#THIS ISN'T IN ANY HOLIDAY SPIRIT
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My Predictions for Who (If Anyone) May be Corrupted Next
I'M BACK ALREADY YOU CAN'T GET RID OF ME FOR LONG!!!!
So yeah, we’ve got Corrupted Forever now. That’s fun
What’s more fun is how this happened, and what this means for other people
Because Forever might have been the one most at risk to corruption due to his extended time in the Nether, but he is far from the only one vulnerable to this
Here’s who I know of to be at risk, in order of most likely to least likely
Fit, Phil (Kinda), Etoiles, Bagi, and Pac
Because like I pointed out earlier today, Fit and Phil cleaned up a huge amount of the concrete left around the server, with QSMP Updates even commenting (specifically in regards to Fit) that “That surely won’t have consequences, right?” Or something along those lines I don’t have the patience to look it up because Twitter is a hot mess in that regard
That, and his Rebellion work, is why I think Fit is currently most at-risk. Because in addition to the Black Concrete Cleanup he and Phil did, he also went to investigate the Black Concrete Dungeon to find traces of one of the Codes. So unfortunately, I think if anyone else is gonna succumb to corruption, it might be Fit. (AND PHIL WILL SUFFER DAMMIT)
After that we have Etoiles, who has been doing various work for the Rebellion that has semi-frequently led him to be exposed to Black Concrete, but to my knowledge, he hasn’t had as much direct contact with it aside from the Code Explosion and the time he, Fit, and Bagi investigated the Code together. Not to mention that he’s already Code-Corrupted kind of, and it’d be a little strange for him to have two separate infections/corruptions
And of course there’s Bagi, who had also investigated that Black Concrete Dungeon, but this is basically the only time Bagi had any extended contact with the Concrete aside from day-to-day stuff that everyone had
Pac of course, was in the Nether for a bit, having been led there by Walter Bob, but it doesn’t look like there’s been any effect on him that we can tell, since he wasn’t there as long as Forever was. I’m just adding him to the list because he was in fact in the Nether at one point (There's also the fact that right now he's probably gonna have his hands full with Mike, if anything comes from that)
Now, I did put Phil on the list, but he’s a bit of a special case here. Because while he DID help clean up the Concrete, leading to him having a lot of direct contact, he wasn’t the one that QSMP Updates called out. Not only that, but we now have Rose possibly helping him, which means he may not get corrupted because of her influence and protection. (It’s not surefire though, so that’s why he’s still on the list, and pretty high on it at that. I think I might have more thoughts on this later though because I’ve got an idea for some good angst potential here specifically)
So yeah, that's who I think could possibly be corrupted. Fit is definitely the highest on the list
(AND APPARENTLY SOMEONE REBLOGGED MY FIRST POST TALKING ABOUT THIS WITH THIS IN THE TAGS SO HEY THAT’S A GOOD OMEN IF EVER I'VE SEEN ONE)
In short, lots to look forward to :)
*Edit because I forgot to mention that FIT IS DOING A SATURDAY STREAM TOO BTW. That ISN'T TOO NORMAL FOR HIM and is raising ZERO RED FLAGS
#IT'S SUPPOSED TO BE CHRISTMAS DAMMIT#THIS ISN'T IN THE HOLIDAY SPIRIT#THIS ISN'T IN ANY HOLIDAY SPIRIT#I mean at least as far as I know#There could be a Holiday this is directly invoking#Who knows??#Either way this is too close to the holidays to be doing lore this heavy#Unless it's leading to some reason for people to get a bit of a break#In which case power to them#But we just won't be in the holiday spirit at that point man#qsmp#qsmp theory#q!forever#q!phil#q!philza#q!fit#q!fitmc#q!etoiles#q!bagi#q!pac#q!pactw
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Silent Night
Joel Miller x f!reader
Summary: You’re home for the holidays and Joel isn't gonna let a drinking contest or a house full of people stop him.
Warnings: PWP ofc, established relationship, mentions of drinking/alcohol, having to keep quiet?, oral (f&m receiving), thigh grinding, creampie, breeding kink, come play, getting caught, I think that's all lmk if I missed anything
w/c: 6.6k
a/n: hiii everyone! I am in fact alive! I'm finally on break from school and this is just a lil something I wrote real quick bc I've been in the holiday spirit since before October even ended hehehe :) Anyway, thank u to the actual loml @undrthelights for beta reading and finding the perfect pics!! It's nice to be back! Please leave a comment letting me know if you liked it, support is what keeps writers going!! Love u all!!
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Your hips grind a little harder against his thigh, a soft sight falling from your lips as he licks and sucks at the spot under your ear that drives you absolutely wild. “I don't think I can be quiet” you whisper, gasping softly when his tongue swipes over your pulse. "You can" he mumbles against the side of your neck, the vibrations of his voice and his warm breath against your skin sending burning hot sparks down your spine. “You can do whatever I ask, can’t you baby?”
You can hear them downstairs, muffled sounds of Joel and several other of your family members talking and laughing while they sip on the fancy whiskey that your dad was saving for the occasion. You opted out of it, quickly taking up the offer of the first hour or two of alone time you’ve had since you arrived at your parents house two days ago instead. You figured Joel could use the time too, talking with your dad and uncles and cousins about whatever men talk about when they’re doing whiskey tasting in the mancave of a basement.
You managed to avoid getting roped into watching a shitty Hallmark Christmas movie with the rest of your family or helping them prep for the big dinner tomorrow. After successfully sneaking away to your old childhood bedroom that’s now redecorated as a simple guest room, you're left with nothing to do besides relax. First up was a long shower with the water so hot you nearly scalded your skin, and now you’re cozied up in bed, nose buried deep in the middle of your book while the rest of the house buzzed with muted background noise.
Time passes without you noticing, too engrossed in your book to keep track, but eventually the bedroom door creaks open, pulling you back to reality. You’re about to tell off whoever is at the door for interrupting you, but you immediately soften when Joel slips inside, quietly closing the door behind him.
He looks so sweet, wrapped up in a thick dark brown sweater, his curls flopping over his forehead, a light dusting of pink on his cheeks and the bridge of his nose with a lopsided smile. His eyes are soft, warm, and a bit glassy as he looks at you like you’re the best thing he ever did see.
"Think your dad is trying to kill me" he says, his words slurring just a bit as he crosses the room over to the bed.
You giggle, watching him plop down on the bed on his back, his head rolling over to look at you, "Are you surprised? He does this to you every year."
It's true, every holiday at your parents house, your dad insists on the whiskey "tasting", which is really just him pouring heavy handed shots and glasses and seeing who's going to be the last one to tap out. Usually it's just him and his brothers in the end, hashing out some decades old sibling rivalry in the form of a drinking contest. And ever since the first time you brought Joel home for the holiday five years ago, your father has insisted on dragging him down there and challenging him too.
The first year was the worst with Joel not heeding any of your warnings about how much liquor your dad would actually push on him. Joel was so sick by the end of the night that he made best friends with the toilet and passed out on the couch, then spent most of the next morning with a massive hangover, apologizing profusely to your dad about it who just laughed and said that he can try again next year.
Thankfully, Joel knows his limits now and has made peace with the fact that he'll never beat your dad at his own game. It doesn't mean that the challenge doesn't still stand.
"No" he mumbles, a dopey smile spreading across his face, "Guess I jus' never expect him to pour shots big enough to knock out a horse"
"How many did you have this time?" You ask, bookmarking your place in the book before setting it aside, sitting up a little straighter and adjusting the pillows behind your back.
"Jus' three."
"Oh, so you are just a lightweight then?"
"I'm not a fuckin' lightweight" he grumbles with a dramatic pout.
You laugh as you turn to lay on your side, propping yourself up on your elbow. Your hand instinctively falls to his hair, a small content sigh falling from his lips as your fingertips skate across his hairline and glide through his soft curls. scooting closer to him and reaching down to run your fingers through his hair, "Okay, baby" you hum, smiling when his eyes fall shut as your nails gently scratch his scalp, "If you say so."
Joel melts under your touch, like a cat basking in the sun, a lazy little grin on his face and a dreamy, far off look in his eyes. His face is still flushed, the tips of his ears and the tops of his cheeks a rosy shade of pink, his lips slightly parted, a few more stray curls falling across his forehead. He looks absolutely gorgeous, and the soft, tender look in his eyes when he finally looks back up at you melts you from the inside out.
You cup the side of his face in your hand and ;ean in to press a lingering kiss to his forehead. "You're so cute when you're drunk" you murmur, moving kissing his cheek.
"M'not drunk"
You pull back to look him in the eye, smiling, "Sure you're not"
"I'm not" he whines, "M'just a lil' tipsy."
"Alright" you hum, pressing a quick kiss to his pouty lips.
Joel follows your mouth with the softest whine when you start to pull back, his large hand cupping the back of your head, holding you still while he kisses you, needy, but still so sweet. The taste of whiskey is heavy on his tongue as it slides against yours, a soft, satisfied noise rumbling in his chest when you part your lips further, kissing him deeper.
When he finally lets you break the kiss, you're left just a little breathless and dazed, a giddy feeling swirling low in your belly. His pupils are blown when he looks up at you, his lips spit slick and plump, a lopsided smile on his face. He turns a little more on his side facing you, his fingers fiddling with the hem of your t-shirt until his hand slips easily underneath like it was meant to be there. The warmth of his palm smoothing up and down the curve of your spine is soothing, his fingers gently tracing over your ribs and the dip of your waist, the slight scratch of his calluses over your skin sending a shiver down your spine.
His eyes are half-lidded as he stares at your lips, licking his own. Realistically, you knew exactly what was going to happen as soon as he entered the bedroom. You know how he gets when he's like this, soft, sweet, and incredibly needy. With all the amount of times he tugged you into a bar bathroom after he's had a few, or when Tommy drops him off after a night out and he's already halfway to undressing you before the front door even shuts. You know he's trouble like this, but you can never deny him when he's looking at you like that, like you're the only thing he needs, the only thing he's ever needed.
He leans in to kiss you again, slow and sweet, his fingers splaying on your lower back and keeping you close. His mouth moves languidly against yours, the tip of his tongue tracing your bottle lip and his teeth sinking in the slightest bit to nip and tug, pulling a desperate little sound out from the back of your throat.
He sighs at the small sound and starts to lean into you more, using his weight to roll you over until you're flat on your back with him hovering above you, his forearms on either side of your head with his knees bracketing your hips. The kisses grow hungrier, wetter, more insistent, his mouth moving against yours like he's trying to breathe the very air from your lungs.
He shifts a bit and you moan softly into his mouth when his thigh slots between yours, the firm muscle of his thigh pushing right up against the apex of your thighs, the perfect amount of pressure to make heat spark and smolder in your belly. He does it again, rocking his thigh up against you just a little harder, swallowing the needy whimper that you let out, the heat and friction making you ache.
You can’t help but grind against his thigh, the seam of your sweatpants pressing against the damp spot that’s already forming on your panties and digging into your clit just right. You’re chasing the growing pleasure, the firmness of his thigh and the intoxicating taste of whiskey on his soft lips mixed with the faint trace of his peppermint toothpaste. You’d give anything to have him, for him to take you, but the sounds of laughter and chatter coming from downstairs is a rude reminder of reality.
"Joel" you warn with absolutely no heat in your voice, his lips grazing the sensitive spot under your ear, "We can't.”
He ignores you for a beat, crashing his lips back on yours and kissing you until he needs to come up for air.
"We can" he says, his voice gravelly and thick with want, the deep rumble vibrating in his chest. "We're bein' real quiet"
His lips trail across the line of your jaw and up your cheek before landing on your mouth again. The slow, lazy drag of his tongue against yours makes you throb, another soft when escaping you and the muscles in your legs and stomach tightening as you make no effort to stop moving against his thigh.
“Everyone will hear us” you try feebly, knowing it’s futile.
Joel smirks against your lips, the bastard. “Nah. I’ll be quiet.”
You know he's a damn liar and a bad one at that. In what world could you be quiet with his hands and mouth on you, with his thick cock buried deep inside you, stretching you out and filling you up so good that your toes curl? And in what world could he be quiet, not running his mouth about how good you feel, how pretty you look stuffed full of him, how well you take him. You know exactly how it'll go, if the numerous failed previous attempts are anything to go by.
But then his lips are on the side of your neck, and you're forgetting why it matters. You let your eyes fall shut as his lips press gentle, wet kisses up and down the column of your throat, the stubble on his cheeks and chin scratching and tickling in the best way. You're quickly forgetting why this was a bad idea to begin with.
Your hips grind a little harder against his thigh, a soft sight falling from your lips as he licks and sucks at the spot under your ear that drives you absolutely wild. “I don't think I can,” you whisper, gasping softly when his tongue swipes over your pulse point.
"You can" he mumbles against the side of your neck, the vibrations of his voice and his warm breath against your skin sending burning hot sparks down your spine. “You can do whatever I ask, can’t you baby?”
“I don’t- oh…”
The rest of your sentence dies on the tip of your tongue as he pushes his thigh against you, grinding it up against your core in a way that has your head spinning and toes curling, the pleasure sharp and delicious as it melts into your veins.
“That’s right” he murmurs, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of your mouth. “You’ll do whatever I say, huh?”
There’s a pause and when you open your eyes, his are dark, his pupils blown wide, the deep brown nearly swallowed whole. His hair is tousled and curlier than ever, a few loose strands hanging in his face. His lips are slightly parted, swollen, red, and sick and shiny from your kisses. He’s an absolute sight and you can’t help but nod, eager to do whatever he wants, whatever he asks, because god it’s always worth it.
His eyes crinkle a bit at the corners and the lopsided smirk on his face widens. He’s the fucking devil.
Just the thought of him taking you with the rest of the house full of your extended family is making your veins buzz, excitement bubbling low in your belly. But you're well aware of just how thin the walls are and how nosy some members of your family are and you can't fathom how awkward it would be to come down for breakfast the next morning after the whole house heard you getting absolutely railed.
"It’ll be okay" he assures, reading your thoughts, his hands slipping under your shirt again. The fabric bunches up over his wrists as he slides his palms up your torso to cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples. "M’not gonna let anyone else hear you. Just me."
Fuck.
His simple words are enough to convince you, not that you needed much convincing in the first place. He had you wrapped around his finger and him around yours, and there was no way you were going to say no to what you know will come next. A jolt of electricity shoots down your spine and settles hot and heavy in the pit of your stomach. Your resolve breaks, your legs falling open further, letting him get even closer, and Joel lets out a soft, happy noise against your mouth.
"Atta girl" he hums, his voice rough and deep, "So good for me, aren't ya baby?"
"Always" you manage to reply, the word more of a sigh as you arch your back, his thumb teasing your nipple until it's pebbled and hard.
He gives into you easily, tugging your shirt up and over your head. His mouth lands on your chest as soon as it’s exposed, immediately licking and kissing across your collarbones and the swell of your breast. He noses along the valley between them, the coarse hair of his beard tickling your skin and making you giggle. You can feel him grinning against your skin before he nips and sucks at the supple flesh until a red mark rises to the surface.
You squirm beneath him, his leg still nestled perfectly between yours and pressing against you every time he shifts. The pressure is building in your gut, your clit aching and throbbing. The feeling is almost too much with his hot wet mouth now wrapped around your nipple, his tongue swirling around the stiff peak making it harder and harder for you to keep quiet.
“Joel,” you hiss, the word half warning and half plea.
“Hush, baby” he mumbles against your skin. His fingers replace his mouth, pinching and teasing your swollen, spit-slick nipple as he kisses across your chest to lavish your other nipple with the same attention.
“Gotta be quiet, remember?” he says when he pulls back, releasing your nipple with a wet pop. “Unless you want everyone hearin’ ya”
You open your mouth to say something in protest, to tell him that he’s making things a lot harder right now, but then he starts moving, sliding down the bed and the words die in your throat. The look he gives you as he settles on his stomach between your thighs is sinful, his eyes dark and mischievous, his lips pulled up into a smirk.
He hooks his fingers in the waistband of your sweats, slowly pulling them along with your panties down your legs, leaving you completely bare. Your stomach swoops at the sight of his eyes trained to your center and your thighs twitch, wanting to snap shut and hide. But his hands on both of your thighs keep you spread open for him. You swallow thickly, your breath catching in your throat, the anticipation building in the pit of your belly as your slick starts to drip down the cleft of your ass.
Joel’s mouth falls open slightly, a shaky breath escaping him. “Fuck, baby” he sighs, tongue darting out to lick his cherry red lips, his eyes glazing over. A small, content smile tugs at the corners of your mouth, a swell of pride blossoming in your chest. He looks wrecked, like a starving man eyeing his first meal, and the way he's looking at you so intently, like you're the best thing he's ever seen, the thing that's kept him alive all these years, is making your heart pound almost painfully in your chest.
“Fucking gorgeous,” he praises, his hand running along the inside of your thigh. “And all mine.”
Like he can’t wait another second, he’s leaning in and licking a long, wet stripe up your center, dragging his tongue through your folds from your leaking hole to your swollen, needy clit. The feeling of his tongue on you pulls a soft, broken sound from you. You clap your hand over your mouth as your head spins, a rush of pleasure washing over you making the muscles in your thighs and stomach twitch and flex.
He does it again and again, and every time his tongue flicks over the swollen bud, you let out a soft whine that sounds far too loud in the otherwise quiet room.
He groans against you, his mouth already wet and messy as he laps at your pussy like he's starving for it, like he would die without tasting you. His eyes are locked on yours, the look in them so dark and primal that it makes your walls clench, more slick freely leaking out of you and onto his tongue. He laps it up happily, his fingers digging into your hips, holding you steady as his mouth works your clit.
He lets out a quiet, breathy moan when you slide your hand through his hair once again, your fingers tangling in and pulling on the soft brown strands. His eyes flutter shut, a shuddery exhale falling from his parted lips, and the feeling of his warm breath fanning over your wet, sensitive center has you stifling another high pitched whimper.
You roll your hips up against his face, desperate for more, and he gets the hint, the flat of his tongue swiping up through your folds a few more times before he dips it into your entrance, pushing in and out while his nose nudges at your clit. You're writhing beneath him, tugging at his hair, trying so hard to be quiet but failing miserably, soft, desperate little noises pouring out of your mouth. You know he's loving it too, making no effort to keep your noises at bay, not giving a single fuck about who might hear.
He moans against your cunt, the vibrations making you jolt, your hips rolling up to meet him. You're panting, the hand that isn't buried in his hair gripping the sheets tight enough that your knuckles turn white, and your back arches when his tongue fucks in and out of you faster, rougher.
"Joel, fuck" you gasp, "I- I'm-
He growls, the sound muffled by your pussy, the vibrations and the feeling of his stubble dragging along your inner thighs making your toes curl, the familiar coil in your belly tightening, your thighs trembling.
He doubles down, bringing a hand between your legs to replace his tongue with two thick fingers sinking into you and curling up against that spot inside you that has you seeing stars, his tongue circling your clit while his fingers pump in and out of you, his mouth and hand working in tandem to pull you apart.
"Fuck, I'm close" you whimper, his fingers crooking against that spot inside of you, sending white hot fire coursing through your veins as your slick leaks down his fingers and into his palm like hot honey.
He hums, sucking your clit between his lips, and your legs clamp around his head, your hand tightening in his hair as your orgasm crashes over you, your back arching off the mattress, a muffled, broken moan spilling out from behind your hand. He fucks you through it, his tongue flattening out against your clit while the tips of his fingers rub against that sweet spot inside of you, sending more sparks of pleasure tingling up and down your spine.
When it's too much, when the sensitivity makes tears prick in the corners of your eyes, you make a feeble attempt to push him away. He pulls back, sitting up on his knees, his chin and cheeks wet with your slick, his pupils blown so wide that the brown is almost completely swallowed up by black. He stares at you, his gaze so heavy and intense that it makes another shiver run down your spine.
"You're not being very quiet" he smirks as he moves off the bed to stand up.
You roll your eyes, still coming down from the aftershocks, your thighs quivering, "Yeah, no shit" you mutter, propping yourself up on your elbows.
He chuckles as he pulls off his sweater and the t-shirt underneath it before he starts unbuckling his belt and working on his jeans. You sit up, shuffling closer to the edge of the bed, reaching out and batting his hands away, taking over and quickly unfastening the button and pulling the zipper down.
He doesn't protest, letting you push his jeans and boxers down his legs until he kicks them all the way off. Your mouth waters at the sight of his thick, hard cock hanging heavy between his legs, flushed a deep red with slippery precum beading at the tip. You reach out, wrapping your hand around the base and taking a moment or two to revel in the familiar weight and warmth of him in your hand.
He shudders, a low moan rumbling in his chest, his eyes slipping shut as his hand moves to cup the back of your head. He watches you intently as you take your time, lazily stroking him, rubbing the pad of your thumb over the leaking tip and tracing the throbbing veins that run along the sides. His breathing grows heavy, his jaw clenching and his stomach muscles twitching as he tries so hard not to buck his hips up into the loose circle of your fist.
"C'mon, sweetheart" he pleads, the words leaving his mouth as a low, breathless groan, "Get me all nice and wet for you."
He doesn't have to ask twice. You lean forward and you dart your tongue out to lap up the bead of precum, humming at the salty, bitter taste of it, swirling the flat of your tongue over the head of his cock, your hand pumping the rest of his shaft. His breath catches in his throat, a stuttered curse falling from his lips when you dip your tongue into the slit, teasing more precum out.
He groans, his grip on the back of your head tightening, urging you to take him into the warm, wet heat of your mouth. You sink down, flattening your tongue and taking him all the way until he hits the back of your throat, the tip of his cock brushing against the roof of your mouth. You breathe through your nose, hollowing your cheeks, swallowing around him, and the deep, guttural groan that he lets out has you squirming, slick leaking out of your cunt and onto the sheets below.
"There ya go" he pants, his head lolling back, "Oh, baby, that's it. S'fuckin' perfect."
You pull off, a string of spit and precum connecting his cock to your bottom lip, and you look up at him through your lashes.
"Need to be quiet" you remind him, "Or else I'll stop"
He lets out a shaky breath and nods, swallowing hard, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. He's not used to keeping quiet, not used to not telling you how good you feel, not used to not begging you to let him cum in that low, raspy tone that never fails to make you weak.
"I'll be good," he whispers, breathless and needy. "Promise."
Your stomach swoops at his words, arousal burning bright in your belly. Unable to stay away for much longer, you lean forward, pressing a soft kiss to the head of his cock. His hips jerk, another drop of precum leaking out. You lick it up, swirling your tongue around the sensitive, swollen tip before sinking down again. You take him into the wet heat of your mouth, hollowing your cheeks and swallowing around him, bobbing your head slowly and steadily.
He bites his lip hard enough to draw blood trying with all his might to keep his noises in as you drool all over his cock. He can't take his eyes off you, watching the way he disappears into the slick heat of your mouth. You look so pretty with your lips wrapped around him, spit dripping down his cock and leaking out the corners of your mouth while your eyes water as you take him as far as you can.
You take him deeper, and you swallow, your throat convulsing around him, and the way his whole body shudders makes you smile, proud of the effect you have on him. He's so big and thick, and you both know you can't fit him all the way down your throat, but seeing you try your best is enough to make his thighs start to shake.
His cock hits the back of your throat again and again, the tip dipping into the soft, warm, tight space, and Joel's breathing is getting heavier and faster, his jaw clenched and his eyebrows knitted together.
"Shit" he grits out under his breath, "That's it, sweetheart. That's fuckin' it."
The praise goes straight between your legs, a fresh wave of slick leaking out of you and it's too tempting to resist, so you slip your hand between your thighs and rub circles around your clit, moaning softly around his cock.
He hisses, his eyes snapping down, watching your hand disappear between your legs.
"Are you touchin' yourself?" he asks, the words coming out rough and choked, his eyebrows raised.
You nod, sliding a finger into yourself, and you pull off his cock, panting, a thin strand of spit connecting the head to your bottom lip.
"Can't help it" you whine pathetically, your voice already raspy from how far his cock had been down your throat.
Joel groans, his dick twitching, and he's had enough. He takes a step back, and you let go, a little confused and worried that you've done something wrong. But he just takes hold of your arms and yanks you off the bed, his strong hands easily manhandling you, and then he's pushing you, turning you around and bending you over the side of the mattress.
"Oh" you breathe out, bracing yourself on your forearms, arching your back, sticking your ass up in the air.
You don't have to wait long for him to move. His hand is smoothing over your ass, the other one guiding his cock towards your sopping cunt. He teases the tip between your folds, spreading your slick and dragging his head over your swollen clit a few times before lining himself up and sinking in.
You bite down on the inside of your cheek to keep quiet, letting out a stuttering breath, the familiar, delicious burn of his thick cock stretching you out making your eyes roll back into your head. You've made peace with the face that you'll never be used to his size. It'll always be too much, the feeling of him pushing into, forcing your walls to make room for him will always make you clench and shiver.
He's got his hands on your hips, holding you steady as he bottoms out, his hips flush with the curve of your ass with the tip of his cock pressed against your cervix. He holds himself there for a moment, both of you adjusting to the feeling, and you're trying so hard not to moan, to keep your noises muffled by the mattress, and you know Joel's struggling too, his jaw clenched tight and his brow furrowed.
"Good girl" he whispers, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips, "Taking my cock so well, aren't ya?"
You nod, whimpering, your fingers twisting in the sheets.
He pulls back and thrusts back in, setting a steady, slow rhythm, the wet slide of his cock making the most obscene sounds. And it's driving you crazy, the need to let out loud, your chest burning with the effort of keeping your noises in. He keeps his pace slow, not wanting to make more noise with his hips snapping against your ass. It’s nearly tortuous though, the drag of his cock in and out of you so slow that you can feel every ridge as he takes his sweet time. You can only handle it for a few moments before the tingling hints of pain from the stretch subside and the burning need for him to fuck you senseless takes over.
"Joel" you whine, "Faster, please."
He leans over you, his front pressed against your back, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. "You're not gonna stay quiet if I do," he says, his voice deep and gravelly, "Just take what I give you, sweetheart."
You're so worked up, the slow pace makes you even more desperate for him, and you can't help it, you need more, and you reach a hand back and grab his hip, urging him to speed up.
"I-I'll try" you promise, "Please, just- Just fuck me, Joel, please"
He hesitates, but the way you're squirming beneath him is so tempting, and the way his cock is throbbing and dripping inside of you is telling him that he needs more too.
Before you can say anything else, he's pulling back, the thick, heavy weight of him sliding out of you. You whimper at sudden empty feeling but you don't have time to complain before he's flipping you over onto your back and scooting you up the bed before climbing on top of you. You can’t help but notice how big he is, the muscles flexing smoothly in his strong arms that box you in as he hovers above you, nearly encompassing your entire body underneath his. His mouth is on yours before you can even blink, his tongue slipping past your lips and kissing you like his life depends on it.
He settles between your legs, his hips nestled in the cradle of your thighs, his cock dragging along your clit again warm and heavy, and you gasp, the sound swallowed by his mouth. You're squirming again, desperate to feel him stretch you out more and he takes mercy on you, reaching between your bodies and grabbing the base of his cock, guiding the thick head towards your entrance.
"Gotta be quiet, baby" he warns, his eyes boring into yours as he looks down at you. "Those pretty noises are just for me, yeah? Can't have anyone hearin' 'em."
You nod frantically and the next second he's pushing in, the fat head of his cock forcing its way into you and bottoming out in one smooth motion. You let out a gasp that's definitely too loud but Joel is quick to remedy it, his hand coming up to cover your mouth, his fingers splaying across your cheek.
"Shh" he shushes you, his hips rolling, the slow, lazy drag of his cock against your walls making you clench around him. Your eyes roll back, your back arching as his hand stops all the whiny little sounds you can't help but make. He continues to fuck you slow and deep, his cock sliding in and out of your soaking wet cunt, the filthy sounds of skin slapping against skin echoing softly in the room.
You can't take your eyes off him, watching his eyes squeeze shut, the muscles in his arms and shoulders flexing as he fucks you, his brows knitted together and his teeth sunk into his bottom lip. He looks beautiful like this, sweat glistening on his skin, his jaw tight, and his eyes shut tight, his mouth hanging open with his breaths coming out in soft, barely audible pants.
"Mmm" he hums, his hips picking up speed, his cock pushing impossibly deeper. "You feel so fuckin' good, baby. Fuck."
You reflexively clench around him and a shudder runs through his whole body.
"Gettin' real tight" he pants, "Tryna milk the cum right outta me, huh? Tryna make me fill up that pretty pussy?"
You whimper into his palm, your pussy fluttering, a fresh wave of slick coating his cock, and he groans, his hips picking up speed.
"S'what you want?" he asks in a hushed tone, his hand still pressed firmly over your mouth. "You want me to fill you up? Make a mess of that pretty pussy? Breed you until you're fuckin' stuffed, baby girl?"
Your back arches off the bed, the coil in your belly so tight that you think you might pass out. He's rambling, his thrusts losing rhythm, his breathing getting ragged and choppy, his chest heaving and his thighs shaking.
"That's it" he coaxes when you tighten around him even more, "Can feel it, can feel how close you are. Go on, baby, cum on my cock. Wanna feel that tight, wet cunt cum all over my cock, please, baby."
His hips snap forward, his cock pushing deep into you, the tip rubbing against the spongy spot deep inside you that makes the coil in your belly finally snap. Your eyes roll back, a muffled, broken moan falling from your lips as your entire body convulses, your orgasm washing over you and making your toes curl as your walls flutter around his cock buried to the hilt inside of you.
Joel lets out a deep, low groan, his hips stuttering as he fucks you through your orgasm. His hand slips away from your mouth so he can grip your hips with both hands, his fingers digging into the soft flesh, holding you in place so he can chase after his own release. His chest is tight as he holds in his grunts and groans, but it’s barely any use with the lewd noises that fill the room as your pussy gushes around him, your slick leaking past the tight seal of your walls around him and dripping down to his balls.
"Oh, shit, baby. Christ,” he chokes out, his stomach muscles clenching as his hips slam into yours, his cock pushing impossibly deeper and harder. “Keep makin’ a mess, keep lettin’ me feel it. That’s it. Fuckin’ hell.”
You can feel his cock starting to throb inside of you and you know he’s close. And you can’t stop the words from leaving your mouth, the need to let him know just how good he’s making you feel is destroying any bit of common sense.
“Want you to fill me up,” you whine. “Please, Joel, wanna feel it.”
That’s all it takes. His jaw clenches, his nose scrunching as his eyes squeeze shut. His cock twitches and pulses as he buries himself as deep as he can get before spilling into, filling you with thick, hot ropes of his cum. His hips jerking and stuttering d you clench around him, squeezing and milking him for everything he has while he buries his face in the crook of your neck, muffling his broken, ragged moans against your skin.
"So good,” he whimpers. “Fuckin’ perfect.”
The praise goes straight between your legs and you wrap your arm around his shoulders, trying to pull him closer. He lifts his head, his palm resting on your cheek as he lifts his head and presses his lips against yours, kissing you languidly. His hips rock back and forth lazily, pushing his cum in as deep as he can get it. You melt into the bed underneath him, the only things keeping you tethered to the earth being your fingers combing through his hair and your legs tightening around his waist.
When he finally pulls away, he rests his forehead against yours, and you're both left panting, trying to catch your breath. You listen to the muffled sounds of people downstairs, the movie playing and their drunken voices filtering in through the door, and Joel must be thinking the same thing because he chuckles.
"Well" he says, his thumb rubbing back and forth over your cheekbone, "I don't think anyone heard us."
"You better hope they didn't" you retort, a grin on your face. Joel rolls his eyes. "That's a weird way to say thank you" he teases. You start to laugh, but the sound dies in your throat, morphing to a whimper instead when he starts pulling out his softening cock.
"Joel" you whine, but he doesn't stop. "Joel, please. It's-"
He's not listening, he's too focused on the way his cock looks when he pulls out. The tip slips out of you, and the rest follows, and his eyes widen as he watches a string of thick, sticky cum stretch from the tip of his cock to your cunt. It breaks, falling to your thigh, and he licks his lips. He can't tear his eyes away, watching the way your cunt flutters, and his cum starts to drip out, running down your slit, the obscene sight making Joel's spent cock twitch.
"Shit" he mutters under his breath, "Ain't that a pretty picture."
He reaches down, dragging a finger through the mess of cum and slick and gathering it on his finger before pushing it back into your cunt. You clench around the digit before he sighs and pulls it back out.
"Gonna be leaking all day tomorrow" he murmurs, almost to himself.
You whimper, the thought of having him dripping out of you all day like that has renewed arousal already seeping into your veins.
“It’s okay” he assures you, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll take care ya. Clean you up and put my cock back in right where it belongs, how’s that sound, hm?”
You sigh, nodding, a wave of fatigue washing over you. “Sounds perfect,” you agree.
You watch as he climbs off of you and starts to move, but a sudden, sharp sound of knuckles knocking on the other side of the bedroom door makes you both freeze.
“You two are fucking disgusting!” the voice of your cousin calls out, accompanied by the sound of a couple other people giggling and laughing. “Put some goddamn clothes on and get down here!”
You and Joel exchange glances, his eyes wide and apologetic, his cheeks burning bright red as you give him a look that says I told you so.
“Alright, alright, we’re coming” he yells back.
“We’re coming! Oh, yeah we’re coming!” another voice teases, the sound of everyone bursting out laughing quickly follows.
“We’re never doing that again” Joel mutters and you can’t help but chuckle.
“Yeah right. Keep telling yourself that”
Thank you for reading!!! Plsss let me know if you enjoyed hehehe
#joel miller smut#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x you#joel miller one shot#joel miller fic#the last of us#tlou fic#joel miller#pedro pascal characters
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If you're confused as to why some Jewish people find the Christmas season frustrating...
It can already be annoying even if you're Christian or culturally Christian. If you celebrate Christmas, you're participating in a religious Christian activity, I don't care how atheist you are.
And Christmas is relentless during the next two months. You literally cannot escape it. Christmas-themed decorations are literally everywhere, from people's houses to banners and lights affixed to public lampposts in every downtown area across the nation. Stores, schools, libraries, government buildings. It's everywhere. Half of all the radio stations play non-stop Christmas music. Every store plays a Christmas sound track. Salvation Army bell ringers dressed like Santa outside every big store. TV channels playing Christmas movies. Every online streamer and YouTuber does a Christmas episode. Christians use the season to proselytize, to convert.
The rest of the year, Christianity in the USA is background radiation: it's there, but it's easier to ignore. During Christmas? It's in your face and in your ears 24/7. For the better part of two MONTHS.
And now you have to remember Christianity's history of, you know, killing Jews, forcing them to convert, etc. And remember how people are so resistant to putting up any other kind of holiday decoration. They'll call something a "holiday party", but still only decorate in green and red and forget a menorah.
And maybe it's a little easier to understand why this is all so annoying, at best.
Note: this post isn't saying Christians shouldn't go hog wild. It IS saying that you need to understand that not everyone celebrates Christmas, and will therefore not share in the "Christmas spirit".
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hopeless ☆ heeseung lee
☆ horrendously down bad! heeseung x fem! reader ☆ summary: absolutely no one would have expected the dark, brooding, and rough heeseung lee to be hopelessly head over heels in love with the sweet, oblivious you. especially you. even with the help of practically the entire year, it's almost pathetic the way heeseung struggles to utter three, simple words to you, let alone look you in the eye. ☆ genre: fluff!!! pining, SUPER WHIPPED HEESEUNG, high school! au, non-idol! au, a lot of 01 liner idols + the rest of enha make appearances, btw this follows the asian school system, SO MUCH FLIRTING OMG, heeseung is kinda pathetic and awk ☆ warning(s)? swearing and dumb characters lol, there is one SA scene, but it is not graphic + very minor violence ☆ word count: 10.8k ☆ this is extremely based off of "danger" by bts, especially the lyric "you're cute, and i'm pathetic" lol enjoy!
Heeseung Lee was stressed.
No. He was distraught.
Distraught about how fucking cute you looked today.
Ever since he was a kid, Heeseung loved Halloween, because he loved Trick-or-Treating with his older brother and cousins. However now, at the age of seventeen, he found himself resenting it. Not because there was any issue with the holiday, but because today was Halloween.
From across the classroom, Heeseung found himself staring, all dazed and empty-headed, at you, who was clad in your cute bunny costume. The way the fluffy, white ears stuck out from the top of your head, as well as the fluffy white coat draped around your shoulders, made you look so soft and cozy and adorable. The way your nose crinkled as you laughed with your friends, sweet sounds coming from your lips as you threw your head back.
Were you real? How could anyone be so goddamn beautiful and not be an actual angel sent from above? What country did Heeseung save in his past life in order to get to be in your presence in this life?
"Dude, you're staring," a new voice interjected.
"What?" Heeseung tore his eyes away from you. "I wasn't."
Beomgyu Choi was one of Heeseung's classmates. And, like everyone else in their year, Beomgyu knew how enamored Heeseung was with you. Other than yourself, of course.
"I'm tellin' you," Beomgyu plopped down onto his seat, which was beside Heeseung's. He slid his chair so that he would be closer to his classmate, before throwing an arm around Heeseung. "You need to make a move. Like, now."
Heeseung glanced over at his classmate. If he ignored the fake blood on Beomgyu's chin, as well as the fake, plastic vampire teeth and the god-awful Spirit Halloween Dracula cape, he'd know that Beomgyu was 100% correct.
Everyone (and seriously, everyone) knew that Heeseung Lee had the biggest, juiciest, most obnoxious crush on you. In fact, your own friends had even tasked themselves with the job of putting in a good word for Heeseung, saying things like "Isn't he so cool?" into your ear to hopefully guide you straight into his arms. It's such a well-known fact that some of your teachers have purposefully placed you and Heeseung next to or near each other in order to help him with his more-than-obvious crush.
With such a big, school-wide effort, it should be expected that at least some progress was made.
Wrong!
Not even a single stroke of progress has been made.
Probably because there was one teensy, weensy, eensy, problem: Heeseung was an absolute mess around you. Heeseung was known as this tall, blunt, and rough guy at school. When he wasn't silently judging everyone, he hung out with his group of friends, who had a reputation for being delinquents. Heeseung Lee, clad in his iconic black leather jacket, was intimidating, and usually had no problem speaking up for himself. But around you? Absolutely not.
If anyone thought that Heeseung Lee could easily speak to you, they were out of their goddamn mind. There were too many instances where your classmates would push Heeseung and you together, only for him to blow it because he was completely incapable of looking you in the eye without turning red.
In Heeseung's defense, you were the most beautiful person in the world— How is he not supposed to get nervous?
"You know I can't," Heeseung murmured, clenching his fists.
Beomgyu rolled his eyes. "Whatever, Hee. What happened to banger Heeseung Lee? Heeseung Lee that beats up kids? I didn't think you'd be scared of talking to girls."
"First of all," Heeseung frowned, "I'm not a banger and I don't beat up kids. And also, I'm not scared of talking to girls."
His classmate quirked a brow. "Really?" Heeseung nodded. "Because the last time I remember, you could barely get a word out in front of [Name]."
At the sound of your name, Heeseung jerked in his seat, reaching out to grasp Beomgyu's arm. "Shhhh, don't say her name so loud!" he hissed, eyes quivering over to where you were with your friends.
"What?" Beomgyu looked around indiscreetly. "It's not a secret to anyone how you feel about [Name]."
"Shhhh! Shut up!"
When the bell rang, everyone scurried to their seat, and class began. As Beomgyu tuned out the sound of the teacher's voice, he couldn't help but notice the way Heeseung's eyes were completely glued to you. It was almost laughable, the way the boy's eyes were wide, staring at you like you were some god.
Oh god, Heeseung Lee was hopeless.
"Heeseung-hyung, are you free tomorrow?"
It was lunch time. Heeseung and his friends liked to hang around the rooftop of the school, because it was always empty. And plus, no one wanted to be where Heeseung and his friends were— they were too scary!
Heeseung looked at his younger Australian friend, Jake Sim (or Jaeyun Sim, as his official documents stated), who had just asked that question. Heeseung took a bite of the instant ramen that they bought from the vending machine.
"Yeah, why?"
"Good. Because you have a date with [Name] tomorrow."
Heeseung choked. As he coughed, his other younger friend, Sunoo Kim, let out a whine.
"Hyuuunggg!" Sunoo pouted. "Why'd you tell him?"
"It was supposed to be a surprise!" Riki Nishimura, the group's Japanese foreign exchange student friend, added, elbowing Jake in the ribs.
"Whatever," Jake crossed his arms. When Riki nudged him again, Jake opened his mouth to holler, "Jay, back me up!"
Jongseong "Jay" Park was another one of Heeseung's friends, probably the closest person to him.
"You guys know Heeseung-hyung is going to fuck it up either way, right?" Jay said. "Remember last time?"
"Yeah," Sunghoon Park joined in. "No matter how much we prepared him, Heeseung-hyung still acted like a fucking idiot."
"I'm right here!" Heeseung shouted, still hitting his chest to dislodge the ramen that he choked on.
Jungwon Yang, the seventh person in their friend group, put a hand on the older boy's shoulder, his lips lifting up into a half-teasing grin, revealing sharp canine teeth, "Hyung, don't listen to them. I think you'll really impress [Name] tomorrow."
It was Heeseung's turn to elbow Jungwon in the ribs.
When Heeseung finally finished coughing up a storm, his friends were already onto another topic, making plans for the next weekend.
"Hey, hey!" Heeseung grumbled. "Aren't you guys going to explain this so-called 'date with [Name]'?"
"What's there to explain?" Riki said. "You're going on a date with [Name]. End of story."
The eldest of the group's face contorted. "What are you guys even saying—"
"Well, it's not technically a date," Sunghoon said, taking a sip of his juice box. "You're, like, hanging out with [Name] though."
That still didn't answer Heeseung's question.
"When? Where? What time?" he spluttered, eager for answers.
Jake huffed exasperatedly. "Do we have to explain to you everything? It's not that deep, man."
Jungwon rolled his eyes. "Hyung, [Name]'s friends are the presidents of the Environment and Ecology Club, and there's a social tomorrow. It's like birdhouse painting, or something. [Name] is attending to support her friend, so we signed you up, too."
"Birdhouse painting?!" Sunoo's features morphed into confusion. "I thought they were making bracelets?"
"No, I thought there were weaving baskets?" Riki frowned.
"Whatever it is, it sounds lame as hell," Jay remarked.
Jungwon rolled his eyes again, earning a punch on his arm. "Whatever it is, it'll be a great opportunity for you to talk to [Name]."
The younger boy offered Heeseung a reassuring smile, only to receive a pensive one in return.
When classes resumed, Heeseung felt light-headed and distracted the entire time as he processed the fact that he was going to be around you tomorrow.
Oh god, he sounded like a total loser. Did the mere thought of being in your presence make him nervous? Yes, yes it did. You were just so pretty and sweet, he had no idea what to do. Poor boy, his teeth dug into his bottom lip, clammy palms pressing into the underside of his desk. His knee bounced, and there was absolutely no way that he could even make out a single word the teacher was saying.
Heeseung was going to pass out.
"Hey, Heeseung?"
That's your voice. It was so pretty and nice on his ears. Was he in heaven? He wouldn't be surprised if your voice was the voice of an angel.
"Heeseung?"
Heeseung was convinced that he was in heaven now. What he wouldn't do to hear your voice every second of his life.
"Heeseung!" another voice interjected. That's what snapped Heeseung out of his daze. Too deep in his head, Heeseung hadn't noticed that the class period ended, and the short passing period had already begun.
At his desk stood Yunjin Huh, Minjeong "Winter" Kim, and... oh my god... you. The three of you had somewhat matching Halloween costumes: Yunjin was a gray mouse, Winter was a cat, and you were a bunny. And now that he looked at it, you all were holding a bag of candy.
While your two friends were giving him the"Are you serious?" looks, you looked at him with wide, kind eyes.
"Heeseung?" your beautiful voice said, fingers reaching into the candy bag that you were holding. "Would you like candy?"
He stared at you. You were giving out candy to everyone in class because it was Halloween... You're such an angel... What did the world do to deserve you...
Winter stepped on Heeseung's foot, snapping him out of his daze once again. The boy let out a small yelp in pain, and as the embarrassment settled in, he heard you let out a small giggle, lips raising up to show off your teeth.
Oh my god, he was going to die.
"Y-Yeah," he stammered out, cursing himself internally. Heeseung couldn't help but feel everyone in class's gaze glued to him. When you handed him a piece of candy, your hand brushed up against his. Heeseung could feel his ears becoming hot, the warmth rising to his neck.
You smiled at him, before saying in a sing-songy voice, "Happy Halloween!"
Heeseung had to force himself not to stare like an absolute fool.
He was really hopeless.
hee: jay i don't think i can do it tomorrow
It was 2AM when Heeseung texted Jay. He spent the entire night thinking about the "date" (probably the least necessary word at the moment), and he simply couldn't sleep.
Heeseung had embarrassed himself too many times in front of you. Like that one time you and him were on cleaning duty together, and he was so distracted by you that he tripped over a bucket of water. Or that one time he sat next to you for a few weeks and his shoes kept squeaking against the floor, making it look like he was farting. Or when he tried to look cool and suave in front of you at some social your friends invited him to only to rip a hole in his pants. And then what happened today... He could not embarrass himself again.
hee: like i think i'm going to die if she sits next to me tomorrow
It was only a matter of seconds when his friend texted back.
jay: you'll be fine trust
Heeseung frowned.
hee: stop lying to me
hee: you know how i am around her
jay: i believe in you
jay: like srsly
hee: that's blind faith
Jay typed for a little bit, before stopping altogether. Heeseung huffed. Did his friend just leave him on read? A few minutes later Jay sent a Wikihow article.
'How to talk to your crush,' it was aptly named. Heeseung deadpanned.
hee: are you being fr right now
jay: give [name] your sexy heeseung charm and you'll be walking off into the sunset hand-in-hand with her in no time
jay: read the article btw
How was this guy an actual person?
hee: kill yourself
jay: give her that passionate, sexy, boiling hot, hotter-than-the-sun, steaming hot heeseung that makes her just want to come up to you and give you the fattest, juiciest kiss on the mouth, i know you can do it soldier
hee: DIE
Heeseung couldn't sleep all night.
At school, the entire day was just plagued with anxiety for what was to come. It didn't help that your friends kept turning around and giving him knowing looks throughout the day. When school finally let out, Heeseung went to the classroom where the birdhouse-painting-bracelet-making-basket-weaving social would be held. His friends told him to go there the moment that school ended, but when he came, there was literally no one there.
Until someone yanked him into the classroom.
"Hey!-" he yelped, before the door slammed. In front of him stood two people that he recognized: Sumin Bae and Sieun Park, two of your friends who also coincidentally were the co-presidents of the Environment and Ecology club.
Sumin cocked a brow at him, crossing her arms. "I hope you're not as hopeless as everyone says you are."
Heeseung opened his mouth to respond, but Sieun cut him off.
"Ugh, that doesn't matter," she pinched her nose-bridge. "We told [Name] to sit near the front, so you better sit there, too."
"Right-"
Sumin cut him off, too.
"[Name]'s favorite color is pink, and her favorite Sanrio character is Keroppi," Sumin asserted. "And she really likes things that are cute, so like fruit patterns, hearts, stars, yada yada."
Heeseung blinked at them. "And this is relevant how...?"
Sumin and Sieun shared a look.
"You are completely hopeless."
As it turned out, they were giving him details about design-elements that you liked, so that Heeseung could somehow impress you with his birdhouse painting abilities (Jungwon was right, it was birdhouse painting). After info-dumping on him, they kicked him out of the classroom to actually prepare for the social.
As Heeseung was pushed out of the classroom, he bumped into someone. Just as he was about to say, "Watch where you're going," he realized that it was you.
"Oh, hi, Heeseung!" you greet him cheerfully, your eyes pressing into thin slits as you smile.
Quick! What does he do? "Hi... [Name]."
"Are you here for the social, too?" The way your eyes gazed at him made him feel shy already.
"Y-Yeah...."
"I didn't know you were interested in the Environment and Ecology club..." You remarked, and Heeseung panicked— Was it obvious that he was here exclusively for you?— but what you said next made him sigh in relief. "That's great! I'm so happy that I finally have someone familiar with me here!"
He's going to faint.
When the social began, you invited him to sit next to you. Heeseung felt stiff as he sat beside you, watching the way that you happily painted your small, wooden birdhouse. Heeseung wanted to start a conversation with you, but each time he thought of something to say, his voice caught in his throat. Sumin and Sieun had given him two dirty looks already, so he needed to make a move now or their efforts would be in vain.
"W-What's that?" he finally stuttered out, pointing to the glob of green on your birdhouse.
You laugh airily, leaning closer to him so that he can see it better. "Can you guess?"
Heeseung tries to concentrate on guessing, but it's hard when you're close to him. Quick! What's green and something that you like?
"Is that... K-Keroppi?"
"Yeah!" Your face lit up, flashing him a cheeky grin. You nudged him with your elbow, raising your brows at him playfully. "Awww, Hee, you smarty pants! How'd you know?"
Hee?
OhmygodohmygodohmygodyoucalledhimHee.
You stopped laughing, pulling away from him. "Sorry, do you not like being called Hee? Beomgyu sometimes calls you that, so I thought-"
"No, I like it!" Heeseung blurted, a little louder than he wanted to, earning a few questioning looks from people around him. The boy felt abnormally warm, embarrassed at his outburst. "I-I'm okay with you calling me that..."
"Noted!" you said, before your lips curled upward. "Now... are you going to tell me how you could tell that this green blob was Keroppi?"
"Oh uhm..." Heeseung's lips were moving faster than his head, "Y-You dressed up as Keroppi last year for Halloween with Yunjin."
Almost like you were a cartoon character, you perked up at his statement. "You remember?"
Of course he did. How could he forget? You wore a cartoonishly-big red bow around your neck like Keroppi, and had a green Keroppi-style headband. You looked adorable, especially when you went around showing off a Keroppi keychain that you got at the Cinnamoroll Cafe in Hongdae to anyone that was willing to listen.
Heeseung found himself chuckling. "Of course I'd remember your massive red bow."
You stared at him for a few moments, before a bashful grin broke out on your face. You then buried your face in your hands, letting out a groan. "Ughhhh, that's so embarrassing!"
"How?"
It's going good so far, Heeseung thought. Just don't mess it up!
You pouted cutely, your bottom lip jutting out. In the light, he could see the gloss shining off of it so prettily. "My makeup was so fucked up last year, ughhh, it looked so bad."
You? Look bad? Impossible.
"What are you talking about?" Heeseung asked, his doe-like eyes scanning your embarrassed face. "I thought you looked cute."
You stared at him. It took a few pulses for Heeseung to realize what he just said. His face instantly turned three shades warmer and panic was evident in his expression.
"I-I mean— You jus—You were really—"
He shut his mouth when you began laughing. Laughing so hard that you clutched onto his knee, keeling over yourself. His cheeks burned.
You're laughing at him, aren't you? Did he fuck up?
When you noticed the sulky expression on his face, you stopped laughing.
"Sorry, Hee," you said, giving his knee a reassuring squeeze. "It's just... You look so intimidating, when you're really just a sweetheart."
If Heeseung was red before, he was quietly literally the color of a tomato. It was a wonder that the entire room’s temperature didn’t rise given the sheer amount of heat radiating off his person.
"A s-sweetheart?"
"Yeah!" you happily respond. "You're just the cutest, y'know? Like a little puppy."
As much as Heeseung wanted to die happily now that you called him cute, he needed to keep this conversation going. Sucking in a sharp breath, the boy looked at you in the eyes. "W-Well I think the same about you... [Name]."
You looked at him curiously, so he continued, his voice soft and sheepish, "I... also think that you're the cutest."
You blinked at him a few times, before the widest smile that he'd ever seen spread across your cheeks, stretching ear to ear. If only Heeseung wasn't too busy grappling with his shyness, he'd notice the way you let out a soft, bashful giggle, shaking your head and squeezing your eyes shut to keep yourself from being too visibly flustered. Slowly, with all the courage that you had left in you, you raised your hand and placed it on Heeseung's head. You ruffled his soft locks, gushing, "God, you're so cute, Heeseung!"
The rest of the social is filled with soft chatter between the two of you, but Heeseung was honestly too captivated by you to notice the time passing. With his heart on his sleeve, and a sloppily-painted birdhouse in his hands, Heeseung mentally high-fived himself.
Heeseung's friends never heard the end of it. The moment that he got home, Heeseung spammed their groupchat, giving them paragraphs and paragraphs of the events that ensued.
hee: and then she called me cute. like CUTE CUTE, not even like she was alluding it, she used the word CUTE
hee: oh my god i think i'm gonna faint
His friends don't have it in them to flame him. After all, this was progress.
Unbeknownst to him, you were feeling the same things. Everyone knew that Heeseung liked you, except yourself. You had the opposite case: you've had the biggest crush on Heeseung since middle school, but never told a single soul about it. You're a naturally expressive and sweet person, so it was so incredibly hard hiding your feelings for him.
After all, under that handsome and brooding outer shell, you saw his softness. This past year, you've had so many miscellaneous interactions (at least, it seemed miscellaneous-- everyone but you knew that those interactions were set up) with Heeseung. At the beginning of each interaction, he'd act all mysterious, but as time passed, he'd speak so softly and slowly unravel.
It was so, so cute. Heeseung was so cute. To say you wanted him would be an understatement. No words were sufficient to fully express the nights that you stayed awake thinking about him, or the makeup looks that you intricately practiced to impress him, or the sheer number of times that you had to hide the fact that you were staring at him.
Maybe you couldn't hide it any longer.
"Wait, what?!"
Heeseung's heart dropped to his stomach the moment he heard the words leave his friend's lips. Chenle Zhong was one of you and Heeseung's mutual friends, and according to him, someone had confessed to you via a letter today.
"Are you serious?" Heeseung asked, pulling his bottom lip into his teeth, chewing pensively. "Do you know who wrote it?"
"Nope, but I'll try to get more info on it," Chenle frowned. "Yunjin says that [Name] laughed at the letter."
When Heeseung didn't say anything, Chenle continued. "Hey, man, that could be a sign, y'know?"
When Heeseung's face morphed into a confused expression, his friend added, "Like, maybe [Name] thinks it's a joke? Maybe she doesn't care for it."
That's what Heeseung hoped for.
Later, Chenle texted him a screenshot of the love letter. To say that Heeseung was appalled would be an understatement. The letter read,
'To my dearest [Name], you're as beautiful as the plum blossoms in the spring. Your lips are soft like pillows, pillows that I would love to fall into an eternal in. I love you, I love you, I'll love you until this paper decomposes and becomes a part of the earth, and maybe then they will be able to force me to forget you. Love, your admirer.'
Heeseung immediately sent it to his groupchat.
jakey: yo who invited shakespeare???
hoon: i had a stroke reading that
sunoo: "your lips are soft like pillows" is crazyyy
hee: chenle gave me updates, apparently [name] knows who the sender is
jay: AND WHO IS THE SENDER??
hee: i don't know
hee: but minjeong says that it's someone from class 2
niki: class 2 is full of snobs
jungwon: i'm still in shock because of "i'll love you until this paper decomposes"
hoon: WHAT IF IT'S JUNGSU HYUNG
niki: oh it's SO over for you heeseung-hyung
As it turned out, it was not, in fact, Jungsu Kim from Class 2, thanks to your friends, who were quite wonderful info-brokers. But he still didn't know who it was.
Laying in bed, Heeseung felt weight on his chest. You laughed at the letter. While that could mean that it was a joke, it could also mean that you thought the person writing the letter was funny... which could mean that you liked them back. Just the mere thought of you with someone else made Heeseung frown deeply. This entire time he was worried about how to act around you, completely ignoring the fact that you yourself could be interested in someone else! God, he was so stupid.
Heeseung needed to know who it was that sent it, and more importantly, if you were romantically interested in them.
Fear makes man do crazy things.
Like walking one's crush to school.
Look, Heeseung was mulling over the situation as he walked to school, when he saw you across the street, walking in the same direction as him. In what could only be called an adrenaline-high, Heeseung ran across the street up to you.
"[Name]!" he called out.
"Heeseung?—Oh my god!"
Poor boy was breathless, flushed in the face. It took him a few moments to catch his breath. Flashing you a grin, Heeseung said, "Let's walk to school together, [Name]."
You're silent for a few moments, before you return the smile. "Of course."
The walk was silent, only the sound of early morning traffic, footsteps against the concrete sidewalk, and the occasional sniffle courtesy of you filling the cold air between the two of you. Speaking of which, your sniffles began to get louder and more frequent. Now out of adrenaline, Heeseung was back to being shy.
Clearing his throat, Heeseung forced his voice out. "Are you— Are you sick?"
You sniffled again, bringing your hand up to swipe your nose. The two of you were at an intersection now, so you pressed the pedestrian button. "No, I just get sniffly when it's cold."
That's. So. Cute. Was what Heeseung was thinking. The way you were rubbing your hands together made you look so adorable, he just wanted to put you in his pocket.
He must have been staring at you for a while, back in his you-loving daze, because Heeseung did not notice that the streetlight changed, and it was time for the pedestrians to pass.
Not to worry!
Heeseung was completely kicked out of his daze when your smaller hand grabbed his, pulling him along the street. His eyes were glued to the two of your hands, especially where they connected. For someone sniffly, your hands were warm. He liked the way that they fit in his.
Even in the cool morning air, Heeseung suddenly felt warm all over.
You were in the middle of the sidewalk when Heeseung stopped. Feeling bold, he dropped his schoolbag, and began slipping off his thick, black, leather jacket, before draping it over your shoulders.
When you looked up at him with those curious doe eyes, all his boldness went away.
"Y-You're cold aren't you?" He avoided looking you in the eyes. "Just... Just take it. Y-You can give it back later... or whatever."
You giggled, slipping your arms into the sleeves.
God, you looked so cute in his jacket. Heeseung was going to melt.
And he did melt, because you began doing cute twirls to show off the jacket, posing for him.
"How do I look?" you cheekily asked, popping your leg up.
Heeseung was speechless, his mouth just left agape. He had to force himself to speak.
"Cute..." he answered, barely audible.
A grin was growing on your face. "Sorry, I didn't hear you. How do I look?"
Heeseung squeezed his eyes shut, huffing. "I said you looked cute!"
The sight of Heeseung's pink cheeks and his cute little pout was enough for you to be satisfied. Before the boy could realize what he said, you picked up his school bag for him, shoving it into one of his hands, before snatching his free hand. You pulled him gently to continue walking, but Heeseung was frozen in place, eyes too busy on you.
"Heeeeee," you elongated your syllables. You squeezed his hand twice, tugging him again. "We can't be late to class, can we?"
Heeseung audibly gulped. "Y-Yeah. You're right.."
You guys began walking again, neither of you wanting to let each other’s hands go.
"And then she held my hand— Isn't that crazy?! She held my hand!"
"Heeseung-hyung, please, I am peeing right now."
It was the lunch period once again. As Heeseung and Sunghoon traversed the hallways to get to the stairwell, the older of two chatted about the events that morning.
"So you held her hand?" Sunghoon asked half-heartedly, barely listening. "And then what?"
Heeseung perked up. "And then we walked to class together, and then she—"
"That's cool and all," the younger friend was walking in front of him. Sunghoon turned over his shoulder. "But did you get any more information about the letter fiasco?"
Oh.
No, Heeseung didn't.
When they reached the rooftop, his friends gently nudged him to get more information about the letter.
"You don't want to have one of those 'too late' moments, right?" Jungwon said, chewing on his rice ball. "What if by the time you gather the courage to talk to her, [Name] is already walking off into the sunset hand-in-hand with her secret admirer?!"
"What's with you guys and walking off into the sunset..." Heeseung muttered, running a hand through his hair.
"I'm serious, hyung!"
"I second that," Jay said lazily.
"I second that," Riki mocked in a squeaky voice, earning him a soft smack at the back of his head.
"Well, what am I supposed to do?" Heeseung asked, frustrated. "I can talk to her or her friends later, but not right now."
Jake scoffed. "What's stopping you from going back inside and talking to [Name] right now?"
The eldest boy didn't have an answer. That's true. There wasn't anything stopping Heeseung from talking to you right now. All the boys were now watching him for an answer, ready to pounce on him for being a coward.
"I don't know!" Heeseung finally said. "I've used up all of my bravery today... I don't think I have it in me to talk to her!"
His friends stared at him questioningly, until the silence was broken by Sunoo taking a loud and very obviously fake phonecall.
"Hi! Yes! Mhm. He's right here. Yeah. Mhm. Thank you!"
Sunoo hung up loudly, and looked at Heeseung with a cocked brow. "I was just on the phone with Yunjin. She says you should probably go talk to [Name]."
Heeseung looked at Sunoo incredulously, but the expectant expressions on his friends' faces made him groan.
"Fine!"
As Heeseung creeped down the school hallway, he came to the classroom that you hung out in at lunch: your homeroom. Standing outside the door, the boy took a deep breath.
Relax, it's just [Name], he had to tell himself, as if that helped at all. What was he even going to say?
'Hey, are you dating the person that sent you that letter? If you aren't, do you want to get married to me? Haha.'
????
Just as Heeseung was about to slide the door open, he heard a very familiar laugh from inside. Of course he could recognize it. After all, it was you.
"Yuri is so cute!" he heard you giggle. "She wrote me that little letter as a joke, but I think I'm actually in love with her."
In.
Love.
With.
Her.
"Awww, Yuri, come here and give me a kiss!"
Come.
Give.
You.
A.
Kiss.
"I'm gonna marry you, Yuri!"
Marry.
You.
Yuri.
To Heeseung, everyone was an enemy. No matter their gender or class, the moment that he heard that you got a love letter, everyone became a suspect. It all made sense now. Yuri Jo, the 'Yuri' that you were talking about and to, was from Class 2. He knew that you and her were friends, but he didn't know that you were romantically interested in her.
Jungwon was right. Now you were going to walk off into the sunset hand-in-hand with her!
hee: guys what if [name] is already taken :(
jakey: what are you on about this time
There was something scary about a 6-feet tall guy mulling around and sulking all day, so luckily no one got in Heeseung's way as he brooded. Unfortunately, he felt his heart hurt whenever he looked at you. Almost cartoonishly, he'd turn away, close his eyes in dramatic pain, and pout. Although he acted a little bit theatrical, it was no doubt that Heeseung felt sad. He really thought he had a chance with you, and now he felt stupid.
Except, he was stupid.
But for a different reason.
"Jesus Christ, you're actually hopeless, Heeseung."
After school, your friends cornered him, somewhere where you wouldn't see. His friends were somehow in close communication with your friends.
"I can't believe you thought me and [Name] were actually dating!"
Heeseung scowled, crossing his arms over his chest, as he leaned against a locker. Before him stood Yunjin, Winter, Yuri, along with a few other of your friends, Hitomi and Minju.
"I don't know!" Heeseung huffed. "Everyone is an enemy to me—” he glanced at Yuri— “Including Yuri.”
Yunjin scoffed in disbelief. "You're insane."
Soooo... You weren't in any romantic relationship with anyone. Yuri sent you that letter as a joke, and you were just really close to her. Good.
"I don't know how I feel about this guy getting with our [Name]," Winter muttered to Hitomi and Minju, but loud enough for Heeseung to hear.
"Hey!"
"I know, he's a total dumbass," Minju grumbled back.
"Dude, I'm right here!"
Hitomi rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Well, are you free on Friday after school?"
"Yeah, why?" They always asked Heeseung that question when they had some crazy plan up their sleeve. Not like he was any better.
"Wellll," Hitomi began in a sing-songy voice. "[Name] really wants to go to that Cinnamoroll Sweet Cafe in Hongdae on Friday, but none of us are available."
Heeseung nodded slowly.
"I think it'd be a good way for you to get closer to her, dontcha think?"
And that's how Heeseung scored his first (unofficial) date with you
When your friends told you that Heeseung would accompany you to Hongdae, you almost jumped for joy. Almost. Friday couldn't come any faster. The plan was that you'd meet Heeseung at the train station at 4:30PM, meaning that you had a bit of time to change and get ready. You didn't want to get too ahead of yourself and call it a date, but oh boy did you want to.
What were you going to wear? What if you were too formal? Should you go for a casual look or something more put-together? You needed to impress him!
When Friday came, you practically ran home to get ready. You perfected your makeup, and put on your prettiest outfit. Spraying yourself with your signature perfume, you looked in the mirror. Hopefully, he'll like how you look.
At the corner of your eye, you spot a black, leather jacket. His black, leather jacket. Without even thinking, you slinked toward it, slipping into the jacket. It smelled like him, the faint scent of his cologne lingering on the leather.
With a final glance in the mirror, you left for the train station.
On the other hand, to say that Heeseung was nervous for the date was an understatement. His heart was about to fall out of chest. He changed into something more casual, made sure to brush out his disheveled hair, and reapplied his cologne. He came to the train station 20 minutes early, just in case something went terribly wrong. He glanced at his phone. For the date, he managed to get a hold of your number, for “communication purposes.” He’d wanted to text you all week, but didn’t have the courage to.
“Hee?” your soft voice calling his name got his attention. Behold, you standing there before him, all dolled up and pretty. This must be the sight he’ll see when he enters heaven, he thought.
“Hi,” he said, his eyes glazing over your face. You were so pretty. Did you dress up for him? He didn’t want to get ahead of himself, but the idea that you wanted to look good for him made Heeseung’s heart skip a beat. “You look…”
He didn’t mean to say that. You smile bashfully. “I look…?”
“So pretty,” Heeseung breathed. “You look so pretty.”
“Thank you,” you smile. Your fingers reach for the hem of his shirt, playing with it, which sends his heart racing. “Well, I think you look handsome, Hee.”
“Th-Thanks.”
The two of you stare into each other’s eyes for a few moments, and Heeseung swears that you’re looking at his lips. You spoke up, breaking the silence. “You notice anything about me?”
Heeseung grasped the collar of his jacket gently with both hands. “My jacket.”
“I was going to give it back to you earlier,” you begin, eyes trained on his lips, “But I think I’ll keep it for today, yeah? Since I look so pretty in it.”
“Oh fuck,” Heeseung cursed under his breath, loud enough for you to hear it and giggle. “Yeah, you can keep it for as long as you want.”
“As long as I want?” you purred, taking a step closer to him. Although it wasn’t clear to anyone else, you were a mess inside. Your heart was palpitating so hard that you could hear it in your ears. Your throat felt dry, and your hands were shaking with mere anxiety and excitement. “What about forever?”
Heeseung cracked a grin. “Do whatever you want. You’re pretty.”
If it wasn’t for the train announcement, you thought you would have kissed his pretty lips right then and there. Taking Heeseung’s hand, you led him to your train cart.
“Let’s go, Hee.”
The train is much more packed than you expected, but it was the beginning of the weekend after all. The trip from Gyeonggi Province to Hongdae should take no less than an hour. Unfortunately, because of the amount of people in the train, you and Heeseung had to stand for the majority of the time. It should have been uncomfortable, but it simply wasn't. Because you were with Heeseung.
Standing only a few inches away from the boy, your chests almost pressed against each other. You could feel his breath fan your cheeks. The both of you held onto the pole, hands barely brushing against each other when the cart shook against the rails.
At some point, the shaking was a lot more aggressive than it had previously been. Instinctively, your hand reached for his broad shoulders for stability. Likewise, Heeseung reached for your waist, holding you in place. You and Heeseung shared a long, drawn-out look, eyes getting lost in one another's, before you both avert your gazes shyly, muttering, "sorry." Yet, neither of you moved your hands from their newfound positions.
As minutes passed on the train, your eyes were glued to Heeseung, at least when he wasn't watching.
You loved the reddish blush that naturally decorated his under-eyes, and the natural corally red at tinted the tip of his ears. His glossy eyes and heart-shaped lips had to be your favorite feature of his, if not for his large, yet delicate hands, so gentle and soft.
You were deep in thought when you suddenly felt a hand creeping on your leg. Nimble fingers from behind, brushing up against the hem of your dress. From the corner of your eye, you saw an older man. He looked unkempt and scruffy, like a delinquent– but nothing like Heeseung. Heeseung looked much better than him.
The man reeked of cigarettes and musk. A nasty grin spread across his face as he peered down at your exposed legs. His hands creeped toward them again, now slightly pushing your dress up. Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip, your entire body stiffening. Your heart began to pound in your chest, your cheeks and skin feeling hot.
Panic overtook your system. Your once soft breaths became much shorter and quicker, inhaling and exhaling shallow air.
You’ve never been in a situation like this; you’d never wished, thought, or even considered something like this happening to you– why would you? You had no idea what to do, and were not at all prepared for this. The train was packed to the brim, this man was much bigger and stronger than you, and you did not know how to fight.
The hand moved past your skirt, now under it and directly in contact with your skin. The hand felt dirty, brushing against you. A small frantic whimper escaped your lips when the man’s hand squeezed your bare thigh. It was a small sound, barely audible in the vast bustle of the subway. However, someone did hear it.
Heeseung, doe-eyed and lost in his own world, immediately darted his eyes over to you the moment he heard a sound of discomfort.
When your eyes met, you could only signal helplessly. Your gaze was wide, pupils dilated, with fear and panic. Heeseung’s eyes narrowed, staring into your eyes for a moment before analyzing your expression. The way you were extremely tense and overwrought casted a sense of suspicion in his head, and your eyes that were seemingly pleading him made him think.
Help, your eyes said.
Heeseung’s dark eyes flickered from your face, to your entire body language, and back to your face, before he spotted a few, foreign fingers creeping around your leg area.
Your shifty eyes kept moving from Heeseung’s to the side, but now that he looked at it, it was like they were pointing behind you. And lo and behold, behind you was a musky pervert, who was shamelessly touching you.
“[Name]…” he whispered. His fists clenched, teeth gritting. He sucked in a deep breath, feeling anger build up in his stomach. You whimpered again in response. He brought a hand to ghost over your shoulder, pushing you very, very, gently to the side. “Move.”
He wound up his fist and sent the hardest punch he could muster to the man square in the jaw.
The man lurched back immediately, his hand moving far, far, away from you. A groan left his lips, his head being thrown back in pain. The man’s fall had pushed a few other people down as well. Other bystanders watched on in shock. Some took out their phones to record and take pictures, others to tell their friends.
You just stood still, leaning into Heeseung, whose fist was a faint red color. With a very careful hand, he brushed the lifted hem of your dress down, which had been messed with earlier.
The man quickly got up once he noticed the new and tense silence over the subway cart.
“Hey!” he shouted, pushing himself up from his downtrodden position. “You little punk, who the fuck do you think you-”
The train announcer called for the stop. Heeseung, ignoring the man, took your arm, pulling you out the door. Before he himself left, Heeseung landed a kick to the man’s crotch, muttering, “Fucking bastard.”
"W-Wait, Hee-!"
Heeseung was silent as the train doors opened, only pulling you along with him. When the two of you were far from the train, he finally stopped, turning to you.
"Are you okay?" was all he asked. You shifted uncomfortably at the thought of what happened earlier.
"Y-Yeah..." you played with the hem of his jacket sheepishly. "Thanks for what you did back there."
Heeseung jolted up at the mention. He didn't love using violence, despite his 'delinquent' reputation, especially in front of you. His hands joined yours at the hem of his jacket, shyly brushing up against yours.
"Next time," he began, beginning to play with the zipper, "I'll fight every person on that train so that you can sit."
You smiled softly. "You don't have to do that, Hee."
Heeseung slowly zipped up his jacket on you, meeting your eyes, before straightening out your collar.
"But I want to," he breathed. You gazed at him. His hands were still on the collar of the jacket, close to your face. You noticed the red smudges on his knuckles from punching the man on the train. You took that hand, opening it up, and nuzzling your cheek into it. You took his other hand. To Heeseung's surprise, you pressed soft kisses on his knuckles, rubbing them with your thumb.
"What are you..." his breath hitched when your eyes flickered to his, holding steady eye-contact.
You pressed one last kiss on his palm. "Thank you, Hee. Really."
"Of course, [Name]," he finally whispered. "Anything for you."
And so, your first date with Heeseung began.
The sweet scent of cinnamon and pastries hit your noses the moment you guys stepped into the Cinnamoroll Cafe. When you were seated, you took a look at the menu. So far, the date was going smoothly. Other than the run-in at the beginning, the chemistry between the two of you was sparking. The conversation was flowing, and if that already wasn't a dream come true, you kept touching Heeseung. On your end, you were practically vibrating in your seat with the sheer amount of excitement you had bubbling in you. You couldn't believe you were on a date with the Heeseung Lee sharing a strawberry banana parfait.
"Hee," you said, motioning him to come closer to you. He did, so you cupped his cheek, bringing your thumb up to wipe a stray piece of the parfait from his cheek.
"Oh-" Heeseung's face reddened. How embarrassing! Did you think he was a slob now? You only giggled, bringing both hands up to hold his face. You squished the boy's cheeks, laughing at the way his brows cutely crashed into each other.
"You're so cute, Hee," you said, playing with his cheeks. "The cutest."
That's all you, he thought. You're going to drive him crazy.
Or, at least he thought he thought.
Did he just say that out loud? Heeseung groaned when you threw your head back laughing, hiding his own face in your palms. You chuckled.
Feeling bold, you cupped his cheeks again. You leaned closer, holding his face close to yours. You kissed a soft and chaste kiss on his nose. You couldn't help the heat that rose to your cheeks as the boy flopped over the table, hiding his face in his arms. You ran your fingers through his hair comfortingly, cooing at his cuteness.
"You can't do this to me," Heeseung murmured.
You laughed. It wouldn't hurt to tease him a little more, right? You leaned down, giving the boy another kiss. This time, though, you kissed the top of his head.
"Hee, baby, you're just the cutest, you know that right?"
Heeseung combusted.
After the Cafe, Heeseung and you walked around the Hongdae Festival Street. By now, it was beginning to get darker outside, the air cooling down. It was cold, but to Heeseung, it was perfect, because now he had an excuse to hold your hand. As the two of you walked and talked, you enjoyed the sight of the lights and bustling street.
Suddenly, a new voice interrupted the two of you's conversation. Turning around, you saw two guys who looked around your age. They were holding a camera and a microphone.
"Hi!" they said, smiling. "We're interviewing couples in Hongdae, would you guys like to be in it? We’ll blur your faces."
Heeseung glanced your joined hands, then back at the two guys, then back at your hands, "O-Oh, we're not a coupl—"
You cut him off. "Of course, we'd love to!"
You flashed Heeseung a grin, squeezing his hand twice, almost as if to say, 'Just go with it.' His ears began to burn, his neck prickling with warmth, before clearing his throat. "Y-Yeah..." he squeezed your hand, "We'd love to."
The two guys cheered, turning on their camera. "All right, first question. How did you guys meet?"
"We went to middle school together," you were quick to answer. "I thought he was really cute, but we didn't start talking until this year."
You didn't know what the fuck you were saying. Was it risky to be so truthful for an internet interview, right in front of your long-time crush? Absolutely. But your heart was pounding so hard in your chest, simply waiting for Heeseung's response.
On the other hand, Heeseung's mind was in complete shambles. Were you telling the truth? The way you answered so smoothly with absolutely no hesitation made it almost seem natural.
"And you?" the interviewer asked. "What did you think about her when you first met?"
"I—" Heeseung's breath hitched. "I thought she was the most beautiful person I'd ever seen."
The way you glanced at him made Heeseung's heart feel like it was about to fall out. "I.. I still think that."
Your expression was unreadable, your lips pressing into a thin line. Then, a huge smile broke out on your face.
"Awww, Heeeee! I didn't know you thought about me like that!" You squeezed his hand again, and he squeezed it back.
"How long have you guys been together?" the interviewer asked.
"We just started dating!" You answered enthusiastically, a weird, surprised sound coming from Heeseung.
The rest of the interview went smoothly, with you mostly answering the questions. You quietly thanked the interviewers, and you and Heeseung were on your way.
Your words kept ringing in Heeseung's head.
Especially your answer to the question, "Why did you like him?"
You answered, "Because he's so perfect."
Heeseung? Perfect? He couldn't believe his ears! Were you telling the truth?
A calm silence fell over you and Heeseung as you walked the bustling streets of Hongdae. That question lingered in his mind, and before he knew it, his mouth was moving faster than his mind.
"Did you mean anything you said?"
His voice seemed to reverberate against the night air, ringing in his ears. You chewed on your lip. Then, you sucked in a sharp breath.
"Of course, Hee," you finally answered. "If it's you, I mean everything."
Heeseung sucked his bottom lip into his teeth, biting down so hard he drew blood. Once again, his hands found home on the hem of his jacket draped over you.
"Good." He couldn't meet your eyes, not with the knowledge that you meant everything you said. He forced his attention onto the hem of the leather jacket that you were wearing, too shy to look at you.
Heeseung only looked up when he felt your thumb pressing against his lip, eyes widening.
"Don't bite your lip too hard, Hee," you said, a smile in your voice. You thumb swiped against his lip, wiping off the small blotch of blood on it. "You'll bleed, and I'll have to kiss it better."
Heeseung's tongue darted out to swipe over his bleeding lip, brushing against your thumb. "What if I want you to kiss it better?"
"Well, then you better not keep me waiting."
His eyes flickered to your lips. He wanted to kiss them so bad. They looked so soft. What would they taste like? You liked strawberries— maybe they'd taste like that. When he didn't say or do anything, you changed the topic, unable to hide the disappointment in your face.
"Did you mean it?" You asked. "When you said that I was the most beautiful person you'd ever seen?"
"Oh my god, yes," Heeseung said under his breath, eyes still trained on your lips. "Always."
Another silence fell of you two, simply getting lost in each other's eyes. Maybe it was something in the Hongdae air, but Heeseung felt brave. His hand slithered to your waist, bringing you closer to him. When you slid your hands up his chest, resting them on his shoulders, Heeseung audibly gulped. Your faces inched closer and closer, until you could feel his breath against your cheek. You wanted to lean in and close the gap so bad. And you could tell that he wanted to, too.
Just as you were about to, however, the sound of a car honking and tires screeching interrupted you. Heeseung instinctively pulled away, his head whipping around to look at the commotion.
Oh hell no.
You were not going to let that stop you.
You snatched Heeseung's hand, before pulling him with you. You don't know how much you ran, or for how long, but you ran and ran until you found an empty alleyway.
You pushed him against the hard, concrete wall, a bit harsher than you expected too. Holding him by his shoulders, you put all your weight on him, caging him against the wall.
"You'd let me kiss you, right?" you rasped, out of breath.
Heeseung, also breathless, stared at you, lips parted.
"I thought I already said," he breathed, "Do whatever you want. You're pretty."
With that, you crashed your lips onto his. His lips were soft, a little chapped. It felt so surreal. The scent of his cologne made you feel dizzy. When you pulled away, it was evident that he was feeling the same as you were.
It was a chaste kiss, but the tension was so thick in the air. Somehow, that made it even more intimate.
"Wow..." was all Heeseung could utter. Under the moonlight, with you pressed up against him, you looked so goddamn pretty. Your face was illuminated with the pale light, making you look like an angel. Was he in heaven? Did he die yet? He wouldn't mind if he died right then and there, now that you (you!) kissed him. "Fuck, you're gonna kill me, [Name]."
"But you'd like it, right? Because I'm so pretty." The teasing tone in your voice would normally make Heeseung melt, but all he could do was grin.
"You know I would."
The rest of the night, you and Heeseung don't kiss anymore. Not because you guys didn't want to kiss, but because the adrenaline wore off, and now the both of you were shy. It was almost comical, the way both of you completely reverted back to your bashful and sheepish selves, barely able to make eye-contact with each other.
"Thank you for tonight, Hee," you hummed, as you and Heeseung walked to the train station, hand-in-hand. "I had a lot of fun."
He scanned your face. The slight curve on your lips (oh god, your lips, the way the corner of your lip had a smudge of lipstick from kissing him earlier —how badly he wanted to kiss them again) was contagious. "Of course. I had a lot of fun, too."
The train ride back was quiet. You eventually began dozing off, resting your head on his shoulder.
"You did what?!" was the collective reaction of both you and Heeseung's friends. After that Friday together, you called together all of your friends to your house, to spill the beans. Likewise, Heeseung forced every single one of his friends into his living room.
"Ouuu, you little flirt!" Yunjin exclaimed. Currently, Yunjin, Winter, Hitomi, Yuri, and Minju were seated on your bedroom floor, while you dramatically flopped around on your bed.
It was now that you explained to your friends your long-time crush on Heeseung, much to their pleasant surprise.
"And then what happened?" Minju asked, filing her finger-nails. "Did you profess your undying love for him?"
You groaned into your pillow. "I can't!"
"Why not?" Winter quirked a brow. "You guys literally kissed."
You let out another groan. "What if he doesn't like me like that?"
Your friends deadpanned.
Heeseung Lee didn't like you. He loved you. They would know better than anyone.
"[Name], honey, you're overthinking it," Yuri nudged you with her foot. "He gave you his jacket. I think that says enough."
"Well, what if I'm just getting ahead of myself and he's just being nice?"
"Girl..."
Heeseung had a similar reaction.
All of his friends stared at him like he just punched their grandmothers.
"You can't be serious right now, hyung..." Sunghoon said, pinching his nose-bridge.
All of his friends were piled onto one couch, while Heeseung laid out on the one across from them, almost like they were in a therapy session.
"What if she just thinks I'm a good friend?" Heeseung used his hands to speak, theatrically moving them.
"What makes you think that?" Sunoo asked incredulously.
Heeseung groaned. "[Name] tells Yuri Jo that she wants to marry her and they're good friends."
"Okay, and?"
"Well," Heeseung huffed. "What if [Name] kissed me because she sees me the same way that she sees Yuri?"
"Well, I'm good friends with Jungwon-hyung and I don't kiss him," Riki said matter-of-factly.
"Right..." Jungwon nodded his head slowly. "Hyung, do you really think a good friend would pin you against a wall and kiss you?"
"Do you think a good friend would kiss you three times and then call you cute like a bajillion other times?!" Jake chimed in.
"Let alone choose to keep your jacket?!" Jay sounded tired.
Heeseung clasped his hands together, thinking for a few moments.
"Yes."
All of his friends groaned in defeat.
"You're hopeless."
After a lot of urging and cross-communication between friend-groups, both of your friends managed to convince both you and Heeseung to confess to each other the next Monday.
"What if I faint the moment she says my name?" Heeseung catastrophized to Jay in the school bathroom.
"Uh, I doubt that, hyung."
Heeseung texted you to meet him under the stairwell, and that was when he was going to confess. On your end, the moment that he texted that, you decided that you'd confess to him then.
When the time came, Heeseung headed out to the stairwell. His hands were clammy, and even when he wiped him on his uniform pants, he couldn't stop the trembling of his hands. What if everyone was instilling false hope in him? Gosh, Heeseung thought he was going to throw up. His stomach was churning, he was going to collapse if he saw you right now—
"Hee?" Your voice broke him out of his internal spiral. Seemingly, there was a halo around you, a light so bright that Heeseung was blinded.
"H-Hi," he stammered, straightening out his posture and clearing his throat.
Your hands were clasped behind your back, leaning forward toward him. "You wanted to talk to me, yeah?"
Heeseung couldn't bring himself to meet your gaze, his shoes suddenly becoming interesting. "Y-Yeah..."
The hallway where the stairwell was located was beginning to feel stuffy. Heeseung had never felt so nervous in his life. He was light-headed, barely able to even balance himself.
"Hee," you reached out to touch his arm, noticing his discomfort. "Let's go outside, okay?"
Going outside should have helped him cool down, but when you shrugged on his leather jacket to combat the cool air, Heeseung realized that there was no way in hell that he was going to get through this confession without dropping dead.
The two of you walked around the school yard for a few minutes in silence.
How should he start this confession? He had Sunghoon and Jake write out a script for him, and he spent the entire night memorizing it, but now in your presence he couldn't remember a single word. Should he have written a letter like Yuri Jo? Heeseung couldn't possibly contain himself.
"Hee," you finally said, disrupting the silence. "I have something to tell you."
Heeseung's mind wandered to the worst case scenario.
You're going to tell him that you're moving across the world to marry the love of your life, aren't you? You're going to say that he's a great friend and that you just got a boyfriend, right?
No, he needed to tell you his feelings first! If he didn't now, he'd never, and he'd burst into a million pieces!
"M-Me too!" he blurted, stopping in his tracks.
You blinked at him, then smiled.
Oh, no! It's actually happening!
He could already hear your voice saying, "Hi, Heeseung, my boyfriend just proposed to me and you're invited to the wedding."
You sucked in a breath, parting your lips to speak.
He needed to tell you first! The little demons in his head kept replaying the scene of you asking him to be your groom of honor at your wedding with the love of your life next Saturday. He could hear the marriage officiant announcing, “I now pronounce you husband and wife” at your wedding, and he imagined himself sitting in that little wedding venue holding back tears.
Oh my god, he needed to say it now, or he'll never say it ever!
"Hee, I really--"
Heeseung cut you off. He squeezed his eyes shut, hands balling into fists.
"I like you, [Name]!" he yelled.
.
.
.
You stared at him in disbelief. Or were you flustered? Heeseung couldn't tell. With too much adrenaline in his veins, Heeseung threw away all the preparation and drafted scripts he and his friends made for this very moment.
"I-I.. I like you so much, I'm scared that I'm going to explode!" Heeseung continued shouting at you. He had no idea what he was saying. All he was doing was telling you the thoughts he'd had about you all this time. "You're so, so, so pretty and I can't believe that you're an actual, real, physical, person, and you make me feel so fucking stupid, I can't take it."
Your eyes were bulging out of your head at this point, your jaw dropped.
"I've never liked anyone like I've liked you, a-and I just wanted to tell you this before you... you go off with someone else!"
Heeseung kept his eyes shut when he was done confessing, letting out a labored breath. There was no way that he could face you. The silence that fell over the two of you made Heeseung's heart sink to the bottom of his stomach. He squeezed his eyes in embarrassment. He gripped the hem of his shirt to relieve the bubbling anxiety inside him. Gosh, he was going to puke.
After a few moments, nothing happened. You didn't say a word. Did you just leave him there standing? Of course, you did. You were probably too kind and angelic to outright reject him. He was a fool to think that he had a chance with you—
Heeseung heard footsteps, and before he could react, he felt a pair of lips on his.
His eyes shot open.
You.
Were.
Kissing.
Him.
!!!
After he confessed!
Poor boy was so stiff, eyes wide.
Did that mean you liked him back?
You pulled away.
Usually, you had a reassuring smile on your face by default. Even during times where you were embarrassed, you almost never showed it on your face.
But this time, your entire face was painted with a flustered expression. Your cute lips jutted out in a mini pout, while your eyes were glued to the ground, avoiding his gaze.
A few pulses passed.
"I... I like you, too... by the way," you murmured.
Another few pulses passed.
You. Liked. Him.
Nonononono wait, was he dreaming?
You.
YOU.
The beautiful, angelic you.
Liked him.
Without thinking, Heeseung stepped forward, gently grabbing your face.
"You're real, right?" he breathed. When glossy eyes stared back at him, Heeseung felt warmth spread across his chest. Your lips looked so appealing right now, he was craving them again. "I'm not dreaming, yeah?"
You blinked at him a few times. The corners of your lips quirked upward.
"Why, because I'm 'so pretty that you can't believe I'm real?' " your voice had a teasing tone in it, referencing his earlier confession. Heeseung chuckled, letting go of your face so that he could slide his hands to where they belonged: around your waist.
"Just kiss me," he mumbled, looking at you with lidded eyes.
You grinned. "Gladly."
With that, you smashed your lips onto his. Instead of the chaste, soft, kisses that you shared earlier, this one was different. You shoved your tongue into Heeseung's mouth, exploring all its crevices. Poor boy was so surprised that he squeezed your waist, letting out a small whine. The feeling of you smirking against his lips gave him butterflies.
You finally pulled away breathless, but gave him no time to breathe. You grasped his chin, giving you easy control.
"You drive me so crazy," he murmured against the shell of your ear.
You pressed a kiss at the juncture between his neck and ear. "I drive you crazy?" you cocked your brow.
"You," you muttered. You began pressing kisses down his jaw.
“Drive.”
Kiss.
“Me.”
Kiss.
“So-”
Kiss.
"Fucking-"
Kiss.
"Crazy."
Before you could pounce on him with more kisses, Heeseung, red in the face, flopped over you, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. He let out a cute groan.
"What, are you getting shy on me?" you teased him, running your fingers through his hair. He shook his head against your shoulder, making you coo.
"I can't believe you like me back, that's all," he mumbled, muffled by your shoulder.
You laughed. "How? I feel like I was so obvious."
Heeseung looked up at you with pink cheeks, frowning. "You don't even want to know how hopelessly in love with you I was."
You quirked a brow at him.
"Yeah?" You pecked his forehead. "Try me."
Heeseung let out a breathy chuckle. He attacked your lips.
"How about I show you?"
FIN.
likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated :)
#enhypen#enhypen x reader#enhypen fluff#enhypen imagines#enhypen fic#heeseung#heeseung x reader#heeseung fluff#heeseung imagines#heeseung enhypen#lee heeseung#star-sim#vanya writes
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Thinking about your first christmas spent with Alexis Ness.
Germany's streets were full of bright red and green lights. The buzzling of people buying presents for their loved ones filled the stores, and a common yet gentle christmas melody rung in the air, creating a movie-like scenario.
Amongst the seemingly infinite crowd of people, you and your boyfriend, Alexis Ness, walked hand in hand through a busy Munich. It was one of his rare off weeks. I guess even Bayern's managers know about the whole christmas' spirit thing and decided to give their player a little break.
"Look, Lexis! It's snowing!" You smiled, stretching your free hand to touch a little snowflake that fell from the night sky. The night was so cold that little puffs of hair could be seen when you spoke "Isn't it beautiful?"
"Yes, meine Liebe" he said, looking straight at you and not even once sparing a glance at the snowflake. How could he, when the prettiest one he's ever known was right in front of him, holding his hand like she'd die if she let go? "It is."
Ness' parents never celebrated Christmas. Actually, they never celebrated any holidays. This was the first christmas he was really getting to enjoy. And all because of you, his sweet girlfriend. God, just thinking about you made his heart combust.
How did he bag you, really?
"Come on! We need to be quick or else the book store is going to be closed by the time we get there!" You laughed, pulling him with you and running.
"Slow down, Angel!" He laughed, tightening his hold on your hand and running after you, muttering a quick "Sorry" to the people you both bumped into.
Your matching Harry Potter houses scarfs flowing in the wind together created a beautiful picture, and your laughs mixed with the sound of christmas songs and bells. One hand holding yours and the other holding his hat so it wouldn't fall, Ness tried to drink in every single milimeter of you, wanting to keep the picture of your smiling face in his memory forever.
He was really enjoying this. Was christmas always this fun?!
"Willkommen!" Said the sweet bookstore lady. She was a short old woman with round glasses and a gentle smile on her face. She matched the christmas vibe perfectly "What do you lovebirds want?" She smiled at you both, which made Alexis blush a little.
Being yours was the greatest title he has ever achieved. He was smitten for you, and couldn't even believe you actually wanted to be with him. You were just so, so perfect!
"I'd like a child's book, please. It's for my little cousin! She really likes princesses, so if you had something like that it would be great!" You smiled at her
"Oh! I have just the right thing. You wait right here and I'll go fetch it!" She smiled right back at you, entering a little door on the side of the cashier.
The store was pretty much empty, since people don't seem to like books anymore. Only you, Alexis and the lady's cat were there. The weather was warm because of the heater, and the wood bookshelves made you feel like you were in a 1950's movie.
You and Ness sat down at a little table on the side of the store. He began playing with your fingers gently, and then looked at you with such fondness in his eyes that made you melt.
"This is the last one, right?" Ness asked, smiling
"Yep!" You answered
Actually, this was not the last present you wanted to buy. You wanted to buy something for Ness, but didn't know what it would be. It was your first christmas spent with him, so it needed to be the perfect gift.
"When will you give it to her?" He asked "To your little cousin, I mean"
"My uncle will dress up as Santa to give it to her and my other cousins" you smiled, and then sighed longingly while a memory came to your head "My family does that every year. It makes me remember when I was the one to recieve gifts from Santa. Good times. My favorite one was a doll I got when I was like, eight." You then remembered your "issue", and realized you could know what gift to give Ness based on his own favorite gift.
Bingo! It would make him remember the good part of his childhood and he would like it! After all, who doesn't feel like letting out your inner kid sometimes?
"What was your favorite gift from Santa?"
Ha, you're a genius!
Suddenly, Ness' smile dropped, and he looked almost embarassed by something. He looked at the table with a sad expression on his face and blushed
Oh oh. Maybe you're not so genius.
"I-I never got anything from Santa" he admitted, shamefully "My parents didn't really celebrate christmas, so I never got one. I always put my sock up though, but he never came"
That was the saddest thing you've ever heard.
"Oh, Lexis!" You caressed his face gently. You then got up and brought him closer to you.
His shoulders trembled a little, so you enveloped him in a hug
"I'm so sorry you had to go through this!" You couldn't back off now. You needed to buy exactly what little kid Alexis wanted. "What did you want to recieve, though?"
"Anything would be fine" he muttered, voice muffled by your coat "But I really wanted a wand. You know Harry Potter's wand?" You nodded "That one"
"I found the book!" The old lady came back, interrupting the moment. She quickly realized it though, and was fast to apologize "I'm sorry, did I interrupt something?"
"No." You assured her "No, don't worry. Let me see the book."
"Here" she handled it to you
"Sounds good" you said after analyzing it "I'll take it. Wait here, Love. I'll be right back"
"I'll pay for it."
"No need, Lexis. I have money"
"I insist."
"Okay then..."
"You both are so cute together"
Once again, Ness blushed like the lovesick fool he was.
Sadly, you didn't have the time to even tease him about it. While he was wrapping your cousin's future book, there was only one thought going through your head:
You finally found Alexis' gift.
"Merry Christmas, Love!" You woke him up by whispering it in his ear, followed by a hug right after.
"Good morning, liebe. And merry christmas to you, too!" He smiled, hugging you just as strongly as you did to him before.
This was really nice. Just you and him, together, cuddling and enjoying each other's presence. He really could get used to this.
"You know, I heard something downstairs while we were sleeping!" You said, faking a terrified expression
"Really?!" Ness asked, fully believeing what you said "Do I need to call the police?"
"NO!" You shouted, but quickly composed yourself "I mean, no! Why don't you just go check?"
"...you sure?"
"Yeah! Go downstairs! More precisely, go take a look under our christmas tree!!"
"Uhm... okay then"
It's not like he could EVER disagree with you anyway.
And so, Ness jumped off the bed, heading towards the christmas tree you both decorated together.
"Where did you say I need to check, again?" He asked, a little confused as to why you were recording the whole thing ever since he got out your shared bedroom.
"Underneath the tree! See if there's something there!" You said, not being able to contain how giddy you were feeling.
"There's a... present" Ness exclaimed, holding the wrapped box and scaning all of it's side
"Oh my! Who would have thought?" You smiled, giggling "Who's the owner of the box, I ponder!"
"The thief that invaded our house!" Ness shouted, confident that he got the question right
"Lexis, no." You deadpan, putting the phone down and walking closer to him "Look for a name in the wrapping"
And he did as he was told.
"To: Lexis" He read, and you smiled "Who gave me this, you?"
"Oh, no no! I was sleeping the whole time!" You then faked a surprised expression "Maybe it was Santa!"
"...Santa?"
"Yes! Open it, quickly! It's your christmas present from Santa!"
"Uhm... alright"
He tore the gift open
No way.
No freaking way.
A Harry Potter wand. The thing he always wanted ever since he was a kid.
"Oh wow! Santa really knows you, huh?" You teased, but his brain didn't even register it. He was too focused thinking about other things.
Santa doesn't exist.
This gift couldn't be from Santa. It was from you.
The first christmas present he ever got was from you.
Hell, this wand could be a rock and he would still accept it gladly. Because the gift doesn't matter. What matters is the person who gave it.
You. The love of his life.
He carefully put the wand down and pproached you with big, round eyes.
"Alexis? What are you..."
You couldn't even finish your sentence. He just pulled you in for one of the most heart-felt hugs you ever experienced. His arms wrapped around you in a strong embrace, but not in a umconfortable way. It felt safe. He felt safe.
"Thank you" He muttered, placing his face in the crook of your neck and inhaling your scent and wait - why did your shoulder suddenly feel wet? "Thank you, thank you. Thank you so much. I love you. God, I love you so, so much. You have no idea"
"I love you too, Lexis" You hugged him back, caressing his hair with your hands.
Man, christmas was amazing.
And so the snow began falling again, as the lovers basked in each other's presence.
Christmas is about spending time with those you love. And you were both doing exactly that.
"Merry christmas, Meine Liebe"
"Merry christmas, Lexis"
~ This has been in my drafts since october.
DEDICATED TO NESS' GF @megwuru!!!
#blue lock#bllk#bllk manga#blue lock x reader#bllk x reader#bllk x you#blue lock x you#bllk ness#ness alexis#alexis ness#ness x reader#alexis x reader#alexis ness x reader
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Suck my candy cane
Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 7
Prompt: Candy cane
Rated: T
Tags: Horny disaster Eddie Munson; Mall elf Steve; Steve in tights; Confident Steve; Gareth is a little shit; Flirting; Sexual innuendo
“Okay, I can't take this anymore,” Gareth blurts, rudely interrupting Eddie’s build-up to their next epic battle. “If I have to fight another goblin horde to the soundtrack of that Last Christmas song, I'm gonna smash something for real.”
Jeff and Frank nod in agreement.
Eddie scoffs, slurping at his lukewarm, half-empty milkshake. The visitors of the food court give him disgusted looks.
“Gentlemen, we've been over this. We can't use the drama room while the theater nerds are practicing their play. We won't all fit into mine or Gareth's bedroom, Frank's mom is having his aunts and cousins over for the holidays, and Jeff's parents won't allow our godless heathen game anywhere near their home. So, unfortunately, we must make do.”
“Yeah,” Jeff says. “But the mall? Seriously?”
“What’s wrong with the mall?” Eddie asks, throwing out his hands and almost hitting a plastic Christmas tree.
“It's loud,” says Gareth.
“It's crowded,” says Jeff.
“It's the very embodiment of everything despicable about capitalist America, especially around a commercialized holiday such as this,” says Frank. “Your own words.”
Eddie glares at them.
"Okay, noted,” he says, “But we can't be picky. Think of it as an exercise in holiday spirit. Did not the virgin Mary herself birth our lord and savior in a humble stable?”
“Yeah, because she literally had nowhere to go,” Gareth snaps. “Not because she was ogling Steve Harrington in tights.”
Eddie almost chokes on his shake.
“I have no idea what-”
Jeff cuts him off. “It's okay, just admit it. Spare us the embarrassment.”
Eddie sighs, eyes flitting over to Santa's workshop, where the subject of their discussion is handing out candy canes to excited children. He's wearing the same silly elf costume as all of the other unfortunate souls selling their workforce and their dignity for minimum wages around the mall, complete with the hat, pointed shoes and cheap, green shorts. They ride up as he bends down to talk to the kids, revealing more of his perfectly shaped thighs. Thighs clad in long, skin-tight stockings, red and white like the candy canes in his hand. Eddie wants to lick them. The thighs, not the candy canes. Which is probably weird of him, but he never claimed to be normal.
“Was I that obvious?”
Frank gives him a deadpan stare. “Jeff cheated on several of his rolls and you didn't notice because you were so busy staring- ow, what the fuck?”
Jeff lowers the fist he just punched him with. “Oh, as if you didn't!”
Eddie gasps.
“Betrayal! Seems like we are the only ones left with any respect for the game, Gare- … Where's Gareth?”
Gareth's chair is empty. Jeff and Frank swivel their heads in the direction of Santa's workshop. The very workshop that Gareth is just approaching with brisk steps.
Eddie feels the color drain from his face.
“No,” he croaks. “What is he doing? He isn't- … Gareth, come back!”
Gareth doesn't come back. Instead, he taps Steve on the shoulder, who flinches and turns. Now Eddie can't see his face anymore - just Gareth's obnoxious grin as he starts talking at him. For a few seconds, during which Eddie desperately wishes for super hearing, they stay like this. Then, Gareth lifts a hand and points straight at their table.
Eddie dives for cover under the nearest tree. Fake cardboard presents scatter in his wake.
“Let's get outta here,” Frank mutters, standing and gesturing for Jeff to follow. Eddie gawks after their retreating backs.
“Where are you going? Come back, you cowards, I'm gonna kill you!”
“Pretty sure that's not a good idea, dude,” someone behind him says. “Sounds like it would land you on the Naughty list.”
Eddie dies. Resurrects again. Possibly dies again in the seconds it takes him to turn around. When he finally does, he finds himself face to face with a pair of legs. Absurdly shapely legs clad in red and white striped tights. They're somehow even more perfect up close.
“I'm up here, y’know?”
Eddie forces himself to drag his eyes all the way up, past the damn shorts (Jesus fucking Christ, Munson, whatever you do, don't get stuck staring at his crotch), and to Steve’s face. He's smiling. There's Christmas lights twinkling behind him.
“Hi,” Steve says. “Eddie, right?”
Eddie makes a noise that sounds like “uuoomph”. When he pulls his hair in front of his mouth, he realizes that there's tinsel tangled in his curls.
Steve laughs. For a second, Eddie thinks that the guy's laugh sounds like literal fucking bells, but then he notices the tiny actual bells sewn into his hat and sleeves.
“Here,” he says, holding something out in front of Eddie’s face, who goes slightly cross-eyed. “Your friend said you wanted to … suck my candy cane.”
He holds Eddie’s dumbstruck gaze and winks, slow and deliberate. Gareth is a dead man.
“Uh, thanks I guess,” Eddie mutters, but when he reaches out to take the candy cane, Steve withdraws his hand.
“Unfortunately, those are only for good boys.”
“I am,” Eddie blurts. “I'm so fucking good, man, I promise. Definitely not planning on killing any of my friends or anything. I'm a prime example of good behavior.”
Steve regards his flushed, desperate face and frowns. “I dunno. I'd love to just take your word for it, but I'm under very strict instructions to make sure.”
He tilts his head, like he's pondering their dilemma. Then, just as Eddie is about to snap, he lightens up.
“Here's an idea,” he says, reaching out to pick the tinsel out of Eddie’s hair. His voice tickles the shell of Eddie’s ear. “I'm off in thirty minutes. Why don't you meet me in the parking lot and let me see for myself exactly what a good boy you are?”
Eddie has a feeling that, if he plays his cards right, he may get to suck something way sweeter than candy today.
More holiday drabbles
#steddie#steve x eddie#steve harrington x eddie munson#steddie fanfic#steddie brainrot#fanfiction writer#fanfiction#fanfic#my writing#steddie holiday drabbles#hype's holiday drabbles 2024
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praise
in which y/n notices something isn't quite right with her professor, and harry loves chasing this little bunny
word count: 5.5k
pairing: vamp!h and y/n (but really it's more like professor!h with a side of vampire)
warnings: this fic contains graphic depictions of sex and blood.
author's note: happy late halloween!
When y/n was little, her mother always told her to stay inside on Halloween.
She never got to go trick-o-treating like the other kids because of this, not until she was old enough to pay for her own costume, but by that time it was too late because trick-o-treating turned into bar hopping and candy turned into drinks. She took part in these activities for as long as it took for her to figure out that she didn't like alcohol or big crowds or dressing up.
Also by that time, many of the holidays took place around the time that she was stressing about papers and exams and midterms and other deadlines a college students faces around the end of the semester. She was a dedicated, busy little bee with few friends that knew her enough to know that when she's focused, theres no getting her to come out for anything, so they didn't even extend invites.
Which is why she finds herself inside, at the library, on Halloween night. She has a little ear worm of Linus writing his letter to the great pumpkin running around in her brain, but that's as far as her spooky spirit goes. The rest of it is consumed in her paper about sublime notions of nature in the latest gothic novel assigned by her literature professor, Mr. Styles.
Had it been any other teacher, she wouldn't have lingered so much on grammar, word choice, or reading her paper over and over again so that her ideas were clear and concise, but... but there was something about him. She can't really but her finger on it, but a big part of it is fear. Intimidation. He's so... commanding in the way that he carries himself. Almost menancing, his figure carrying the threat of punishment.
He walked into the lecture hall everyday dressed like a model from a vintage academia magazine. Tweed bottoms. Button up shirts. Loafers. Sleek black shoes. A pristine silver watch on his wrist. A golden chain that twinkled on his neck and disappeared into the collars of his shirts like a shooting star. Slicked back chocolate brown hair from which a single curl sometimes escaped and swayed on his forehead like the hooked tail of a monkey. Tailored pants that accentuated the litheness of his hips perfectly so, making her wonder if he had them altered to fit him exactly. A badge on a simple, black attachment pinned on his hip spelled his name underneath a coyly smirking ID picture of his face; Harry Styles.
So y/n had a little crush.
A silly little bundle of love-misted roses perched in her heart with a ribbon and a name tag that had her English professor’s name on it.
She tried to tell herself that it was a school girl’s crush (it literally was), but it was hard to keep her daydreams cemented underneath the rounded realm of reality when her heart kept reading into every single little interaction she had with him, knowing that all her fantasies would only ever exist in her dreams because he was an employee. He was older than her. He would never be interested in a girl, a student, like her. His serious disposition did nothing to quell her.
In fact, it almost egged her on. The perfectionist in her wanted to be perfect for him, so be praised by him for her hard work. She wanted so badly to be his teacher's pet that it reflected in her work ethic. Every paper she turned in was better than her last, she paid rapt attention in class, took the most intricate care in her notes. She always looked her best on the days she had his class- black ballet flats with black skirts, frilly socks, cardigans and collared blouses- ever the neat student. She's every professor's wet dream, she knows this.
Yet, the approval and validation that she craved. No, needed. The validation she needed from him was never given to her, no matter how hard she worked. The notes on her paper were always asking for more, she could do better, she could be more clear, she wasn't quite*getting it. And he always left a note that she should see him in his office hours.
But she couldn't.
Y/n was sure that she would spontaneously combust is she was in an enclosed one-on-one space with him. Which was funny because many of the female students fought for that time with him. One time she heard a few girls in her class say that they tried to call him by his first name and he told them that "it was Professor Styles or Sir to them". Just listening to it second hand was enough to have her squirming. The though it, to have his striking green eyes on only her, his gravely, accented voice directed at her. It was an intoxicating though.
She could imagine it.
He would sit on the other side of his desk in that suave way of his, ankle crossed at his knee, one hand resting on the arm of his chair while the other props his chin up as his finger taps against his sharp cheekbone. He would watch her with an unwavering, predatory gaze, like he's waiting for her to make a mistake to step in and correct her. Y/n would sit in the seat across from him, her hands under her thighs to keep from fidgeting, her lips wet with her spit from how much she'd chew on them, her eyes unfocused and struggling to keep contact with him. The silence in the room would probably be filled with her 'umm's and 'like'. She'd be so nervous, and he would see right through her, and all her hard work would be diminished to nothing.
And then she would probably cry and Professor Styles doesn't really look like the type to console his students, so y/n would just embarrass herself.
So she settles for putting her all into her work, tweaking what he's made notes on from previous papers, and hoping that it's enough, that one of these days she'll she exclamation points at the end of praise instead of at the end of 'explain this'.
With a weepy, overwhelmed sigh, y/n rubbed her fists into her eyes and ran words over and over again in her head. She was the last one in the library, the light from the lamp at her desk was the only source of illumination in her little study corner. This late into the semester the school didn't close libraries, opting to not get in the way of students and their work. It was nearing midnight, and she was getting tired, but this paper was due in two days and she wanted at least one to edit it.
A little delirious from lack of sleep and anger from how difficult this was all turning out to be, y/n blinked back tears. She was a little cold and she was hungry. But she was not going to leave until this paper was finished.
She would however close her eyes, just for a little while. Y/n put her head down on the desk, telling herself that she would only rest her eyes for a few minutes, that she was not going to fall asleep.
But like every college student that snoozes their alarm twenty million times because they're just going to rest their eyes for a few more minutes, she falls asleep.
She startles awake in the dark at the sound of a chair scraping against the floor.
When she jerks upright, Professor Styles is sitting across from her, reading her paper.
***
Harry is so fucking hungry, and he's looking for a snack. Maybe even a meal if he can get away with it.
He hasn't fed in nearly a month, and normally even two weeks is pushing it. But it was the month of October, and as the holidays neared and the parties increased, so did security and people's guard. It was extra hard to find a bite now, not the kind he liked.
Sweet, pure, and innocent. Untainted flavor.
A few days ago he managed to snag a few blood bags from the campus' blood drive center, but it wasn't enough. He craved the puncture, the warmth of a body in his arms, the fresh throb of a pulse underneath his tongue. He wanted the erotic writhing of struggle and submission against his body. Many of his kind didn't share their fondness for this part, but he loved taking care of them afterwards. Making sure they were okay, steady. Sated in the same ways he was. Being a vampire came with the ability of glamour, a bit of mind influencing, so that he was able to make the situation a little more favorable on his end.
He had decided to go for a stroll, having been caught up late in his office grading papers, when he caught a hint of something sweet and familiar in the night air.
It reminded him of one his students, y/n.
She always sat in the middle of the third row with perfect posture, listened to his lectures as if he was God. Her eyes would get mooney, and if he listened hard enough (which to him wasn't really that hard because he was a vampire, he had super human hearing) he could hear her heart beat faster in the seconds that his eyes held contact with her as he talked, delicate and quick like the wings of a hummingbird. Everything she turned in was perfect. She was smart but not pretentious in her way of writing, and something about the way she wrote reminded him about the tender inside of a wrist. Her wrist.
But Harry was mean, and he liked to tease, and he could tell that y/n was waiting. She was sitting on a precipice, hanging on to his very word, her body strung taught and stressed. She was waiting on him. He was going to make her wait until he did as he asked. He wanted one on one time with her, and until then, he wouldn't give her what she wanted.
Whether she realized it or not, she was teasing him, too. In ways that y/n probably wasn't even aware of. The way she bit her lips so they were bright with her blood right underneath the surface, the promise of her heat with every exaggerated sigh she let out as she walked out of his lecture hall. Her clothes, god they killed him.
She wore these black kitten heels once, and they drove him crazy.
Now, he knows his place as Professor, and he didn't just get this job to fuck around. He enjoyed teaching and knowing secretly that he knew first had about the things he was talking about. He loved seeing how his life was absorbed by the younger faces (not that he looked old, he would forever appear to be 23). He respected others, their will, their purpose, and only went as far as his moral compass would let him to take care of his needs.
But he was a man, and he could be brought to his knees by a pretty thing like y/n.
Harry remembers that day, how his trousers were uncomfortable and he had to spend the whole time behind his podium. How he needed to slyly inch a calculating hand to the ever-growing uncomfortable center of his groin and tug the snug fabric away from their vacuum-sealed hold on his hips. It was maddening for him, but uncomfortable for her (he thinks). She never wore them again, and he suspects they may have hurt her delicate feet if the way she kept shifting was anything to go by.
Not that he noticed.
Harry most definitely did not notice that the tip of her toes kept tittering tenderly up and around in slow, hypnotizing circles, meant to relieve pent up tension. He most definitely did not notice that the way her frilly white socks kept sliding down the slope of her ankle with every movement. Or the tantalizing trekk of her delicate fingers against the curve of her thigh, behind her knee, and a little further where the pads of her lucky fingers dug into the soft, aching- he assumed- flesh of her calves. He didn’t fucking hold his breath and become stiller than a statue to try and to hear the sweet, breathy sighs of relief that left her parted lips. No, he did not. That would be a violation of the contract he signed upon assuming his position. It would be betraying the trust of the snarky, reluctant, port-belly head of academics that judged his ambiguous resume with reluctance.
Of course he didn’t. And he wasn’t the slightest bit disappointed that he never saw them again.
This student of his had captured his attention this semester, almost distracting him. Her smell, from what he knows the few times he caught a whiff of it amongst all the others, was sweet, yet not overwhelmingly so. It was mellowed out and warm, and the closest thing he could compare it to from the food he had as a human, was apple pie. She was warm, sweet, honeyed, with the zest of cinnamon.
He wanted to taste her so fucking badly.
Harry doesn't know if it's because he's so hungry that he's smelling her now.
Trailing after the scent with his nose leading the way like a drooling dog, he wonders- no, he knows that he won't be able to fight the urge to taste her if it's really her he finds at the end of the line.
It gets stronger in the library, but from the looks of it, it's dark and empty. From the looks of it, but Harry knows better. He can hear better and smells better, and he knows she's in here. The swift intake of her breath rings in the silence, his ears picking up on the only human sound in the buildings. The near-silent whines that sit at the base of her throat and die before they exit through her nose.
Her hearbeat.
Calm. Steady. Alive.
It sounds like a drum, low and pounding and it thrills him.
He wants to hear it beat faster and faster, like a bunny when it's being chased. He wants to hear the even paced breaths become rapid and disorganized with heightened emotion.
He can smell her, too, the delightful aroma making his fangs itch and his loins ache. Walking further into the library, the stacks of books growing dense with sharp corners and cozy study nooks, he can trace the direct path she took to her spot- the table in the corner with the lamp still on. She has her head resting on her arms, hair haphazardly strewn across the wooden table and some papers, a pencil between her fingers still.
She probably set her head down after saying she was only gong to rest her eyes. She's probably been here for a really long time, he can hear her stomach growling. Shaking his head in disbelief, he pulls the chair back with a motion that's sure to wake her up at the same time that he pinches the paper with two fingers and begins to read.
Waking with a little gasp, y/n straightened. He could pinpoint the exact moment she became fully cognizant of what was happening because her heartbeat picked up in a way that concerned him, and she became utterly still. From the corner of his eye (Harry was reading her paper, a really good paper, and hadn't looked at her. Not even once) he could see her mouth open and close a few times, words escaping her. Y/n rolled the pencil between hands that had begin to perspire and began to chew on her bottom lip.
Internally, Harry groaned. He needed to get her to stop doing that because he was imagining things that no person is his position of power needed to be imagining and his cock was fattening against his thigh. He was hungry in more ways than one for her. A part of him wanted to mark her up like he was a dog and she was his chew toy, licking and sucking and biting on the sweetest parts of her to suckle on her blood; everywhere. The other wanted to do all of those things, and not just for her blood.
He had to get her to speak.
The paper that he held in his hands was probably the best that he was going to get from her class, or maybe all of them put together. The ideas were fresh with just the perfect amount of information from his lectured tossed in for a response to the prompt on the book they were currently discussing. But he had to keep playing his game with her, he had to see her fold like a ragdoll. He wasn't going to tell her what he truly thought about it, how it was so good, how she was such a good student, how she made him so proud. How she was a good girl.
Instead he put the paper down in front of her, crossed his arms and spread his legs in the chair to give his swollen dick some room and said, "you should go home. Have a meal. Go to sleep.”
At this her shoulders sagged, and it was like watching dominoes fall against each other to release different triggers, Her lips crumpled, her chin wobbled, and her eyes blinked away a sea of crystalline tears.
Y/n stared at him, a wet look that punched his gut at the same time that it made his gums salivate and his hips itch to thrust up against the desk like a thing in heat. He looked back at her, his head tipping slowly to the side to track her gaze as it dropped. Like a predatory, he observed her with the kind of stillness that promised a charge of action. That promised death in the maw of a killer.
Her mouth did that thing where it opened and closed again, sounds that came before actual words coming out of her, but never intelligible sentences. Her heart was racing, but her lungs were doing a weird thing. Like they weren't getting enough oxygen.
"Why don't you take a deep breath , hmm? And we can talk about what's going on here," he got up from his chair and stood at the side of his desk, arms crossed and feet spread shoulder width apart, formidable. If she looked closely enough, she would be able to see a thick bulge at his crotch.
But she didn't have a reason to look. He wasn't adjusting himself. He didn't even look like it bothered him.
In fact, he looked almost... mad.
Y/n looked at him straight in the eyes, and her's went doe-like, everything in her stilling like the fawn-like creature in the way of an oncoming vehicle.
Everything, including her breathing.
He wasn't going to have her passed out before all the fun began. Needing to get a grip on her, he took a few heavy steps foward, and pinched her chin between his thumb and forefinger, the other hand tucking into his pocket to actually adjust himself this time because it was starting to get uncomfortable.
Tilting her face up and closer to him, he bent forward so that their noses were barely touching. Her warm breath huffed against his nose, and he had to fight the urge to roll his eyes into the back of his head.
"Breathe, y/n. You can do it," peering down at her with his jack slightly slack and his eyes at half mast, he imitated inhaling deeply, and she mimicked his motions. Her lungs expanded, and her heart slowed slightly. "That's it, darling. Again."
She gulped and her hands squeezed the fabric of the plaid tennis skirt she was wearing, bringing the hem up slightly so the thinner skin on the inside of her thighs gleamed at Harry.
Then he smelled it, and this time he didn't fight the shiver that ran through him. She was wetHis eyes closed, and a groan rolled deep in his chest. His body tensed and relaxed at the same time, like a transformation.
And when he opened his eyes, he was a different version of himself.
One that didn't give a fuck that he was a professor and she was his student.
This version only had one goal in mind: to consume her in every way he could until y/n went limp in his arms.
"Now what's the matter, little bunny?"
***
Y/n didn't know what was happening, only that something had... changed.
She might have been a quivering mess for him, but she felt the shift in him. The edge to him. The gleam in his eye. She had seen his body shiver at the same time she felt her pussy clench at his words. That's it, darling. Again. Little bunny.
He was encouraging her, not far off from what she wanted to hear from him. It stroked her muddled brain and made her feel fuzzy all over. Some of what he was saying was very inappropriate. But she could care less.
“W-what?” she mumbled, confused. She blinked so that a few tears ran down her face, and she couldn't even feel embarrassed about it.
“Y’heard me loud and clear, darling. Don’t make me repeat myself," her professor tutted.
"i'm sorry, sir. It's just that... I need to work on my paper." And she mumbled something afterwards. Low enough that he wouldn't have been able hear if he was a human. But he wasn't. That didn't mean he couldn't play with her.
"Speak up, y/n. Good girls don't mumble." His tongue was like a lashing, a reprimand, and she felt the scolding everywhere.
"It needs to be better for you, sir." Gulping, she rubbed her thighs together and shuffled in her seat. Y/n was finally one-on-one with him, and she thought she knew what it would feel like.
She was wrong.
Everything was sensitive. Hot. Cold. She was twitchy and there was this squirrley, jumpy feeling inside her. She wanted to run away like a little mouse, but she also wanted to be warmed in his hands. By his words. She wanted to hear the praise come from him so that she could stop feeling so desperate.
Y/n got like this sometimes. Whiny. Insatiable. But no one ever knew how to handle her, when to realize that she was finally full. So she was always... hungry. Like something inside her needed to be stuffed. Abused a little, maybe. She wanted to be handled and then petted. Fucked and kissed and then held. She wanted to be good.
And being like this with him, in a position that made it seem like that was possible, y/n thrummed.
Humming in realization, he stroked his knuckles down the side of her face in a caress, "and what makes you think it isn't already good?"
She leaned into his touch without realizing it, nuzzling into his hand. All she had to do now was purr. Y/n shut her eyes before speaking, "Y-you... you never-"
"Open your eyes and look at me when you're speaking, bunny." Again, the stern, scolding tone. This time it made her flinch and whimper. Her hips rocked in the chair, and he tracked the movement like a leopard in the trees ready to pounce. Y/n knew that he saw, and her face bloomed with heat.
In a breathy, chocked string of words, "you never leave nice notes on my papers, sir. All the others do, but there never any on mine and I just thought... that I n-needed to work harder to be b-better."
She shuffled again in her seat, and her professor's eyes pinched. His had trailed down to her throat, and he squeezed to hold her still.
“Stop squirming, y/n. You want to be better? Stop fucking squirming," and he released her with a small pulse at the base of her neck. He could feel his teeth bulging under his upper lip, the thrum of her life under his fingers enticing him further. Every bit of reason was escaping him. He was going to lose control. Decades of practice, of edging on months of hunger, were nothing to her allure.
He stepped back at the same time that he realized they weren't close enough.
"Stand up," he told her. He watched as she pushed the chair back and stood on wobbly knees, her gaze still searching for recognition that he had heard what she had said, that he had read between the lines and realized what she needed. "Sit on the edge of the table, facing me so we can speak properly."
When she was seated and her hands began to fiddle in her lap, he stepped close enough that her knees were almost touching his hips. And she couldn't miss it this time. The thick length of him, hard against his hip.
"S-sir?" she prompted meekly.
"You want me to leave nice notes on your papers, y/n?" He asked, settling his hands on either side of her and haunching over her so they were nose-to-nose. She could smell him, strong masculine scents of vintage leather and tobacco and bergamot.
Nodding eagerly like a dog, "mhm. Yes, sir."
"Then why didn't you come see me like I asked on every single one of those papers? You didn't listen to me, so why should I reward you?" He mouthed the words against her skin, trailing them down her jaw to her throat where he teased the skin with the tip of his nose.
The area around her neck felt scorching hot, his lips trailing searingly against her. She couldn't hide how desperate she was anymore. She arched, her body was taught, fighting the urge to wriggle because she couldn't decide if she wanted to get away from him or have more of him, and she needed to be good. He had told her to stop squirming.
"I'm sorry, Professor."
Y/n closed her eyes and tentatively braced herself against him. Trembling hands settled on his arms, thick with deceptive muscle. She could feel the strength hiding beneath the surface, tense like a snake preparing to strike. A strong hand settled at her waist, clamping like iron, and another on cupped her jaw tenderly. It was a dichotomy of treatment. Rough and tender at the same time.
"You were a bad girl, y/n."
Then she felt it, a sharp sting where her throat met her shoulder, where Harry was biting her, and licking her, and suckling at her all at the same time. A mixture of a squeal and a moan jumped out of her, and she dug her fingers into his arms, frozen. Whatever he was doing to her hurt. But it hurt in a good way. A way that made her ache with that need to be filled.
She cried out, "I'm sorry, sir." A wet apology that bared how anguished she was.
His hot tongue flattened against her, and she she vibrated in the place where he left his heavy pant, "are you going to be good for me, bunny?"
"Yes, sir. I wanna be good, please," her head was bobbing in that earnest way again, but with his head in the crook of her neck he could only feel the movement against his hair.
He suckled a little more at bite that was already beginning to close, kissing it tenderly, "gonna be my good little bunny?"
Y/n was huffing, not even bothering to hide that she was horny, “please, p-please- I need-”
“Tell me exactly what you need. C'mon, you can do it,” he coaxed her. The hand at her hip molded the flesh there, pulling her closer to him so she was sitting just at the edge, and her knees were pressed into his dick with the lightest pressure. He bucked against her, a slow roll of his groin against her delicate bare knee.
“I need to cum, sir. I need-”
“Don’t-” he pinched her hip roughing, his thick eyebrows furowing in disapproval, “forget your manners, little bunny. Rude darlings don’t get to cum.”
"Please let me cum, Professor," she repeated, eyes glossy but no longer with tears. This was something else. Something needy. Y/n could feel her slick juices seeping through her panties and making the insides of her thighs sticker. The triangle of cloth was sticking to her, and the tight feeling of it against her clit made her want to scream. It was just barely pushing, a teasing sensation that was driving her crazy.
She wanted him to touch her. To rub her swollen clit until she drenched hand in her cum, and then to- to-
"I'm not sure I should, y/n. You didn't listen to me. Didn't come to my office. Instead I had to come find you here. What about me, hmm? What if I need something from you?" Harry leaned back, letting his hands run down so they rested on her knees and his fingers could play with the hem of her skirt.
"Whatever you need, sir. Please." Y/n was beginning to sound a little broken. Her hips struggled to stay planted on the desk and her knuckled turned white from how hard she gripped the edge of the wood. She would much rather touch him, but he was too far away and she didn't want to upset him. She stared at him, silently pleading for his hands to creep up and shove into her panties, to play with her hole.
"Right now I need to eat you, little bunny. Are you going to let me?" He tilted his head at her again, calculating. Waiting, observing.
"Yes!" Y/n shrieked, her thighs trembling.
"Spead these pretty thighs, darling. Let me have a taste," he crooned down at her as she opened up, her skirting riding so he could see her panties, how wet they were, nearly transparent with her arousal. With a deft finger, he pulled the gusset of her panties to the side and dropped to his knees.
Y/n whined at the look on his face. Mouth parted, eyes half-lidded and downturned. He looked hungry. Desperate.
Without warning he leaned forward and covered her with his mouth, his tongue licking her and then dipping into her pussy to collect what had pooled at her opening, his teeth lighting tapping against her clit. He thrusted his tongue into her once, twice, three times, and that was all it took. A gush of wetness coated his tongue, and her tremors pulsed against his lips.
He leaned back and slapped her cunt with an angry growl, and then shoved two fingers into her, fucking her roughly so his fingers got wet with her, "seriously, y/n? Did I give you permission to cum?"
"N-no, sir," as she sat hunched over his kneeling form still twitching, Harry shoved his fingers into his mouth to lick them clean of her, and then stood up, not even bothering to lay her panties right before yanking her to stand.
"Get up. We're going to walk to my rooms. Your'e doing to do so quietly, and when we get there, you're going to take your punishment like a good girl, do you understand me?" With a single finger pointed at her, y/n understand she was in for it. Her hands flew to pick up her things, showing her papers into her bag and looping it on her shoulder so she was ready to go.
"I understand, Professor"
He took the bag off her shoulder and laid a hand on her lower back, keeping her at his side as he led her out of the library and into the night, "that's better. Come this way. The night is still young, bunny, and we're both in for a treat."
*****
happy halloweenie!! hoped u liked this heehee. missed mr. vamp. lmk ur thoughts!!!
#harry styles#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles smut#harry styles blurbs#harry styles angst#harry styles fluff#harry styles one shot#harry styles writing#harry styles fic#harry styles x reader#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x you#vampire!harry#harry styles oneshot#harry styles fanfic#harry styles imagine#harry styles x yn
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Winter Wonderland || F1/F2
type :: fluff
tw/cw :: none
contains :: carlos, charles, lando, oscar, max, ollie, paul, pepe
summary :: decorating your home together for the holiday season with the drivers
xmas celly here! || f1 masterlist || f2 masterlist
Carlos Sainz | 55
Very vintage, and rich looking
It's a true money style of richness, with a big ass tree filled with presents underneath it
There's even ribbons on all the gifts
Why? Because his mom and other family members are so rich and retired that they're fucking bored and added it
Most likely you live with him and he just reuses the same ornaments and stuff from last year
But you don't care, it's so pretty
But!!!! You two get a little custom ornament that's really cute
Probably your anniversary date or smth on it
Charles Leclerc | 16
A nice rich Christmas too, but more sleek and modern-ish
He loved decorating as a kid with his siblings but now that he has his own tree??? Man that's so much work
He'll let you take care of the tree and most of the decor, but he doesn't just sit on his ass
He'll help pick the items, theme, etc
And also help put up the heavy duty stuff, like lights around the house and stuff
But putting each and every flower into the reefs??? Oh noooo he's suddenly so soreeee nooooo
After like 10 ornaments, he's suddenly complaining and saying "my physical therapist told me it's bad to do repetitive motions"
He's a liar but you don't even care, cause he bought everything for you
And he'll give you constant praise in person and online for your decorating skills
Lando Norris | 04
Frat boy party vibes but honestly,,, I fuck with it
Tons of colors, lights, and it's so fun to look at
Loves decorating with you and making it very chaotic
And also very ghetto...
This man doesn't even use staples or tape to hold up the lights on the wall
Why? Because he couldn't find any and didn't wanna go out to get them
So now your lights are being held up by wood glue... or your eyelash glue that he stole... or any random sticky substance...
No he doesn't use old condoms, don't think that
Oscar Piastri | 81
He don't gaf
However YOU want to decorate, he obeys
Whether that's an all pink tree, ugly ahh skinny tree that holds one ornament, or the biggest more extravagant Christmas ever
If his beautiful partner tells him to stfu he stfu, like a good boyfriend
And even better???
He not only pays for any decoration you want, no matter how expensive or stupid it is (he just loves seeing you happy)
But he also helps put up and cleans EVERYTHING
He's up on the roof decorating, cleaning the fireplace just to make it pretty, and even re-arranging the entire living room just for you to have the perfect spot for the tree
Some call him whipped
I call him a real man
Max Verstappen | 01
He also don't gaf
But, not in the Oscar way
He fr doesn't gaf at all
Expect an ugly ass tree, or most likely not even a tree
If you're lucky, you'll get the strip of reef in the pic above
But there's a very high chance that you'll just get a printed photo of a Christmas tree that's hung on the wall
BUT he does love stupid Christmas decor
So things like a funny statue, a creepy elf on the shelf, etc are all very welcomed
Luckily, Max isn't an asshole and will 10000% celebrate however you like at all
He's just gonna follow your lead and do whatever is needed from it... With minimal effort firstly...
Oliver Bearman | 87
Like Max, but really cute and funny
He has the Christmas spirit and loves it very much
One thing he did that's very very cute is that he ordered those big inflatable
But he didn't check the size...
So now you have a 35feet tall Satan in your yard!!! Yay!!!
He's in the Christmas spirit and he got the right idea
Maybe he doesn't have the skill to decorate it,,, but he has the spirit!
Paul Aron | 17
A classy and modern Christmas
Most likely white and a bit of a snow theme going on
Mixed with black too, cause that's his aesthetic ya know
He's very active when it comes to decorating
Always helping you pick what to get, which matches each other, etc
He's also very worried about the measurements, so he always makes sure to take note of the space you have to make sure everything fits
Also helps you put everything up, it's so sweet and domestic
Like: he holds your waist while you stand on the ladder to put the star up
Pepe Marti | 21
I'm mad at him rn cause why is every photo of him so bad
But he's so painfully unaware of the fact that he's tall
The tree only has ornament son the top
All the lights and decorations are put where you can't even see
And he keeps assigning you tasks that you cannot reach
Which he learns to take note of, always laughing at you before saying sorry
The decoration is very warm and homey
Definitely the type to bring over his friends to have dinner all together
His home isn't crazy decorated, but still nice and cozy
Which perfectly matches your relationship's vibes
#f1#f2#formula 1#formula 2#f1 x reader#f2 x reader#carlos sainz x reader#charles leclerc x reader#lando norris x reader#oscar piastri x reader#max verstappen x reader#ollie bearman x reader#oliver bearman x reader#paul aron x reader#pepe marti x reader#xmas celly!
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The Holiday Spirit
Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. Not all kinks or triggers are tagged. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Summary: You don't have much reason to enjoy the holidays until a generous man walks in the door.
Character: Captain Syverson
Day Thirteen of the December Daze Challenge.
Prompt - i just can't wait until the holidays are over
Note: As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.
You watch the snow gather at the corners of the large window pane with dread. The longer it falls, the more your anxiety rises. How on earth are you supposed to get home? Not too mention the more important question, how are any customers supposed to get in the store?
Your phone jingles at the very thought, your manager calling as if she could hear your silent plea for rescue. You grab your phone but don't answer until the fourth ring. You don't want her to know you've been doom scrolling the weather forecast.
Gloria greets you without formality, "what's it look like there?"
"Um, bad," you answer honestly. "Snowy."
"I mean customers. What are the numbers?"
"Oh..." you blink and look around the empty shop. "I think most people are staying home. There hasn't been anyone since I started."
"What about the walkway? Have you shoveled it?" It's as much an accusation as a question. "They won't come in if they can't get in."
You wish you had the courage to mention that it isn't just the sidewalk, you haven't seen car drive by in over an hour. Those you can see are parked and not going anywhere as the snow piles over their windows. You frown and again, look at the windows in horror.
"Go out and clear it and maybe you'll sell a few pieces. No point having the lights on if you're not doing anything," she snips.
"Meredith closed up across the street--"
"I don't care what that old crone did. Get out there. The shovel's in the back room." She commands.
"Okay," you agree meekly.
You know you shouldn't be such a pushover but you need this job. Even if it isn't much. It's a small independent shop that sells candles, lotions, and random nicknacks. You're not really sure what to call it.
You hang up and go into the backroom and grab your coat. It's not the best. A sherpa thing you go used at the Good Will. Your boots are a couple years old and you can tell. You wear three pairs of socks just to keep your toes from hurting as bad.
You pull on your thin gloves and grab the shovel. You approach the front door and gaze through the glass. Look at it! You'll be lucky if you don't get lost.
You go to push through the door. You have to shove your shoulder into it just to get outside as the wind blows angrily. The door slams behind you and you plant the shovel into the thick snow as you look around. Ugh, where do you even begin?
This time of year is always too much. Who decided the holidays needed to be in the middle of winter? It's not fair, but life just isn't.
You scoop up the snow bit by bit. Your muscles ache as you try to heave into out of the way but as the powder builds, it's only more and more difficult to do so. As you final get clear of the door, you look back and see a new blanket of white. It doesn't matter, you'll be outside all night if you try to keep it clean.
You work your way across the store front as the sky continues to dim. It never really got light as the sun stayed hidden in the clouds. You put your head down against the swirling flakes and you grip the shovel tight. You groan and grunt each time you lift it.
"Now what they got you out here doing all this for?" A grizzly voice draws your head up and you bat your lashes as snow catches in them. You stare up at the burly man in his heavy brown coat and black toque. His beard is sparkling with flakes.
"Um, I... work in there," you nod to the store. "Gotta make sure people can get in."
"Y'all should be at home," he tuts.
"It's just me," you shrug.
"That's a shame. Damn big shame," he shakes his head, "lady like you shouldn't be out here in the cold."
"Well, it's my job, I guess," you say.
"Here," he puts his hand on the handle of the shovel, "you go in. Get warm."
"Oh, no, I couldn't--"
"Do you know what my mother would do if she knew I just walked on by a little lady like you struggling in the snow?" He argues.
"I... thank you, that's too kind. But, you probably have somewhere to be."
"I'm just walking," he assures you. "I like the snow."
"Oh, right, uh..." you let go of the shovel reluctantly. "Thanks, I... I feel bad."
"Don't. I feel bad seein' ya shiver your nose off. Go on."
You scrunch up your mouth guiltily and push your shoulders up. You back away step by step as you stare at him. It's been a while since you met a single person who wasn't demanding or just downright rude. Maybe holiday cheer isn't dead.
You retreat inside with a sheepish smile and let out a brr as the door swings shut behind you. You rub your hands together then peel of the wet gloves. You tuck them into your pocket and unzip your jacket. You go to the back room and chew your lip.
You're not the Christmassy type or whatever other special occasions are going on. You hate it all. It's too shiny and loud. Too greedy the way people will argue over something as simple as a three-wick candle or face scrub.
What family you do have aren't very cozy. You haven't talked to either of your parents in two years and your sister never really answers your texts. It's just you and it isn't so bad. Other people just make things complicated. Without them, you have the control.
You put your things away and tramp back out to the till. You can see the snow flying through the windows. The man effortlessly throws chunks of it out of his way. Somehow, he looks even bigger from there.
You feel awkward, especially with no one else around. You go to a shelf to distract yourself, turning the jarred candles label out to appear busy. The bell above the door jingles and you look over your shoulder at the man. He pauses before he enters to shake the shovel off then leans it against the wall.
He looks around as you retreat from the candle display and watch him. There’s not much for him here. You’re sure he’ll be off soon enough. He rubs his hands together then strips off his mitts. He slips them into his pockets and gives a curious glance over the table of bath bombs and salts.
“You know,” he brushes his fingers over his beard so some of the melting snow falls away, “I’m looking for a gift.”
“Oh? Well, we have lots here,” you keep your distance. You’re not sure you believe him. He’s probably just humouring you. “Thanks again for shoveling. You know, you don’t have to stick around. Actually...” you peer through the windows again, “should probably head out sooner than later.”
“I got time,” he argues. “She’s real pretty. Girl I’m buyin’ for. So she probably wants somethin’ smells pretty too.”
“Right, uh...” you twist your fist around a finger. You might as well get a single sale. It’s more than you hoped for. “We have some nice seasonal candles. Apple crisp, or candy cane, oh, the fruitcake is kind nice.”
“You like candles?” He asks.
“Sometimes. I don’t get the big ones.”
“Ah,” he comes closer and you make room for him to browse. He picks up a smaller one and sniffs it. It looks tiny in his beefy hand. All of him sticks out among the dainty aesthetic of the boutique. “Mm, caramel brulee.”
He reads the side and his eyes scan the shelves again, “what else do you like? Think maybe you know best.”
“Oh, um, I...” you have to stop yourself from saying you don’t shop here. It’s too expensive. You get the discounts on dupes down at the mall. “Bath bombs are popular right now. Especially these snowflake ones. Oh and, we sell hot chocolate bombs. Those are edibles, these ones aren’t.”
You point to the table as you pass him. He follows. You laugh nervously at your own lame joke.
“Makes sense. I like hot chocolate. It’s the perfect weather for it, huh?”
“Yeah, it is,” you agree.
He comes to stand beside you as you gesture to the merchandise. You’re not used to that. The rare customer is a bit oblivious to physical space but more often they stay around the other side of the table. He’s right there.
“Face masks too. It could be a little self-care kit if you wanted,” you suggest.
“Mm, it does sound nice,” he says. “You think it’s a good present?”
“Well, I get paid to sell this stuff,” you shrug, “but yeah, it’s hot bath season.”
“Makes sense,” he nods.
You step back and give him space. He hums and circles the table as you go back to the counter. You check your phone. *Extreme Weather Warning*. You should call Gloria back and let her know. If the county says you should go home, you’ll insist on doing so.
“Cherry blossom or... vanilla coconut?” The man asks.
“Hm, vanilla,” you smile at him then quickly look at your phone again. You type out a text to Gloria.
He surprises you as he approaches and puts down a selection of items. The candle, a few bombs, some face masks, a shampoo bar, one of the little lotion and balm kits, and a spa headband. It’s a lot and it’s all very cute.
“Think that’s good, don’t you?” He asks.
“I think so,” you scan each item. “A very special lady indeed.”
“Sure is,” he taps his fingers on the counter as his eyes bore into you. “I’m Sy, by the way...” he reads your name tag aloud and you’re surprised until you remember you’re wearing it.
“Sy,” you repeat back. “Need a bag? Sorry, we’re all out of wrap or I’d offer that.”
“Bag is just fine, think my girl’s easy to please. She appreciates the simple things,” he grins and grips the edge of the counter.
“Alright,” you unfold a paper bag and gently place the items inside. “I hope likes it all. I’m sure she’ll love it.”
“Me too,” he takes out his card and swipes.
The machine dings and the receipt prints. You tear it off and hand it over, sliding the bag across the counter. He takes the slip of paper but leaves the purchase as it is.
“Um, did I forget something?” You search the countertop, worried something rolled away.
“It’s for my lady,” he gently nudges the bag back across the counter.
“What?” You frown, confused.
“S’for you, sugar. So you can warm up tonight.”
“Tonight? Sir--”
“Sy,” he insists, “best get home before the storm gets worse.” He turns to look out the windows. “No one coming out in this. Might as well close down.”
“Sy, this is very nice of you but I’m fine. My boss wants the store open--”
“Your boss?” He turns back to you and tilts his head, “ain’t a good one if they aren’t thinking about you gettin’ home safe.” He stares you down and looms over the counter, “’sides, a lady’s only boss is her man. So you go get your coat and things and we’ll be off.”
“Sy, that’s... that’s not—I'm not your lady--”
“Not?” He narrows his eyes. “I know you ain’t got another man, you wouldn’t be here if ya did.”
“I-- no—but--”
“You come with me or I stay,” he crosses his arms and leans his elbows on the counter. He plumes a snarl out of his nose, “up to you, but you’re not goin’ out in this alone, sweet thing. Need me there to dig ya out, don’t you?”
You flinch and shake your head, “I don’t-- I don’t know you--”
“Sure ya do, I’m Sy,” he grins. “And I know you. You’re the most pretty girl I ever seen.”
You stare at him. He’s as formidable as the heaps of snow building outside the shop. As dangerous as the patches of ice forming on the road. He is a storm in man’s clothes. He’ll bowl you over just as easily as those winds.
Just like the blizzard blowing in the street, you can’t escape him.
#captain syverson#dark captain syverson#dark!captain syverson#captain syverson x readaer#sand castle#fic#dark fic#dark!fic#december daze#navy and roo's sleepover
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The end of the year can be tough for a lot of people. My goal is to make it a little bit brighter! Announcing once again the return of..
The Portal Holiday Spirit Initiative!
To help bring a smile to people's faces this year, I am sending FREE Portal-Themed Holiday Cards to anyone who requests one!
This year's cards follow the same format as last year: there is only one card design, this time featuring artwork from your's truly! The cards are still customizable to any Winter Holiday of your choosing, but you'll have to wait for your card to arrive in order to customize it (the method takes cues from the Portal game's sense of humor, and is very much on-brand).
This year is PHSI's 6th year! I'm so grateful to everyone who has participated over the years, whether you've reblogged and shared, requested cards, helped with artwork, or helped in other ways. You all are so amazing! Thanks for volunteering your time, talents, and support to help make PHSI a special fandom tradition!
If you would like to receive a Portal-Themed Holiday Card:
Visit bit.ly/PHSI-2024 ...
Answer the questions in the forms...
Wait for your card to be sent!
It's that easy! Card Requests are now open, and close on December 20th in order to give me enough time to make and send all the cards before the end of the year. Please submit sooner rather than later so I have time to finish them all!
Also, please don’t be afraid to request a physical card if you don’t live in the US! The card service I use says they ship worldwide and, while it might take a bit longer for you to receive your card depending on what country you live in, the cards will get mailed to whatever address you provide, domestic or foreign. Last year I mailed/emailed a total of 111 cards to the United Kingdom, Canada, United States, Brazil, Romania, Poland, Australia, Germany, India, Japan, and New Zealand!
I’m glad to be a part of the Portal Fandom and hope to bring a smile to others in the Fandom this year, just as in years past! Designing and emailing Holiday Cards takes time and effort, and sending physical cards is expensive. While it isn't a requirement to receive a card, I would greatly appreciate if you'd like to give $4 to cover the cost of your card or someone else's. Please visit ko-fi.com/247testing and click the Donate button if you want to help out. Thanks!
Answers for common questions and concerns below:
Worried about providing a mailing address, for whatever reason?
PHSI has an eCard option! All you need to provide is a name for me to call you by and an email address to receive your card!
Worried about requesting a card because you don’t live in the US?
PHSI mails to any address provided, whether domestic or foreign! However, please wait patiently for your card, due to the current global rate of shipping.
Worried that you can’t give $4 to cover the cost of your card or someone else’s?
Requesting a card from PHSI has been and will always be FREE! However, giving $4 to the initiative helps me pay for the printing service and postage to mail physical cards. I gratefully appreciate any contributions received, even if it’s just a comment saying thanks!
Worried because you don’t know how to support the artist of the card you received?
The artist’s social media is listed on the back of every card featuring their artwork. Look them up, commission them, reblog their art, and support them however you can!
Worried because you haven’t received your card yet?
Double check your email inbox and junk folders. I send everyone an email that either confirms your Holiday Card has shipped or includes your eCard! Physical cards take 1-2 weeks to arrive. If your physical card fails to show up after the first week of January, please reach out to me and I’ll send you a replacement eCard!
Worried because you received your card and don’t know what to do now?
Make a post about it! Include pictures, videos, or anything you’d like, and tag me in the post (@24-7-testing) so I can reblog it! If you don’t want to show your card off, that’s ok too!
#PHSI 2024#portal holiday spirit initiative 2024#6th year of phsi!#psa#please boost#portal fandom#still alive#aperture science#aperture laboratories#portal#portal 2#fandom tradition
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ever fallen in love (with someone you shouldn’t have fallen in love with) by @everwitch-magiks (book-verse)
@dot524: Such a fun little punk band AU. There’s a meet-cute, some mild angst, and emotional music scenes with bonding. Plus, great cameos of June, Nora, and Alex’s family. I enjoyed the pacing, dialogue, and character development of this AU and its feel-good ending, and it was fun to see them as punk rockers!
Still Sitting in the Corner I Haunt by BrokenChair, mister_nic (book-verse)
@suseagull04: This fic is a high school AU and Groundhog Day combined! Henry is characterized so well in this fic, and each part of this 5+1 has both obvious and subtle differences that combine to make the perfect fic!
The Tea Shop on Verbena Street by @stutteringpeach (book-verse)
@suseagull04: If every fic was this good, I would never get any work done, because it was really hard to put this fic down! The mystery aspect of it is crafted so well, and to top it all off, this is the best slowburn I've read in awhile. Definitely a fic you don't want to miss out on!
Pretty Competent by @noahreids (book-verse)
@na-dineee: Single Dad Alex and hockey captain Henry Fox meet for the first time at Alex’s daughter’s tryouts – and yeah, they take it slow. But honestly, Alex flirts like crazy, Henry’s texting game is on fire, and to top it all off, Alex’s daughter is totally smitten with Henry. My heart does somersaults just thinking about this super sweet and super sexy fic.
The stranger you recognise by @clottedcreamfudge (book-verse)
@suseagull04: Usually I think the sequel is never as good as the original, but that's absolutely not the case with this fic! The version of our faves that we know and love from The Tea Shop on Verbena Street return, and CCF has so much respect and love for these characters that it's impossible to tell that the sequel isn't written by the original author, only with their permission. Add to that the fact that this fic adds tropes that make perfect sense in this verse, and you've got yet another fic that's worthy of becoming a classic. I'll definitely be reading this fic again soon!
Hit (My Love) Out of the Park by bleedingballroomfloor (book-verse)
@suseagull04: Rivals to lovers at its finest! I love the way this fic comes full circle and that it's so fun- the author's love for the sport definitely shows!
the full spectrum of human emotion by @firenati0n (book-verse)
@suseagull04: if you're a fan of movie AUs, you definitely need to read this one! Roop took all the best parts of The Proposal and gave them a RWRB twist! Arthur feels, ALLLLL the proposal feels, just enough nods to the movie to make fans like me happy without writing it word for word, our boys being so oblivious but so soft at the same time, so much heart that it's practically bursting at the seams with it... I can't say it enough, this fic is absolutely AMAZING, a must read!
Flirting for Dummies by @smblmn (book-verse)
@suseagull04: This fic is the perfect combination of holiday fluff, our boys being oblivious and Henry and June being besties! The perfect read to get anyone into the holiday spirit!
I must tell you what you will not ask by @lizzie-bennetdarcy (book-verse)
@suseagull04: combine a college roommates AU with oblivious firstprince (especially Alex, as always) and holiday feels and you have an incredibly soft fic that I'll likely find myself reading again and again, especially during the holiday season!
Careful Cooking by @iboatedhere (book-verse)
@na-dineee: Alex and Henry first met at culinary school, where they were inseparable—how did they end up parting ways?! Years later, they cross paths again under unexpected circumstances … It’s a lovers-to-exes-to-lovers story, with quite a bit of angst. Beautifully written, the tension builds perfectly, and the ending is just as lovely.
Pumped by @myheartalivewrites (book-verse)
@na-dineee: Firstprince goes Climbing AU! Set in London, Alex and Henry meet at their favorite hobby: climbing. After a rocky start, the game is on. Everything about this fic is perfect: the vibes, the banter, the sparks, the pacing, the pining—such a classic and one of my all-time favorites!
Got a will to win and a Cheshire grin by @kiwiana-writes (book-verse)
@suseagull04: This fic is so unique and fun! It captures a year in Alex and Henry's lives as Santa's elves and what that job entails, and the twists and turns all lead to such a satisfying conclusion!
check out our past Monthly Faves here ❤️
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What Your Favorite Link Says About You
A.k.a. The Links as tarot cards/your rising sign/your blood type.
Time
You're likely an older Zelda fan. Ibuprofen has become a food group for you. Anyone who thinks OoT isn't the greatest Zelda game has you clutching your pearls and tutting. Kids these days don't know how good they have it.
You are a person to whom young people come for advice, either in your career or in life in general. You're happy to give it, especially because you love to help, but on the inside you're silently screaming, What?? Why me???
You may have trouble sleeping through the night. Even if it's not every night, there are some where you just can't turn your brain off and worries or worst-case scenarios just keep playing and replaying ad nauseaum.
You enjoy time in solitude to appreciate the beauty of nature. I bet you know how to braid a mean daisy crown.
“The flow of time is always cruel...” - Some event in your life took your innocence from you, perhaps much too early. You grew up quickly because of it.
Legend
Either you had a crush on the emo kid in high school or you were the emo kid in high school.
You might be jaded by the world, but you still have a solid work ethic and a soft heart despite it all. Even if you hide it all beneath a healthy layer of sass.
You possess a multitude of skills, not all of which are related. Anytime a friend needs a piece of clothing mended or a picture frame hung on the wall or a leak in a faucet addressed, you have the tools and the willingness to help.
Either you have a history of moving frequently when you were young, or you have a restless spirit. You may never quite feel 'at home' in any given place.
"But, verily, it be the nature of dreams to end." - You’ve suffered a meaningful loss in your life and you have a hard time opening up again because of it.
Hyrule
You root for the underdog, or perhaps you are the underdog. Any of those "against all odds" stories just hit you square in the chest.
Somewhat quiet by nature, you do vital work behind the scenes but you aren't the type to seek out a leadership position. Leave the limelight to somebody else, please.
You might sell yourself short when it comes to your skills and abilities, but you should believe in yourself, man! You can do it!!
You have a capricious streak in you that rears its head now and again. That smile can look sharp and devilish in the right light.
"It's dangerous to go alone!" - You either already have or are destined to find 'that one person' with whom you can open up and truly be yourself.
Twilight
I'm willing to put money on the fact that Twilight Princess was your first Zelda game.
You have a strong sense of justice and get really bent out of shape when you encounter unfairness or flaw in the system, whatever that may be. You might be considered an outsider in some way because of this.
You're the friend who scoops spiders up in a cup and sets them outside. Live and let live.
You were the 'wolf kid' in middle school. Come on, those amazing tie dye shirts? Wolf Woman? Julie of the Wolves?? Even if you kept it inside, it was there in some way.
"Your current power would disgrace the proud green of the hero's tunic you wear." - You put a lot of stock in the opinions of others and hold yourself to a higher standard because of it. Sometimes that standard isn't achievable, though, so try to be kind to yourself.
Sky
You, my friend, have a soft heart. You're generally a happy-go-lucky sort of person. You're likely to make excuses for those who've been mean to you in the past and come out as friends on the other side.
You're crafty, or at the very least good with your hands. You're the type to give someone a handmade gift rather than go buy something for them for their birthday, a holiday, etc.
You have a strong affinity for your friends. If anything bad were to happen to them, you'd turn violent at the drop of a hat.
You may have some level of chronic illness that affects you. Although you might do things in a different way or at your own pace, though, you still come out on top.
"You fight like no man or demon I have ever known." - You have the capability for great things. World-changing sorts of things. Don't give up!
Wild
You're some flavor of neurodivergent, if I had to guess I'd say ADHD. You have 42 tabs open in your brain at any given time and you have no idea which one the music is coming from.
You're an incredibly creative person, although you might have trouble finishing tasks/works-in-progress. Doesn't mean you didn't learn something along the way!
Rigid guidelines or deadlines stress you out. You'd rather be given a goal and decide for yourself when and how to get there. When you do have a deadline, you're a bit of a procrastinator.
Sometimes you don’t get the 'right' way to do things, but you carve your own path--although sometimes it's unorthodox--and get there in your own time.
"Courage need not be remembered, for it is never forgotten." - In spite of how your life changes you, for better or for worse, you have a driving inspiration or ethic or vocation that moves you forward at all costs.
Warriors
Those who don't know you well tend to boil you down to one or two trite traits. In reality, you contain multitudes. Most people couldn't handle all of you, not that they deserve to know even part of you.
You tend to lay it on thick--be that your charm, attitude, or whatever else your social shield might be--because you're hiding some deeper secret or insecurity at your core.
You're the mom friend or the planner in your group, or perhaps you're the oldest child. You’ll pass on an authority role if and when you can, but likely you’re still involved in some supervisory capacity in a given situation.
You kill spiders with fire. Show NO mercy.
"You dare raise the blade of evil's bane to me? So be it. Hyrule's blood will be on your hands." - You have strong convictions and you aren't afraid to take risks, major risks, to do what you know to be right.
Four
Babe, if you ain't short, you've got short person energy. You scare me a little bit tbh.
You were praised for not being a problem child growing up, or for being very responsible at a young age.
You have a vivid imagination! You may have had an imaginary friend as a child or lived in your own little world altogether. I bet your notebook pages were strewn with little doodles in school.
You're a lover of information. If you could choose between an afternoon at the library or a movie matinee, it would be the former.
"Hanging around with you fools is dangerous for my health." - You're the snark friend, aren't you.
Wind
You are extroverted to a fault. You need the company of others to recharge that social battery. The quintessential golden retriever friend.
You had active involvement in the music and theatre department. I'd be surprised if you weren't in at least one show in high school.
Having adventures is where it's at! You're a big fan of travel, either cross-country road trips or international flights. You could happily live out of a suitcase.
You tend to make friends easily wherever you go. If everyone in this classroom/workplace/bar doesn't know your name already, they will pretty quick.
"I have been waiting for you, boy... Do not betray my expectations.” - Against all odds, you've proven yourself to be worthy of great things. Screw what fate has in store! You're the type to take your own destiny by the 'nads.
#stormy talks#what your fav link says about you#that dissertation i mentioned#loz#legend of zelda#ocarina of time#twilight princess#skyward sword#breath of the wild#tears of the kingdom#hyrule warriors#zelda#a link to the past#four swords#minish cap#majora's mask#link's awakening#windwaker#i am definitely forgetting a few
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THE YULE DRAGON … holiday one - shot ( 17+ )
pairing : poly!dragon!ateez x witch!f!reader
genre : dragon au, fantasy au, holiday au, fluff, angst
word count : 4.3k
warnings : language, mentions of dragon hunters, talks about death, light injury but nothing major, one death threat
suffer tag : @sanjoongie and for anon who asked about any new chapters
note : very excited to write this, so let me know what you think! also here is a link to what y/n's dress at the yule gala looks like!
the winter month draws near and the clan prepares to celebrate the yule dragon festival for the first time in years. knowing this is wooyoung's first one with an actually clan, you want to make sure everything is perfect.
when you woke up in the morning, you noticed how snow had slowly begun to fall and lay on the ground. you also couldn't help but notice how the dragons around you seemed to have been in good moods. smiles on their faces as they walked around and some even greeted you with warm smiles.
when you arrived at the nursery, the hatchlings all immediately greeted you. most of them run up and tackle you to the ground.
"miss y/n! miss y/n! did you see the snow?" one hatchling, jiyu, asked and you couldn't help but laugh as you nodded and pushed some hair out of her face.
"yes, i did. very beautiful isn't it?"
"not as beautiful as you, miss y/n!" another hatchling, minjae, said. the other hatchlings couldn't help but agree with minjae and you couldn't help but laugh at them all.
"prince mingi said that we will be able to celebrate the yule dragon festival this year!"
"the yule dragon festival?" you remember wooyoung telling you about the holiday years ago when you first met. you can't help but feel excited knowing he's going to enjoy a real one this year.
"yeah! it's been years since the clan last held one," seeun says and that quickly catches your attention. years? you thought the holiday was a yearly thing?
"alright, little ones, let's go ahead and get ready for the day," mingi comes in and ushers the hatchlings away from you in order to gather them in a line so they could eat.
you push your curiosity down for later as you go over to help mingi with the hatchlings. you watch the hatchlings with a warm fondness as they eat and talk to each other, and the rest of the day goes by in flash with you and mingi taking care of the young dragons.
"miss y/n, have you ever experienced a yule dragon festival before?" one of the hatchlings asked as they were laying down for a nap. the question of one hatchling seemed to have caught the attention of a few others around you two.
"not a proper one with a true clan, but me and wooyoung used to do a small celebration before we came to the clan," you said as you remembered your time with wooyoung back in your cottage. you can feel your cheeks heat up as you remember the first time you both celebrated the yule dragon together.
"do witches have any special holidays?" another hatchling, siyu, asked.
"we do but they're not like the yule dragon one. we focus more on what we are thankful for and mourning those that have left us," you explain.
"that sounds sad."
"sometimes it is sad, but then you have to remember that even those that left this world are still with us in spirit. watching over and guiding us on the right path of destiny," you say.
"but miss y/n, you don't have to be sad anymore because you have all of us!" one hatchling said with the others immediately agreeing and you couldn't help but smile at all of them.
"okay, okay, everyone," mingi says as he comes in and immediately calming all the hatchlings down. "its time to rest, not get excited."
"but prince mingi," minjae says looking towards the tall prince, "don't you agree that miss y/n doesn't have to be sad anymore, since she has all of us now?"
"of course," mingi says as he bends down to pet minjae's head, "but miss y/n still has a right to miss those that she lost. we all do. now come on, everyone, time to rest!"
you can't help but smile at how some of the hatchlings groan at mingi's words, but nonetheless all lay down in their little nooks. you and mingi go through and make sure each hatchling is comfortable before you leave the nesting room.
you watch as mingi closes the door behind him before he's offering his arm to you. you take his arm with a smile as he escorts the two of you back to the main palace wing.
"i meant what i said though," mingi begins and you look at him with a raised eyebrow, "that you have a right to be sad about those you lost, but also know that hatchlings are right as well and that you have all of us now. the hatchlings, me, wooyoung, yeosang, the others, and even the clan. you have all of us."
"thank you, prince mingi," you say, reaching up to press a kiss to his cheek and he smiles at you before quickly pressing his own kiss to your lips. "also," you speak up after you two continue to walk, "what did the little ones mean when they said its been years since you all had a yule dragon festival?"
"well... we haven't had one since hongjoong's parents and brother were killed. hongjoong didn't want to have a large one with the whole clan, so this is the first time in five years that we have celebrated it as such," mingi explains and you nod your head in understanding.
"what caused him to suddenly change his mind?"
"well you and wooyoung of course," you wanted to laugh at mingi's answer. more like just wooyoung, you think. you decide to remain silent as mingi guides you through the palace.
"this will be wooyoung's first yule dragon with an actual clan in years," you note as you notice many dragons setting up and decorating the palace corridors with festive decorations. you can't help but feel excited knowing that wooyoung will be able to experience the real thing after so many years of not having it with an actual clan.
your mind goes back to when you and wooyoung would celebrate together back at the cottage. both of you dressing up, decorating the cottage, and spending the entire night together. wooyoung taught you the dances that he learned. even when you weren't celebrating the dragon holiday, you would find wooyoung and yourself dancing and just enjoying each other's company.
"hey, mingi?" you caught the dragon's attention and he turns towards you as you continue to speak, "is there... a way i can help set up the festival?"
"oh! umm, i think so. seonghwa is usually in charge of things like this, but i volunteered to help him this time, so..."
"do you need help?" you ask, feeling an excitement bubble up in your stomach.
"of course you can help," mingi says, a wide smile on his face and you mirror his smile, beaming up at him. the two of you share a quick hug, mingi lets out a small laugh at your excitement, almost not expecting it.
"thank you," you say, pressing a kiss to his cheek before you are separating yourself from him. you notice the blush that covers his cheeks and ears and you have to stop yourself from pouncing on the tall dragon from how cute he is.
as the next week goes by, you spend your time helping the dragons in the clan to decorate for the yule dragon holiday. at first some of the dragons were reluctant at accepting your help, but slowly and eventually they allowed for you to help with the decorations. sure they didn't trust you with the important stuff, but that was okay.
you only wanted to make sure everything was perfect for wooyoung, he needed to have the best yule dragon after everything he has done for you. you also wanted to make sure the clan had a good one as well, but wooyoung took priority in your heart.
"wow, look at these decorations, darling," yeosang's voice snaps you out of your thoughts and you look down from your spot on the wooden ladder to see your lover looking up at you with a smile. you finish hanging the silver garland before climbing down the ladder and yeosang is quick to press a loving kiss to your lips.
"thank you, me and the hatchlings made them," you say, feeling rather proud from how all the decorations have been turning out. many of the other clan dragons complimenting you on your hard work.
"you've been working so hard, a lot of the clan members are grateful for your help," he says as the two of you begin walking out of the grand hall, where the yule gala will be held tomorrow night. other dragons are busy around you all finishing up last minute details, with most of them stopping to bow at yeosang before scurrying away to finish their task.
"i have something for you, princess," he says once the two of you are out of the grand hall and you give him a confused look which only makes him smile. "it’s custom for everyone to wear special outfits, rather a little too fancy if you ask me, but people really enjoy it," he begins as the two of you continue to walk down the hall.
"and i bet you completely forgot to make sure you are prepared for the gala," yeosang teases and you felt yourself get flustered at his words. "but don't worry because you wonderful mate has taken care of you," he says as you both stop in front of your chamber doors. "i hired a seamstress to make you a dress and thankfully she managed to finish it in time."
"wait, yeosang– you... you didn't, you shouldn't have."
"but i did, and i wanted to. my darling, you have done so much, let me give you this," he says, cupping your cheeks before leaning over and kissing you. you feel yourself melt into the kiss as you press yourself closer to your lover, arms wrapping around his waist. the two of you only separate when you're out of breath and yeosang presses one last kiss to your lips before he's pulling away and opening the door to your bedroom.
when you stepped inside, you were completely shocked at the dress that rested on the mannequin in the center of your room. you had honestly never seen a dress more beautiful in your life and you felt yourself tear up because of it. you felt like you didn't deserve a dress as gorgeous as this.
"it's beautiful, yeosang."
"you look absolutely beautiful, my fire," seonghwa says when he sees you walk into the grand hall.
the gala had been going on for several minutes, hongjoong lighting the ceremonial flame that burned in the center of the clan. you were amazed at the flame and its rather unique color, and mingi explained that this flame could only be lit by the leader of a clan and that it in order to celebrate the first dragon.
you honestly couldn't look away from the flame, almost like it was meant to entrance you.
"thank you, prince seonghwa," you said, bowing slightly to the eldest dragon prince. seonghwa could only smile as he took your hand into his before pressing a kiss to the back of your hand.
"make sure you enjoy yourself," he says, not yet letting go of your hand. "i want a dance before the night is over."
"of course, your highness," you say, a small smirk taking over your lips before seonghwa is nodding and making his leave. he does unfortunately have other people to see and talk to.
your eyes scan around the grand hall, looking for the head of familiar red hair and you feel your heart skip a beat when you finally find him. wooyoung looked absolutely handsome in his outfit and you were glad to see that he matched the other princes. it made your heart flutter knowing that wooyoung was being accepted by the clan.
you made your way over to your first lover, your feet picking up speed when you two made eye contact. you felt like it had been forever since you last seen wooyoung – however it had only been a few hours. you had been so caught up in making sure the festival and gala were perfect for him that you had completely forgot to pay the red-headed dragon attention.
so you immediately wrapped wooyoung in a tight hug once you were close enough. wooyoung was quick to return the hug, holding you close to him as he inhaled your scent before pressing a kiss to your neck.
"my y/n, you look so beautiful," he says as he twirls you around, the white-silver fabric that was decorated with beautiful shimmering stars and moons. wooyoung had seen the dress, yeosang having shown him before you and he knew you would look beautiful in it. but of course, seeing you actually in it he was blown away by your appearance.
"are you having a good time, woo?" you ask, heart beating rapidly waiting for his answer.
"of course i am," he says with a smile, "mingi mentioned how you helped out with this whole thing. any reason why?"
"you, of course," you say, both your hands linking with his. "this is your first yule dragon with an actual clan in a long time. i wanted to make sure it was perfect."
"oh love," he says, gently pulling the two of you off to the side, "you didn't need to do that. it would have perfect no matter what because i'm celebrating it with you. back at the cottage... i saw the two of us as our own little clan. and the yeosang joined," wooyoung says and you can't help but laugh at his last comment. despite mating and bonding with yeosang, wooyoung still couldn't get over the other dragon coming in basically setting up camp in your little cottage.
"you love yeosang, don't try to fool yourself," you tease and wooyoung grumbles a little bit before rolling his eyes.
"whatever."
you were about to say something when the sound of a familiar tune filled the grand hall. you turned to see a lot of the people gathering at the center and began dancing. you noticed mingi pulling yunho behind him to the dance floor with many of the other dragons cheering for the two tall princes. following them, you see yeosang and san dancing and you were a little surprised at seeing the blonde guard dancing and smiling as him and yeosang looked at one another.
"wow, who knew san could smile," wooyoung says and you crack a smile before turning to your lover.
"shall we join them as well?" you ask and wooyoung nods before he's pulling you towards the dance floor and you two quickly fall into a rhythm of the dance. the music easily guided you as you and wooyoung danced, you felt your whole attention center in on your lover and it felt like it was just the two of you.
you got flashbacks to when you and wooyoung would dance in your cottage. how back then it really was just the two of you and no one else, but now you were surrounded by people that even if they all didn't welcome you, they welcomed wooyoung. and even if you didn't feel welcomed at first, you have mingi, yeosang, the hatchlings.
seeing wooyoung smile and laugh and enjoy himself made you feel like you were on cloud nine. even if he wouldn't say it out loud, you knew wooyoung enjoyed being a part of the clan.
you felt the music guide you and your thoughts, as the music began to slow down you found yourself and wooyoung also slowing down. wooyoung pulling you close to him, his arm coming to wrap around your waist to hold you close to him.
"i have you had your ceremony?" wooyoung suddenly asks, snapping you out of your happy daze. you knew immediately what he was talking about.
"not yet, i was waiting till after the gala was over," you say, feeling a lump form in your throat at knowing what you would have to do later.
just like dragons, witches also had their own traditions and such. not as public as the yule dragon, but more intimate to each witch. celebrating those that you left you in this world. wooyoung has been with you during this ceremony like you have been with him for his. you don't know how many nights you have fallen asleep, crying in wooyoung's arms because of all the witches that have died.
"do you want me there with you?" he asks, and it takes you a moment to think about it.
"no, i'll do it alone this time."
"are you sure?" you nod your head, you didn't want to ruin wooyoung's good time here with your own traditions and ceremonies.
when the music changed once again, you pressed a kiss to wooyoung before stepping away, telling him you needed some fresh air.
"let me come with you," he says as he starts to trail after you, but you stop him.
"it’s okay," you say, hand out to stop him, "i'll be right back."
you don't give wooyoung a chance to say anything as you're turning and making your way to one of the many garden doors that lead out into the courtyard.
once the cold air hit your skin, you let out a sigh as you made your way over to one of the stone benches that overlooked most of the courtyard and even down further into the clan. the yule flame burned brightly a short distance away and you couldn't help but walk over to it. the flame reminded you of the flame that you would light for the umbra ceremony.
the flame burned brightly and you almost felt like a moth from how you were being drawn to it.
which is how you found yourself in front of it. the noises from the grand hall behind you is like static as you look at the flame, letting it consume you. you got flashbacks to when you would set up a room of candles for the witches that you lost, the flame from those candles burning brightly into your mind.
"why are you out here," the cold voice snaps you out of your thoughts and you turn to look at hongjoong with wide eyes. the prince looks at you with a stern expression, his cold eyes burning into your body.
"i was just... just getting some air," you tell him, refusing to fully make eye contact with him.
hongjoong lets out a 'tsk' sound before he's coming to stand next to you, looking up at the flame. you're surprised by how close hongjoong, this is probably the closest he has ever gotten to you without trying to kill you.
"mingi told me how you helped decorate for the festival," he said out of nowhere after the two of you stood in silence. "i guess witches can be good for something," he adds and you feel yourself deflate at his harsh words.
"i did it for wooyoung," you said wanting to make it clear that you were only doing it for your first love and no one else. "this is his first yule dragon with an actual clan in years," you add.
"and i'm sure witches are the reason why he had gone for so long without experiencing one with a clan," he says back.
"perhaps," you say as you clench your fist together tightly, "but wooyoung is here now with a clan," you turn your head to look at hongjoong, taking in his form once more. his lavish outfit and vibrant blue hair standing out against the dark night. he was the epitome of what a leader of a dragon clan should be in the fact that he always had that air of authority around him. everyone respected him and if they didn't respect him then they feared him.
you, unfortunately, feared him more than you respected him. the dragon oracles say that you two are mates like you are with the rest of the princes, but you knew hongjoong refused to acknowledge you as his mate. you were a witch, the thing that killed his parents and brother and forced him to take the role of leader too soon. you wondered if you and hongjoong would ever get along.
you notice how the flame reflects against hongjoong's skin and then something hits you.
"please excuse me, prince hongjoong," you say suddenly before you are rushing past him. hongjoong doesn't say anything and you don't know if he watches you leave as you are too caught up in rushing back into the palace.
you run to your room, feeling out of breath as you enter your chambers you share with wooyoung before going over to the large trunk that rested at the foot of the bed. you quickly dig through the trunk and pull out a set of candles. all three a beautiful rose color and it reminds you greatly of your mother.
"what are these for mother?" you asked, looking up at your mother as she handed you the three candles. they were different from the ones you were use to lightly for the umbra ceremony and you wondered why she was giving them to you.
"these are special candles, y/n, i made them myself so you can use them when you need them the most," she explains, her voice seeming ever cryptic.
"when i need them the most?" you echo and she nods, a tight-lipped smile painting her features.
"they are for the one who will need to say goodbye the most."
you gripped the candles tightly as you raced back to the courtyard and was surprised to still see hongjoong standing there. somewhere deep inside wants you to believe he waited for you, but you know that's impossible.
"prince hongjoong," you say as you approach him. "i want to thank you for letting wooyoung into your home. i know that... you despise me and my people, you lost your parents and brother after all. and i know you probably don't care but i want to share something with you."
hongjoong turns to look at you, his face void of emotion as he watches you set the three candles down between the two of you. you crouch down, kneeling front of the candles as hongjoong stands towering above you.
"the umbra witches have their own ceremony, we light candles in order to remember those that have left us and this world. we do this as a way to remind us that while they have left this world physically, they are still here with us spiritually," you pause in order to take a deep breath, licking your lips before continuing.
"my mother made me these candles when she was still alive. she told me that they were for someone who needed to say goodbye, and... i think she made them for you."
"what the hell are you talking about?" hongjoong asks, voice full of surprise and anger. "i don't need any of you stupid umbra witch shit," he adds and you notice his fist clenches with his rage.
"please," you beg, voice straining as you plead with the prince, "take the candles, it will bring you peace, prince hongjoong."
you feel a sudden shock as you are grabbed by the collar of your dress. you're pulled up from your kneeling position, face dangerously close to an enraged hongjoong as he bares his teeth at you. in the moment you are reminded that you are at the mercy of a clan full of dragons whether you liked it or not.
"i will never," he jaw clenched tightly as he speaks, "ever, forgive your damned people for what they did to my family. my people. so don't think so damned candles will change that. you will never be my mate and just know that if it wasn't for yeosang and mingi that i would have burned you at a stake a long fucking time ago."
hongjoong waste no time in throwing you to the ground, your hands skidding across the stone pathway harshly and you flinch at the sudden burn of skin. you turn to see hongjoong's eye burning, like he will kill you if you say anything else to him.
you then watch him destroy two of the candles, his foot coming down harshly on them and you feel like a part of you is being ripped apart as you watch him. he's about to do the same to the last one, but you move and grab the last candle. the last one your mother made.
then without thinking you stand up and run away from the prince. you clearly made a mistake in thinking that you could get hongjoong to open up just a little bit. you felt tears begin to form in your eyes as you ran, clutching the candle close to your chest as you collapsed in the one of the many decorated halls.
you looked down at the candle once more, the image of your mother's smile flashing inside your mind as you caressed it. you knew this candle was for hongjoong. he was the one who needed to say goodbye to those he lost, but it was obvious that now wasn't the time.
"y/n!" the sudden call of your name makes you snap your head up to see yeosang rushing towards you. face full of concern and he drops down to the floor next to you. "y/n, what's wrong, why are you crying?" he brushes the tears away and you open your mouth to say something before a sob escapes instead.
you throw yourself into his arms and he arms them around you protectively. you hold your mother's candle close to you as you allow yourself to cry in yeosang's arms. yeosang doesn't say anything, only letting you cry as a comforting hand runs over your hair.
"it's okay, y/n, i'm here," he says softly, holding you closer to him. "whatever made you sad, don't think about it anymore, okay? cause i'm here to protect you."
and so the night comes to an end as you spend the rest of it in yeosang's arms, allowing him to hold you closely as you mourn for the loss of your mother and the hate hongjoong bares for you.
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#dragon from the window.#cultofdionysusnet#kdiarynet#cromernet#ateez imagines#ateez x reader#poly ateez x reader#ateez scenarios#ateez fantasy au#ateez angst#ateez fluff#ateez dragon au#ateez wooyoung x reader#ateez yeosang x reader#ateez mingi x reader#ateez hongjoong x reader
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The land on which I walk is old. One of the oldest places on earth. The spirits of the land don't speak with me in a language I understand. My ancestors came to this land as prisoners and sailors. They brought with them practices and stories that don't match the land or its voices.
It is slow going, but I am learning the land and its seasons and traditional holidays, so different from those practised by my ancestors. I'm learning the traditional names of the places here and their stories. I'm trying to weave it into my practice, but it feels so separate due to our staunchly different cultural origins.
Even just the idea of 'witchcraft' is so European. The 'magic' of the traditional owners of the land on which I live tastes so different from my own. They also wouldn't call it magic... I don't know how to explain it. I've been talking with some of the local elders about how they would tell/ask for certain weather, and its been interesting to learn the signs, plants, and taste of local 'magic'.
This probably will not make any sense to anyone who isn't practising witchcraft in Australia, but meh - just some thoughts I had as I watched the black cockatoos at work.
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I had just finished the first chapter of the Axolotl arc in WAIGLZ and reading the second.
Is he technically being a ghost ever going to come up past this arc to the other chapters in WAIGLZ later on?
Like,
"It was not like y o u were the one who viciously murdered me! I am mean technically your gruncles did not even kill a "living" being in the first place, according to s o m e people,
Bill shook his head, fanning away trillion year old resentment
-"you really think it was my first roadio? P l e a s e . So, try not beat yourself up about it kid, ok?"
Mabel looked up and stared at Bill.
"Wha- Huh??" Mabel said dumbfounded.
It would be crazy coolio to see it mentioned in the main fic.
Until I read your fic I never even thought about Bill being a spirit once, and now I feel rather silly wondering how he lived so long outside of his dimension :,)
Please have a truly wonderful day + happy holidays! ^ ^
Toodaloo!
I'm sure eventually it'll be mentioned again (I mean, for one thing, eventually we're gonna see the massacre) but probably not like that.
Like, Bill technically-being-a-ghost isn't some big secret or a major plot twist, and it doesn't fundamentally rewrite the rules around him and what he does. It's just what we see him do throughout canon.
He's a non-physical entity ("a being of pure energy!") that's apparently self-sustaining without needing sleep or food and impervious to injury and illness ("with no weakness!")
He's usually invisible to normal (living) people. He can possess people. He can move inanimate objects even though he can't physically interact with them. He can haunt dreams.
When he has the opportunity to make himself a body, he doesn't turn into something physical; his physical form is separate from him, and he can freely separate from it any time he wants.
This is mind-body dualism. Generally, mind-body dualism is a framework people use to express the idea that the spirit/soul is a separate entity from the body. The thing that's killed in Stan's mind is the spirit; the statue left behind is the body.
Meaning, before he had that body, he was spirit.
When he separates Dipper's spirit from his body in the exact same way Bill separates from his own body, he says, "Without a vessel to possess, you're basically a ghost!"
Bill usually doesn't have a vessel to possess.
Ergo: Bill's basically a ghost and he said so himself.
I haven't listed anything we didn't learn from Sock Opera and Weirdmageddon.
The ONLY question is "well BEFORE he was an energy being, did he have a physical body?" Whether he was born an energy being or became one later is in the realm of headcanon; and I suppose it's a matter of opinion if an energy being counts as a ghost if it's 100% identical to ghosts in every way except that it didn't previously have a physical body. You could argue that his eagerness to get a physical body the second he could implies he used to have one or was meant to have one, but that's speculation.
In every other way, he meets the criteria for a ghost the same way that tomatoes meet the criteria for berries. But when someone tells you "tomatoes are berries," it doesn't teach you anything new about tomatoes. You already knew tomatoes have berry-like traits, you just assumed they were disqualified because they're too big or too unsweet or too vegetably, and now you know they aren't disqualified.
So like—putting that word on him doesn't change anything about Bill. You've learned nothing new. The characters around him would learn nothing new. It's not a plot twist or massive character revelation; it's just a background fact that gets mentioned when it's relevant.
#(so many people are making such a big deal out of calling him a ghost that I'm almost regretting writing it into the fic)#(folks are reading so much extra significance into it beyond what it really is: putting a word to what he already shows us in canon.)#(but i don't know how i could take it out since like... it is what he is? it underpins his powers & limitations.)#(deliberately making bill Not A Ghost would require completely altering his being in ways that'd probably involve rejecting bits of canon.)#(but it's REALLY made people's attention veer off course.)#(it's fun trivia not a gamechanger)#vivian za determined luna moth#ask#meta#bill cipher#(<- since this is really more about the character in general rather than the fic in question)#gravity falls
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hiii omg first of id like to say that yall are absolutely amazing and i love ur recommendations
secondly if its not too much trouble id like to ask for holiday fics because i definitely want to get into the holiday fic spirit rn :)
I'm bumping this up because, once again, the holiday requests are coming in too late. As stated in the pinned masterpost, it take us months to answer and queue asks, folks! We do have a #christmas tag. Here are more to add to the collection...
Secret Santa by AppleSeeds (T)
On the advice of his therapist, Crowley signs up to be a 'Secret Santa', an anonymous gift-giver for a community initiative aiming to bring some Christmas joy into the lives of people going through a hard time. He's partnered with Aziraphale, a librarian who has lost his home and bookshop in a fire. Through the power of Christmas Magic, Crowley ends up meeting Aziraphale in person when he takes his nephew to the library and is immediately smitten. He becomes determined to use his expertise and influence to give Aziraphale the only Christmas present that could really make a difference, but are some things too important to be kept secret?
it's lovely weather for a sleigh ride together with you by thealienmeme (T)
crowley is a journalist at the top of his game. he asks hard questions and never lets a story slip through his tight grip, but he's also never taken a vacation. with encouragement from his boss, he books a cabin on the outskirts of the small town of Tadfield to rent out for the month of december so he can finally relax and maybe work on his book. he doesn't have any family anyways and he isn't really a fan of christmas or the holidays... then a snow storm hits. stranded in Tadfield proper, he meets a fussy bookshop owner and learns that maybe christmas just needed a little more love.
Ships in the Night by tishae (G)
Aziraphale did not want to head home for Christmas. Spending the entirety of the holidays with his Mother and siblings seemed, if you asked him, like a special version of Hell carved out just for him. Making up a boyfriend that he was spending the season with seemed like a perfect excuse (and no, he wasn't going to think too hard about why he had provided Crowley's name), until his Mother had insisted they should both come. "It'd be great to meet him!" Aziraphale had no idea how he was going to explain this to the coffee shop owner he'd had a crush on for the last two years, much less convince him to take part, but he was about to find out. or It's Christmas time, and our ineffable idiots are faking a relationship while definitely not being totally, completely head over heels for each other.
Meet Me Under the Mistletoe by IneffableToreshi (E)
Earlier this year, popular romance novelist Anthony J. Crowley met the love of his life when his agent booked one "A.Z. Fell & Co." for his most recent book signing. Aziraphale is a huge fan of Crowley's books, and they become fast friends. Unfortunately, Crowley let's his nerves convince him that it wouldn't be right to initially pursue a fan romantically, and by the time he feels it's alright, they've become so close that he's terrified of the possibility of failure. But now it's nearly Christmas - a time for miracles, right? - and Crowley has a plan to, hopefully, make Aziraphale fall in love with him the way he's been dreaming of.
The Anon Before Christmas by foolishlovers (E)
When Crowley’s friend, blogging buddy and business partner Anathema announces her annual Secret Santa Exchange on Tumblr, she is very adamant Crowley should join this year. The old-fashioned (but admittedly compassionate) man he gets assigned to send anonymous messages to every day until Christmas sounds awfully similar to the fussy bookseller that his friends adore, yet Crowley tries to avoid at all costs. But surely his friends would have mentioned if Aziraphale had taken an interest in the Bad Omens fandom as well… right? Or: An Enemies to Lovers Secret Santa Tumblr AU.
Any Foolish Thing by Caedmon (E)
Crowley is an overworked divorce attorney on the brink of burnout in London. He's irascible and mean to everyone, on the verge of verbally abusive, until his law partner, Fergus, gives him an ultimatum: He can rusticate in the small town of Tadfield for a month and come back rested in the new year, or he can be fired. His choice. Grumbling, Crowley takes off to Tadfield, eager to get it over with - and to skirt Fergus' rules. But all of that changes when he has a chance encounter with the gorgeous man who runs Mr. Fell's Books and Bonbons...
- Mod D
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