#We defeated Santa

[ragingbullmode]

rewatching robot holocaust on tubi tee hee 😋

[perfectlyoongi]

DAD!JUNGKOOK who sings the nursery rhymes as if they were songs from his own show. with microphone in his hand, Jungkook began to use his sweet voice to entertain your child, making them dance between laughter and screams, helping them spin with his free hand; Jungkook jumped, taught your kid basic dance steps and did everything to ensure that those songs were something important and unique to your child. “the next song is dedicated to all the kids with big dreams! never give up on them! itsy-bitsy spider climbed up…”

DAD!JUNGKOOK who flooded the bathroom when bathing your child. whenever Jungkook offered to bathe your kid, you knew that endless moments of heartfelt laughter awaited you as well as several minutes of mopping; because, with rubber ducks and plastic boats, Jungkook always created a story without beginning or end, making your kid the great god who guided the little duckling back home — it was only natural for the great god to want a little turbulence in that sea so calm, right? “what if today we take the duck with us to the bathtub and take him to fairy island, popcorn?”

DAD!JUNGKOOK who buys matching pajamas for the whole family to wear during winter festivities. the arrival of the cold months brought with it the welcoming knowledge that family nights were just around the corner; to complement all the laughter and stories shared, Jungkook thought it best to ask santa for comfortable clothes for the whole family — it was just a coincidence that you received a reindeer onesie, Jungkook a snowman onesie, and your kid a little onesie of a gingerbread man. “what do you say we call your dami and we go create gingerbread houses before we go to bed?”

DAD!JUNGKOOK who builds a fort out of boxes and sheets to play magic with your child. in your back garden, boxes of the most varied sizes were strategically placed in a small castle adorned with old sheets from your old house; on the hottest summer days, when you went to drink lemonade on your patio, your relaxation time was complete with the sight of Jungkook on all fours roaring like a dragon while your kid, wearing a paper hat bigger than their head, shouted gibberish so that their wooden wand could defeat the great dragon Kook. “today i am going to tear down the entire castle and take the great magician Jeon to my cave!”

DAD!JUNGKOOK who paints the pavement with chalk with your child. on the most boring days, when Jungkook missed you and your child just wanted you to get home quickly, your husband would carry your little baby out on his back; with a bucket of chalk in hand, Jungkook and your kid spent hours painting the sidewalk in front of your house, creating a complex game of hopscotch, preparing a new game in colorful tones to be played when you got home. “your dami will love your idea of popping the bubbles that you painted. you are as creative as your father.”

DAD!JUNGKOOK who offered his childhood stuffed toy to your child when they had their first nightmare. you had been out with your friends the first night your child had a nightmare; awakened by their screams in the middle of the night, Jungkook quickly ran to your kid's room, seeing tears wiping their innocent face, making Jungkook's heart squeeze at such an agonizing sight. after calming your child with a hug filled with endless kisses, Jungkook would momentarily leave their room, only to return with a slightly grubby but very loved rabbit. “when i was little, here Mr. Hoppy fought all the monsters that wanted to take me. he told me it was his job to protect you now.”

DAD!JUNGKOOK who got a matching tattoo with your child when they turned 18. a heart made from the fingerprint of Jungkook's thumb and your kid's thumb gained a special place on their bodies; on the day your child turned eighteen, before going to celebrate with their friends, Jungkook took them to his favorite studio and, after deciding to wear the tattoo on their left ribs, your husband and son spent hours lying down exchanging small talk as they waited for the art to form within them. “don’t tell your dami it was my idea or i’ll sleep on the couch. say this was the gift you wanted, okay? please.”

[s-4pphics]

A/N: me vs writing what i’m supposed to aka moth aka vampire possession aka anyway here’s post santa barbara angst don’t ask questions im not really sure LOL

“You’re back.” 

Determined hands freeze in the dirt, the freshly watered daisies glistening under the beaming sun rays. Your soiled fingers halt all movement at the soft acknowledgment from behind. A sigh leaves your lips. 

“… I am.” 

An exhausted one, and it’s not from your strenuous labor in the garden. Your body refuses to turn, but holes burn in your spine, leaving behind lasered streaks of green. 

“Can you look at me?” Ellie pleads gently. The softest you’ve heard her be in months. 

What she doesn’t know is that you’ve been back. For a week actually, hiding out in other people’s homes throughout Jackson, assisting in places where Ellie’s least likely to go. The garden in particular; Pollen makes her sneeze. 

Time is vital and interesting; Dina left her and Ellie’s farmhouse with her son when you fled Jackson. She sought you out, but you weren’t there. You spent most of your time alone, walking, running, killing what you had to. Searched for peace, internal and external. The sight of the waterfall was worth the months-long trip. Your home is different now. Eerily quiet. The kids you helped teached to read don't play outside or laugh as often anymore. You hardly see Tommy or Maria around. Jesse is dead. Joel is dead. Dina isolates with JJ. Hugs him like she’ll die if she lets go. 

Ellie’s forever changed. The town’s forever changed, and you’ve finally accepted that it’s for the worse. 

“Is listening not enough?” 

Cordiality is beyond you. Spite is evident. Even the flowers can feel it. 

You tried to be patient, to coddle, to mourn and aid and tend. Sacrifice your own wellbeing for the sake of hers. You tried, Dina tried, Tommy didn’t but he did at the same time. Oddly, destructively, but in his own way. You blame him and don’t. Hate him and don’t. He’s violently and permanently scorned, but so are you. So is Ellie. She says nothing from behind you. You rise with a pop in your knees and an upturned lip. 

When you face Ellie, your knees wobble. Scarred: emotionally, physically, mentally. Permanently. Her eyes are more breakable than glass, the shattered hand that displays defeat hid shamefully behind her back. But her cheeks are fuller, no longer the hollow vacancies they were before she left. Maria was always on her back about finishing her meals. 

Grief is complicated. Hurt. Anger. The flowers wilt. Listening isn’t enough, and neither is sacrifice.

Ellie’s nose always twitches when she thinks. Your heart gives a sporadic pulse, but not enough to revive the shell you're trapped in. 

“I don’t want an apology from you.” 

She shakes her head, “I know.” 

“Then why are we talking?” 

Another twitch of her nose. She searches for something. “I—“

But then she flinches away from you, a bent arm coming up to cover her nose and mouth when she sneezes. A painful jerk thrums through your chest, but still not enough. 

“Bless you.” 

One more sneeze, but softer. A bit squeaky. Remnant of when you first met her at 13 and she followed you out to the greenhouse to watch you water the orange trees. 

“Thanks.” 

You nod stiffly. When she doesn’t say anything, you move to leave. Your work is done and she knows you’re back; There’s no point in being alone with her. 

Ellie doesn’t follow, but she does speak. 

“I’m trying.” 

You pause, one foot in front of the other. A doe learning how to walk for the first time. 

“I’m trying to be normal. I’m trying to be okay but it’s not working.” Her voice trembles.

You weren’t expecting a confession. Normal. An interesting use of the word. No one feels that anymore. 

“It probably won’t for a long time.” You state, just as quietly as she, “But if you stop trying, you’ll rot from the inside. If that’s what you want, then fine. But if not… That's all you can do now.” 

“Will we ever be okay?” 

‘We’ means many. ‘We’ means two. Your back’s to Ellie, but you can see her. Unmoving, but frantic. Her mind cranks at a million miles a minute. You feel her eyes on you. Too familiar. 

You’re not sure how to answer, so you don’t. You take one last look at her before you walk away. 

Flowers never look the same the next day. 

[sc0tters]

Night Before Christmas | Quinn Hughes

summary: as you struggled to fall asleep on christmas eve quinn had something to help solve your problem.

kinkmas: day five (cockwarming)

warnings: sexual themes, fingering, p in v.

word count: 1.87k

authors note: I am truly in love with this one! It’s much softer than my usual smuts but as I’ve been watching love actually whilst writing it we needed a bit of a breather for all that is kinkmas!

Holiday parties with the Hughes family had quickly become one of your favourite things.

Dating Quinn for the last three years meant that you were always his plus one for this event like any other. It also meant that you were officially in the stage where his family had moved on from questioning you to teasing Quinn about how he’s kept you for so long. Christmas Eve dinner had gone down a charm as everyone enjoyed seeing the Hughes boys back together. Of course though as the entire family watched you get dragged off by Quinn’s younger cousins who wanted to show you their newest dolls that have been added to their collections. Your moved presence came with questions of when he’d be putting a ring on your finger, and when you’d be having a family.

Quinn‘s blush as the questions came made the entire family laugh as they truly believed that the eldest son of Ellen and Jim had found his person, hitting the jackpot of love. It seemed that every time you or Quinn would reach for one another someone in his family was watching. The way your hand found itself in his hair during dinner softly scratching the nape of his neck as you smiled listening to whatever he had to say.

You treated his words like honey that you just wanted to soak up as you sat there in awe. Sure the family thought Quinn was wrapped around your finger but you were just as wrapped around his. They all thought you were his sweet innocent girlfriend who could do no wrong as you would bat your eyelashes at Quinn. But if only they knew the side of you that only came out at the hands of Quinn.

As the majority of the house lay fast asleep you couldn’t help it as you stared at the alarm clock next to your side of the bed. The starlight barely shone through the curtains reminding you of how late it was and Quinn’s soft snores weren’t helping as your mind went rampant struggling to find a moment of calm. You were brought back to your childhood when you were an excited kid desperate to catch Santa in the act of delivering presents into your stocking.

A loud sigh left your lips as you rolled over facing your boyfriend “Quinn?” You frowned bringing your leg up to brush your foot along his calf in a lousy attempt to wake him up.

Yet as you were met with silence you tried once more “Quinn.” Your voice was in a sing song tone that made Quinn smile as his eyes remained shut.

You took it as defeat huffing as you rolled back over deciding to try to catch some sleep before his cousins would inevitably come and wake you both up “c’mere.” Quinn mumbled reaching out to place his hands on your sides pulling you closer to him.

It resulted in a squeal leaving your lips “thought I’d surprise you.” He smirked kissing your earlobe making you roll over back to face him.

With the extra space between you both now being nothing you could barely make out Quinn’s features “now what’s wrong?” His tone was softer as he brought his hand up to cup your cheek.

The gesture alone was enough to make you melt “I can’t sleep.” You pouted making him laugh “it’s not funny!” You complained as Quinn leaned over to peck your lips.

As your mood didn’t improve it made him sigh “okay I’m sorry.” The hockey player apologised as he propped his head up by his elbow “what’s keeping you up?” The question frustrated you as it was one of those things that if you knew you would have sorted out.

You shrugged as you mimicked the way he leaned against his hand “I don’t know.” You shrugged making him roll his eyes “so you woke me up for that?” His sarcasm was missed by you as you frowned.

It made you drop to your pillow again “I’m sorry.” You were quick to stare at the ceiling “babe seriously what’s wrong?” Quinn groaned wanting to hear what plagued your mind.

A yawn left his lips at the worst time “just go back to sleep.” You mumbled shaking your head as Quinn reached for your hand pulling you back onto your side “what’s on your mind pretty girl?” He asked letting you see how concern coated his face when his fingers traced figures on your hip.

You chewed at the inside of your cheek “I feel off.” You announced acknowledging how weird it sounded “were they too much tonight?” Quinn knew that Jack and Luke had been teasing you about how Ellen’s friends called you Quinn’s wife at the beginning of the night.

His concern made you smile “no Quinn.” You shook your head “I’ll just go to sleep.” You sighed hearing footsteps in the hallway that shared the wall with your room “feel better already with you here.” You smiled pecking his lips as you lied to him.

In truth you still felt off but you now felt guilty keeping Quinn up “just want you to hold me.” You added as you rolled over backing yourself up against his body “you sure?” Quinn kissed your cheek as his legs laced between yours when his arms wrapped around your waist.

Quinn’s body was warm under the thick blankets that were layered on top of you both “like it when you do this.” You nuzzled your head into your pillow as your eyes latched onto the red lights of the alarm clock “sweet dreams princess.” Quinn grumbled into your ear sending shivers through your body.

Even as you two went silent Quinn knew you hadn’t gone to sleep as your breathing remained stable leaving you awake “baby?” You called out feeling Quinn’s hand travel down your stomach but were ultimately met with silence as his hand went below the strings of your shorts stopping when his tips of his fingers found your clit.

A cough left your lips as you couldn’t tell what he was trying to do “you trust me?” Quinn’s voice was soft as his breath fanned against the shell of your ear “o-of c-co-course.” You stammered as his fingers settled into a more consistent rhythm against your clit in a clockwise motion.

You moved your head back against his chest as you felt your body grow calm against him “gonna make you feel so good.” He cooed making you smile as his movements were slow enough to lull you to sleep.

The beds creaks were muffled by the sheer amount of blankets that you had over your bed and Quinn had never been more grateful about your tendencies to get cold when you slept “please Q.” You whispered like you were worried the house would have been alerted to what was going on if you spoke any louder.

His lips only response was to nip at your neck as you kept your hair in a bun “don’t be shy love.” Quinn’s smirk pressed against your skin making you feel all that more weaker as you grew weak to his touch.

Every minute of this was something Quinn wanted to soak in, using all of his self restraint to not turn the lights on as the intimacy of this moment “let the house hear how I make you feel.” For a man who was once so tired Quinn was now wide awake as his only objective was making you feel good.

Your wetness pooled his desires as his fingers sped up taking you even closer to your release making near in audible grunts and gasps leave your lips as you had one hand tugging on his hair and the other gripping at your bedsheets. Quinn’s cock grew hard pressing against your back and with each pretty sound that came from your plump lips “please don’t stop.” You begged whimpering as your body began to shake.

Tears formed in your eyes as it seemed like whatever block within your mind was coming undone with the mere movement of his fingers “I’m gon-” your eyes fluttered as you found your words getting caught in your throat.

Clothes stuck to your body as sweat formed on your body making you feel slick in places that went beyond your cunt “is this what you wanted from me when you woke me up?” Quinn kissed your neck as you knowing that this was better than any dream he had been in the middle of before you stopped it “no Q.” You called out as you felt your head growing heavy “don’t lie to me.” He warned sinking his teeth into the soft skin of your ear that was accessorised by your earrings.

Of course he knew you well, well enough to know that you were bullshitting him “just wanted to feel you.” You mewled arching your back from against him as you knew you could never fully come without Quinn’s cock inside of you.

It was like music to his ears as he began to slow his fingers “feel me?” The hockey player taunted clicking his tongue as you cried feeling over stimulated “n-n-no!” You sobbed as Quinn removed his fingers entirely from your shorts bringing them up to your lips.

A laugh left his lips “taste yourself for me.” Quinn tapped them against your lower lip making your jaw go slack listening to his requests “now you don’t go whine when I’m going to give you what you really want.” A shifting noise came from behind you making your eyebrows raise as you grew confused.

You didn’t have the chance to ask him as he pulled your flannel shorts down “don’t worry princess.” Quinn laughed as he shook his head “always gonna give you what you want.” Your questions were answered as his cock slid up your slit bringing delicate gasps from your lips once more.

He throbbed against you “Q.” You clenched around the head of his cock as he refused to let himself bottom out against your cunt “I’ll be good to you.” Quinn scoffed as his fingers pinched at your hips as your walls finally hugged his cock.

But as his hips remained still even after you adjusted to him you couldn’t help but grow confused “you feel better now?” Quinn asked yawning again as he grew sleepy.

Your clenching cunt was loosening as you too grew tired “thank you Quinny.” You smiled against your pillow “I’ll keep you like this for the evening.” His words were soft as his body melted against yours making you two some perfect statue.

A whimper fell from your lips as you thought about it “I love you.” Your words were muffled as a heavy sleep took over you making Quinn smile “love you too my sweet girl.” The hockey player cooed kissing your head once more before he too joined you in the state of slumber totally unaware of the moment the clock on your table hit midnight. Not only did it bring on the new day but it almost brought sounds of jingle bells that warmed the streets making anyone who was awake feel like they were dreaming too.

[gallusrostromegalus]

Well, I've had a High fever for a few days with Shingles that's preventing me from writing effectively, but has apparently given me new Clothing-Drawing Abilities, so here are Komamura and Tousen on their wedding day in AEIWAM.

Notes:

AEIWAM!Tousen is a Trans Man who has mathematically worked out that God Is Dead, you want to complain about what he's wearing to his wedding?

There are Mild Spoilers hidden in both outfits.

They filled out the paperwork the night Tousen finally woke up after defeating Aizen, at Tousen's insistence before something else had the opportunity to get in the way.

They still want to have a ceremony, but it's going to be a bit awkward as both are orphans, both sets of godparents are deceased or otherwise unalive (a different thing than dead in Soul Society), and there is not *technically* a bride.

But the best place to hid something mildly ridiculous is in a sea of something extremely ridiculous.

The Wedding is an act of Aggravated Chicanery upon all their friends and loved ones: They tell everyone they're hosting a Halloween Party, please come in the most outrageous costumes Possible.

Then when everyone has arrived, they lock the doors, unfurl the decorations and thrust stage directions into the hands of the Unsuspecting Wedding Party.

Yachiru is having a GREAT time being a Flower Velociraptor (She'd seen Jurassic Park so the contingent from the 11th is all present as Dinosaurs).

Rankigu and Nanao are recruited to help organize.

And so they won't seek revenge.

Hitsugaya *KNEW* something was up when Matsumoto suggested they do LotR costumes together, but thought this was her way of doing Big Naturals Gandalf*, but it was actually a trick to make him Frodo. The Ringbearer.

*It was also very much a justification for her to do Big Naturals Gandalf.

Shuuhei got talked into doing a group costume with Renji and Izuru, where the redhead is dressed as a bottle of Ketchup and the blond is Mustard, and now Shuuhei is standing up there as his Mentor's Best Man while dressed as a Hot Dog.

Tetsuzaemon Iba Doesn't have the excuse of friends. He Dressed up like Vegas Elvis all on his own.

After what happened with Byakuya, Yamamoto refuses to officiate any more weddings, just in case he's bad luck. He will walk Kaname up the Aisle though. As Santa.

Retsu Unohana, officiating in her capacity as a Highly Venomous Sea Slug: Dearly Beloved and Barely Tolerated- We are gathered here today to witness the union of two of the most unhinged assholes I know-

The Reception only gets wilder as Rangiku has arranged for there to be both an Open Bar and a Karaoke Machine.

[bluecollarmcandtf]

My Mall Santa

This is Christian. Right now he's suiting up to work as my Santa for the next few days, but that wasn't what he came in here to do. This guy walked into my mall and began yelling at me for running out of a certain item he wanted to buy; it was some fancy necklace for his fiance. I explained that specialty jewels like that get sold out fast this time of year, but he shot back with his own entitled arguments.

"Do you know who I am?" he yelled, "I'm not some plumber looking for a dime-store watch! Just show me to the high-end stuff!"

By that point, the whole jewelry store was staring, so I quietly relented, "Fine sir, follow me. Hopefully, we can find something for you."

I led him to the back, but I knew he didn't deserve a fine quality necklace, and his fiance didn't deserve a jerk like him. Sure, Christian was quite the catch; handsome, assertive, and obviously rich. Just a glance at him would give that away...

...but my Santa called in sick that morning, so I'd been waiting all day for some asshole to test me and see what happens. Christian was about to discover my favorite hobby, hypnosis.

Once we were in the privacy of the storage room, I pulled out the crowned jewel of my collection. It was a long pendant with a single red ruby weighing the chain down. It caught the light in the darkest of rooms, and it quickly soaked in all of Christian's attention.

The guy had no idea what this necklace was capable of. He didn't notice as his breaths drew longer or as his head dipped lower. I doubt he even noticed that I started speaking to him, "You shouldn't be so rude to strangers. I'm going to use you for a while, but when I'm done, you won't be rude to anyone ever again."

"I won't be rude to anyone ever again..." he repeated. His intense stare continued to burn into the ruby.

"That's right, but for now, you're just going to get dressed and be my Santa, got it?"

"Yes, get dressed and be your Santa..."

I smiled and peeled the pendant from his gaze. It took him a moment, but he shook off the hypnosis and straightened himself up.

Christian's brow furrowed in confusion as he stumbled on his words, "I'm sorry about my outburst...uh...I'm going to be your Santa?"

"That's right big guy," I clapped him on the back and shoved an old cardboard box into his arms, "Get changed and meet me out front. Hurry up, there's already a line of excited kids waiting to sit on your lap!"

Christian cringed at the mention of children. He was clearly not a family man, but nevertheless, he unfolded the box and pulled out the old Santa suit. He looked at it with disdain, but got to work taking off his dressy clothes like I'd instructed, shoulders slumped in defeat.

Walking back out into the bustling mall, I searched for some more guys I could recruit. The line to see Santa was getting long, and I didn't want to be the one managing all those snot-nosed kids and their grumpy parents. It didn't take long before I found a pair of arrogant jocks laughing at the little kids. Those two would be perfect as Santa's helpers...

I lured the two of them into the back under the pretense that they would get some free merchandise. Overly-confident athletes like them were almost too gullible. The only thing that finally stopped their dumb snickers was the ruby pendulum. Their smiles faltered as their eyes locked onto the swinging gem.

"You two are going to shut up and be Santa's little helpers, understand," I commanded.

"Yes," they repeated, "We will shut up and be Santa's helpers."

I smiled and dropped the necklace, breaking their trance. The two jocks seemed alarmed as they realized they could no longer joke around with each other. They couldn't do anything other than while out their arms and accept the two sets of costumes I handed to them.

"Put them on, boys," I added, "And remember to keep those big mouths shut. Just keep the kids in line and let Santa do the talking!"

It wasn't long before I finally got Santa and his Elves out on the floor, ready to finally satisfy that long line of waiting families.

Santa might have looked a little different than most kids would have expected, and the elves certainly looked like they hated their lives, but what else can you expect from a mall Santa?

Christian endured each and every child that sat on his lap, mumbling their wishes in his ear. By the end of the day, his legs were sore and his Santa costume was sticky: probably from candy and whatever else was in those kids' fingers.

The two jocks were perfect as elves, waiting quietly behind Santa until they needed to usher a child to and from the big guy. A few of their university mates might have spotted them dressed up as Santa's helpers. I'm pretty sure they laughed hysterically when they saw the two of them, capturing as many photos as they could.

"Alright, today's shift is over!" I announced to them gleefully.

"I'm never doing that again," one of the elves grumbled as he shoved off his costume.

"Actually, you'll be back tomorrow!" I reminded, "You might want to wash your elf clothes, because you'll be here all day again!"

The two jocks pouted and stormed away. The mall was closing down but I was confident the two of them would report back bright and early for another long day of elfwork.

"Crap, I'm late for dinner with my fiance," Christian suddenly stood up in alarm, still wearing his heavy Santa costume.

I pulled the ruby out of my pocket and held it in front of my mall Santa, "Forget about her. You're going to drive me back to my place and be my personal Santa for the night."

With his eyes glued to the red gem, Christian repeated, "I'll forget about her and drive you to your place. Tonight, I'm your personal Santa."

"Good Santa," I patted his head, "And I want you to laugh and talk like Santa would in the movies. That'll really sell the Christmas magic!"

I smiled as Christian woke up from the brief trance. Again, he looked confused but didn't hesitate to grab my hand and lead me to his car. "Ho ho ho!" he bellowed in joyful laughter as he gazed at me, twinkle in his eye.

All I wanted for Christmas was Santa, and for tonight, I could do whatever I wanted with him...

[disneyprincemuke]

you’re embarrassing me * ls2

it's never fun feeling like an outsider, so you'd sworn that nobody would ever feel the way you did all those years ago

pairings: logan sargeant x platonic fem!driver

notes: inthaf logan and femdriver live in my mind rent free like i love them and they are absolute best friends, your honour!!!

i might be at work today but you can’t stop me from thinking of logan hunter sargeant

| "wanna hang out?" | driver's parade | american burgers | american football | the thanksgiving incident | another williams adoptee | beating the heat | you’re embarrassing me | santa baby | the favourite driver | the situationship | it's nice to have a friend |

“happy birthday!” logan smiles, extending his arm to you. “sorry i’m late — i had to get benny to wrap your present.”

you look up from your spot at the other end of the table. you smile, putting your phone down. “oh, i was just about to ask you where you were. thanks for even bothering to get me something!”

you hop up from your position and push yourself through the rows of seats that are strewn lazily. “thank you.”

“of course,” logan smiles, wrapping his arms around you. he presses a kiss to your “happy birthday again. thanks for inviting me to dinner.”

“it wouldn’t be complete with you,” you giggle, pulling away.

it wasn’t until you turned back around to the table that you noticed that your friends were staring at you. alex’s jaw is dropped and george looks absolutely gutted. in the corner, lily and carmen are giggling to themselves while lando had his camera up and pointed at you.

“what?” you ask, scoffing slightly at the camera flash that goes off.

alex’s arm comes out to grab george’s shoulder. “she hugged him.”

you raise an eyebrow. “yeah, so?”

“you never let us hug you,” george says slowly, eyebrows furrowed in frustration at you being oblivious. “you damn near killed me the last time i tried to hug you!”

“yeah?” you hum, grabbing logan’s wrist to drag him along with you. “you sit with me.”

“what?” alex scoffs. “i’m sitting next to you.”

“not anymore. i’ve got a new favourite williams driver,” you beam, shaking his seat to get him off the chair. “and anyway, i already told you logan’s sitting next to me. you’d have bullied him all night if i don’t stop you.”

“and i told you first come first serve!”

“who’s the birthday girl? me or you?” you drop logan’s arm and put your hands on your hips. “who?”

alex starts to act flustered, slumping his shoulder and grabbing his cheeks with a smile. “you’re saying i can be birthday girl today? you serious?”

“ah, piss off!” you groan, shaking his seat again. when the thai doesn’t budge, you look over his head. “lily! alex is being an ass again.”

“alex.”

“yeah, okay. fine,” alex sighs in defeat, pushing himself off the seat. he turns to you. “you get a pass today because it’s your birthday. this won’t happen again, bro.”

logan giggles as he takes the seat previously occupied by his teammate. “what dish did you get? do you have a birthday cake?”

“no, we were waiting for you, silly!” you laugh and pick up the menu from the table and lean into him. “we also just arrived not too long ago. because somebody-“

“hey! it’s not my fault the uber cancelled on us!” george screams from your other side, reaching forward to hit you on the shoulder. “it’s not my fault!”

“it is,” alex sighs, shaking his head. he looks at logan. “this idiot forgot to tell us he booked a taxi — i was fresh out of the damn shower!”

“no, it was her fault!” george fights back, pointing at you.

at that point of the argument, you’d already drowned them out while you looked at the menu for something to order. you simply look up and press your lips together. “are we ordering cake?”

“absolutely! it’s a birthday, duh?” alex scoffs. “anyway, let’s take a picture so you can post it on your instagram about how great friends we were to you.”

you stare at alex. “sure. if you say so.”

you turn as lando gets up to ask someone to take a picture. “wait, your hair is messy,” you grumble, instinctively reaching out to fix logan’s hair. “how benny let you leave looking like this, i’ll never know.”

“what?” you hear logan mutter, pulling his head back slightly. “i did my hair. you don’t like it?”

“what?” you go up an octave as you try to laugh it off, retracting your hands. “no, it looks good.”

“but you said-“

“oh, look! lando’s found someone to take a picture,” you point over at the man holding lando’s camera. you dust off logan’s shirt and straighten it slightly. “look good — i’m announcing to the public that i’ve adopted you as my grid kid.”

“he’s turning 23 this year, you know that, right?”

“shut up, alex.”

[campgender]

from In the Dream House by Carmen Maria Machado (2019)

In Dorothy Allison’s short story “Violence Against Women Begins at Home,” a group of lesbian friends gathers for a drink and they discuss a bit of community gossip: a pair of women recently broke into another woman’s house and trashed it, smashing glass and dishes and destroying her art, which they deemed pornographic. They spray-painted the story’s eponymous phrase on her wall. The friends debate police involvement and intragroup conflict mediation; but toward the end of the story, as they are parting ways, the problem crystallizes into a single, telling exchange:

“Look, do you think maybe we could hold a rent party for Jackie, get her some money to fix her place back up?”

Paula looks impatient and starts gathering up her stuff. “Oh, I don’t think we should do that. Not while they’re still in arbitration. And anyway, we have so many important things we have to raise money for this spring—community things.”

“Jackie’s a part of the community,” I hear myself say.

“Well, of course.” Paula stands up. “We all are.” The look she gives me makes me wonder if she really believes that, but she’s gone before I can say anything else.

Queer folks fail each other too. This seems like an obvious thing to say; it is not, for example, a surprise to nonwhite queers or trans queers that intracommunity loyalty goes only so far, especially when it must confront the hegemony of the state. But even within ostensibly parallel power dynamics, the desire to save face, to present a narrative of uniform morality, can defeat every other interest.

The queer community has long used the rhetoric of gender roles as a way of absolving queer women from responsibility for domestic abuse. Which is not to say that activists and academics didn’t try. When the conversation about queer domestic abuse took hold in the early 1980s, activists gave out fact sheets at conferences and festivals to dispel myths about queer abuse. [see footnote 45] Scholars distributed questionnaires to get a sense of the scope of the problem. [see footnote 46] Fierce debates were waged in the pages of queer periodicals.

But some lesbians tried to restrict the definition of abuse to men’s actions. Butches might abuse their femmes, but only because of their adopted masculinity. Abusers were using “male privilege.” (To borrow lesbian critic Andrea Long Chu’s phrase, they were guilty of “[smuggling patriarchy] into lesbian utopia.”) Some argued that consensual S&M was part of the problem. Women who were women did not abuse their girlfriends; proper lesbians would never do such a thing. [see footnote 47] There was also the narrative that it was, simply, complicated. The burden of the pressure of straight society! Lesbians abuse each other!

Many people argued that the issue needed to be handled within their own communities. Ink was spilled in the service of decentering victims, and abusers often operated with impunity. In an early lesbian domestic abuse trial, a lawyer noted the odd and unsettling detail that most of the time the jury spent behind closed doors was—contrary to what she’d been worried about—the straight jurors attempting to convince the jury’s sole lesbian member of the defendant’s guilt. When she was later questioned, the lesbian juror told the lawyer that she hadn’t “wanted to convict a [queer] sister,” as though the abused girlfriend was not herself a fellow queer woman.

Around and around they went, circling essential truths that no one wanted to look at directly, as if they were the sun: Women could abuse other women. Women have abused other women. And queers needed to take this issue seriously, because no one else would.

footnote 45: Among the myths tackled by the Santa Cruz Women’s Self Defense Teaching Cooperative: “Myth: It’s only emotional/psychological, so that doesn’t count.” “Myth: I can handle it—unlike her last three lovers.” “Myth: Staying together and working it out is most important.” “Myth: We’re in therapy, so it’ll get fixed now.”

footnote 46: Actual questionnaire language by researcher Alice J. McKinzie: “Is your abuser present at this festival? If your abuser is at this festival, is she present while you are filling this out? If your abuser is not present while you are filling this out, is she aware that you are filling out this questionnaire? If you answered NO to the question above … do you plan to tell her later?”

footnote 47: This No True Scotsman fallacy could bend these narratives in every direction conceivable; create a kind of moving goalpost that permitted an endless warping of accountability. In a firsthand account of her abuse in Gay Community News in 1988, a survivor wrote: “I had been around lesbians since I was a teenager, and although some of them had troubled relationships, I was unaware of any battering. I attached myself to the comforting myth that lesbians don’t batter. Much later, when I was ‘out’ enough to go to gay bars in a town that was liberal enough to tolerate them, I saw that some lesbians did indeed batter. However, I thought they were all of a type—drunks, sexist butches or apolitical lesbians—so I decided that feminist lesbians don’t batter.” Activist Ann Russo put it more succinctly in her book Taking Back Our Lives: “I had found it hard to name abuse in lesbian relationships as a political issue with structural roots.”

[cameronspecial]

The More The Merrier

Pairing: Dad!Drew Starkey x Reader

Warnings: N/A

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.8K

Summary: Christmas for Y/N and Drew is a little different for the pair since the kids were born, but that's okay.

Masterlist

Before kids, Drew and Y/N used to be able to sleep in until noon on Christmas Day. They would roll out of bed, have a light late lunch while exchanging gifts in front of the tree and then head to whoever was hosting’s house on his side of the family. Christmas Eve was reserved to celebrate with her side of the family. But since the kids came along, Christmas Day was a whole fiasco. When Millie comes barreling into the room to jump on their bed, her parents have barely gotten three hours of sleep. Between getting the presents from Santa out and taking care of Tristan, sleep didn’t get to find Y/N and Drew. “It’s Christmas! You have to wake up,” she yells, bouncing on the bed like a bouncy ball. Y/N tries to escape her child’s screams and pretends to still be asleep. Drew, a victim of insomnia, accepts the defeat and rights himself to a sitting position. Maybe he can save Y/N from the same fate. “Come on, Sweetie. How about we go eat some breakfast before we open presents? Let Mommy sleep a little more,” he suggests, noticing that it is seven in the morning. However, it doesn’t work because Tristan’s cries have Y/N instinctual getting up. She heads to the nursery, “It’s fine. Go to the living room and I’ll bring Trist.”

Drew and Millie make their way to the living room and a few minutes later, Y/N arrives with Tristan in her arms. “Can we open presents now, please?” Millie begs, scrambling off her father’s lap to the tree. Y/N shakes her head and puts Tristan on the ground beside his sister, “Millie, you know we take pictures before we open the gifts.” The excited girl lets out a huff, settling beside her brother for the picture. The kids suffer through a few pictures before they are finally allowed to open their presents. 

Drew’s eyes are focused on his children until a weight appears on his shoulders. He looks down to see his wife fast asleep on him. He smiles at her and wraps his arm around her shoulder to bring her to his side. This catches Millie’s attention, so she runs over to her parents. “Is Mommy sleeping?” she whispers. Drew nods and holds his finger up to his lip. The answer seems to satisfy his daughter. She runs off to presumably go play with her new toys. Instead, she picks up her new Doc McStuffns blanket and returns to throw it onto her mother. She again leaves and then rushes to her parents to bring back one of the Christmas cookies they decorated last night. “Mommy likes cookies. It will give her energy when she wakes up,” Millie explains to her father. Drew feels as though he just drank a hot chocolate because a warmth stirs in his stomach. They are raising such a thoughtful and smart daughter. 

Feeling the cookie being placed on the blanket, Y/N’s eyes widen to see what it is. She notices the time on her phone and brews up a storm of swear words. They are going to be late to Brooke’s house. She hurries her family to get ready and they head to the family gathering. 

——

The tired couple placed the sleepy children in their own beds before going to their shared bedroom. They meet each other with a soft smile. “You know what we forgot to do this morning?” Y/N mumbles to her husband, leaving the room for a second to get something. She comes back with two gifts in her hands, “We forgot to open our gifts from each other.” Since they got married, Y/N and Drew agreed that they would make each other handmade gifts for Christmas. Birthday gifts can be bought, but Christmas presents have to be made. He gives her a grin, they both get changed and then sit on their bed beside each other. “You go first,” he encourages, placing his gift on her lap. Her hands carefully unwrap the small box to find a pair of dangling earrings. They both have turquoise beads, but one has an M charm and the other has a T one. “These are beautiful, Drew. Thank you,” she praises, pulling him in for a hug. “Here, open yours now.” 

His is a medium-sized rectangle. Like his children, Drew takes no time in ripping the paper open. Underneath, he finds a scrapbook. There are dozens of pictures of his family and him. Each page is occupied by a small blurb about the picture taken. “Sweetheart, this is amazing. Thank you. I can take this with me when I’m away for work,” he informs, kissing her temple. She bobs her head, “That’s the idea.” Silence fills the room for a few seconds before Drew speaks up. 

“Our Christmases are kinda different now with the kids.”

“Yeah. But in a better way. Which is weird to say because we got so little sleep last night.” 

He chuckles with his lips pressed to her cheek, “I agree. I think it’s because the more the merrier.” 

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @nonbullshit-toleratingkindagirl

[umadosedepascal]

O U C H | Pedro Pascal x f!reader | PART VII

Written by Santa Trindade

Banner by @missyorkswhore

Made in Brazil

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x f!reader

Summary: You are at the Golden Globes and meet Pedro over there, he didn’t win unfortunately but still, he is a winner in bed.

wc: 4.1k

rating/warnings: [Smut][Semi public sex] [unprotected PIV][oral sex m/f][Pedro injured] [sex on bathtub] [elevator][Pedro a little dom] [spanking ass] [Hold neck] [Curse words ][nipple play] [making out inside the car][Pedro speaks spanish]

a/n: My fellow followers, we are fast. I know. Pedro does help us imagine these kind of situation EASILY! just because he is HOT, even wearing an arm sling (poor baby). And yes, he is our slut winner always! More to come for the Emmys! 😘 please consider reposting, let’s spread it fucking hard! 🤘🏻

This Sunday was certainly one of the busiest since the year began, you arrived early at the salon to do hair, makeup and nails, it took you a long time to choose the best dress and perfect shoes for the Golden Globes.

Despite being a little cold in Los Angeles, you got a long dress with a naked back and slit in your left leg, perfect shoes, jewelry and hair, you were finally ready for the event.

The traffic of Los Angeles is always chaotic and today it would be no different, otherwise it is worse, there are so many cars, photographers and people. The driver goes near the entrance of the Bervely Hilton hotel, and as soon as you enter you already meet some friends and acquaintances. Your assistant is always pulling you, saying that you have little time as you walked towards the red carpet.

You give some interviews and as soon as you finish your interview with Vanity Fair, you turn around and see Pedro telling a reporter that he is injured because he fell, he hasn't seen you yet.

Pedro goes out in line for the red carpet photos, You are six people behind him, but even from afar you can see how beautiful he looks, black shirt with white details, black pants and equally black boots, you give a giggle when you see that he matched the arm sling with the clothes.

It's your turn to pose for the paparazzi, you position yourself behind the wall, look to your left and see that he is still taking pictures, talking, and even about the countless flashes, you feel his gaze on you.

You smile at the photographers and get close to Pedro, he opens a smile when he sees you, saying your name and extending his hand, pulling you close to him. He immediately puts his hand on your back, feeling your naked skin, his index finger makes small circles on your back while he talks to the man in front of you, you can barely understand what they talk about, it's so much noise and your mind focused only on the feeling of his finger playing with your skin.

Pedro's conversation ends, he pulls you by giving you a kiss on the cheek quickly while saying "See you later" giving a wink, he goes inside with his agent.

Your table is opposite to Pedro's, but you can still see him from where you are. During the awards your eyes meet each other, even from a distance.

He always smiling despite being hurt, he talks excitedly to everyone, with each winner who passes he gets up and greets.

You are so anxious to see him take the stage and receive the prize he deserves.

You already in your third Moet glass, and they finally announce the nominees for best drama actor, when they announce Pedro's name, you can't contain yourself, you get up and cheer for him, as if you were alone in your room in front of him, pleasuring him in the best way, whether about acting or how he fucks you until he leaves you breathless.

Unfortunately he does not win the category, so an idea comes to your mind, you are convinced that you will give him the best night ever.

Even after the defeat, Pedro doesn't stop smiling, you take your phone and send him a message "You are much bigger than any prize dear, let me show you that later?"

It takes a few minutes for him to see message, you look towards his table and giggle when you see him getting in the way holding his phone with only one hand, he puts the phone on his lap and types, a few seconds later his answer arrives, you feel your hands sweaty, a twink in your stomach when reading "I confess that I'm not happy about it, but now I'm very curious about how you will convince me that I'm worthy for you"

You bite your lip as you read and look at him, even a few meters away, you feel that brown sea on his eyes burning you, you just blink and raise your glass in a silent toast.

A few more awards are delivered, speeches are made, and you almost feel bad for not paying so much attention, almost. Your thoughts are in Pedro, hoping that everything ends soon for you to leave, and from what you look towards him, Pedro is not very different from you, his fingers hitting the table, playing with the glass between his fingers.

Finally the last prize is announced and delivered, everyone gets up, celebrating, lamenting. You dodge the invitations to the after party, claiming to have to wake up early for work, you go towards Pedro's table, he is taking some pictures with other people, you stand still finishing your last glass of champagne waiting anxiously to get his attention.

As soon as the last photo is taken, Pedro turns to you, that smile that only he has, stretching out his hand he says excitedly "Shall we go to the after party?" Your smile weakens at the time, you feel a twinge of disappointment, but you try miserably to disguise it, agreeing with your head, he laughs loudly and says "I got you! Come on, let's go to the car, I told you we're leaving" Pedro holds your hand and goes towards the exit, we stop a few times to greet some acquaintances, but Pedro always uses the same excuse -my arm is killing me, I forgot my medicine at home, sorry, next time I will-

Pulling you by the free hand, he always looks at me in the corner, bites his lip trying to hold a smile.

Pedro opens the car door to me and says softly with a shy smile "Can we go to your house tonight?".

You open your eyes and try to remember if everything is tidy and clean at your apartment, after all you remember isn’t that bad. "You got it! I have frozen pizza and beers" he laughs waving his head and raises his eyebrow, you get in the car and Pedro sits next to you, he puts his hand on your thigh and gently smoothes up and down, You look at his face and see him staring at you, eyes so expressive. His hand goes up until he finds the lace of your panties, he releases a cough while looking at the driver who is focused on traffic. You open your legs a little giving him more access to your pussy, you feel his middle finger go up and down pressing your clit, you look at him scared and say softly while you pretend to fix your earring "Are you crazy? El conductor lo verá"

He laughs and points with his head to the button next to you near the window "Press" he says, I press and then a black glass part rises between us and the driver.

Pedro raises his hand to your face, pulling you for a kiss, his lips taste like some strong drink, he sucks your tongue, bites your lower lip and whispers in your ear

"You can't even imagine how much I was waiting to put my hand under this dress." You open your legs, putting one on top of his, giving yourself to whatever he wants.

Pedro plays with the fabric of the dress, until you feel his fingers rub your clit over your panties. You close your eyes feeling him press his finger while his mouth says dirty things in your ear, you let out an involuntary moan, Pedro looks at you and tells you to be quiet, you smile and disguise.

You notice something in his hand that is bandaged, you bend to see and his nails have some kind of sticker, he laughs as you stretch his fingers and read _OUCH_

“What is this Pedro?!” You ask laughing, he answers between laughs "did you like it?"

We both laughed, you say yes, that you loved it, you take your hand out of his and slide on his head, your fingers wrapping in his curls, doing a massage, Pedro moans softly enjoying the massage. You watch his face, eyes closed, mouth slightly open while delighting in the massage, until you stop the movements opens his eyes staring at me. He is no longer smiling, neither you are, the atmosphere has changed, the car seems to heat up, you bring your lips closer to theirs while your other hand squeezes his thigh, going up to his groin, the tip of your nail circling the bulge that begins to harden. Pedro doesn't move, he just accepts your touches, you raise your hand until you find his belt, you open it and pull the zipper down, the only movement he makes with his body and raise his hips to give you access. You slide your hand in and feel his hot cock, you squeeze it and he moans throwing his head back. You raise your hand to the waistband of his boxers and run your index finger through the wet head with pre cum, he lets out a low swear word, when he sees you take his finger on your lips and suck it.

The car stop and you see that you are in front of your place.

Pedro stretches his hand over his thigh, adjusting the pants that shows his cock completely hard, you help him fix his belt and he gets out of the car. He extend his hand to you, you hold it firmly and leave, you take the keychain inside your bag, but it is so difficult to find the right one, because your brain freezes when you feel Pedro so close to your back, his hand playing with your hair, his fingers going up your back to the shoulders where he gently slide his nails, you hum

"This way we won't even get past the elevator Jose" he lets out a low giggle whispering a sorry.

As soon as you enter the hall, you press the elevator button and you feel that it is the twelve longest seconds of your life, the two of you looking closely at the elevator display, the tension is palpable, you look without blinking at the decreasing numbers _19, 18, 17, 16, 15, 14, 13, 12, 11, 10_ you count down mentally and when the ten arrives, you feel Pedro hold your nape tightly, pulling you until you back hits his chest, he runs his nose through your shoulder until he reaches your jaw, where he licks and bites gently

"If that fucking elevator takes five more seconds to open, I swear to God I'll fuck you on that table over there, after all I haven't won my trophy yet" he says that and turns your neck to the side, making you see the little table where the flowers in the hall are.

The elevator warns you that it is on the ground floor scares you, your heart accelerates, you look at Pedro who is still so close to your face and just nod your head towards the elevator door.

As soon as you enter, you press number 24, when the doors close, you ask Pedro to hold your bag, he holds and stares at you, you lean your back against the elevator wall and squat a little and putting your hand under your dress - thank God the side slit helped me - you take off your panties and when tou get up you find his eyes looking at you and looking for cameras in the elevator, you giggle and approach to get your bag while knead your panties in your hand and put them in his front pocket.

Pedro doesn't say anything, the growl that comes out of his throat speaks more than a thousand words.

The elevator warns tou that you are on the right floor, but you still need to look for the key inside the bag.

“Key, right?” He says while you search my bag

_God, I had them in my hand a few minutes ago_

Pedro pushes you against the wall, at the same time he slides his fingers on your lips making you open them, he puts two fingers in your mouth and makes you suck it, he takes out his fingers and holds your chin, making you raise your face more towards him, giving you a quick kiss, he slides his fingers wet with your saliva inside the slit of your dress, his fingers rubbing your clit, sticking two fingers in your pussy.

You let out a low moan and then kiss, your left hand on his chin smoothing his beard while the other still looks for a key inside the bag.

His fingers in and out of you, you suck his lip and move away, interrupting the kiss you raise my hand, shaking the key between your fingers

“Found it!”

He laughs and takes his fingers out of you, and takes it to his lips, sucking. You open the door, Pedro pulls you towards your room, which he is already familiar with, he sits on your bed, takes your panties out of his pocket and extends it to his side and says:

“You did this, can you take off my clothes as well?”

Without thinking, you approach him, you knee down and start with the boots and socks, never breaking eye contact.

You are between his legs and drag your hands until you find his belt, unbuckle and slowly open a button, stop and look at him, as if asking for permission

"Yeah babe, like this" he says with a smile on his face, you open the other button and open the zipper. You hook your fingers into the waistband of his pants and pull his pants so slowly that you can feel the anxiety in the air.

You throw his pants to the side and see how hard he is, you slide your hands over his underwear, his cock is pulsating and hot, kneeling in front of him, you bring your face closer to his cock and run your tongue over his underwear following the entire length, feeling the moisture in the fabric.

Pedro sighs and looks up, murmuring something you don't even understand, you just feel his left hand grabbing your hair, letting out a growl he tells you to get up and sit on his lap. You get up and when you put your hand on the zipper of the dress to take it off, Pedro interrupts me

"Deja el vestido puesto!"

You put one leg on each side of his hip, Pedro moans low when he feels your wet pussy in contact with his thigh, you feel his hand squeezing your nape again, you smile at him while your hands play with the details of the shirt he wears.

"You are so wet babe" without answering you just kiss, your lips touch each other first softly, you feel tickled when the mustache he rubs against your skin, his hand loosens the grip on your hair and slowly goes down your back, the kiss goes wide, you bite his lower lip, pulling between his teeth and licking when releasing,

Pedro never moves his hand away from your body, you feel his thigh press your pussy, you rub yourself feeling the few hairs on his leg in contact with your swollen clit and in need of touch, Pedro lowers his hand to your hip, pulling you down while raising his thigh, you release a moan in his mouth, so what he says is enough for your body to know that he is in complete abstinence "Ride on my thigh... enjoy rubbing against me" Pedro lies on the bed, wearing only his shirt and underwear, you put your hands on his chest and you start rubbing slowly. Pedro doesn't take his eyes off yours, his hand is still on your hip encouraging me to speed up the movements, leading me.

You throw your head back, feeling a heat take over your body, you feel the orgasm rise in your stomach, your clit pulsating, feeling his thigh slide easily in your excitement.

"Come on babe give me, I want to feel you" Pedro begs and squeezes your breast over the dress, you rub harder feeling your orgasm wet his whole thigh "Oh my god Pedro please"

"Yeah babe like that ride me like that" you moan his name, you murmur things that you don't even know what they mean, as soon as you feel your body calm down you open your eyes and there they are, those brown eyes burning me, eqting you alive. You get out of his thigh, dragging you down until you get on your knees on the floor, Pedro runs two fingers on his wet thigh and moans while licking his fingers, as if you were his favorite dessert.

He leans on his left elbow and stares at you you run your nails through his legs, reaching the waistband of his boxers, and before pulling you look him in the eyes and say softly

"Let me demonstrate how important you are my dear"

You slowly pull his undies, his cock jumps hitting his tummy, drops of pre cum flooding his cock head.

You hold his cock by the base and make slow movements from the bottom up, watching the fat drops of pre cum accumulate, wetting your fingers. Without taking your eyes off his eyes you put his cock in your mouth and make circles with the tip of your tongue, cleaning his excitement, you put it in your mouth until you feel the tip of his cock hit your throat, extending your hands and stroke his tummy inside his fancy shirt.

"Help me get this out" you let go of his cock and get up, carefully opening the velcro of his arm sling, you help him take off his shirt throwing it to the side where his clothes turn to a pile. Pedro pulls you making you ride on his lap, you feel his cock hit against your clit, you put your hand between your bodies and holding his cock by the base you fit into your pussy and sit, feeling every inch of it inside you.you both moan loudly, you stand still and help put the arm sling again

"I want you to be safe babe" he laughs and squeezes your ass and moves his hips up entering deeper into you, you push him to lie down and lean over him, gluing your lips to his you bounce on his cock for a while.

"Take off that dress" he says. You get up and pull the side zipper of your dress, Pedro calls you with his fingers and asks you to lie on the bed, he kneels between your legs and stroke your thighs, your belly, circling your nipples.

"I won tonite anyways" he says as he holds his cock by the base and rubs it against your clit.

Pedro slides his cock inside you slowly, taking advantage of every inch, while smoothing the side of your thigh threatening to snap you stretch your hands and scratch his thick thighs.

You feel his nails scratch your thigh and soon the burning of the slap "Come on babe take me all" you push your hips against his, the only sound in the room is your breaths with low moans.

Pedro slides his hand down your neck, squeezing and down until he finds your nipples, he squeezes and rotates between his fingers, making you squeeze his cock with your pussy "fuck Pedro, please I need more" he stop moving, he just keeps looking at me raising an eyebrow while squeezing your nipple between his fingers

"Do you need more? "And giggles

You slide your foot on his tummy pushing him away, you kneel on the bed getting face to face with him, you lick and bite every piece of skin you find, you jerking him off, feeling your fingers get wet with pre cum and your excitement

"On all fours my little bitch" he orders with a slap on your ass, you turn around getting your face pressed against the mattress, you feel Pedro's hand stroke your ass, and then the sound of a slap echoes through the room next to your moan, another slap and you hear him squat, then his lips are in your pussy, his tongue entering you like a cock, he moans against your pussy, making you feel the vibrations of his hoarse voice.

Before getting up you feel his saliva dripping through your pussy, another slap on your ass and you feel his cock hitting your clitoris, rubbing you hard, he moans and curses not being able to have both hands free, Pedro sticks his whole cock into your pussy, taking a loud moan from both of you.

"Fuck Pedro don't fucking stop please" he trust hard, you feel another orgasm forming, his skin hitting against you, his hand passing through your back, scratching your skin.

"Touch your clit, give me one more babe one fucking more" you put your hand in the middle of your legs and it doesn't take many movements to cum on his cock, you feel yourself explode, making you scream the name of Pedro.

"Fuck babe I'm going to fill your pussy" Pedro speed up the movements, his left hand squeezing your hip hard, you feel hot jets of cum flooding your pussy, Pedro moaning your name while slapping your ass a few more times

"Your pussy is milking me you fucking bitch" Pedro throws himself next to you on the bed, breathing with difficulty, he looks at you and laughs and now you realize that he didn't even take off his glasses, the disheveled hair gives an extremely unique look. Him.

"Fuck the awards" he says laughing, panting, you kiss him and say softly

"More awards to come Pedrito, relax" he smiles stretching his hand and slapping you in the ass

"I will win them all! Let's go to the shower"

Pedro stares at you as you undo the velcro of his arm sling “What?" He just smiles saying that out of nowhere, the bathtub is almost full, you enter and feel your feet thank the hot water, you sit down and call him, he approaches and sits behind you, pulling you to have your back glued to his chest, you put your head between his neck and shoulder, stretching your right hand while you play with his hair.

You feel his left hand playing with your nipples, slowly going down yourbelly until you find my clit.

"Hmmm I'm still not happy I need more awards" he says this and puts his leg under yours, making it almost impossible for you to close your legs, the middle and index finger draw circles through your clit, in and out his finger inside you. You tilt your head more looking for his lips, kissing him while you release moans every time you feel him put two fingers inside your pussy.

"I want you to hold my cock with that beautiful hand and put it in that tight little pussy and ride me "

Every word he said was a thrust of his fingers inside you, you turn around and sit on his lap, holding his cock with your right hand, Pedro doesn't wait a second and is already pushing myou down to bury himself inside you. Pedro sucks and bites your nipples, climbs his tongue until he finds your lips, his hand holding your ass tigh, guiding how he wants me to roll.

"Fuck, you're so hot, that pussy squeezes me so hard"

Your moan is loud, your nails scratch his shoulders, your lips meet the skin of his neck where you slide your tongue whispering in his ear how you love to feel his cock all inside you.

Pedro holds the back of your neck making you look into his eyes "Cum on my cock, squeeze me" you grind more feeling your clit rubbing on his lower belly, the orgasm growing inside you, your hands hold his shoulders tightly

"Fuck I'm going to cum"

His hand grabs my neck, squeezing hard as he orders "Now" your moans are weak due to the force he holds your neck, you feel your body tremble

"I'm going to fill your fucking pussy with cum, kiss me please" your kiss is desperate, your moans are loud, Pedro’s hand runs through your body desperate to touch every inch of your skin.

"Fuck, that was much better than any award" he speaks in the midst of laughter you kiss his shoulder and bury your face on his neck

"Always so good... Hmmm pizza and beers?" He laughs loudly and gives you a slow kiss.

"Fuck yeah pizza and beers!"

———————————

Thanks for being here and read our delusional fics, likes are appreciate, comments even more. If you want to ask anything, blast it!

[flagellant]

Have you talked at all about your feelings about Barbie? Cause what little I've seen seems to like up with my feelings on it and it feels weird to be surrounded by unbridled praise or MRAs hating on it because it's Girly™️

At the end of the day Barbie was only ever going to be able to be just a Barbie movie. At the end of the day Mattel paid Margot Robbie and Ryan Gosling more than $10,000,000 to be Stereotypical Barbie and Ken. At the end of the day Mattel's stock price has risen to more than 20 dollars per share, more than double in the past two years. At the end of the day Mattel wanted Greta Gerwig to make them a movie that would make the most people possible want to buy more Barbie-branded things. At the end of the day Mattel would only have released a "new breakup movie" if that press was considered more profitable. At the end of the day, Barbie is a story that wants to sell you Barbie, and therefore it cannot have a message which would distract from selling you Barbie. At the end of the day the Mattel CEO and board go back to the real world having learned no valuable life lessons beyond "Listening to a Mexican woman can make you major profit margins". At the end of the day the mother and her daughter have learned the valuable life lesson that the only way the world will pay any attention to the banality of your suffering is if you can sell it to a lot of young girls. At the end of the day Ken's friend Allen is never allowed to be a Ken (man) and therefore is constantly associated with, but never as, the Barbies (women), and no one seems to question this nor care. At the end of the day, all of the Barbies learn that in order to defeat the patriarchy you must be emotionally manipulative and flirty-but-in-an-evil-way. At the end of the day Barbie tells a story about biological essentialism and battle-of-the-sexes in a bright pink #Empowering way and Margot Robbie cries several times. Kens are told that they are "not 'just' Kens" but also that the reason that they sought out the comfort of patriarchy--the idea that their masculinity and manhood was something to be cherished and respected just as much as a Barbie's femininity is, and that they were not lesser or greater than each other--will not be addressed as anything more than a hilarious Gotcha meta-laugh about how at the end of the day women still don't have rights in any meaningful way no matter how empowered they are under the current system. The conflict built around having no vocabulary to describe the complex and difficult emotions that these dolls have been going through has been resolved by ending the movie before resolving or questioning this. At the end of the day the Kens are villains and jokes, and as the credits roll, we can be safe in knowing that absolutely nothing has changed and all of this will happen again in the exact same ways.

In the movie Barbie, at the end of the day, Ken asks to sleep over at Barbie's Dream House for the night, and she tells him no, because it is Girl's Night, every night, forever. We see the Barbies go to sleep with Stereotypical Barbie saying, "Good night, Barbies! I'm definitely not thinking about death anymore!" This is very funny, and she goes to sleep and then wakes up feeling probably about how I do every morning, which is supposed to be relatable.

At the end of the day, in the movie Barbie, we see Ken walking away from Stereotypical Barbie's deathless and eternal slumber party dejected and alone. He is walking to the exit of the Barbie Dreamhouse Neighborhood. We do not see if he gets to go to sleep in his own house. We, in fact, see quite a lot which implies he is homeless and goes to sleep on the beach, which I was forced to do when I was 18 in Santa Cruz in one of my first attempts to escape a toxic and abusive household. I still remember the way that the sea can rot when trapped by wooden pier foundations, covered in mildew-wet seafoam, old kelp from the high tide, and the way that when I got up the next morning you could see exactly how I'd fallen asleep like an old-school chalk outline of where a corpse was.

At the end of the day, in the movie Barbie, what the Kens wanted revolved around having their own homes that they could go to sleep in and fill with things that made them happy just like how the Barbies did. This is supposed to be a symbol of patriarchy, because they corrupted the femininity of the Dream Houses, and that is bad. When the Barbies win, at the end of the day, the Dream Houses go back to being Dream Houses, and we still have never once seen any sign that the Kens had houses, and the movie assures us that if they don't, then "maybe someday" they might have enough societal power to be able to try and fight for a house that they're allowed to own and have be theirs, something that women in Western society have only quite relatively recently gained the permission and possibility to do, and Barbieland is basically the same as the real world but with the "two" genders switched.

At the end of the day, if I try to actually analyze the Barbie movie as a bioessentialist antifeminist and anti-intersectional regressive film which glorifies the thinnest possible shred of pro-capitalism feminism possible, I'll sound like a fucking lunatic, because it's just a stupid movie about dolls made to sell you Barbies, and of course it would never be anything but bioessentialist pro-capitalist toothless brand bullshit which wants you to think that Margot Robbie and wearing pink are the peaks of antipatriarchal activism. At the end of the day, Celluloid Barbie can only exist because Mattel thinks Celluloid Barbie would make its brand a lot of money, and not because it actually cares about the anti-ageing fatphobic standards of Western womanhood, because Mattel is a brand which can care about nothing except being a machine which you put money into and in exchange pink plastic bullshit comes out.

[radiansjort]

The Minyards’ and Hemmicks’ Names

I don’t think I’ve seen anyone point this out, but it was one of the first things I noticed when I read the books; Andrew, Aaron, and Nicky all have Biblical/Catholic names. It makes sense because Luther and presumably Tilda are Catholic, but their Biblical names also correspond with who they are as characters.

Andrew: In the Bible, he is one of Jesus’ 12 Apostles. He was brother to Simon Peter, who was Jesus’ closest Appstle. The name Andrew itself means “strong” and “warrior,” and in the books Neil narrates how strong he finds Andrew; we can also see him as a warrior when he protects Nicky especially as well as the other Monsters.

Joseph: There are 2 Josephs in the Bible and both fit Andrew’s character. The first is Joseph the father of Jesus on earth. He was seen as the ultimate protector because he protected the Holy Family and followed God’s call to stay with Mary. He protected Jesus from being killed as an infant by taking him and Mary to Egypt shortly after his birth. Obviously, Andrew is very much a protector. He is very protective of all the Monsters and frequently called a “mom friend” in the fandom. The other Joseph, is Joseph son of Jacob (Israel). He was the favorite son of his 12 brothers, and all of the brothers were jealous. Because of this, they leave him in a ditch and sell him as a slave to the Egyptians. As a slave, he works his way up the ranks to become the Pharaoh’s adviser because he can interpret dreams. Eventually during the famine, his brothers and father come to Egypt in hopes of finding food, and Joseph forgives them for selling him off. There is obviously the similarities of complicated brother relationships which is very much Andrew and Aaron, but I say he also relates to this because Joseph reconciles with his brothers, and post canon Andrew and Aaron begin to reconcile and really have a relationship with one another.

Aaron: In the Bible, Aaron is the brother of Moses and a high priest among the Israelites. He helps them along their journey to the Promised Land. One of the most notable things he does is while Moses is on Mt Sinai, he builds a golden calf for the Israelites to worship. When Moses sees this, he gets so angry and upset that he smashes the Ten Commandments and has to climb the mountain to receive them again. I see this as Aaron (Aaron) and Andrew (Moses) and their early relationship. After their deal is made, Aaron doesn’t understand the significance of this and instead goes against what they agreed to (kind of like—> Aaron and Moses were both priests and dedicated to God and Aaron went against that with the idol) and it almost reflects how Aaron beings to go against their deal.

Michael: Michael the Archangel is the warrior and protector of the Church, and he is the one who directly opposes Satan and defeats him. I see it as pretty fitting, because in the end, who is it that kills Drake?

I find the twins names so very fitting because not only do they relate to their characters, every one of them in the Bible had a brother. (If you count the other Archangels as Michael’s “brothers.”)

Unlike the twins, Nicky’s names are not the names of Biblical figures, but instead of Catholic saints.

Nicholas: St. Nicholas was known for his generosity, as he gave his wealth to the poor. And probably what he’s most known for, he gave gifts to the poor at night inside their shoes. (Which brought about the story of Santa Claus). I think this fits Nicky well, as he gave everything he had to the twins. He gave up living a normal teenage life to instead not go to school and instead work 3 jobs to keep him and the twins all afloat. Also more obvious, St. Nicholas is the patron saint of children and known as the protector of them. That very obviously relates to Nicky as he protects and cares for the twins.

Esteban: The English equivalent of Esteban is “Stephan,” and St. Stephan is known as the first martyr. He is actually mentioned in the bible, but doesn’t appear on page. He refused to denounced the Catholic faith, so he was stoned to death. This is similar to Nicky because Nicky again gave up everything for the twins, and he was the first person to really give everything he had for these two.

[more-mara]

oscar is carlos' secret santa

This one was actually really difficult lol and I’m not sure if it’s that great but I’m using it as a writing exercise so it will have to do.

“No, I’m not telling you who I’ve got, that defeats the purpose!” Oscar said as he shoved past Carlos who had made it his absolute mission to find out who everyone got for secret Santa.

So far, he had only managed to get information out of Lando who had told Carlos outright without him even having to ask. Typical.

“Come on Oscar, we can help eachother out,” Carlos said, following in step with Oscar who was refusing to look back at him.

“I take this very seriously Carlos, it’s not fun if everybody knows,” Oscar said, pouting a little which he was thankful couldn’t be seen by Carlos.

Carlos stopped his frantic walking speed by grabbing Oscar by the wrist and pulling him to a halt. Oscar spun around in the grasp to see Carlos’ soft features staring at him.

“If you have me, then my gift should be a kiss,” Carlos said with an amused smirk. Oscar groaned as he went to turn away but before he could, Carlos’ hands were on his waist.

“Now would be a good time to give me my gift, if it is me that you have of course,” Carlos said smugly, putting slight pressure where he held Oscar’s hips.

“I don’t have you,”

“Prove it,”

Oscar could do nothing but throw his arms around Carlos’ neck and draw him in to a kiss. He could feel Carlos’ smirk against his lips and despite the fact that secret Santa wasn’t a game, he somehow felt like he had still lost at it.

“I knew you had me,”

“Fuck off,”

[loveshotzz]

Is It New Years Yet?

steve harrington x fem!reader ✨Part One✨

Santa Tell Me

summary: When you meet Steve Harrington the first time it’s by accident, the second time a coincidence, and by the third he’s calling it fate.

wc: 8.1k

warnings: 18+ series, a christmas meet cute with steve who’s in his 30’s, smut in later chapters, drinking, smoking, eddie munson is our best friend/roommate, him and steve don’t know each other in this AU.

authors note: this wasn’t supposed to be this big or long but here we are. thank you for all your patience and sweet words, I’m so excited to share this with you.

series masterlist -> ✨ part two

The Marshall Fields feels alive with only three weeks left until Christmas, making it a next to impossible mission to get to your job in the restaurant that sits on top of the seven story tourist attraction. At least on time.

Bing Crosby’s ‘It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas’ spills from the speakers overhead, the deep baritone of his voice is barely audible over the low murmur of conversation happening all around you. Lush, large boughs of green pine hang pristine from the historically tall ceilings, shimmering tinsel draped with purpose at the ends of them catching in the light. It reflects off the gold ornaments that cover it in a perfect pattern. It’s almost enough for you to forget how annoyed you are.

Your slip resistant shoes catch and scuffle along the deep crimson carpet as you move through the shoulder to shoulder crowd. It doesn’t take you very long to find a break in it, still scratching at your nose that itches from your walk through the fragrance department. Your small victory is quickly diminished when you see a swarm of families standing in front of the golden doors of the elevators. 

You silently curse yourself for not leaving earlier, completely forgetting that Santa was on the fifth floor today. As if on queue, a little girl with perfect blonde curls that bounce as she runs smacks into your legs just like your realization, falling back on her butt with a thud. Her pearly white dress flutters around her, and the two of you stare each other down for what feels like an eternity until her mother rushes over with panicked apologies right as her daughter breaks out the waterworks. 

The noise makes you grimace, mumbling a ‘it’s fine’ under your breath before turning on your heel. Reaching behind, you pull your phone from your back pocket to see just how late you really are, accepting defeat with having to take the scenic, much more time consuming route up the escalators. The bold white numbers that flash across the screen tell you that you’re already five minutes past the start of your shift. A long sigh slips from between your lips as you give up on trying to rush. 

Moving with the flow of the crowd, the beginning jingle of Mariah Carey’s ‘All I Want For Christmas Is You’ starts to play, and with the grand spectacle of the yearly decorations, it’s hard not to feel all the emotions of nostalgia they’re trying to pull from you, making you roll your eyes singing along with her under your breath.

The big water fountain in the middle of the men’s department comes into view from the tops of bobbing heads, one of the many physical markers in this building you’ve had to use so you don’t get lost in the retail maze they’ve created, letting you know that you’re close to your destination. Weaving through the sea of people, you try to gear up to break free from the human traffic jam, the signs pointing to the escalators in your sights. His panicked voice is what you hear first, an obvious friendliness still hidden underneath it despite the way it shakes every time you hear him say “excuse me?” 

Your eyes search for the owner, and when you find him, regret buries itself deep in your gut when they land on his face.

A perfect mess of dark chestnut hair, with tips that look like they were dipped in honey sits on top of his head. The hints of gold hidden inside shimmer under the lights, as it curls wildly behind his ears. It almost looks styled that way, that is until you see his big hand run through it twice in the span of a few seconds. Warm brown eyes squint as he turns in a full circle glancing between his phone and the signs the point to the city street exits on either side of him. The hoards of people surrounding him completely ignoring his existence as he looks around painfully lost. 

His nose is sharp, just like his jaw that’s dusted with the faint  hint of a five o’clock shadow. The two prominent moles that sit side by side on his cheek stick out on his unseasonably sun kissed skin that seems to glow against the dark maroon color of his sweater. It’s snug across a broad chest, just like the washed out black jeans that fit a light too well around his thighs. His chocolate colored peacoat looks tailored to fit his biceps, with shiny gold buttons that match the buckle on his russet leather loafers, and the chain that dangles from around his neck. 

You watch him try to ask a few friendly faces for help, only receiving a shrug and a half smile by the ones that actually acknowledge him. He mutters something that sounds sarcastic to himself as you get closer, his hands moving animatedly before he huffs pinching the bridge of his nose. 

Maybe it’s the Christmas decorations, or the Mariah Carey, or maybe it’s just the fact that you’d rather take pity on a handsome stranger than go to your job. Whatever reason it is, you decide to make the stupid mistake to help him.

“Hey,” you greet timidly, getting just close enough to smell the cedar and cinnamon that seems to cling to the expensive wool of his coat, ignoring the way your stomach flips because of course he smells good right?  

“Are you lost?” 

He doesn’t hear you over the internal battle going on inside his head, not even registering that someone is finally stopping to offer the help he’d just been pleading for, quietly grumbling, ‘you wanted to move to the city, now you can’t even find your way through a damn store’.

You clear your throat before it can get anymore awkward, alerting him of your presence while letting your curious gaze wander up his tall broad frame. Those squinted brown eyes look big now as they meet yours, and you can see green inside them that you couldn’t before and it sparkles brighter than the tinsel hanging from the boughs behind him. 

Yeah, you’ve made a huge mistake.

He blinks a few times, before a wide smile stretches across his face somehow making him even more handsome as he reveals a set of perfectly straight teeth. The smile pushes up his cheeks, and crinkles the skin around his eyes, and you watch all the aggravation from before melt off of his perfectly sculpted face and you wish you could go back those few minutes in time and abort the mission. This is no damsel in distress.

“Hi” is all that he says, peony’s painting his cheeks as he runs his hand through his thick hair again. It looks even softer up close.

“Hey,” you giggle, nerves taking over and you want to pinch yourself for it. “I just wanted to see if you needed some help, you look a little lost.” 

You try to seem indifferent when you catch the way his gaze roams quickly down your body, thankful you did laundry last night and had on your tight fitting work slacks today that showed off your curves. 

“So lost!” He groans, the blush on his cheeks deepening with the tips of his ears. “If I’m being completely honest with you, I don’t even know what floor I’m on.”

You try to hide the way you snort, slapping your palm over your mouth.

“Hey, be nice!” He laughs, trying his best to fight it to put on a hurt expression, “this is like my first time here, okay?”

“I’m sorry,” you try to fight off you smile, “I didn’t mean to laugh at you —“

“Steve,” interjects with a grin, those perfect teeth biting at his full bottom lip as he sticks out one of his hands for you to take, a gold band wrapped around his middle finger you didn’t notice before gleaming when it hits the light.

“Well, Steve,” you try not to laugh, which ends up being easy to do when you slip your hand into his and watch it disappear behind his long fingers when they wrap around them. “You’re on the first floor if you can believe it.

“That’s fucking embarrassing. Wow.” He groans, letting your hand go to run his palm down his face, and you hate that you feel the loss in your gut. “Sorry I didn’t mean to cuss.”

“I’ll let it slide this time,” You tease with a wink, enjoying the way it only makes the color on his face deepen. “Where are you trying to go? I work on the seventh floor. I might be able to take you on my way.”

It takes Steve a minute to formulate an answer to your offer, still stuck on the fact a complete stranger was being so nice to him, and the silence between you goes on just long enough to make you second guess everything.

“Or I could just try and give you directions if that’s more comfortable for you.” You offer, adjusting the straps of your backpack nervously.

“I’m trying to get to the women’s department,” Steve finally blurts out, sensing the shift in your energy and quickly tries to recover with another card through his hair and a crooked smile, “specifically the handbags, and I absolutely think you should take me.”

His gaze narrows the color in his eyes darkening into something more flirtatious than nervous. 

“Who knows how long it’d take me to get there without a beautiful, clearly smart woman such yourself to help me anyway.”

Your stomach does that thing that you hate again, and all the heat in your body licks at your cheeks like flames. You can’t remember the last time a man actually used the word beautiful. Hot? Absolutely. Cute? Sure. Pretty? Yeah, a few times, but never beautiful. It sits in your chest where it blossoms into another painfully big smile that pushes your cheeks up even more, and you have to look away from his face for a moment when he matches it with his own.

“O- okay, if you just, uh wanna follow me?”  Words get lost on your tongue and it comes out more shy than you would’ve liked, but you turn on your heel before you can think too hard about it when he gestures you forward.

You hear him mutter ‘are you kidding me?’ under his breath as you lead him to the escalators just around the corner, making him realize how close they were this whole time and you wonder just how long he was actually looking for them. The smell of mint hits your nose as you pass the Frango chocolate stand and it mixes with the spice of his cologne as he trails close behind. Butterflies threatening to break from cocoons hearing the way his steps match yours. 

He stops next to you as you come to halt to wait your turn to hop onto the moving metal steps. You look up at him and there’s an awkwardness that threatens to fill the small space between you that has you giving him a tight lipped smile that he returns with the kind of confidence that makes your palms sweat and you have to look away. 

“I say we make our move after white puffer coat comin’ up here.” His voice startles you when it comes out low, close enough to the shell of your ear that you swear you can feel the whisper of his lips. Spearmint stings your nose from the gum that snaps between his teeth, and the heat of his breath makes goosebumps jump along the back of your neck. 

Why did you do this?

You meet his gaze from the corner of your eye, letting him see the playful glint that dances in them before giving a curt nod of your head.

“On the count of three…” You play along, despite everything inside you telling you to stop flirting back and it makes Steve’s whole face light up, long fingers flexing at his side with the need to find yours again.

“One..” He starts, and your eyes meet ‘white puffer coat’ who’s now only a few steps away before finding Steve’s again who’s stare very obviously never left your face.

“Two..” You giggle trying to hide the way your body starts to buzz and if it wasn’t for Steve’s giddy expression you’d be more embarrassed than you actually are.

“Thre-“ His final count gets cut off by the feeling of your fingers wrapping around his, tugging him onto the stairs early with a loud cackle that has you throwing your head back and he swears the sound tilts his world off its axis.

His cheeks dust pink under the bright light looking down his nose at you with a wide smile that shows all his teeth. An expensive loafer sits wedged between your work shoes and the other on the step above, caging you against the side as you ride up to the next floor, and he’s close enough for you to see a smattering of more freckles that dot the bridge of his nose and the side of his neck, even one on the tip of his earlobe.

He’s still holding your hand.

Your fingers twist and flex at the realization, dropping from his hold and Steve clears his throat because of it. Adam’s apple bobbing as you land on the second floor, he shoves his hand in his pocket, standing a more appropriate distance from you as you get on the next set of stairs going up.

“So what’s on the seventh floor?” He asks, finally breaking the silence that crackles with something you aren’t prepared for today.

“Oh, um, The Walnut Room.” you know where the big Christmas tree is?” You answer with a small smile and it makes him snort, the noise making your eyes go big and the corners of your lips twist up more.

“I couldn’t find the escalators, you think I know where the big Christmas tree is? Don’t flatter me so much or I’ll think you’re flirting with me, honey.” Steve grins, the cool air of confidence from before coming back and you hate that it makes your cheeks burn even worse the second time around.

“Well,” you start unable to bring yourself to meet his gaze as the two of you make your way to the next set of escalators with nerves rattling in your chest as the new floor brings more people, and it makes it impossible for him to keep his distance this time, “now you know where it is.” 

“Is that an invitation?” He smirks looking down at you, teeth gleaming even whiter from this close and butterfly wings tickle at your rib cage.

“Getting a new purse for your girlfriend?” You ask in an attempt to dodge his obvious flirting, doing your best to ignore the way his fingers keep bumping into yours as you share the same step.

“Mom, actually. No girlfriend.” Your obvious prying makes something smug flash behind his eyes. “Is that the answer you were hoping for?” 

You huff with a roll of your eyes, unable to fight the way your cheeks push up again despite the shake of your head earning a deep chuckle from Steve who can see right through you.

“I actually just moved here, maybe a month ago,” he starts, your heart sinking a little at his reveal and your walls that had started to slowly retreat quickly go back up the few inches they dared to come down. “M parents, they’re….they’re tough to impress, and I’m just trying to find something nice for my Mom. Something that screams ‘Hey! Merry Christmas! I didn’t make a big mistake moving here!’ You know?”

You nod with the kind of laugh that makes his eyes sparkle at the noise.

“A purse absolutely says that, I think.” Your words drip with sarcasm as the two of you make your way onto the third floor, shoulders bumping as you turn towards the next set of moving stairs, both your feet landing on the same metal step again. 

“You know, I thought so too.” He beams, not missing a beat. “What about you? Got any fun plans with your boyfriend for Christmas?”

Before you have a chance to answer, an impatient woman choosing to walk the escalators in the kind of rush you should really be in knocks into Steve’s back with her shoulder, making him lose his balance and stumble into you. Large hands grab at your waist to steady himself, the warmth of his palms spreading through your body as it seeps through the thin material of your slacks. The steady beating in your heart stutters before your pulse kicks into overdrive when the mint on his breath fans against your neck for the second time as he mutters an apology finding his balance again. You bite at the inside of your cheek when he finally lets you go, straightening up to his full height again.

“Gotta love the holidays.” You laugh, letting out a shaky breath that threatens to give you away.

“It’s the most wonderful time of the year, or that’s what they say.” Steve sighs, running his fingers through his hair again. 

He somehow leaves it even messier than before, and you have to fight the urge to fix it for him, as the top of the fourth floor comes into view along with the end of your time with the man you only half way regret helping now.

“The answer to your question is no, by the way.” You finally speak up, a mischievous glint in your eye that matches your smile.

“No you don’t have any fun plans? Or No you don’t have a boyfriend?” He tries to clarify, with the kind of lopsided grin that has your knees wobbling under it.

You don’t have time to recover when the ground underneath you stops moving as you both hit the bright red carpet of the women’s department. The fast moving crowd and the fact that you’re pushing nearly twenty minutes late for work is the perfect escape you need to get yourself out of making the mistake of staying long enough for the charming new to the city bachelor to ask for your phone number. 

“Handbags are over there.” You point to the giant Michael Kors logo that shines gold against a hot pink wall behind him, and you seize the moment he turns to follow the direction of your finger to hop back onto the escalators without a word.

You laugh echoes and bubbles over the even happier sounds of the Christmas music when Steve turns around to find you already half way up to the fifth floor.

“Really?” He throws his hands up, watching as you climb higher.

“I’m late for work! I hope your mom likes her gift!” You wave with the kind of smile that he’s sure will haunt his dreams tonight, that makes the corners of his lips twitch despite himself. “It definitely screams you didn’t make a mistake! Nice meeting you Steve!”

It had been four days since your run in with Steve, and much to your dismay that disheveled head of hair didn’t want to leave your mind no matter how much you tried. His breath stealing smile, and freckled skin invaded every day dream and even found their way into the ones in your sleep. No matter how many times you tell yourself that a man who looks like that has endless opportunities in a city like this, and he’s not going to tie himself down with a waitress who still splits her rent with a roommate. 

A change of scenery and a day off spent alone at the Christmas market is almost enough to do the trick as you search for ornaments to put on the tree your roommate Eddie tried to stop you from getting, arguing that he’d have to be the one to take care of it if you got a real one. Which to be fair, ended up being true, but when you catch him reading Lord of the Rings under its twinkling lights, you don’t think he minds it all that much.   

A few ornaments, two hot ciders, and a record shop later, you find yourself waiting for the train home looking at the sunset that paints the skyline in sherbet orange and red behind shimmering buildings. Lost in the music that spills from your AirPods, flashing lights catch at the corners of your eye, and the sounds of the holiday train start to get louder as its bright presence rolls up to the platform. The Santa that you know has to be freezing waves at everyone that’s waiting as it pulls in, and you can’t stop the way your cheeks push up despite the annoyance you would have normally felt if you were actually commuting somewhere in a rush.

The workers dressed as elves greet you with baskets of candy cane’s and bright smiles when the doors open, and relief floods your system when you see the train car is mostly empty. You give them a friendly wave and a nod, accepting the sweet treat before claiming your seat for the nine stops you needed to pass to get home. Red and green string lights flash strung up from the ceilings, and the silver metal poles that stick through the middle now resemble the candy they're passing out. The white fluorescent lighting that usually washes everyone out is replaced with a deep blue, and the faint sounds of  Wham’s ‘Last Christmas’ battles for dominance with the music in your headphones.

Relaxing into your seat, you let the steady rocking of the train lull you back into your thoughts, disappointed when they inevitably go back to the man you’ve been trying to forget. Thighs pressing at the memory at the feeling of his hands grabbing at your hips on the escalator, you huff and cross your arms in a silent pout. How can you have a crush on someone you don’t even know? 

The car starts to fill up more and more as the stops go, and by the third one you’re squeezing your tote bag to your chest with people surrounding you as they hold onto the plastic handles above your head. It’s hard to see anything above anyone’s waist, and you shuffle a little awkwardly in your seat. The spot in front of you frees up by the next stop and at the same time your AirPods die, a sigh of relief slips past your lips at the brief reprieve before the group waiting outside scurries in. That’s when you hear him…again.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. First the damn bus, now the train? Jesus fuck- exuse me, god, I’m gonna be so late.”

The familiar smell of cedar and cinnamon envelopes your senses when a pair of black dress slacks fill your vision with a gold belt buckle on his waist that matches the chain you already know is dangling from his neck, and the ring on the hand that’s gripping the handle above you. 

You curse under your breath, taking your AirPods out and the muffled sound of Dean Martin’s ‘Let It Snow’ becomes full volume, along with the clinking of the metal tracks when the train lurches forward. Leaning back in your seat, you let your eyes wander up his broad torso you’ve reluctantly thought so much about. Steve’s a little more dressed up than the last time you saw him with a white button up tucked into his slacks. You can still make out the outline of his tank top underneath, despite the dim lighting, and the way he leaves the top two buttons undone flashes you a little bit of chest hair. The chocolate peacoat is replaced with a black one that has buttons to match. It fits around his arms just as good as the other one. 

His five o’clock shadow is gone now, and he somehow has even more freckles than before. Too distracted by him to scold yourself for having the urge to find and kiss them all, his messy bed head look he had the other day is replaced with something a little more controlled, and you wonder how much product he needed to use, especially that despite it all, a stray still threatens to fall across his forehead. 

“Not a fan of the holiday train are we?” 

Steve jumps at the sound of your voice, his eyes looking every direction but down until you clear your throat. They widen when they land on you just like the smile that spreads across his face, wiping away any signs of annoyance that plagued his features just seconds before.

“You!” He almost laughs, and he’s even more handsome than you remembered and you wonder how long it's going to take you recover this time, “Oh wow —“ even in the blue light you can see the way the color in his cheeks redden when he realizes that his crotch is unintentionally in your face, “let me just -“

He scoots back as far as he can which isn’t much but it’s enough to make the position the two of you find yourselves in less awkward.

“Well, well, well so we meet again.” He practically beams taking in your appearance now that you’re not dressed to go wait tables, catching the way he licks his lips before bringing his eyes back to yours. 

“It would appear so Steve.” Your smirk, proud of yourself for keeping up the act of playing hard to get.

“What do they call these things? Christmas Miracles?” His confident demeanor reappears and you’re disappointed that it sets your body on fire just like before.

Your snort loud enough for him to hear, earning you a deep chuckle from his chest that gets him that smile of yours he can’t stop thinking about.

“You think you’re so smooth don’t you?” You tease, biting at your bottom lip, meeting his eyes from under your lashes watching the way it makes the green and gold inside them turn into something darker.

“Not really, but I think it’s working for you.” He winks, closing the space he made between you to let someone off behind him holding your stare from down the slope of his nose.

You narrow your eyes at him before you roll them but the twitch of your lips gives you away making his grin turn Cheshire.

“Where are you off to this dressed up? Hot date?” You question with an arched brow.

“For someone who’s pretending not to have a crush on me, you’re certainly fixated on if I’m dating someone aren’t you?” Shaking his head, he’s even more smug than he was on the escalators, “but no, beautiful, I’m on my way to meet a business partner for dinner.”

There he goes using that word beautiful again.

“What about you? The missing uniform tells me it must be your day off, spend it with that boyfriend of yours?” Steve smirks trying to get the definitive answer you refused him a few days ago.

“You’re calling me fixated? I’m not the one obsessing over an imaginary boyfriend I made up for someone else.” 

Steve throws his head back in a booming laugh as a bright smile lights up his face in a way that rivals the train. 

“I bet you think you’re so funny don’t you?” He mimics your previous sentiment with an intensity in his gaze that has you squirming in your seat.

“Not really, but I think it’s working for you.” Biting your lip as you wink, his hold around the handle tightens, and the gold in his eyes darken more. “I’m surprised you’re heading out of the loop so dressed up, where’s this hot business date?”

Steve’s smile falters, and the color you’re so used to warming his face drains along with the intensity of his gaze.

“What do you mean out of the loop?” That panic you’d heard shaking his voice a few days ago returns, as he tears his eyes away from you to look at the map above your head. 

“Oh no, Steve.” You realize the mistake he’s made before he does.

“No, no, no, no,” he groans, stomping a shiny wingtip oxford on the dirty ground. “God, Richard, fuck - he’s going to be so pissed at me.”

He says the last part more to himself, regripping his hold on the handle, brows furrowing as he pinches his eyes shut in frustration. His chest heaves a few times, and the veins in his neck start to show before you hear his quiet exhale over the sounds of ‘Jingle Bell Rock’.

“Hey,” You start, and sweetness drips from your tone as you resist the urge to reach out and comfort him, “I’m getting off on the next stop, you can come with me if you want and I’ll help you get on the right train. It’s an easy mistake, really. We’ve all done it.”

He doesn’t open his eyes immediately, and you can tell that he’s trying not to completely break down but slowly they blink back open and meet yours. The teasing edge behind them is gone as they soften around the edges with exhaustion.

“I think I owe you my life at this point, honestly.” He huffs with a weak laugh and you know if his hair wasn’t done his hand would be running through it right now. 

“Just a little bit.” You tease pinching two fingers together with a scrunch of your nose.

“Thank you,” he holds your stare, sincerity painting his features with something that makes you want to stand up and hug him. 

“Anytime,” you shrug and it’s harder to fake being nonchalant when he looks at you like that. 

The train starts to slow down as it approaches your stop, and the people around you become restless as they prepare to push through the crowded car to get off. Your body reacts like muscle memory when it comes to a halt with another lurch, and you stand up without thinking about the little bit of space that separates you and the man you haven’t been able to stop thinking about all week. 

Your chest brushes against a hard set of abs before and even harder set of pecs, the cedar and sandalwood of his cologne is stronger than the last time it took over your senses like this. Fresh. The faint smell of his aftershave tickles your nose, and the heat of his breath warms against the berry chapstick on your lips. The realization of your mistake hits right as you lose your balance, and your body falls flush against his.

“Whoa, honey.” Steve chuckles, one of his big hands grabbing firmly on the soft curve of your hip to hold you in place, and you swear you can taste the spearmint of his gum against your tongue from his proximity.

Your hands reach out on instinct grabbing at his waist, making the muscles underneath flex from your touch and you can just faintly hear his sharp intake of breath because of it.

“I don’t know what I’m doing, I’m so sorry.” You bumble, instantly regretting looking up to meet his gaze. The smirk of his pink full lips has all your blood rushing to your cheeks as you quickly try to untangle yourself from him.

“You’re fine,” he laughs in your ear as you push past him, and it sends a shiver through your bones, especially when you can feel the heat of his body behind you as he follows.

The wind hits your face stepping onto the platform and the chill in the air feels good against your skin. People rush and zoom all around you as they try and make their next connection while you and Steve stand under the sign that flashes the next train times. In a loud roar, the holiday spectacle departs with jingling bells that ring off into the distance along with the whir of the crowd leaving you and Steve alone. You try to ignore the tension that bubbles under his stare against the back of your head, threatening to spill over any second as you pull out your phone.

“You live around here?” He’s the first one to break the silence stepping next to you, his gaze shifting curiously to your phone screen.

“Yeah, like three blocks away.” You answer absently, scrolling through the train lines too distracted by your search for the right directions to give him.

He hums quietly in response, pulling out his own phone from his coat pocket. His energy shifts from the panic on the train to something calmer, and you can’t quite put your finger on it. A nervousness still lingers in his shaky exhale that pushes through his nose, rocking back on his heels before shoving his phone in his pocket.

“What if we went out to dinner instead?” Steve blurts out, and his hand that’s been itching to run through his hair finally does, “I mean if you don’t have any plans right now.”

“Didn’t you say it was a work dinner Steve?” You laugh, finally daring to look up at your phone at him. Big mistake. 

The wind catches his hair, and that long dark honeyed strand falls against his forehead while his teeth gleam at you in a hopeful smile.

“I feel like I kind of already missed it,” he chuckles, “I’m supposed to be there now and if I read those directions on your phone correctly it said what? - 45 minutes to get there?”

You glance down and see the bold numbers that only seem to go up as the minutes pass and rush hour starts to kick in. 

“Besides, I owe you dinner for coming to my rescue twice in one week. I think the universe is really trying to get us to go get drinks if you ask me sweetheart.” 

You laugh a little nervous, rolling your eyes to try and hide how you aren’t immune to his charms but the glint that sparkles in his stare tells you that it’s not working.

“I mean, I guess it’s only fair. I don’t want to mess with fate and all.” You sigh, and it makes his whole face light up, “but if Richard fires you, that’s not my fault.”

“You have my word, if this dinner ruins the entire reason I moved out here. I will not blame you.” He raises his hand in the air like he’s swearing under oath.

“Steve!” You gasp, shoving his arm, and it has him throw his head back in a loud laugh that echoes through the empty platform.

“I’m kidding, that’s not going to happen. I don’t think.” He grins, earning another eye roll from you, but he’s too giddy to care.

You choose the cozy little Ramen spot on the corner called The Furious Spoon that’s only two blocks from the train station. It’s a close enough walk to easily brave the deep chill that follows with the setting sun and casual enough so that this doesn't feel like something you’re telling yourself it’s not. 

A date.

The warmth of the restaurant hits your frozen cheeks, thawing the parts of you that got bitten from the cold. Ainese hangs thick in the air, making your mouth water while the two of you make your way to the empty seats at the end of the long table that lines the side of the restaurant. You pretend not to feel his hand on the small of your back despite it burning a hole through your jacket as you push through the puffy coats that drape over the stools on either side of you.

Shrugging your layers off, both of you follow suit finding a home for them on the wide rectangular seats. Steve tuts at you when you go to pull your seat out waving your hand away.

“Seriously? No.” You half whisper yell, but the corners of your lips twist up and he decides it’s an empty objection pulling your seat out for you with a wave of his hand gesturing you to sit.

“My mom would kill me if I didn’t,” he swears but his smirk tells you not to believe a word he says as he puts both his hands on either side of your stool, spearmint hot on his breath against the shell of your ear. Cedar and clove on the fabrics of his clothes, it feels like he’s everywhere as he gives you two pushes in.

His knee bumps into yours as he takes the seat next to you, and another waft of his cologne hits your nose. Biting your lip, you decide to distract yourself with the menu as you actively try to make sure your leg doesn’t bounce with anxious energy. The restaurant is more crowded than you expected and Steve’s closer than you wanted. Your heart thumps wildly against your rib cage, scaring the butterflies that laid dormant for the few days in his absence right as they had started to stretch their wings. 

“This all looks so good,” he hums, eyes scanning over the menu before bringing his attention back to you, chestnut and gold shimmering in the low light as he looks down the slope of his nose, licking his full lips, “Do you have a favorite?”

You can’t stop your gaze from flicking down to his mouth, words threatening to get caught on the tip of your tongue watching the way the corners curl up into a grin, small dimples pushing into his tan skin when he catches you.

“Depends on what you like protein wise, but my go to is The Mother Clucker.” You manage to get out, trying to clear out the nerves out of your throat.

“Excuse me,” he snorts, “the what?”

Rolling your eyes, you tuck your bottom lip between your teeth as you lean over tapping a red polished nail to the chicken option on the top.

“Do you need glasses Steve?” You giggle watching him squint to read it.

The question makes him look at you out of the corner of his eyes with a narrow stare. 

“I’ve had perfect vision since high school. Thank you very much.” He scoffs holding the menu further away as if to help him focus on the small bold lettering. 

“Sure looks like it, my mistake.” Raising a hand in mock surrender, the gesture makes him knock his knee with yours earning him a giggle.

“Here I am skipping out on an important work dinner to spend my night showing you how grateful I am and you’re just bullying me.” Steve only manages to keep a straight face until you hit him with a soft smack on his shoulder, a full bellied laugh escaping him when whatever retort you’re ready to give gets cut off by your server finally coming to the table.

Steve’s charm flows from him with ease as he speaks to the young guy with a big septum ring and spiked hair. He talks to him like they’ve been lifelong friends when you place your orders and it reminds you how easily he got that same genuine smile from you just a few days ago at work, and again now as you sit next to him for dinner instead of writing him off like you told yourself you would. Your stomach twists in knots when his knee bumps against yours and stays there, the warmth of his body seeping through the fabric of his slacks and your jeans.

“So did you end up finding your Mom a gift that screams ‘I didn’t make a mistake’?” You question resting your cheek in the palm of your hand as you lean on the table with your elbow, you lift your chin up a little at him and it makes him flush.

“Oh yeah,” he laughs nervously, scratching the back of his neck, “I-I didn’t actually, so that's great. I’ll probably just get her a nice set of earrings or something, it won’t matter in the end anyways.”

His eyebrows knit together and for the first time all night he purposely avoids your gaze with a sip of his water. Your eyes follow the movements of his throat as he swallows.

“What do you mean it won’t matter?” You press, curiosity getting the best of you watching his confidence slip.

“My parents aren’t exactly thrilled that I moved out here to help with this start up, instead of taking over their family business back home. It’s a long story, but it was a big argument, well - multiple big arguments when I told them I was leaving.” He sighs, and you can see the dread of their arrival start to hang over his head like storm clouds. “Besides we never really spent Christmas together my whole life anyway, they were always traveling for work, so this whole thing is just -“ He rubs at his temple, “a thing.”

He runs his fingers through his hair without abandon this time.

“Ahhh,” you hum as missing pieces of Steve’s puzzle are revealed and you hate yourself for finding him more attractive because of it. 

“What about you?” He nods his head in your direction, mimicking your stance resting his head in his hand, “What are you doing for Christmas?”

“Well,” you start, more nerves settling deep in your chest as you start to lay some of your cards down, “I don’t go home for the holidays cause I usually have work. But me and my family get along fine, I guess. But my roommate usually goes to visit his uncle so I’ll probably order something really expensive to eat and watch a Christmas movie I don’t hate.” 

You shrug trying to hide that sometimes it does get to you, not having a full house of loud laughter or even someone to spend the day with, but the look in Steve’s eyes makes you feel like he sees you. He gets it.

“Favorite Christmas movie?” He asks without missing a beat.

“Oh, easy, The Grinch.” you snort.

“Fitting for you.” he winks, despite the tips of his ears turning red when your shoe finds his under the table.

“Rude. What about you? huh?” Your lashes flutter as you bite your lip feeling him start to play footsie with you. 

“Jingle All The Way, Arnold’s my guy.” He smiles big at the giggle you give him, and it warms your face just like his hand that slides further down his thigh, dangerously close to yours.

The bubble you find yourselves in pops abruptly when the smell of your soup hits your nose. Two large bowls get set down in front of you, steam pouring off the tops so much it fogs the glass window.

“You would like Arnold,” you manage to whisper yell over your servers arm and it’s Steve’s turn to roll his eyes, ignoring you giving the waiter a pat on the back with a ‘thanks man.’

The rest of your dinner is filled with easy conversion and touches that linger more than they should, just like the secret paths heavy lidded gazes make to each other’s lips that aren’t so secret in the dim lighting with your feet still intertwined. You hate that as you learn more about him, the more you want to know. The questions come with follow up questions as he tells you about the life that he left behind, his best friend Robin who he hasn’t spent more than six hours without for the last five years and how it feels like he’s missing a limb. 

It feels mutual as both of you sit there long after your bowls are empty, snow falling from a now completely dark sky as Steve listens to you tell a story from high school like it’s the most interesting thing he’s ever heard. Just like the stories about you and Eddie before that, or the one about how you lost your I.D on a crazy night out. All of them felt like he was hanging on every word, and having his full attention like this made your stomach flip. The buzzing of your phone is what ends the night when your eyes catch how late it really is.

“Oh my god, is it really almost nine?” You gasp, but Steve seems unfazed, just like the tip of his shoe running up your calf.

“I’m actually surprised they didn’t kick us out,” he smirks, chuckling to himself before straightening his back. Deep crimson filling his cheeks when you both can hear the loud pop.

You’d tease him but you were too busy already missing his touch. God. Dammit.

“I should really get going, I didn’t realize we’ve been here for like three hours. I gotta be at work super early for this breakfast with Santa we’re doing,”  You huff, standing up and the change in energy is almost enough to make Steve’s head spin.

“You live like a block away, I think you’ll get home fairly quickly.” He looks at you confused as he stands up, watching you stuff your arms in your coat with a struggle with tangled sleeves.

“I just, I promised Eddie I’d be home at a certain time and he gets all worried when I’m not,” It’s a lie but you aren’t going to tell him that your panic is from the fear that spending this much time with him has now pushed you past the point of no return. 

He’s never going to leave your mind now.

“Let me walk you,” He insists, slipping on his coat with ease, broad shoulders filling it perfectly.

“I think you should worry about getting yourself home,” you tease, buttoning your coat that you won the fight with.

“Yeah, I can’t chance it, not without my good luck charm,” he winks and your knees wobble, “I’m calling an Uber. Can’t get lost that way.” 

“Let’s hope so,” you smirk, bumping shoulders with him despite yourself as you walk past.

“Hey! I thought we were friends now.” He whines following close behind, both of you giving a small wave to your server on the way out.

The cold air hits you the moment the swinging glass door opens, sending a shiver up your spine, tugging your coat closer, you silently curse the hint of cedar you catch on the fabric.

“Are we friends now?” You arch a brown turning on your heel to face him as you both hit the sidewalk.

“I was hoping,” he gives you that smile, the kind that you know always gets him what he wants, and god do you want to give it to him. But the gold shimmering on his belt and the reminder that he just moved here makes you stubborn and weary. “Maybe if you give me your number, we can do this again sometime and find out?”

“How about this,” you suck at the inside of your cheek loudly, and you almost feel bad when you see how his face drops, “If we run into each other again, you can have my number.”

Steve stares at you for a second, disbelief painting over all of his pretty features, but he’s quick to recover with a hand through his hair and a new poker face.

“Deal.” He sticks his hand out and now it’s you who has to take a minute to recover, “What? I accept.”

You narrow your eyes at him before you place your palm into his, that charming smile outshining the white snow that falls onto his long lashes. He purposely holds it longer than he should, the butterflies in your stomach coming to life when the warm pad of his thumb starts to rub small circles into your soft skin. 

“Till the next time beautiful, who knows, maybe I won’t take an Uber home. Take a gamble. I wonder who could possibly show up to rescue me.” He starts, earning another shoulder slap and a gasped ‘Steve!’

“Do not do that, Uber home you maniac.” You pull your hand away no matter how much you don’t want to, especially when he trails the tips of his fingers down your palm as he lets go.

“You win this time,” He grins pulling out his phone, and you watch him click the app before you start to walk towards the direction of home.

“I win every time, Steve.” You wink, taking a mental picture of the way it makes him bite his lip before you turn away hoping you didn’t just make some huge mistake.

Secretly hoping Steve Harrington gets lost again.

[wordsarelife]

DAY 23: WHAT CHRISTMAS MEANS TO ME

-> part 2 of it's beginning to look a lot like christmas

pairing: platonic!slytherin group x fem!reader

summary: when you don't turn up for breakfast one morning, your friends go on a scavenger hunt to find you

warnings: mentions of illness, a bit of angst, but happy ending

the slytherin boys and pansy were sitting in their usual seats at the slytherin table, eating their breakfast

"where is y/n?" draco asked pansy, while he folded the paper to put it down

"probable hanging mistletoes around the school" mattheo joked

"she's still in the dorm. she didn't want to come down with me" pansy shook her head

"she didn't want to?" theo asked "is something wrong?"

"she's probably planning another of those christmas surprises" blaise laughed "first the picture and next we have to handwrite the cards too"

"is she alright?" enzo slapped blaise on the arm "it's unlikely for her to skip breakfast"

"she didn't talk much" pansy shrugged "i asked her if she wanted to come down and she just shook her head and turned back around"

"she's still in bed?" draco asked baffled "yeah, this absolutely doesn't seem likely, don't you think?"

"hmm" mattheo nodded "if you put it like this"

“okay, now, what do we do? do we go to the dorm?” enzo asked shrugging

“do i look like a girl to you?” draco deadpanned

“no..?” enzo looked confused

“then how am i supposed to ‘go to the dorm’?”

“huh”

“why don’t you ask her what’s going on?” theo looked at pansy “maybe you can get her to come downstairs, we can wait there for you”

before pansy got a chance to answer, blaise chimed in “you mean.. right before class?”

“we’ll just cut breakfast short and go now” mattheo suggested

“do we have to?” blaise didn’t receive an answer, just angry looks from his friends “okay, okay” he raised his hands in defeat “we go now”

the group got up from their seats and walked back to the slytherin common room. the boys sat down while pansy walked up to your shared dorm, to get you downstairs

“y/n?” she asked, as she didn’t see you in bed like she had initially expected. she looked around the room, you were nowhere to be found. just like the christmas decor you had put up.

pansy walked into the room, opened the closet and wondered where you could’ve went. and why you took the christmas decorations with you. you loved christmas and you never took down the decorations until it was atleast february.

the boys looked up as pansy came back down. “she isn’t in our room”

“what?” blaise almost screeched.

“how more clearly can she put it?” theo asked sarcastically.

“so we came here for nothing?” blaise shook his head frustrated.

his friends ignored him. “where could she have gone?” mattheo asked. no one knew an answer. they sat down frustrated.

"she took the decor away too" pansy said suddenly and all the boys looked up in surprise.

"what?" blaise asked

"how more clearly can she-"

blaise interrupted theo. "no, like genuinely what?" even blaise seemed to be worried now "was she held at gunpoint, being forced to take it down and then got kidnapped?"

"doesn't seem likely" draco shook his head

"no" mattheo interfered "he's onto something. you know y/n! she's basically santa clause if he was a cute girl"

"i think she loves christmas more than she loves all of us" enzo nodded.

"seriously, what happened to our y/n?" pansy let her face sink into her hands.

"are you searching for y/n?" a voice behind the couch made them perk up. it was one of the second years y/n was tutoring.

"tell us what you know, little boy" blaise encouraged

the boy send him a weird look and turned his head to look at pansy instead, someone who seemed a lot more sane and he knew to be y/n's best friend. "she told me she couldn't make it to our tutor session today and then she said she was going to the library"

the walk to the library was one of the fastest things the slytherins had ever done, desperate to quickly find you.

after they had stumbled into the room, they had been immediately thrown out by madam pince, who didn’t want any disturbance before ten o’clock atleast

“okay” theo said to the woman “do you at least know if y/n is here?”

“y/n?” madam pince repeated and no one of your friends was surprised that you were on first name basis with the libertarian. “yes, she was here, about thirty minutes ago. she brought back a book and helped me put a few away”

“did she tell you where she was going?” pansy asked the woman, who seemed a lot friendlier since you had been mentioned.

“yes, she wanted to get some fresh air, she said”

“so she’s outside?” draco concluded.

madam pince just shrugged, before she had that look on her face again, that told all of them that the conversation was over.

before they had started to walk away, she did say something else. something uncharacteristically nice, which made your friends worry even more. “i hope you find her”

the slytherin group stepped out into the cold winter air, their breath visible in the early morning frost. they followed faint traces of your presence—disheveled footprints in the snow, and a few abandoned christmas decorations.

"she was definitely here," mattheo observed, picking up a fallen ornament. "but where did she go?"

blaise pointed to a few scattered snowflakes that floated gently in the breeze. "magic residue. she's been using some spells."

draco frowned, scanning the landscape. "we need to think like y/n. where would she go for some solitude and fresh air?"

pansy suddenly gasped. "the abandoned classrooms near the dungeons! she used to go there all the time to study in peace."

the group nodded in agreement, a renewed sense of purpose guiding their steps. as they approached the secluded classrooms, faint strains of a soft melody reached their ears.

"is that... christmas music?" enzo asked, surprised.

they cautiously entered the room, and there you were, surrounded by the christmas decorations you had taken with you. a small enchanted music box played a comforting tune, and you turned around, a mix of surprise and relief in your eyes.

"hey, guys," you greeted, a weak smile playing on your lips.

"what's going on, y/n?" draco asked, concern etched on his face.

you took a deep breath. "i'm sorry for worrying you all. i found out this morning that my grandma was unwell, and I needed a moment to process it. but she's better now."

relief washed over the group, and mattheo stepped forward, offering a comforting hug. "we were so worried about you."

pansy smiled. "we thought you were kidnapped or something."

You chuckled, wiping away a stray tear. "no, just needed some time to clear my head."

blaise, always the joker, conjured a small bouquet of flowers. "for grandma chrissie" he smiled "please let her know i'm thinking of her and wishing for her to get well soon"

you accepted them with gratitude, smiling about the fact that blaise was still an absolute fan of your grandma.

"how about some cheering up?" draco suggested

the group gathered the scattered decorations, and together you all returned to the slytherin common room. the atmosphere shifted from worry to warmth as the group cooperated to deck the common room with festive trimmings.

in the glow of the enchanted candles and the laughter of friends, the christmas spirit returned. the slytherins rallied around you, playing games and sharing stories late into the night. and that night you were reminded that no matter what, you could always rely on your friends.

taglist: @twistedhistory @bakingintheshire @mqstermindswift @taygrls @athenalikethegoddess @helpimhopelesslyinlove @prettyb1tchsblog @anonnreader777 @unluckyy @novelizt @ahead-fullofdreams @claradelage

[e-dubbc11]

Hi, Ericca! 😘 I was looking your prompt lists, and was thinking how about: "your scream is kind of cute I’m sorry." With Billy from the spooky prompts list?

Love ya girl, I know it takes a lot of energy to write, so take your time.

🍁📚🐈‍⬛🔮🦉👻

My dear Katherine,

Thank you for being such a good friend to me, for sending this in and for participating in my follower celebration. I love you to pieces and I hope you like what I did here 💜 Thank you again my friend!

There’s still time to join the celebration. I’ll leave the link HERE

Scream

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Billy Russo x F! Reader

Warnings: A few swear words, small jump scare but mostly fluffy bunnies and unicorns. And alluding to smexy time.

Word Count: 1.5K-ish

Summary: You and Billy are looking for very specific costumes to wear to a Halloween party

As always, thank you for reading!  I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

“We don’t have a yard, sweet girl. Where are we gonna put that?” Asked Billy, pointing at the giant 12-foot skeleton. “And I can justify a LOT of purchases, but I can’t justify that and only keep it out for Halloween.”

Pleading with him, you said, “But it doesn’t have to be JUST for Halloween! We can put strings of lights on him for Christmas time and a Santa hat, bunny ears for Easter, ooh an Uncle Sam hat for 4th of July! It will fit inside the penthouse, pleeeeeeease!”

You knew he wasn’t buying it but he really loved to watch you beg.

“We’re supposed to be looking for costumes, baby.” Said Billy.

Defeated, you hung your head and replied, “Okaaaaaay. Can I look around on this side for a few more minutes and I’ll meet you on the other side where the costumes are? Pleeeeeease?”

Looking up into his onyx colored eyes, you playfully batted your eyelashes at him. Billy’s lips curled into a slight smile and he slowly shook his head. You knew he would do anything for you and if you wanted to stay there all day, he would do it and he’d do it happily.

If it put a smile on your face, then it was all worth it to him.

Playfully, he rolled his eyes and said, “Alright, beautiful. Come find me when you’re done, ok?”

Biting back a smile, you said “Thank you, handsome. I won’t take too long.”

Billy placed his hand on the small of your back, guided you closer to him and softly touched his lips to yours. He tasted like raw sugar and black coffee as the bristles of his beard tickled your chin.

The woody fragrance of his cologne rushed past your nose as you caught the top notes of lavender, bergamot, cardamom, and violet leaf. His scent was addictive, you couldn’t get enough and almost made you not want to walk away from him.

“You better not. I’ll come find you if you’re gone too long.” Joked Billy with a wink.

He kissed you on the forehead and you watched him walk over to the other side of the store. For the Halloween party, you were doing a couple’s costume. Billy’s costume was easy enough; he was going to be Joe DiMaggio but you were going as Marilyn Monroe and needed to find the perfect white dress and wig.

The two of you had already been to three stores looking for the perfect dress but none of them had one so you just needed a little bit of a break before starting to look again.

This shop had everything from table cloths, dishes, unique candy bowls, to gorgeous centerpieces and candelabras. Halloween style wreaths and lawn decorations were at the front of the store. This place had everything you could possibly want to decorate the house for Halloween.

Billy did have a point about the larger decorations. No one in Manhattan had a lawn or a balcony big enough to put some of these. The penthouse did have nice high ceilings and the 12-foot skeleton would definitely fit inside but he had to say “no” sometimes.

Meticulously, you combed over what seemed like every decoration they had in the shop and after looking at your watch, you realized that you had been looking around for 30 minutes and wouldn’t be surprised if Billy left. You told him you would only be gone for a few minutes.

Rushing over to the other side, you found the store owner.

“Excuse me, sir. Have you seen my boyfriend by any chance? He’s tall, handsome with dark brown hair and brown eyes?” You asked.

He smiled and asked you, “Is your name, y/n?”

You nodded.

“He’s around somewhere, Miss. But he did leave this for you to try on. He mentioned the two of you were going to a party dressed as Marilyn and Joe DiMaggio.” He said.

It looked exactly like the one she wore in The Seven Year Itch. An ivory halter style, plunging neckline cocktail dress with a softly pleated skirt; a small neat bow was tied on the side at the waist and reached to about mid-calf; it was perfect. You delicately ran your fingers over the smooth fabric as a slight smile stretched across your lips.

Billy found the dress you wanted.

“It’s beautiful.” You said.

The owner replied, “I knew I had one. It’s pretty much an exact replica. Go try it on and I’ll see if I can find him for ya.”

You thanked him, picked up the dress off of the counter and headed for the fitting room. After pulling up the zipper and fastening the buttons behind your neck, you stood in front of the mirror for a few minutes, twirling and looking at yourself from different angles just in complete awe of how gorgeous the dress was; you felt confident and beautiful in it.

The owner called out to you again.

“Miss, there is a 3-way mirror out here if you’d like to get a better look.” He said.

Making one small adjustment before exiting the dressing room, you slid the curtain to one side and came face to face with a figure in the Ghostface mask and black robe from the movie Scream and scream you did which probably could have been heard by everyone walking by outside.

A muffled laugh could be heard from behind the mask. You knew that laugh. “It’s just me, baby. It’s just me!” Said Billy, trying to stop himself from laughing as he took off the mask.

You playfully slapped him on the shoulder.

“BILLY!! You scared the shit outta me!!” You yelled.

The smile he had on his face stretched from ear to ear.

“I can see that, sweet girl. I told you I’d come find you if you were gone too long.” Said Billy.

As you tried to catch your breath, you felt like your heart was in your throat and it was also beating rapidly. You could feel your chest expand and contract in conjunction with your shallow breathing.

“YOU are not funny, Billy Russo!” You yelled, turned on your heels and walked back into the fitting room to take the dress off, closing the curtain in his face.

Billy stood outside the fitting room as you changed, apologizing profusely but you ignored him and after you changed back into your clothes, you continued to ignore him.

Silently, he took the dress from your arms and paid for it along with the baseball uniform costume he found. All he needed now was a DiMaggio jersey.

“Did he make you a part of his little prank?” You asked the owner, trying to bite back your smile.

He nodded. You could tell he felt a little bad; you did let out a scream loud enough to wake the dead.

“Well…thank you for the dress. It’s perfect.” You said softly.

You knew it was just a joke but that didn’t make it any less humiliating and on the way home, you gave Billy the silent treatment.

“You gonna give me the silent treatment all the way home, baby?” Asked Billy, stealing glances at you as he drove. “Come on, my love. I said I was sorry.”

With a scowl on your face, you continued to look out at the city patrons quickly whirring by on the busy New York City sidewalks.

The elevator ride up to the penthouse was quiet. Billy didn’t like it when you were mad at him but you weren’t exactly mad, you were mostly embarrassed and to get scared all the way down to your soul like that was mortifying more than anything, especially in front of strangers.

“Thank you for my dress, Billy.” You suddenly said after a long period of silence.

Billy tossed the garment bags with the costumes in it onto a chair and replied with a warm smile, “You’re welcome, sweet girl. Ya done bein’ mad at me?”

“I wasn’t…THAT mad at you.” You said, shyly.

“Your fiery glare suggests otherwise, my love.” Said Billy, pulling you in close by the waist.

Hesitantly, you snaked your arms around his neck as your nails gently scratched the back of his head.

“I’m sorry, handsome. You really got me good and I guess I was just embarrassed.” You said, averting his gaze.

You could feel him smiling down at you.

“Look at me, sweet girl.” He purred. “I just think your scream is kind of cute, I’m sorry.” He shrugged.

The corners of your mouth slowly curled into a smile.

“You are so full of shit, Billy. I’m already in love with you so you don’t have to make up bullshit like ‘your scream is kind of cute’ to get me to fall for you, ya know.” You said with a chuckle.

His lips were suddenly on yours, crushing them and his kisses were all tongue and teeth as you felt a tremor of pleasure in between your thighs. Billy nipped at the soft skin of your neck, making the hair on the back of your neck stand on end.

He whispered against your mouth, “I love you too, baby. And I really do think your scream is cute.” Biting down on his lower lip, his gaze raked over you as he asked, “So do you think I could make you scream in a…different way?”

As you clenched your thighs together, you drew in a sharp breath, kissed him again and replied, “I thought you’d never ask.”

Tag List: @wheresthesunshinesblog @idaoftheburningmind @rafaelakelley @fakehappy27 @snowkestrel @music-indie-tv @kayhi808 @munsonownsmyass @gijos @fictional-hooman @nutmeg17 @k-marzolf @vaguekayla @rosaleenablack @danzer8705 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @aoi-targaryen @rachlovesactors @qu1etwolf

Others that might enjoy: @itwasthereaminuteago @fluffyprettykitty @jvanilly @ittybxttykxttytxtty @imagine-a-fictional-boyfriend @mrsbillyrusso @colereads

If you’d like to be added (or removed from) my tag list(s) for the ever so handsome Billy Russo, just let me know and thank you again for reading! 💕💕💕 If I tagged you but you didn’t want to be, just let me know and I’ll never do it again.