his favourite flower

mio sole: my sun

Davvero?: really?

Cuore mio: my heart

amoruccio: my little love

mi dispiace: I’m sorry

bene: good

e credimi, lo voglio, cazzo: and believe me, I fucking want that

peccaminoso Satana: sinful Satan

Per favore, permettimi di farti venire: Please, allow me to make you cum

così fottutamente peccaminoso, ti scoperò finché non lo farai intorno al mio cazzo: so fucking sinful, I am going to fuck you until you do that around my cock

scoparmi… per favore, caro: fuck me, please, dear

Quando Lucifero creò il peccato della carne essi pensarono al tuo corpo e ai molti modi in cui poteva essere adorato. Sto per godermi di nuovo il suo dono come se fosse la prima volta, tutto per me, sempre così buono per me: When Lucifer created the sin of the flesh they thought about your body and the many ways it could be adored. I am about to enjoy his gift once again as if it was the first time, all for me.

come si desidera: as you wish

così fottutamente bagnato, così caldo: so fucking wet, so hot

dammi un altro, so che puoi farlo, un altro per il tuo Papa: give me one more, I know you can do it, one more for your Papa

----

Taglist:

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#xxxmasattheministry #merryghostmas #merryghostmas2023 #the band ghost #the band ghost fanfiction #papa emeritus i #primo emeritus #primo emeritus smut #papa primo x afab!reader #primo x afab!reader

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clarisse0o · 4 months ago

Text

Camp Wiegman-Part 24

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternative Universe : Military School

Words : 5k

Masterlist

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Thursday, December 17th; 7:00 PM - Ona and Alexia's Room.

I collapse face down on my bed as soon as I step into my room. All I can think about is being on vacation. It’s about to become reality. To be honest, I’m struggling to grasp that starting tomorrow, I’ll be home for two whole weeks. It feels strange, but it’s definitely going to do me good. These last few weeks have been intense, and I really need a break. I have a splitting headache from all the constant studying. It feels like a hammer pounding in my head without rest. I just got back from Bronze after studying for my last exam, which is tomorrow. I’m relieved to see the end in sight because it was turning into a real disaster. The pressure and anxiety of not succeeding took over, and I started working more than I should have. I felt like the study sessions at Bronze weren’t enough anymore. I became obsessed, to the point of breaking curfew multiple times to study late into the night. The lack of sleep started affecting my behavior. I became unintentionally aggressive, which caught the attention of my supervisor. She noticed the bags under my eyes and figured out what was going on. Let’s just say she gave me a good scolding. Her decision was final, no matter what I said. She took all my study materials out of my room to control my workload. She almost punished me, but she held back when she saw my state. Our relationship has taken another step forward. I think she’s changed since she asked me to call her by her first name outside of school. She’s more open than before. Sometimes, I even call her Lucy when our study sessions run late, and she doesn’t mind. It’s become much more pleasant to spend time with her. She’s reached the point where she can tell what I’m thinking or feeling just by observing me. It’s very unsettling to be read like that. When she realized my problem with studying, she immediately found the right words to reassure me. Ever since she took my things on Friday night, she’s been coming by my room every evening to make sure I get back into a good sleep routine. Still, I’m mentally exhausted. All these exams were too much, and I’m starting to miss my family. I haven’t seen them in a month, hence my eagerness for the holidays.

“Are you done with your revisions at Bronze?”

Alexia snaps me out of my drowsiness. I must have dozed off without realizing it because I didn’t even hear her come in. I groan when she flops down on my back without any consideration. She kisses my cheek before resting her head on mine. Without knowing it, Alexia has started to break down my boundaries around physical contact.

“I came to get you for dinner. You’re coming, right? The others are already there.”

“Yeah,” I mumble into my pillow. “I’m starving. But I’m coming back here afterward.”

“Don’t worry, I was planning on coming back here too.”

“Come on, get off me!” I say, wriggling. “I’m starving!”

I laugh as she teases me by pressing down on me even harder. She finally gets up, but not before giving my butt a playful slap.

“Hey!” I exclaim, feigning indignation.

“Oops,” she says with an innocent look.

I smile and roll my eyes. Without her, I would have probably sunk into a deep depression. I was so angry with Lucy that first night she took my stuff that I was mad at the whole world. Alexia was there that night, and since then, she hasn’t let a single evening pass without making me laugh. She helped me think about other things, and that’s how I came to understand Lucy’s actions. To succeed, I also needed to learn to let go and have some fun. And that’s what I’ve been doing with Alexia. We’ve relaxed a lot, and she even took the opportunity to share new stories from her childhood. I took the chance to tell her about my relationship with Mapi as well. I had promised her a while ago that I would talk about it, so I did. Alexia is someone I really appreciate. She’s strong, and she has such a contagious joy. With those thoughts in mind, we head to the cafeteria in good spirits.

“Have you heard from Mapi these last few days?”

“Not really. She’s also busy studying. Why?”

“Just wondering.”

I don’t press further as we enter the cafeteria. We grab our trays and join our friends who are already seated. I greet the people I haven’t seen yet today. Since our day in the snow, our group sometimes expands at meals with the addition of girls who joined the snowball fight the other day. That’s the case tonight with Ella and Alessia joining us. They’ve taken the usual spots where Ale and I sit, but we don’t mind and take the seats opposite them. Over time, I’ve learned that Alessia is actually Leah’s sister. I figured it wasn’t a coincidence that I get along so well with her. Looking back, I realize they have quite similar personalities. They’re both very calm and thoughtful. Alessia once confided that she thought I had a crush on her sister. I quickly reassured her that we’re just good friends and that it would never go beyond that. I focus on the conversation going around the table. It’s about our upcoming vacation. Everyone is really excited. I get it; I feel the same way. I’m starting to get impatient for tomorrow. I can finally breathe and see my loved ones again.

“Do you already have plans for New Year’s, Ona?” Alba asks me.

“Not really. I guess I’ll spend it with Mapi, but we haven’t talked about it yet.”

“See, I told you she’d already have something planned,” his sister comments.

“Well, technically, nothing’s set yet. Why?”

They exchange a knowing look before Leah decides to speak up.

“To be honest, we usually spend it together here in Manchester. We were hoping you’d join us if you didn’t have any plans.”

“Really? Where do you do it?”

“It’s at our place,” Alessia explains. “We live here, and our parents usually go celebrate New Year’s with their friends.”

“I see. Is this the first time you’ve done this?” I ask curiously.

“No, this will be the third year we’ve done it together,” Ale responds. “It’s the only holiday we can all spend together, so we make the most of it.”

I nod, understanding perfectly. This idea excites me a lot. It would be so cool to finally be able to spend an evening with them outside of school. It’s definitely better than spending a drunken night at Mapi’s friend’s place. Still, I don’t want to leave Mapi behind. We’ve barely spent any time together since I’ve been here. Besides, we’ve always celebrated New Year’s together ever since we met. I know she’s expecting us to spend this one together too. We don’t even need to talk about it to know that.

“I would love to come, but I can’t leave Mapi alone,” I share.

“Why don’t you bring her along?” Alba suggests.

“That’s true, it’s a good idea,” Ale adds. “I really want to meet her after everything you’ve told me about her. Do you think she’d agree?”

“I see why you suddenly asked if I’d heard from her,” I say with an amused smile.

“Yes, well,” she rolls her eyes with a knowing smile. “I wanted to know if you’d already talked about it. Seriously, would it be possible? It’s a bit of a crazy plan, but doable, right?”

“I don’t know. It’s going to be complicated. She has a girlfriend, and I doubt she’d want to celebrate without her,” I grimace. “I’ll ask her and see what she says. Anyway, I want to come, but not without her.”

“She seems important to you,” Lotte comments.

“Well… yeah. She’s my best friend, you know. She’ll always come first.”

“See, I told you she’d say yes,” Patri laughs. “It’ll be awesome if you come. You’re part of the group now.”

I smile sincerely at her. It’s true that I’ve really integrated into their group by now. They’ve been very welcoming from the start, unlike me, who only did things my way. Now, it’s very different. A real friendship has formed between them and me. I was about to respond when someone taps me on the head with an object that echoes above me. I instinctively duck my head to avoid the attack, even though it doesn’t really help. When I try to turn around to see who it is, two large hands on my shoulders stop me.

“What has Mapi done now?”

I relax and lean back against Lucy, recognizing her voice. I expected to see her tonight before curfew.

“Nothing,” I giggle. “We were talking about New Year’s.”

“Oh. I thought you’d heard from her.”

“Briefly this morning, to talk about tomorrow. By the way, she sends her regards,” I say, lifting my head to finally see her.

“That’s nice of her.”

“Yeah. Did you want something specific?”

“I wanted to return the pen you left on my desk. It would be a shame to take your last exams without it, right?”

I smile as I take it back when she dangles it in front of my nose. What would I do without her? Probably not much. I can’t say it’s my lucky pen because I don’t believe in that sort of thing. However, I’m the kind of person who doesn’t like to change their habits once I’ve found something that works for me. That’s exactly how it is with this pen. I would have been frustrated to have to use another one for my last exam.

“Oh, thanks! You didn’t have to. Are you also returning my notes?”

“You need to stop taking advantage of my kindness. I’ll give them back tomorrow.”

“What kindness?” I laugh. “I’m old enough to manage my own sleep schedule.”

“No, you’re not. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have taken your notes.”

I sigh, crossing my arms. Well, I can’t complain too much. It’s true that she’s become nicer than before, even though she still treats me like a kid in some ways. It’s really frustrating, but I guess I’m partly to blame. She knows why she’s keeping my stuff. I would have been tempted to study tonight otherwise.

“Fine, I’ve recovered,” I protest.

“Ona,” she scolds. “I should make you run laps to tire you out tonight.”

“Actually, I think I’ll be fine,” I grimace.

“That’s what I thought. Everything will be fine, anyway. You’re ready.”

“Yeah,” I sigh. “If you say so.”

“I do say so,” she confirms. “Alright, I’ll come by your room before curfew.”

“Wait,” I quickly try to stop her.

“What? Hurry up, Engen is waiting for me.”

I turn to see that, indeed, she’s waiting at their table. I’m not used to sitting with my back to them. I like being able to see Lucy when we’re eating at the same time.

“Ona?” she calls out.

“Sorry… Um… Actually, I have a headache. I was wondering if you could bring me an aspirin or something?”

“Is it just a headache?” she frowns.

I smile when she instinctively places her hand on my forehead. Since my withdrawal and the flu, she worries about every little thing I might have. Well, it’s true that I’m still a bit fragile, but not to that extent.

“I just have a migraine. It’s probably from the studying.”

“And you dare ask me to give back your notes?”

“Oh, come on,” I say, feeling my cheeks flush slightly. “Can you bring me something then?”

“I’m not a walking pharmacy, but I’ll bring you something later.”

“Cool, thanks! And enjoy your meal.”

"Thanks, same to you."

She ruffles my hair before heading back to her table. I place my pen on the tray and watch it for a moment. My smile widens at the thought that she really knows me well.

"Well, you've got quite the bond," Patri chuckles.

"Hmm, if you say so," I shrug.

"It's true," Ella insists. "You're the only student she treats like that."

"We also spend a lot of time together," I shrug again.

"That's for sure," Ale laughs. "You're with her more often than with me!"

"Yeah, anyway, can we get back to the New Year's topic? If you want, we can call Mapi together later," I suggest.

"Oh yeah! That's a great idea, that way we can ask her directly!"

"That's exactly what I was thinking."

Even from a distance, my best friend manages to be loved. I'll keep to myself the fact that Mapi was jealous of Ale at first. She joked about it, but I know she was genuinely jealous. Still, I have no doubt they would get along. They're both so wild when they want to be, and it could cause some real chaos.

"By the way, how does Bronze know her?" Ale arches an eyebrow.

I freeze at her question. Damn, I hadn’t thought about that. You can’t really say they know each other. They’ve only talked once when I had a rough night. Otherwise, it often happens that Bronze comes to my room when I’m on the phone with her on the weekends. So, they greet each other, and sometimes they even tease each other (usually about me).

"Oh, well, you know, we often talk on the weekends, so Bronze hears me talking to her," I shrug.

"Hmm, hmm," she replies skeptically. "I must be missing out on some interesting stuff on the weekends."

"Not really," I laugh nervously.

Great, Ona. Very convincing. If she knew I often sneak out of school thanks to Bronze, I have no doubt she’d have something to say about it.

"Well, I’m done. I’m going back to the dorm. I can’t stand my headache anymore."

"Yep, I’ll join you soon."

I nod and wish everyone else a good evening before leaving the table. I clear my tray and then head out to face the cold. I hesitate for a moment to take the emergency exit to get there faster, but Bronze would kill me if she found out. So, I force myself to take the main entrance. I regret this choice when I hear the noise coming from the common room. Someone forgot to close the door. It makes me realize how disrespectful students can be. They struggle to understand they’re not alone. I escape the noise by going upstairs to avoid worsening my migraine. When I get to the room, I decide to shower immediately so Ale will have space when she returns. In the meantime, she comes back to tell me that she changed her mind under the influence of the others and is heading back down to the common room for a bit. At least I’ll have some time alone. Or so I thought until I come face to face with Bronze as I’m leaving the bathroom.

"You scared me!"

"Sorry, I was looking for you," she smiles softly.

"No problem..."

"Here, for your migraine."

"Oh, thanks... Wait, let me find a sweater first, I’m cold."

"You’re not getting sick again, are you? You’re trembling like a leaf."

"I don’t think so. I’m just cold," I say as I grab a sweater from the closet.

The shower had warmed me up, but the room is cold compared to the sauna I created in the bathroom. Let’s just say that shorts and a T-shirt aren’t enough in these circumstances.

"Your lack of sleep probably isn’t helping."

"Stop blaming everything on that. Don’t forget I’ve only lived in hot countries."

"Hmm..." she says skeptically.

"Anyway, I’m on vacation starting tomorrow at eleven. I’ll have two long weeks to sleep."

"That’s true."

I first put down my phone and computer before going over to her to take the pillbox and a small bottle of water she thoughtfully brought me. I quickly swallow a pill with a few sips of water.

"Can I keep them?"

"Only the bottle. You know the rules."

She smiles at me sympathetically. It’s clear that it’s not safe to leave a pillbox with a former addict.

"It’s not like I’m going to get high."

"You could be capable of it. Now, give me the box."

I don’t argue and hand it back to her before slipping under my blanket. Without asking her opinion, I turn on my computer. I squint, noticing that Lucy doesn’t seem to want to leave.

"Are you planning to stay here for a while?"

"No."

She grabs my desk chair and places it between the two beds before sitting down. I look at her skeptically.

"I’d like to talk about tomorrow."

I frown, not understanding where she’s going with this. She leans back in the chair and crosses her arms.

"For two things. First, how do you feel about the exam?"

I sigh and shake my head. She’s not going to let this go. I had a moment of panic, and now she’s back on my case.

"I’m not trying to bother you. I can tell you’re stressed, which is why I’m asking."

"Who wouldn’t be stressed in my position? I’m a little bit, I admit. But it’s not because of the exam. Well, the dice are cast since it’s the last one... I’m scared because I don’t know if I’ve passed or not."

She nods understandingly. I bite my lip and look down. I feel ridiculous for being so worried over something so minor.

"Hey. No matter the result, you can’t say you didn’t give it your best shot. Okay?" she asks, placing her hand on my leg to get my attention.

"A little bit, maybe. I should have worked harder from the start."

"You were lost back then, and now you have regrets. That’s completely normal, but don’t forget that since then, you’ve pulled yourself together. You’ve made the necessary effort to catch up, so let me tell you... You have nothing to blame yourself for, understand?"

I sigh, nodding slowly. She always has the right words, it’s incredible.

"I get it... I’ll try not to torture myself over it anymore. What’s the second thing?"

"Your return home."

"Lucy," I groan. "I’ll behave, I promise."

"I’m just asking you to be reasonable, OK? Don’t feel obligated to go to parties if you don’t want to, and if there’s any issue—"

"I’ll come talk to you, I promise," I finish for her.

"Good," she sighs. "It’s time for you to sleep."

"No, please. I’d like to call Mapi first. I have something to sort out."

"Alright," she concedes. "You have half an hour. Then you turn everything off."

"OK."

"And in case you’re wondering, I plan to stay here to make sure of it."

"You can’t be serious," I groan. "I don’t need a babysitter."

"You’ll have to deal with it. I want to make sure you sleep on time tonight."

"Who says I won’t have a private conversation with Mapi?"

"Is that the case?"

"Not particularly... The others suggested spending New Year’s here with Mapi. I wanted to ask her about it. It’s a good idea, right?"

"Hmm," she says unconvincingly.

"At least you won’t be far if there’s a problem," I tease.

"I’ll probably have something better to do than look after you during that evening, you know."

"True... I thought you’d be happy about it," I say, opening the FaceTime app. "I’m at least reassured that you won’t be far."

"If you’re reassured, it means you still don’t trust yourself. Anyway, it’s definitely better than a party full of strangers."

"It’s not the best, that’s for sure. I’ve never really liked those kinds of places anyway," I shrug.

"Then why do you go? To put on a show?" she laughs.

"I don’t know. To have fun, I guess. Isn’t that what everyone does when they go to those kinds of places?"

"I guess. I don’t know. I’ve always found those parties stupid."

"Is it just me, or does this topic seem to annoy you?"

"It doesn’t."

I lift my head from my screen to smile at her. It does annoy her for some reason. I know she won’t elaborate, but she could at least be honest.

"You don’t want me going to those kinds of parties, do you?"

"I’d prefer you didn’t, indeed," she admits.

"Alright, you win," I roll my eyes. "If I stay in Barcelona for New Year’s, it’ll be my last party. Is that okay?"

"Wasn’t that already the plan? You promised me you wouldn’t go to any more parties after what happened last time."

Thinking about it, I realize she’s right. I’m not supposed to go to any more parties. I bite my lip, wondering how she managed to get her way. She has such an influence on me that it’s becoming scary. However, with her recent reaction, I can’t tell if it’s because she wants what’s best for me or because she has particular issues with parties. Maybe it’s both.

"I still get New Year’s, though... right?"

She rolls her eyes with a small smile.

"I told you to just be reasonable. Isn’t that clear enough?"

"Thanks..." I exhale. "You scared me for a moment."

"Use these holidays to clear your head and stop thinking about school."

"That’ll be hard. I’ll miss your orders."

"Be glad to be away from my demands. I must be annoying to you," she says, making me laugh. "What’s so funny?" she frowns.

- "I don’t find you annoying. You're just straightforward, and I was serious when I said I'm going to miss you. No one cares about me like you do. By the way, I hope I can write to you during the holidays..."

- "We'll see if I reply," she teases me.

A ringtone interrupts our conversation. I frown as I see an incoming call from my best friend. I was about to call her, but it's surprising that she's calling since we weren’t supposed to talk tonight.

- "Excuse me. I have to take this."

- "Go ahead, you’ve got fifteen minutes left," she reminds me.

I nod, pressing the green button and bringing the phone to my ear. With my other hand, I close my laptop, which is now useless.

- "Hey Maps, I was just about to call you."

- "Hey bonita," she replies in a small voice.

- "Oh! What’s wrong?"

- "Nothing, I just wanted to hear your voice. I miss you."

- "Don’t lie to me. I know you."

- "There’s nothing wrong."

- "Okay... if you say so..."

I squint as I see Lucy smiling. I nod to silently ask her what’s going on. In response, she just smiles wider.

- "What?" I say at the same time Mapi sighs.

- "Huh?"

- "Sorry, I wasn’t talking to you," I say, which makes Lucy laugh.

- "Are you with someone?"

- "Yeah... with Bronze. She’s playing babysitter."

- "Oh, I’ll let you go then."

- "No!" I quickly respond. "It’s not like she can hear you. Tell me what’s wrong. I know something’s up. I can feel it."

There’s a moment of hesitation where she stays silent. She takes a long breath. This is starting to worry me. Lucy seems to understand the situation from the way she looks at me. I suddenly sit up straight when Mapi bursts into uncontrollable sobs. If she’s crying, then something is really wrong. The only other time I’ve seen her cry was when I told her it was over between us.

- "Hey, Maps... What’s going on?" I say softly, not wanting to upset her.

- "Ana," she says. "She dumped me, Ona... Ana dumped me," she repeats desperately.

I part my lips in surprise. I didn’t see that coming... I regret not being by her side right now. Her sobs get louder, and there’s nothing I can do to calm her down. I can’t believe they’re no longer together. I really thought their relationship would last based on how she talked about her. I never really knew how she felt after I left, but hearing her now, I don’t even want to know. I run my hand over my face, trying to keep my composure.

- "Maps, I- It’s going to be okay, alright? I’m coming home tomorrow. I’ll be in Barcelona around eleven PM. You can come with Hector, or you can wait for me at home, okay?"

- "I really thought she was the one, Ona. I finally managed to have a serious relationship again, and she dumped me like trash. Damn it!"

I close my eyes, hearing the loud noise she’s making on the other end. I don’t know what she’s doing, but it doesn’t sound good.

- "Mapi..."

- "What’s going on?" Lucy asks me.

I sigh, covering the phone’s microphone to explain the situation to her. Lucy asks for my phone. I hesitate for a moment before giving it to her.

- "Hey Mapi, it’s Bronze."

I hate myself for doing this, but Lucy is definitely better at handling these situations than I am. I tend to be clumsy with my words and never know what to say. Unlike me, Lucy knows how to handle things. She does it with me, and now she’s doing it with Mapi. She’s calming her anger and reassuring her. It feels like I’m listening to her talk to me when I need her support. Lucy’s words seem to have the desired effect because I can’t hear Mapi yelling from where I’m sitting anymore. She continues talking to her before handing the phone back to me.

- "She wants to talk to you."

I quickly take the phone where I can already hear my best friend calling me.

- "Yeah, it’s me," I reply.

It seems like her crisis has passed. She’s still sniffling a bit, but she’s not crying anymore.

- "I understand why you think she’s so great."

- "I never used those words," I chuckle lightly to ease the situation. "But you’re right."

- "You don’t have to say it. It’s obvious when you talk about her."

- "Let’s not talk about that now. Are you going to be okay?"

- "Hmm," she sighs. "I have to be. I have one of my most important exams tomorrow. I just needed to hear your voice... I’ll come to the airport tomorrow. I want to see you as soon as possible."

- "Alright. I’ll tell Hector to pick you up then."

I see Lucy tapping her watch. She gave me thirty minutes, and I guess they’ve passed.

- "Are you going to stay over?"

- "Of course, if you don’t mind. I think I’ll need your arms, if it’s not too much to ask."

- "Of course not. Go rest now. Bronze wants me to hang up."

- "Bossy, huh?" she giggles slightly, which reassures me about her state. "I thought curfew was at ten PM? It’s only quarter past nine where you are, right?"

- "It’s complicated. I’ll explain when I get back."

- "Don’t tell me you’re having insomnia again?" she questions. "I thought it was over since you hadn’t mentioned it."

- "I was, but not for the reasons you think."

- "Hmm..." she replies skeptically.

Now’s not the time to talk about my problems, especially not in front of Lucy. For now, she’s the one who needs reassurance. I don’t want her to start feeling sorry for herself like I did.

- "I’ll see you tomorrow. Sleep well, Maps."

- "Goodnight, Onita. Thank you, and thank your supervisor too."

- "I was planning to. Kiss."

I hang up and place my phone on the nightstand. As for my laptop, I put it on the floor, too lazy to get up and put it in the cupboard.

- "Thanks... I didn’t know how to handle that."

- "It’s no big deal."

I don’t have time to reply as the door opens, revealing Alexia. She’s no longer surprised by Lucy’s regular presence.

- "I’m back," she says before grabbing pajamas from her closet. "Are we calling Mapi again?"

- "I just talked to her on the phone. I didn’t have time to ask her about New Year’s."

- "You can chat tomorrow morning. It’s time to sleep now, Ona," Lucy announces to me.

- "I’ll go take my shower then," Ale says. "Goodnight."

- "Goodnight," I reply.

I lie down in bed, looking at Lucy. I think I’m hallucinating when she takes my laptop and phone.

- "Don’t tell me you’re taking those with you?"

- "Yes. I should have thought of this earlier. Have you used them this week?"

- "Of course not," I groan. "You’ve checked on me every day!"

- "Hmm. Come on, I was serious. It’s time to sleep."

- "Are you planning to stay?" I’m surprised.

- "Yes. I want to make sure you sleep."

- "That’s ridiculous," I mutter. "You’re getting too serious about this."

- "Go to sleep."

I roll my eyes and eventually turn my back to her, wrapping myself in the blanket. The good thing is that my headache has finally gone. The bad thing is that Lucy’s presence is unsettling, even when I close my eyes. Sleeping is impossible. Especially with all the noise I hear when Alexia comes back into the room. She seems to be trying not to make any noise, but it’s not enough. I want to complain, but Lucy beats me to it by asking Ale to go to bed. A few minutes later, the light goes out, plunging us all into darkness. I roll over to the other side now that it’s dark and I can’t see Lucy watching me. I know she’s still there; otherwise, I would have heard the sound of the chair. Time passes, and I can make out Alexia’s steady breathing. My mind is too agitated, and it’s starting to annoy me. I sigh heavily, admitting defeat.

- "I can’t sleep," I mutter, rubbing my eye.

- "And then you wonder why I’m still here," she jokes.

- "It’s not funny," I sigh, sitting up.

- "Stay in bed. Curfew has passed."

- "Am I allowed to go to the bathroom?"

She sighs but lets me go. I make sure not to take too long so she doesn’t get impatient. I wash my hands before returning to bed under her watchful eyes.

- "What are you going to do during your vacation?" I murmur.

- "Talking won’t help you fall asleep," she says, annoyed.

- "It might help."

- "No, it just distracts you. We’ll have plenty of time to talk when I take you home tomorrow."

- "You’re taking me to the airport?"

- "Yes, Ona."

- "Cool. I prefer it when it’s you."

- "Don’t get any ideas. It’s just because I’m leaving at the same time as you."

- "Hmm."

I smile even though she can’t see it. Even if it’s the truth, I don’t care about the reasons. I just focus on the fact that she’s the one taking me home, even though she doesn’t have to. I understand now why she wanted to handle my departure reservations. I thought it was to take the burden off me.

- "Thanks," I say.

- "Okay, that’s enough. You’re starting to annoy me by being so awake. If you talk again, I’m really going to make you run laps. Am I clear!?"

- "Oh, come on, calm down," I grumble. "I’ll sleep."

- "I hope so. Goodnight."

- "Goodnight..."

I smile as I finally turn my back to her. I try now to clear my head and pretend she’s not there. This last solution seems to work this time because I finally feel myself drifting off.

#woso #lucy bronze #woso community #barca femeni #ona batlle #woso soccer #lionesses #sefutbol fem #ona batlle x lucy bronze #mapi leon

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freak-accident419 · 11 months ago

Text

Good Looking Boy

Billy (Burn 2019) x GN!Reader

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Summary: On a chilly December night, you and Billy catch up. Then, you make an important decision.

Word Count: 3.1k

Content: gender neutral reader, fluff, cursing, alcohol, mention of holidays (gift giving), slight suggestive comment

(A/n: thank you to everyone for all your support for this short multiple-part fic! It means so much to me! I hope I did its finale justice :) also credit to the person who suggested a bar scene !)

You watched him take a short sip of his beer as you fidgeted with your bottle.

You two agreed that you would catch up at this bar at the corner of the street when you were done with your shift. It has only been a few weeks since you’ve last seen him, but it felt like forever to you, hence the slight awkwardness in the atmosphere.

“So… did you pay off your debt…?” You ask hesitantly, continuing to fidget with the beer bottle in front of you. You finally looked at him, observing his brown eyes softening at the sight of you. The right side of his face was still scarred by the second-degree burn that hot coffee gave him. But you’ve only ever seen him like this, and so, to you, he still looked as handsome as he was since you last saw him.

“Yeah, I… I paid them off,” he answered bluntly.

“And the thing with the bikers? Are you… on good terms with them now?”

In response, he let out a scoff and a quiet chuckle, shaking his head.

“Ugh, dude, what did you do?” You say with exasperation, though amused by his lighthearted manner.

“They wanted the money, but, um… They all sort of… still hate me, so… those assholes gave me a warning: if they see my face again, they’ll kill me, so…” He trails off, taking a fairly tame swig of alcohol before he continues. You noticed that he seemed calmer since you’ve last seen him. As if he worked on himself, his temper, and spontaneous vulgarity. You admired that. “I’m gonna have to go. Unwillingly leave town, you know.”

“Damn,” you mutter, briefly sipping your drink. “That was your initial plan anyways though, right? To, like, just leave this place?”

He let out a soft sigh, which slightly puzzled you. Why did he seem so disappointed?

“Before I was on my way to meet up with them, I just… I got the idea that maybe I just shouldn’t leave. I thought that, um… leaving someplace that’s, uh… desirable… would be a very idiotic thing for me to do,” he explains, only baffling you even more.

“Okay? But you said it yourself, after you paid them off, you wanted to leave town and start anew, have a fresh start. What makes Upstate New York so… great, I guess, that you don’t want to leave?” You inquire with a lighthearted chuckle.

He fidgets with his beer bottle anxiously before looking back at you to answer. “You…”

You were stunned. You opened your mouth slightly to respond, but no words came out. You didn’t know him too well—but after an hour of being stuck together, you knew him enough, at the very least. But why did you have such an impact on him? You guessed that you had an indubitable liking for him too—similar to a childlike crush, though fueled solely by shared trauma. But you never really thought of it that much until now.

“Billy, I…” you stuttered out. “I… I mean… You had a whole plan, I… I just don’t understand. I like you, Billy, but… why should I be the reason you would want to stay here? You don’t really know me…”

“Well…” He wanted to argue that you two already learned a lot about each other from the time you’ve spent together, but even he realized it would be faulty reasoning. “Fuck, I want to get to know you better, then,” he urged gently.

He looked down at your hands, which were on the table near your drink. He reached his hands towards yours hesitantly, giving you a look by the raise of his eyebrows that asked for your permission. You nodded, watching him finally grab your hands, observing your one wrist, in which the bruise from the zip tie was completely gone. He tenderly rubbed his thumb over your wrists and palms. You felt the warm metal of his ring run against your skin as he would move his index finger. The slightly red dent on his wrist that you last saw on the day you escaped had also disappeared entirely. So it seemed like the only thing that followed him—the only thing that haunted him ever since the gas station, was his burn scar.

“I just…” he began, continuing to look down at your hands as he caressed them. It was something he did a lot, you noticed. You think it calmed him down. “I don’t know why I’m so… pulled to you. It’s fucking stupid, I know, and I’ve probably sounded like a dumbass this entire time, but… I mean it when I say I want to get to know you.”

You stared down at your hands in his, unsure of how you felt. “Well… The bikers, they said that they were gonna kill you if they see your face again. That’s, like… implying they want you out of town. You have to go, Billy. You can’t, shit, risk your life for me.”

“That’s why I want you to run away with me,” he urged softly.

“Billy—”

“I want you to come with me,” he pleads. In his mind, Billy thought it was quite ironic how he wanted you to go with him so badly; he rejected Melinda almost immediately when she asked to go with him. But this was different. You weren’t Melinda. You were you. And he desperately wanted to leave with you. But there seemed to be no way for that to happen.

“Billy, we already talked about this. I… I can’t just leave everything I have here behind,” you reason. “Plus, it’s been weeks ever since I last saw you. You had all this time to come see me, where have you been?”

He pursed his lips. “After the bikers gave me a few ‘friendly’ warning shots, I sort of left immediately. I just kept going west. Stayed in a couple motels. But it just… felt wrong, you know? I felt empty and… fuck, out of place… So, I guess I just… came back here to see you one more time…” he confessed, making your heart beat faster and face warmer. Nobody has ever done this grand of a gesture for you. You almost felt bad. You had made a deep connection with him back at the gas station, and suddenly you were worth a lot to him. “Shit, I… I honestly couldn’t stop thinking about you. I wanted to, because I knew it would be… really fucking bad if I tried to come back, but… You were always on my mind. Every second, I… thought about your laughter, and your voice, and I didn’t want to forget it. And-and most of all, you saved my life.” You frowned, because you considered it as a team effort, rather. “Something finally good in my life, for the first fucking time, happened to me and I can’t just—just stand by and let it just leave while I could do something about it.”

You were surprised, to say the least. You never knew you could be this important to someone, let alone someone you’ve only been around with for less than a day. “Billy, I—” You stammered with fluster. “I have to admit, I thought about you multiple times ever since. I sort of always wished I’d run into you whenever I went to a gas station. I think I even dreamed about you multiple times… To be honest, I always thought what would’ve happened if I said yes before and left with you.” He felt your thumb trace delicately along the back of his hand. “Never thought I’d ever think of a gas station robber as handsome and charming.” He chuckled softly in response, his lips forming into a cute, flattered smile.

“I love that you’re here, really. I love that you came back to see me,” You told him. “But… like I said, I can’t come with you.” You would love to, however, you knew it. But you couldn’t just leave everything you had here behind… Could you?

He sighed softly. “Okay, I understand,” he says. “But shit, just… Let me get to know you better before I have to leave for sure. Please. How about I just take you for a drive, then? Just around the block?”

Billy was heavily insistent. After all, he always goes for what he wants.

“The both of us have been drinking, Billy,” you say with guilt. You hated constantly rejecting him. You did want to get to know him better, you did want to spend time with him, but the circumstances and motives were utterly complicated.

You chuckled a bit, however, sort of amused by how much he wanted to be around you. “I don’t know, you can’t just, like… enjoy the moment right now?” You ask as you two look back down at your hands, which were being gently rubbed against each other, Billy’s thumb caressing the back of your hand.

“I don’t know if that’s gonna be enough for me, Y/n,” he claimed dejectedly.

“Why don’t we just take a walk, then? To, like, the nearest park or something,” you offer, feeling his warm fingertips glide softly over your nails. “We could… We could do that.”

After thinking about it for a second, he nodded compliantly.

***

It was supposed to be dark outside, however the street lamps nearby and string lights across buildings liberally illuminated the area. It has been probably half an hour since you two sat down on a park bench, just speaking to each other with occasional banter. That was probably the strongest thing you had with him: communication. Just talking about random things that led to discovering more things about one another. You’d done that while you were tied up together after all. It was how you mainly connected in that moment.

That was another thing, however. You weren’t forced in proximity anymore, but you two still wanted more of each other. Even if you didn’t show it. Your rejection did quite a number on Billy’s belief that his feelings were reciprocated, but as you two proceeded to laugh and talk together, it was reinforced.

“Okay… Quentin Tarantino.” You raise an eyebrow, grinning as you watched your warm breath escape your lips in a hazy, white mist.

“Damn. That one foot fetish guy?” he laughed.

“Yeah, the—the foot fetish guy,” you chuckle softly.

“Okay, easy, Pulp Fiction,” he answered. Met with your silence, he looked at you and you shook your head, smiling. “No?”

“No, I wouldn’t make it that obvious—”

“Kill Bill.”

“N—”

“Volume one or two?” You grin as he continued to guess wrong in your game. “Seriously, none of those?”

“From Dusk Til Dawn?” He nearly pouted, it was adorable. “I give up.”

“Jackie Brown. C’mon, man,” you snicker.

He playfully rolled his eyes, scoffing, making you giggle.

This was something you two did back at Paradise Pumps as well, while tied up and exhausted. You made a little game where you basically had to think of a movie and the other had to guess it by only knowing the name of its director.

He smiles softly as he looks at you, but then it gradually dropped, as the recurring thought that he would never see you again invaded his mind once more.

“You good?” You ask reluctantly, seeing his facial expression change.

“Yeah, I just…”

“You don’t want to leave me?” You finish his sentence with a sigh, seeing him nod in response. “It’s not so bad, Billy. You could leave, settle down, start a new life and leave behind all that crime and… biker gang beef,” you offer a small laugh before you continue.

“You could find somebody who is worthier than me. Someone who you didn’t bond with through shared trauma and forced proximity. Someone who would leave everything behind just for you, unlike me.” You wish you could, honestly. What was really stopping you? Fear? Guilt?

Billy scoffs as he listened to your statements, deeming them as bullshit. “Y/n, respectfully, shut the fuck up.” Your eyebrows raise in bewilderment. “I don’t want someone else, okay? I want you... Just you.”

Your heart nearly stopped and you looked at him with sole adoration for him.

And you had no idea what came over you in this moment, because once you heard him say this, you immediately pressed your lips to his, while hesitantly bringing your hands up to his face to gently hold it.

You heard his breath hitch as he soon melts into the kiss, moving his lips with yours and holding onto your wrists. His lips were soft and warm, and he was being nothing but gentle with you. You felt the the tender skin of his burn against your fingertips, your delicate and careful touch soothing him.

You weren’t sure what kind of confidence boost let you do something so impulsive as kissing someone. But the entire night, Billy had been relentlessly winning over your heart, expressing his immense admiration for you. You fell for him. And you had to do something about that.

“Fuck, you know, that…” he began hoarsely once your lips have separated, yet your faces were still very close to each other, switching back and forth from looking deeply into one’s eyes to their lips. “That was fucking evil. That just made it even harder for me to leave you,” he stressed as you two let out small, quiet chuckles.

He convinced you enough, you thought. What did you really have to lose…?

Or, rather, what would you gain?

“You don’t have to,” your voice was slightly raspy as you spoke with a smirk.

And what you would say next had marked your decision. “I’m coming with you, cowboy.”

He parted his lips in shock, so before he could say anything, you just kissed him again, deeply and affectionately, as you couldn’t help but smile in the kiss. You felt him pull you closer by the waist in a fairly strong grip, as if you were to disappear if he let you go. It was a sweet and affectionate kiss, the two of you expressing your admiration and fondness for each other. It was supposed to be cold, hell, it was December in New York. But you couldn’t help but feel pure warmth each second your kiss remained.

*** Two Weeks Later ***

“Open it,” you giggle softly.

“Seriously, when did you get the time to wrap a whole ass gift when we’ve been, like, on the road together this whole time?” Billy says with a smile as he examines the thin, neatly wrapped box in his hands.

“I found a service. While you were preoccupied. Now shut up. Happy Holidays. Open the damn thing.”

It’s been about two weeks since you agreed with leaving with him. After resigning from your job, you basically packed your bags and savings and he picked you up. You two didn’t face any problems so far as you traveled east. You only had an increased admiration for each other, as well as mutual understandings.

Now, you were in an empty parking lot, keeping warm inside the car during the evening. You surprised him with a wrapped gift for the holidays.

You watched him rip off the wrapping paper, making you involuntarily laugh as you saw his expression of disbelief, represented by his playful scoff and the rolling of his eyes.

‘Never Get Angry Again: The Foolproof Way to Stay Calm and in Control in Any Conversation or Situation’ by David J. Lieberman, PhD

He raised his eyebrows as he read over the cover of the anger management book and presented it to you. “Seriously?”

You snicker impishly as you see an amused smile creep at the corner of his lips. “Told you I would, didn’t I?”

“You are terrible,” Billy joked endearingly with a low chuckle.

“I know,” you retort cunningly, reaching over the center console of the car to give him a soft peck on the lips.

“But you have to admit, Y/n, I have been working on myself ever since,” he points out, making you scoff.

“Yeah, but you totally lashed out on that one guy when we were at that convenience store in Pittsburgh,” you insist.

“Okay, well, in my defense, I really didn’t like the way he was looking at you,” he shrugged with a knowing grin.

“Damn, should I have gotten you a book on jealousy as well?” you sneer.

“Hey, watch it,” he warned playfully.

“You know what, yeah, you’re right. I digress,” you concur nonchalantly. “If it weren’t for him getting an intense reaction out of you, then you wouldn’t have taken me straight to the bathroom and—”

“Okay, okay, that’s enough,” he chuckled softly as you laughed at your own delivery. “Just…” He reached in the back, grabbing a brown box that was sealed with clear tape. “Open your gift. Sorry I didn’t have the time to wrap it, like, I still have no idea how you had the time to do it behind my back, but yeah.”

He handed you his keys so you could rip the tape, then you opened the box, being met with styrofoam packaging. You removed the top layer, and then let out a small gasp as you saw the object, taking it in your hands.

It was a small Albany, New York snow globe. You were beaming as you shook it, watching the “snow” fall down on the capitol building.

“I thought you’d be homesick, so I snatched it right before we left,” he explained, smiling as he sees your reaction.

“Oh my god, Billy, it’s perfect,” you say in awe, then reach over the center console again to hug him tightly, feeling his arms wrap around you. “Thank you so much,” you say, kissing him deeply on his lips.

“‘F course, Y/n,” he mumbled sweetly, affectionately returning your kisses.

“You’re perfect,” you nearly whispered as you set the snow globe back in the box so your hands were free to hold his face. He always loved when you would do that. It brought a sort of comfort to him, making him feel safe and secure. He leaned into your touch as you kissed the right side of his face—his forehead and cheek—which were the areas that had been mildly burnt.

“Even when I robbed a gas station?” He asked under his breath, raising an eyebrow.

“Seriously?”

He always had a problem with being defined and associated with criminality, so you found it quite ironic for him to point it out.

“I’m fucking with you.”

You shove him playfully, which only resulted in him bringing you into an intense, deep kiss. “You are so perfect too, you know that?” He mutters softly. “I’m so fucking glad you came with me.” He artfully grabbed your hand and looked at you intimately as he pressed a gentle kiss to your wrist—the one that was zip tied to his. The one where the bruise on it had now been fully healed and gone.

“Me too,” you murmur ardently.

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