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cuteandhughesy · 2 days ago
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I’ll Be Home For Christmas | Nico Hischier
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summary: nico hischier acting as your fake boyfriend to try and get your family off your back this holiday season seems like the perfect solution - or so you thought.
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warnings: SFW! fake dating | friends to lovers | suggestive themes and dialogue | kissing | jealousy | angst | fluff | mentions of anxiety |
a/n: based off this request! is this a plot i’ve seen before? absolutely! do i eat it up every time? ABSOLUTELY! hope you guys enjoy my third fic of my christmas special—I cant believe it’s almost christmas 🎄 this was originally supposed to go up on Christmas eve, but i finished it early 😘
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"I think the only way to solve this is if I jump off the highest mountain in jersey."
bree pauses her stirring hand, glancing at you sternly over her shoulder. "don't jump off anything, y/n/n."
you let out another unsatisfied grunt, a disgruntled noise that has come out your mouth many times since you arrived at your best friend's apartment - and you've only been here an hour.
the sound of the wooden spoon scraping along the metal soup pot starts up again, bree continuing to mix her homemade chicken vegetable soup she coerced you over with.
you watch the blonde with a pout on your slightly chapped lips - but it matches the rest of your appearance, so you're not even bothered that they are dry. resting your chin in the palm of your hand, you can't help but zone out and drown in your own dreadful bubble.
you've been feeling overwhelmed and stressed since last night. it started as you'd just finished eating your sad excuse of a frozen meal dinner, beginning to queue up the next episode of stranger things - when your evening was interrupted with your mom’s call.
"mom? is anything okay?" you answer quickly, brows pulled together in a curious manner.
you can hear her gentle laughter through the grainy line. "don't sound so scared to speak to me, honey. everything is fine."
you sigh. "just wasn't expecting a late night call is all....what's up?"
"well," she singsongs, and you can practically hear her wide smile through the phone. "you remember my friend susan, right? from work?" you hum once, so your mom continues. "well she has a son named scott, and he's around your age."
"why are you telling me this?"
she tuts her tongue like it should be obvious. "they are staying at same same skii cabin resort as us this christmas! and you're still single so I want you to meet each other - get to know one another."
that has you sitting up in a hurry, she's blown wide as you take in your moms words. "mom, no i'm not going to entertain this."
"why not? he's nice and cute-" your moms familiar voice fades into the background, as you can't focus on anything but the swirl of panicked thoughts in your head.
you've been single for three years - three years since your last boyfriend cheated on you with his macdonald's co-worker. honestly his first red flag should've been working at macdonald's at his big age of 28 - you should've broke up with him right then and there.
since then, your mom has been wanting you to get back out there, and 'give her grand babies' - you try to not shutter just thinking about it. she's been trying to get you to meet a million different young men, changing between her friends kids and even random baristas she meets at her local starbucks. and honestly you're just tired of it.
you won't find the love of your life through your mom - and it seems that only you can see the logic behind that.
you'd been looking forward to the few days away from the city for christmas, especially with your boss really coming down on you about upcoming new year business proposals that were honestly out of your job description. now your extended weekend that was supposed to relaxing and festive was tainted by your mom and this mysterious scott dude.
you come back to, your mom still lengthly explaining the christmas plans and scott and everything else in between. you huff anxiously, and before your brain can stop the word vomit that is festering on your tongue, you interrupt her.
"i'm bringing someone to christmas."
the blabbering in your ear comes to a quick stop, your mom going completely silent on the line.  "who?"
you swallow, "my boyfriend."
the conversation went on for a bit longer, and you had blabbed about your fake boyfriend without giving away any type of physical details- heck you even avoided giving him a name. when your mom had asked, you told her that you didn't want to give anything away - the element of surprise much more enjoyable.
you cringe thinking back on it, closing your eyes tightly. you are so screwed.
the front door opens quickly, alerting you and bree to her boyfriends arrival. it's only a few seconds following the thud of his hockey bag hitting the hardwood floor that dougie saunters into the kitchen, hair still damp from his post-practice shower.
he looks up from his phone, finding you sitting with a frown at his kitchen island. "what's up with you?"
this time it's bree who groans out. she takes the spoon out of the soup and sets in on the countertop, spinning on her heels to look at you and her boyfriend properly—without straining her neck. "don't get her started."
you squawk. "bree! you're supposed to be consoling me."
she pouts at you, "I know - i'm sorry." bree swiftly moves towards you, wrapping her small arms over your shoulders sweetly. she smells like broth and caramel perfume, which is an oddly comforting scent. "I just don't like seeing you so stressed."
dougie peeks in the soup pot, humming softly at the sight of the various vegetables swimming among perfectly shredded meat. he turns back to you both, leaning back against the counter as he stares you down. "so are you going to tell me? or do I have to wait for you to leave, which inevitably will have bree spilling her guts."
"dougie!" your best friend screeches, eyeing her boyfriend wildly.
you all but whine, letting your eyes fall closed in pure embarrassment. "I'm screwed." you manage to mumble, one eye peeking open to look over at dougie.
he looks rather amused at your dramatics, and you kind of want to get swallowed up and never be let go. "why?"
you take a deep breath. "because....because I told my mom that I had a boyfriend and was bringing him to christmas."
dougie snorts and bree sends him a warning glare. immediately he stops, playing off the laugh with a small cough. "you don't have a boyfriend."
you eye him irritatedly. "you think I don't know that?" bree, like the most amazing and supportive friend she is, begins gently rubbing your shoulder, grounding you. you take another shaky breath, your earlier pout returning. "I just...my mom was all pushy and wanted me to meet her co-workers son and I just panicked."
bree gently pipes up. "you didn't give him a name or talk about his appearance, y/n/n - it gives you some freedom in trying to find someone. maybe you should re-download hinge and make it known in your bio that you're needing a christmas date."
you pull a face, the thought of scrolling through medacore men who don't meet your ethical standards and are most likely teetering on borderline homophobic doesn't sound appealing - like, at all. "i'm going to pretend I can't go - i'll just tell my mom something came up."
"hold on," dougie steps forward, resting his palms on the island. he looks between you and bree, his brows pulled together as he gathers his thoughts. "you didn't give your mom a name?"
you hum. "or any physical attributes."
a ghost of a smile tugs at his lips, and he looks rather pleased with what we thought he's conjured up in his mind. "hear me out here...what If you take nico?"
you blink once. and then you blink again.
behind you, bree gasps. "that's a good idea!"
you shake your head, clearly confused. "he's not going home for christmas?"
dougie shakes his head. "no, the schedule didn't work in his favour, and his parents can't come out for a four day break. he was telling me today he was just going to be alone at his apartment....but maybe he could go with you."
it's....its actually not a bad idea. you like nico, he's always been so kind and sweet anytime you two have been together - which, granted, was quite often. surprisingly enough, nico and dougie were really good friends, and anytime you, bree and him wanted to go out, dougie would have nico join along. it's been like that for a few years, and the dynamic between you and nico was easy.
but...."no, I can't put him through that. you know how my mom is, and she's going to be all over him! and my sister and her husband, and god I can't have my niece getting attached....I just can't."
"you can." dougie hums, pulling out his phone from his sweatpant pocket. "you're just making excuses - nico won't care if your family asks questions. he's a team player who will easily help you with all your problems." he's busy swiping on his phone, barley glancing at you as he talks. "plus, it's not like he'll be out of your life after this - I already know he will be your fake boyfriend as long as you need him to be."
"dougie, no." you sigh.
"yes."
"no."
"too late," dougie hums, "i'm face timing him right now."
you left watching in horror, dougie coming around to your and bree's side of the kitchen island. you squawk, "absolutely no - dougie don't." 
he's setting his phone up against the vase of flowers in the middle of the counter, displaying all three of you on the ringing face time screen. dougie looks at you, and grimaces. "try and look pretty. you look like a mess - c'mon."
bree smacks his arm. "dougie!"
you're not even going to disagree with him, because you do look like a mess. your hair is slicked back with your own oil - too lazy to get into the shower before coming over. your face is bare and you're in the middle of your period, with lingering hormonal pimples littering along your chin and jawbone. all that combined with your anxious eye bags, dry skin and ice cream stained pyjama shirt - well let's just say you've looked better.
your eyes widen as the sound of the call changes, indicating that nico is picking up the phone. "seriously I don't - heyyy nico." your hushed and panicked whisper towards your best friend's boyfriend quickly changes as nico hischier’s face takes over dougie’s phone screen.
"....hey?" he looks confused, and rightfully so. you're sure the last thing he expected with a call from his assistant captain was to be met with not only him, but his sheepish looking girlfriend and her hot mess best friend as well. his eyes move between the three of you, brows pulled tightly. "you guys okay?"
his accent sounds thicker through the phone, voice deeper....it's kind of comforting and as soon as your brain registers that calm feeling, it lets you spew. you begin telling nico all about your situation, but it seems that dougie and bree has the same idea, and all nico can hear is a jumbled sentence.
"y/n needs your help." dougie says, the words barley reaching nico's ears over bree's - "and she's just really stressed." that combined with your pouty lips as you tell him, "and his name is scott - like what kind of name is scott?"
you all come to a stop, eyeing nico through the phone screen. he adjusts the angle of his phone, giving you a glimpse of his location, which seems to be on his couch. "you're going to have to say that again, y/n. couldn't hear you over dougie's loud mouth."
so you tell nico everything - just you this time - starting with getting the phone call, your mom trying to set you up, your fake boyfriend lie and dougie's reason for the facetime. the entire time nico listens, not even interrupting you once as he digests the spoonfuls of information.
you sigh gently, "and dougie shouldn't of called you, nico. I really don't want to ruin your christmas by dragging you into my mess and-"
"i'll help you out." this time, nico does interrupt you, his soothing voice agreeing to the whole fake boyfriend story you'd thrown at him, cutting off the end of your lengthy ramble.
"really? why?"
he shrugs through the screen, a gentle smile beginning to pull on his face. "i'm not doing anything else. you're my friend, y/n, I want to help you out."
the relief that floods through you is ethereal, and you can already feel some of the stress leave your body. "nico, thank you...thank you, oh my god, okay I'll text you the details."
he grins. "looking forward to it."
the phone call ends just as the soup starts to bubble loudly on the stove, which has bree cursing, skipping back towards her food and turning down the burner. as she returns to stirring the mixture, she shrieks happily, glancing back at you. "no hinge needed!"
"you're welcome." dougie chimes playfully, pocketing his phone before he moves to grab three bowls from the cupboard, ready to serve some of bree’s delicious chicken vegetable soup.
although you're feeling stress free about the actual boyfriend part of finding a fake boyfriend— thanks to the devils captain— there is still the matter of having to prep nico for your family, as well as playing pretend with one another in hopes of convincing your family that you and nico are in love.
....and the stress is back, prickling under your skin in a way that has you jittery. you can only just pray nico doesn't get overwhelmed and ditch you on the side of the road on the way up to the lodge, leaving you to fend for yourself while he speeds back to the city.
bree slides the hot bowl full of soup in your direction, plopping the gold spoon into the liquid before she leaves. you thank her gently, and as you dig in into the meaty broth, you begin to create somewhat of a plan for you and your fake boyfriend.
DAY 1
you text nico after leaving bree and dougie's apartment once you had settled back at your place, assuming your usual lounging position on the living room couch. you send him the main details of your family christmas getaway like the name of the resort and it's location, as well as when you'll be leaving and how long you'll be staying.
thankfully, the devils schedule almost perfectly aligned with your families getaway, meaning that nico would be able to spend the entire holiday season with you and your family—he just has those leave early on the 25th for the boxing day game—which you can't yet decide if you're relieved about or stressed about.
regardless, three days after your impromptu facetime call on dougie's phone, you and nico are packed up in his car, backseat full luggage and various wrapped presents— all ready to head up to the ski lodge.
it’s been 5 minutes since nico pulled out of your driveway, and you still haven't said anything other than your initial greeting. the pressure of the day ahead is knawing away at you, turning your stomach into a wave pool of nerves.
the christmas music flows quietly through the speakers, providing a comforting hum in the background. nico keeps switching his gaze from the road to the side of your face, analyzing your anxious eyes as you zone out, nibbling the skin around your thumb nail.
he sighs gently and with a free hand turns the already quiet music completely off. the lack of the original taylor swift christmas song in your ears snaps you out of your daydreaming, looking over at nico with a tight pull to your eyebrows.
"why does your face look like that?"
you frown, "like what?"
"like you've just shoved your nose full of expired smelling salts," nico smirks at his own joke, glancing over at you once again. "seriously what's going on that head?"
you take a deep breath, your mouth opening and closing like a tiny fish—unsure what you want to admit. you don't want to seem ungrateful for nico‘s help by complaining, and you don't want to look stupid and embarrass yourself for being so nervous about spending christmas with your family. after a moment, you let out a quiet sigh, glancing over at nico.
his flickering gaze is soft—comforting—and it has you faltering, head falling back against the head rest with a thud. "I can't lie." nico huffs a laugh, and you almost scoff at the sound. "i'm serious - I can't lie."
"technically, you're not lying."
you eyes widen comically, looking over at him wildly. "what part of this trip isn't based on a lie."
he sighs gently, fingers flicking on the cars turn signal as he approaches the highway lane. nico has always been so nonchalant in your presence, the complete opposite of you at any give moment, and honestly you're envious of that. he glances at you quickly, pulling onto the highway. "I mean, it's not like we are strangers—we're friends."
you don't say anything, too busy trying to understand what he actually means by that. nico smirks easily at you, "so we only have to pretend that we kiss and well....fuck."
you blush. "nico!"
“it’s true.” amused, he looks at you. "and, well, you can't turn ted anytime makes a suggestive comment.”
groaning, you pull your knees to your chest, creating a spot for you to hide your burning face, tucking your head between your kneecaps. "can't help it." you say, but all nico can hear is your muffled voice making no sense as you talk into your legs.
"it's okay." he reassures you lightly. "so, what's your family like? what do I need to know?" he changes the flow of topic easily, which successfully has you pulling your head up.
"well." you start, voice a pitch higher than normal—contemplating what to say. “my mom she's very.....out there. she's not shy, and her social awareness isn't very high, meaning she doesn't care about strangers or what they think of her." your eyes flicker away from the busy highway infront of you, looking over at nico to gauge his reaction.
he hums, "what else?"
you sigh, eyes finding the road once again. "she also loves me...too much I think. and she always wants what's best for me — even if she thinks that's scott."
"she sounds fun." nico's words take you by surprise, because fun usually isn't the first word that comes to mind after describing your dear mother. you quickly turn your head, but much to your surprise, nico isn't joking. he's being sincere—smiling softly. "honestly she sounds like my mom."
the mention of nico's family has you feeling a bit hallow, and you remember the only reason he's able to help you out is because he couldn't fly out to be with his family. you tuck your bottom lip between your teeth, nibbling the skin until it feels sore. "i'm sorry about your family, nico. I really wish it would've worked out for christmas."
he shrugs once, glancing back over at you. "it's not your fault. besides, i'm here with you, right? so my christmas is coming together." you deflate slightly, nico's sweet and almost vulnerable words leaving you feeling rather soft. "so who else will be there? besides your mom and this scott guy?"
you huff a laugh, "well I don't know how much of scott we will be seeing now that i'm bringing you, but I do know that my older sister, tammy and her husband brody will be there. along with my niece, taylor - hence the disney princess wrapping paper." you thumb over your shoulder where there are multiple oddly shaped presents, all wrapped in disney paper.
nico snickers, sending you a teasing look. "thought you were just wrapping your own gifts."
"nico!" you laugh sweetly, "you’re ridiculous."
he smiles. "okay, okay. how old is your niece?"
"she just turned 6, back in november." you hum, leaning over slightly to turn the radio back up—only at volume 2—letting the familiar jingles add to the ambiance of the snowy jersey weather.
one of nico's brows raise. "so you've got a birthday twin?"
"wha-how do you know my birthday is in november?" you're clearly baffled, looking at nico like he just told you he met your long lost twin.
he glances at you wildly. "I don't have a brick for a brain! c'mon y/n/n, just because dougie is a stupid hockey player doesn't mean I am."
a dig at your best friends boyfriend never fails to make you chuckle, and you wrap your arms around yourself tighter, keeping yourself warm. although nico was joking around, you still aren't sure how he knew the month you were born in—how he remembered when your birthday was. it's just not something you thought nico would take note of. you don't do big parties for yourself, and you don't even post to social media—bree being one of the only people to celebrate you online.
your laughter dies down gently. "i'm just suprised that you'd remember."
his lips tug downwards in the beginning of a frown. "why would I forget?" nico's eyes flicker to yours once again, holding your gaze with a soft and warm expression. you take in a shaky breath, unable to find yourself wanting to look away from nico. his words, although nothing that deep, feel like the bottom of a warm lake, heating your chest with his question. it's a bare minimum that you've yet to experience with any boyfriend, real or fake.
he clears his throat quickly, eyes flickering away from your face and back through the snowflake covered windshield. "okay, what are our rules here? I don't want you to be uncomfortable with any of this fake dating stuff."
"oh. right, ummmm-" you blink, trying to recover from the abrupt shift in conversation and shift in your heart. "well to start, any question that my family asks about us and how we met, just tell them the truth. no need to fabricate some elaborate story—especially considering i've brought you up before...god my mom is going to die when she sees you." you mumble the last part to yourself, already picturing your moms face when you tell her the nico you're dating is also your friend nico.
he doesn't hear the end of your scentence, and only nods understandably, switching lanes. "got it."
you continue, "and this relationship between us is a new thing-- i'm talking’s within the last two months new. if they ask we say that we were just testing the waters of our relationship. and that gives me an excuse of why I hadn't told my mom about us before tuesday."
"that's good" nico hums appreciatively, clearly impressed with the little plan you'd made for you both. "plus it will make us look less insane when we are all over other and acting lovey dovey. that it’s just the honey moon phase."
your belly swoops, and your eyes widen in a slight panic. "why would we be all over each other?"
nico looks almost dumbfounded at your rushed question, his brows practically touching the edge of the hockey branded beanie sitting across his forehead. "because we are supposed to be dating."
you feel a little stupid in that moment, and when the end of nico's reminder is accompanied by a teasing smile you begin to feel very embarrassed. you try not to face palm, clearing your throat. "right, duh! that makes sense then." nico nods in amusement, which really has you wanting to face palm.
wanting to get back to the earlier discussion of rules, you hum in continuation. "I think cuddling and stuff is fine, right? like we can cuddle on the couch and hold hands in town."
"if you're comfortable with that." nico says, shooting you a glance, taking in your face to try and dissect your expression—trying to find an answer on your face before you say anything.
you laugh once, and even that sounds weird—no wonder nico keeps looking at you. "why wouldn't I be?"
"you're turning red just talking about it."
you face falls. "i'm going to throw myself out of this car."
"no, no." nico chuckles. "any other rules you want to lay down?" his eyes twinkle with playfulness as he shoots you another glance. "like what about kissing?"
obviously you blush because what. you don't let yourself react in the way your body desperately wants to, instead you keep your posture the same, humming in thought. "we don't need to kiss unless absolutely necessary."
once again, your eyes fall back to the driver's side, looking at nico as you wait for his response. you watch him smirk softly, eyes still on the busy roadways as he answers. "sure."
the rest of the car ride is filled with easy conversation and multiple impromptu karaoke sessions— nico laughing anytime you turn the music up and claim that it's impossible to not sing along to a justin bieber christmas song. the easiness of the whole dynamic between you and nico has you feeling much more at ease than you'd been when he first picked you up, and the idea of bringing nico to meet your family is becoming increasingly less stressful.
that is until your mom open the door, squealing in excitement at the sight of you and nico parking in the un-shovelled driveway of the rented ski cabin—waving at you both—your stress levels start to rise back up.
you swallow nervously, the sound of the car engine shutting off setting in your ears - there's no escape now.
"hey," nico mumbles, gathering your attention. he gently reaches towards you and gives your shoulder a reassuring and grounding squeeze. "don't worry too bad. it'll be okay."
all you can muster is a nod, watching through the front windshield as you sister peeks over your moms shoulder, her perfectly styled hair blowing in the wind.
"wanna get the bags now?"
"no," you finally speak, shaking your head. "save them for later just incase we need an escape route."
he chuckles. "okay dramatic - let's go."
with another encouraging nod from the devils captain, you unbuckle your seatbelt, getting out the car along with nico. at the sight of your face, your mom screams, waving at you like a crazy woman from the porch—the woman didn't even put on a coat before coming outside, leaving the door wide open behind her. "y/n, honey! you're here!"
"i'm here." you make your way up the pathway, nico's hand providing a ghostly pressure on your lower back as he trails behind you. "merry christmas momma."
she scoops you into a tight hug, kissing the side of your head repeatedly until it feels like all her lipgloss has transferred to your hairline. "merry christmas! and oh, honey don't be rude—introduce us to this handsome man." over your shoulder, your mom catches sight of nico and his ridiculously charming smile.
he looks so relaxed and happy that you're jealous. you're also jealous that nico manages to look that good after spending 2 hours in a car—but that's not important.
you quickly wrap your arm around nico's torso, bringing yourself into his warm side. nico easily follows suit, wrapping his hoodie covered arm around your shoulders, giving you another comforting squeeze. you smile—extra big—at your mom, rubbing your free hand over nico's covered stomach. "right of course, this is nico. my boyfriend."
recognition flashes across her face, eyes darting between you and your fake boyfriend—who you are currently cuddling with on the cold porch in front of your mom, an action that is very out of the ordinary for you. you can only pray she doesn't think too hard about everything. suddenly, she gasps. "nico?! like your friend nico?"
you scrunch your nose through a faux smile, "that's the one!"
she laughs, "is that why you were so secretive over the phone? so it would be a suprise?"
"yes." you say through gritted teeth, arm tightening around nico's muscular torso, grounding yourself through your white lies.
your mom beams again, hands clutched to her chest as she admires you both - granted your shivering and your toes are borderline frozen.
"it's nice to finally meet you, ms. y/l/n. i've heard so much about you." nico says easily, his accent perfectly complimenting his relaxed tone and demeanour. he removes his arm from your shoulders, and you fight the urge to pout from the lack of warmth, watching as nico puts his hand out for your mom.
she dismisses the formality, moving towards him with her arms wide open. "oh, honey, please call me ella - and i've heard so much about you, I can't believe you're finally here."
your eyes close in embarrassment, face flushing a deep pink as your mom embraces nico.
"mom, let them come in! it's freezing." your sisters honey laced voiced calls out from inside the house, and you can see her making her way back towards the front door, taylor on her hip as she easily saunters over.
your niece happily shouts as she catches sight of you, begging to be put down. tammy obliges, but tells her to wait until you get inside, not wanting a coat and shoeless toddler to walk onto the wintertime porch. behind her, your brother-in-law joins you, smiling and waving at you through the open door before pressing a kiss to your sisters head.
"yes, of course." you mom smiles, turning on her heels and walking through the door. "c'mon in you two, before you turn into ice."
too late—you think.
right before you and nico can pass the threshold into the log cabin, you mom puts her hand out, stopping you with a playful smile ghosting her face. you sister looks borderline fed up, closing her eyes at your moms actions, and brody just looks excited.
confused, you quirk a brow. "what's happening right now? you all look very weird."
you mom points up, "honey, you're under the mistletoe!" you smile falters, your eyes slowly moving up until you catch sight of the array of green mistletoe leaves dangling above you and nico. "it means you have to kiss - house and mistletoe rules."
nico laughs awkwardly beside you, warm eyes also on the festive plant.
"mom, no." you follow suit, chuckling through your discomfort as you set your sights back on your mom.
her brows pull together, a frown overtaking her face. "what, why not? just a little smooch?"
"they just got here, mom. at least let them take off their boots before you make them get to business." you sister—ever the saving grace—tries to move on from the discussion, sending you a wide eyed look behind your moms back.
you nod in thanks, "yeah. don't you think that's a little inappropriate?"
"why would that be inappropriate?" she gawks. "nico doesn't mind, do you?"
"I mean-"
"i'm your child, and you just met him." you interrupt whatever people-pleasing answer nico was about to spew, looking at your mom with an expression mixed up of amusement and bewilderment.
"c'mon, y/n," brody chimes in playfully. "it's not like we are asking you to suck his-" tammy smacks her husbands chest, a warning for him to not finish that scentence. "ouch, babe!"
"little ears." your sister reminds, gesturing to your six year old niece, who is still bouncing on her heels, desperate for you to get inside so she can steal you away. "don't egg her on." tammy is talking about your mom, who is still clueless on why making you kiss your supposed boyfriend when they just meet him is a bit weird.
the whole situation is stressful and overwhelming, and you kind of just want to turn around and make a run for the car. as if nico can sense your anxiety, his grip around you—now with his arm around your waist—tightens ever so slightly, reminding you that you're okay.
you swallow nervously. "let's not make nico-"
you're interrupted by the firm press of nico's lips on your cold cheek, kissing your face gently. the action seems to momentarily silence your family, but soon you can hear your mom cheer happily, mumbling something about how she 'should've taken a picture to send to your aunt shirley'
but you’re too distracted to register anything other than the lingering kiss against your cheek, and there's no doubt that your flesh is warming right under nico's lips. he pulls away, an easy smile taking over his face—like he's not even affected.
brody snickers, "see, y/n? wasn't so hard."
it seems that everyone is satisfied after that, your mom too busy texting on her phone to stop either of you from coming inside—thank god because you're pretty sure the inside temperature has dropped 10 degrees from the door being open.
as soon as you shut the door, taylor comes skipping over, her gapped tooth smile wide as she looks up at you. surprisingly, she doesn't attack you with hugs, but instead stops in front of nico. she looks up at him curiously, her hands resting on her tiny hips. "who are you?"
her bluntness has you laughing, even more so as you take in nico's amused expression, looking down at your niece softly. he bends down to meet her level, placing his hand out infront of her. "I'm nico, i'm your aunties boyfriend. what's your name?"
he already knows her name, but the formality of it all has you melting slightly, watching the interaction with an amused look. her tiny fingers splay over his palm, doing her best at shaking nico's large hand. "i'm taylor. you’re my auntie y/n's boyfriend?" her bright eyes flicker between you and nico curiously.
"I am."
she hums. "but you're too pretty for her."
you gasp, hiding your laughter. joining nico in his crouched position, you drag your giggling niece into your chest, lightly tickling her torso. "excuse you missy!"
"I don't know, taylor. I think your auntie is actually too pretty for me."
"yeah." she shrugs lightly, finally breaking free of your tickling. taylor shuffles back towards nico, "do you want to see my stuffies?"
"you have stuffies?" nico beams, "of course I want to see them." it's instantly that taylor grabs nicos fingers, leading him through the log cabin and presumably towards whichever room she's loaded off her stuffed animals in. you can hear taylor's excited babbling all the way down the hall, accompanied by nico’s enthusiastic responses as they disappear out of sight.
"honey can you go make sure she doesn't bore him to death. I can picture the tea party now." your sister sighs, looking at her husband expectantly.
"yeah," brody then looks at you, a teasing glimmer in his expression that you have grown to recognize. already, you're rolling your eyes. "I can't believe you're fucking an nhl captain y/n. good for you."
"go!" tammy hides her laugh behind her hand, but you can still hear her amusement through the muffled sound. brody waggles his eyebrows in your direction, further teasing you as he leaves.
thankfully your mom had slipped into the kitchen in the time you and nico had been talking with your niece—saving you from facing her after your brother-in-laws ludicrous comment. you can hear brody mutter something along the lines of 'course i'll go talk to the professional athlete, fuck kinda question is that?' — but you can't be so sure.
tammy grabs onto your arms, guiding you into the large, high ceiling living room. from what you've seen of the ski lodge so far, you're very impressed. it's got that rustic christmas feel that reminds you of your childhood, with grand windows and entry ways that overlook the winter scenery. with only a 5 minute drive to the hills, the resort was practically perfect.
you let your sister plop you onto the worn leather couch, the plaid throws scrunching behind your back as they slip around. tammy immediately sits down beside you—close enough that you're touching knees—facing you with wide eyes. "what the hell."
you make a face. "what?"
she scoffs a gentle laugh, eyes darting all over your warm face. "how long have you been crushing on nico?"
"what-what do you mean?" you blush timidly. you're unsure why the question has you feeling nervous—feeling caught—because nico is just a friend. a ridiculously generous friend who immediately agreed to spend christmas with your family to help you out, and is currently playing with your niece just because she wanted him to....its fine, really.
"well you've told me and mom that he was just a friend—you've been saying that for years and now you're dating? what's that about."
"oh, right." you really need to get a hang of the whole fake boyfriend thing, because the amount of times just today you've already forgotten is just criminal, and you're practically begging to get called out. you huff a gentle laugh, tucking your loose hair behind your ear shyly. "I don't know something just....changed."
"clearly." tammy laughs brightly. "how long have you been together?"
you swallow nervously, thinking back to the discussion with nico in the car about this very question. "only a few months. we kept it secret just in case...you know—bree and dougie are the only ones who knew."
tammy nods understandably, but a disgruntled expression quickly forms on her perfectly blushed face. "i'm kind of offended you told dougie before me."
"if it makes you feel any better, dougie was the one who set us up - so I didn't technically tell him anything." the twisted truth comes easily, and you give yourself a mental pat on the back for that one.
"fine. I feel a little better." tammy smiles, shifting her body so that she's tucked against your side, loungewear covered legs bent towards her chest as she relaxes into you. her blonde hair tickles your neck as she tilts her head up towards you, eyeing you with a playful undertone. "he's cute."
"hey! hit on your own man." you try and push her off of you gently, but tammy doesn't allow it, wrapping her arms around you tighter as she laughs.
"i'm just stating the obvious, y/n/n." her nickname for you has you feeling warm and fuzzy, settling back into your cuddly position. you and tammy have always been close, even with your 6 year age gap. you've always done everything together, and told one another all your secrets—so you feel guilty for not telling her about nico, even though it's not real.
"you really like him?" tammy's question is a gentle and sweet whisper, looking up at you like she just knows.
you nod, probably too fast and too enthusiastically—but thankfully tammy isn't paying attention to that, only listening to your words and watching the way your eyes change into a more relaxed and emotional state. "of course," you breathe, smiling. "I mean...he's always been really sweet and kind. always making sure I feel comfortable in a crowded room, checking in on me when he hasn't seen me in a couple days. and well, just today he's made me the most relaxed i've felt in a long time...." you trail off, clearing your throat gently. "sorry, god i'm blabbering."
tammy shakes her head softly, gently grabbing a hold of your hand. "it's okay. it's sweet."
"auntie y/n! look at nico!" the tiny and shrill voice of taylor interrupts the rather tender moment, but thankfully it allows you take take a calming breathe and let your heart rate turn back to normal. your niece skips down the hall, dragging nico behind her as they round into the living room.
the sight of nico has you stifling laughter. "oh...wow."
nico smirks, hands held out as if he was showing himself off. the princess aurora tiara nestled in his brown hair catches the setting sun, sparkling in the dimming light. that combined with the bright pink lipstick smeared around his mouth and the lime green tutu that is 5 sizes too small for a professional athlete around his hips is just too much. "handsome right?"
you hum, nodding sarcastically as he gives you and tammy a spin—showing off taylor's work. "oh yeah."
when nico faces you again, he winks—so quickly you're not even sure if it happened. it has your face warming once again, your sister nudging her pointed elbow into your side as she wordlessly teases you.
what have you gotten yourself into?
after a very amusing hour of dress up—which of course you got dragged into—you all had dinner, thanks to your mom and her random bursts of energy that allow her to cook up roast dinners every other day.
dinner went surprisingly well, and nico seemed to fit into the family dynamic nicely. it was a weight lifted off your chest as you watched him easily discuss sports with your brother in-law and excitingly answer all of your moms borderline intrusive questions. it's full of laughter and honestly you're surprised at how well everything seemingly is going—it's a relief you didn't think you'd get to experience this christmas.
after a long travel day for you and nico, you both decide to retire to bed early, leaving your sister and your mom in the living room— your mother shouting out a general explanation of which bedroom is yours as you go.
you're not sure what you were thinking, but the sight of the large bed in the middle of the room has you feeling nervous, stomach swooping at the thought of having to share a bed with nico. you suppose you believed that some part of your mom still pictured you in highschool with a boyfriend and would make you and nico sleep in separate rooms or beds.
clearly not.
the bed looks absolutely heavenly though, with lots of fluffy pillows and a nice duvet with complimenting throw blankets draped over the corner—you can't wait to sink in and pass out.
nico, who had gone and got your luggage right after dinner, drags both of your suitcases towards the dresser, the gentle click of the handle sliding back into place echoing throughout the room. he turns back to you, "I can sleep on the floor if you're uncomfortable."
your eyes snap away from the luscious bedding and over to nico—he must’ve seen your blank stare. you shake your head quickly, "no - no, we are adults. i'm not going to make you sleep on the floor."
you can practically see the relief on his face and in that moment you're completely convinced that nico would've set up camp on the rug if you asked him to.
you continue, ignoring the weird flutter in your stomach. "plus my mom will probably burst in here every morning to wake us up and I don't want to make up some lie about why my boyfriend is sleeping on the floor instead of in the bed."
"of course." he chuckles, the quiet sound settling through the warmly lit bedroom comfortably. "what side do you want?"
you snicker, waving your hand as if you're trying to appear nonchalant. "oh, i'm not picky."
nico eyes you, one brows raised in question as if he can see right through your attempt at coming across easy-going—you've never even been close to that. "are you lying?"
your shoulders deflate. "yes."
he laughs again, watching as you make your way over to the left side of the bed, tossing your phone in front of the pillows as if you were marking your territory. "it's furthest from the door." you hum like it's obvious, looking at nico with timid eyes.
"sure." he hums softly, eyes lingering one yours for a moment longer before turning away.
nico has his back turned to you, digging through his carry-on in search of his toiletry bag. you watch the way his muscles move, his compression shirt giving you the perfect view of the ripples and hard work he's put into his body. you've never really noticed how in shape nico is—I mean sure you've like noticed he's got muscles because he's a professional hockey player...but you've never appreciated them like you are right now.
"y/n?"
you blink. "huh?"
nico smirks, and you instantly realize he's caught you checking him out. you blush wildly, trying your best not to collapse into an awkward puddle. "I asked if you want to use the bathroom first."
you clear your throat, "no go ahead."
he gives you another knowing smirk before disappearing into the on suite bathroom (which, holy, how nice is this place), travel toiletry bag and a new pair of sweatpants tucked under his arm. as soon as the door clicks shut, you let out a deep breath—one you hadn't realized you'd been harbouring.
thankfully you hadn't worn makeup today, knowing that you’d be travelling—the feeling of being stuck with makeup on your face during the couple hour drive here sounded like a living nightmare. so while nico is busy in the bathroom you quickly change into your christmas red striped pyjamas, shoving your dirty clothes back in your suitcase before nico can see.
the door opens again just as you locate your toothbrush, revealing nico is his team branded sweatpants and...oh he's not wearing a shirt. you swallow heavily, eyes quickly flicking over the expanse of his muscular torso. "bathrooms free." he says, easily moving towards the bed.
you nod. "yeah, thanks."
right before you can shut the door, he calls your name, stopping you in your rather frantic pursuit into the bathroom—which is lingering with the scent of nico's cologne. he smiles at you playfully. "i'll keep the bed warm."
that's it - you're going to drown yourself in the toilet.
DAY 2
you managed to not drown yourself last night—shockingly enough. after nico's fluttering eyes and stomach swooping tease last night, you'd made some stupid joke, one that you can't even remember—you're pretty sure you blacked out. you shut the bathroom door quickly, taking as many deep breathes as you felt applicable.
the entire time you'd been brushing your teeth, you just kept going through calming mantras in your head, desperately trying to grasp ahold of the shit show inside your head. thankfully the rest of the night was easy—easy because as soon as your head hit those inanely comfortable pillows you were out.
the reason for waking up this morning—like expected—was because of your mother, who loudly entered your and nico's room with a tinsel covered sweater and bright smile. "wake up love bugs. taylor wants us all to go into town and look at the trees together!"
you're then hyperaware that nico is obviously still without a shirt, and you happen to be tucked against his bare chest like your life depended on it. his peck, although it doesn't look it, is a surprisingly comfortable pillow. your body stiffen's against him, but before you can roll away, nico tightens his grip around you, keeping you in place.
"give us a few minutes." you manage to tell her, practically rigid against the devils captain. "nico isn't wearing pants." you can hear him make a noise of protest beside you, pinching your hip between his fingers.
"take your time you two!" she sing songs, leaving the room with as much pep in her step as usual. as soon as the door clicks closed, you push off nico, but he doesn't let you get too far, fingers wrapping around your wrist to stop you.
"why'd you tell your mom i'm don't wearing pants?"
"I panicked."
"you're ridiculous—you know she's going to think we had sex now." his amusement is clear, and although it's at the expense of his dignity, nico is enjoying the humor of it all.
you shrug, slipping out of the bed. "hate to break it to you but they already think that."
through the mirror you left your bag in front of, you watch nico eye you from the back, his brows pulled curiously. "and why's that?"
"didn't you know? i'm secretly this like crazy minx who brings different boys to family trips and-" you're interrupted when nico tosses a pillow towards you, his laughter echoing throughout the room.
"get dressed freak."
you think one of your favourite things about being around nico is that no matter how his comments make your stomach swoop and how his gentle lingering eyes leaves your heart pounding, it's always easy to speak with him and just...be his friend.
which you suppose is normal with friends—you think?—its kind of hard to tell. you've only been close with your sister growing up, and then when you met bree in college she became your only other companion. when bree met dougie and inevitably started dating him, it opened up this new world to you; going to events and games, meeting so many people all with different personalities and backgrounds.
meeting nico was different though, because unlike the catalog of people that had come in and out of your life, nico was a constant. in the four years of knowing him, he's always managed to be that person—that friend—you felt you'd been missing. despite always playing nonchalant about your relationship with nico, dismissing him to be just a casual friend, you did really like him and cherish that friendship...and it kind of scares you.
after you moms abrupt wake up call, you and nico quickly got ready for the day, bundling in your warmest clothes to bare the chilly downtown weather—granting your nieces christmas tree browsing wishes.
the town is decorated beautifully, with stunning icicle lights dripping from every building, red ribbon wrapped around poles and pulled into bows at every corner, and the trees—filled with various sized and shaped ornaments that perfectly encapsulate the christmas season.
it feels like something out of a hallmark movie with the gentle pressure of nico's hand in yours, guiding you both behind taylor as she excitedly makes you look at everything. your sister and brody watch in amusement, very used to their daughters excitable personality. and of course your mom makes you and nico pose for hundreds of photos, because she has to 'capture the beautiful moment and the beautiful couple.'
she evens asks for you and nico to kiss—again—but just before you have to make up another excuse, brody chucks a snowball right at your chest. you immediately start hurling them back at your brother-in-law, distracting everyone from another non-kiss moment between you and nico.
after a few hours in town you all head back to the lodge, stomachs ready for some warm food to heat up that achy cold emptiness.
you place the serving tray full of freshly buttered buns in the middle of the table, next to the sour cream and shredded colby jack cheese—both necessities with your moms homemade chilli.
on the other side of the table, nico places one of the last bowls, the ceramic dishes clanking together—it's a peaceful noise, one that's often heard in kitchens. his eyes suddenly flicker towards you, and when he catches your stare a slinky smile curves at his lips. "are you judging my placement right now?"
the tease—so mundane and playful—has your smile growing, butterflies tickling the lining of your growling stomach. "never."
his gaze narrows, "well i'm definitely judging your butter abilities—that spread is so uneven."
you gasp, "think you could do better, hischier?"
"oh," he laughs, "I know I could."
you smirk, picking up one of the grapes sitting loose in the fruit bowl at the end of the counter, tossing it in nico's direction. but like the coordinated athlete he is, catches it in his mouth, chewing the crunchy grape slowly—winking at you while he chews.
"y/n," your mom looks at you over her shoulder, "do you mind just finishing adding the herbs? I gotta run upstairs quick."
"sure." you hum, making your way over to the stovetop, taking the long handled wooden stirring spoon from your mom. she thanks you with a squeeze on your arm before waltzing out of the kitchen, disappearing up the stairs.
as you begin twirling the utensil through the thick chilli, you feel nico come up next to you, his chest brushing against your arm. "why are you stirring it like that?"
you look up at him with wide eyes, your amusement clear. "you are just tearing my cooking apart today."
he laughs, "you're not cooking anything. you're simply just spreading and stirring."
a noise similar to a scoff falls from your mouth, and you tear your gaze away from nico quickly. "i'll spread something all right." you mutter with faux irritation, turning your shoulder away from him.
nico laughs again, chest rumbling against your skin. "that sounded dirty." his forearm wraps around your torso, holding you against his chest.
you're momentarily speechless with the feeling of nico touching you so intimately. your slow stirring comes to a stop, the end of the wooden spoon almost falling into the pot—but you don't notice. your head slowly falls backwards, resting just under nico's collarbone. "what are you doing?" you ask quietly, looking up at him.
nico leans down, his lips brushing against your ears. "what does it feel like i'm doing?" his breath is warm on you and you feel a static travel over your body—from your ears, down to your neck and shoulders, even reaching your toes.
"it feels like you're trying to hit on me." your words comes out breathily, barley reaching your own ears.
"maybe I am," he shrugs, and like he didn't just send your heart plummeting to your stomach, nico says, "your sister is watching us."
discreetly your eyes dance towards the large living room where you catch a glance at tammy—who is trying to not make it look obvious as she stares at you both lovingly, a cheesy smile on her face.
"so the only reason you're touching me is because of the audience?—that's a bit freaky, even for you nico."
he pinches your side lightly, which sends you squirming backwards, further into his embrace—chilli and herbs long forgotten. "i'll take any excuse to touch you, y/n."
nico looks down at you warmly, that boyish grin on his face that makes him look so warm and cuddly. you feel your face heat up at his insinuation, and you look away from his playful expression, bowing your head so you're looking back to the chilli.
"you're so pretty when you blush," nico mummers against your skin, pulling you back to his chest.
your blush deepens, a light laughter bubbling through your chest as you playfully push him away. "you're distracting me."
before nico can say anything else, the distant voice of your mother approaches. "and this is the kitchen! isn't it just so beautiful susan? I mean not just the lodge but the whole resort."
susan? who the hell is—oh my god.
nico watches your face drop, your eyes darting towards the kitchens entryway as the voices grow closer, this susan lady answering your mother just as enthusiastically.
he's quickly back at your side, a gentle hand brushing against your lower back. "what's wrong?" nico's question is hushed—determined.
you're honestly surprised that you can hear his whisper over the blood rushing in your ears. the rush of anxiety that pumps through your blood is overwhelming, and the reason you'd brought nico to your families christmas vacation comes trampling back. you swallow roughly, "susan...she's my moms friend and-"
"guys, this is my friend susan and her son scott!" your moms chipper tone halts your scentence, you and nico watching silently as your mom gestures to the unexpected company.
scott is...actually not that bad to look at—which is a gold star on your moms part. the dark haired man is standing merely few feet away from you as he moves to greet tammy. he's got that finance bro look to him, with a crisp button up shirt underneath his puffer vest—why men insist to wear vests inside is something you'll never understand.
he greets brody like a typical male would, bringing him in for a quick slap on the back—a smile on his face that shows his perfectly white teeth.
"y/n, honey this is scott." you mom singles you out, which of course she does, pointing towards scott with a wink in your direction.
you can feel nico stiffen against your back, his forearm snaking back around your waist. before you can think, you let your hand rest over nico's, interlocking your fingers between his resting against your torso.
"nice to meet you, y/n." he greets with a grin. "i'm scott. i've heard so much about you."
"you too, scott." you smile politely. "this is nico-"
"her boyfriend." nico finishes your scentence firmly, the hand that wasn't around your body jutting out on the other side of your body for a handshake. 
scott breathes a laugh, shaking his hand. "boyfriend, huh? lucky guy." briefly scott's eyes flicker back towards you, eyeing you with a look you can't decipher. you feel yourself shrinking further back into nico, seeking that comforting aura that is the devil's captain.
"very much so." he agrees firmly, squeezing the flesh of your hip. there's a tense moment of eye contact between the two men, almost like a wordless battle of alpha male energy—which isn't very like nico.
scott hums curiously. "you look really familiar. do I know you from somewhere?"
"must have one of those faces." nico answers modestly, shrugging his shoulders once.
tammy waltzes into the kitchen, followed by her husband who is holding taylor in his arms. hearing the tail end of the conversation, brody pipes in with a quick laugh. "he looks familiar cause he's the devils captain dude—we are in the presence of jersey royalty."
"a professional athlete?" scott questions, that curious but condescending tone still laced in his voice. "bit unstable, no? unpredictable with trades and that?"
"can be. thankfully i've been lucky enough to have been with the devils since 2017."
"lucky indeed." once again, scott's eyes flicker back to you—giving you that awkward and uncertain feeling.
sensing the tension, tammy quickly intervenes. "taylor did you want to show scott and susan your stuffies before dinner is plated?"
taylor glances towards the two guests. "no." then her tiny brown eyes move towards you and nico, and instantly she's skipping towards you both. "nico can you sit beside me at dinner?"
something prideful blooms in your chest at taylor's request and dismissal of scott and his rather uncomfortable presence. "I don't know taylor," you begin teasingly, "I wanted to sit beside nico first."
she laughs, her adorable toddler giggle like music to your ears. "how about we both sit with nico."
you hum in faux thought. "should we ask him? see what he thinks?"
"yes." she giggles.
nico, who has obviously heard the entire interaction, pretends like he was unaware of the conversation happening quite literally in front of him—he ponders the question playfully, index finger tapping against his chin. when he tells taylor that he will sit with both of you, her tiny face lights up, and you can't help the way yours does as well.
dinner is served very quickly after, brody on serving duty as he fills every bowl with a hefty amount of chilli. the dinner runs relatively smoothly, saved for a few condescending questions from scott asking about only nico. for somebody who was seemingly trying to get to know you—despite having a boyfriend—scott seems to be really interested with the man beside you rather than you yourself.
thankfully only an hour after dinner and enduring painfully boring conversation with susan and scott, they end up leaving to go back to their lodge, and that god because you desperately are ready for sleep by that point—excusing yourself and nico as you head towards the bedrooms for another much needed nights rest.
you pull the duvet back, creating enough space for you to climb in.
nico follows suit, slipping under the cool flannel sheets. "scott seems..."
you interrupt his trailing thought. "like an asshole?"
"yeah." he breathes. "truly what is that guys deal?"
"I don't know." you roll onto your side, facing nico with a huff. "I can't believe my mom still invited them to dinner. even though susan is supposedly her friends—who, by the way i've never heard of before tuesday. I thought she would've at least...I don't know, respected my boundaries? i'd that fucked up to say?"
nico shakes his head against the pillow. "no, it's not."
you groan, your irritation clear. "and then when she first introduced us and she winked at me? like hello what is that about? because as far as she's concerned i'm clearly not looking for a relationship. I brought you here for this exact reason and-"
"hey," nico breathes gently, gathering your attention by running his hand over your pyjamas sleeve covered arm. "it's okay, you're okay. I understand that you're feeling stressed and frustrated but don't get in your head about this."
you take a deep breath, nodding.
nico continues, "I don't think she had any malicious intentions with inviting them to dinner. I think she was pleasing people—like you would."
"I just wish her people pleasing didn't involve a literal walking bag of crap."
nico breathes a quiet laugh at your insult. "she just wants what's best for you, y/n—like you said. she doesn't realize that it's making you uncomfortable and she's too distracted by it all to notice that scott is 'a literal walking bag of crap.'"
your lip tugs upwards slightly.
"you should talk to her about it."
you groan, face rolling into the fluffiest part of your pillow. "I think as my boyfriend you should tell her for me."
"i'm not actually your boyfriend." he laughs.
you scoff. "way to ruin the mood."
nico's smile is barley visible through the dark bedroom, but you can still see it and the sight had you following suit, a grin taking over your face. he rest his head on his bicep, facing you. it all feels so intimate and precious that you never woke to forget it.
your heart beat feels like it's dangerously fast, making you feel the best kind of nervous. you're glad the room is dark because you blush, clearing your throat. "i'm so happy that you're here nico. I don't know what I would've done today if you weren't here."
his smile falters slightly as he swallows thickening salvia, eyes trained on your face softly through the moonlit room. "i'm happy i'm here too..with you."
DAY 3
you peer down the snow covered hill, gnawing on your lip in an unsure manner. "does it seem bigger from up here?" your hands wrap around the ski poles tightly, desperately trying to keep yourself from moving forward.
nico expertly slides in front of you, his skis bumping yours. "do you want to go back down? we can just walk back to the lodge if you're feeling scared."
you shake your head quickly. "i'm not scared...im just worried about falling on my face." truth of the matter is that you are feeling scared—scared because you actually hadn't skied since you were 10, and you'd actively avoided the actual ski part of your holiday trips by sitting in the lodge and reading whatever book you'd been into since then—but not this year.
nico wanted to get out on the hills, and even though he said that he didn't mind if you wanted to stay at the house or even in the holiday themed ski lodge, you didn't want him to feel alone out there, especially because he's doing you a favour in just being apart of your families christmas—so here you are on top of the ski hill. plus, any excuse to get away from scott, which of course your mom invited him and susan to spend the day with you all, you'd take.
"you're not going to fall on your face." nico tells you, his tone gentle as he looks down at you.
"you don't know that." you say. "what happens if my ski catches a divet in the ice and I go head over heels into the snow?"
he laughs gently. "the only reason you'll fall is because your hairs in your face—here." nico ditches his poles in the snow, and with glove covered hands he reaches towards your face. gently he tucks your hair underneath your hat, pushing away any hairs that have fallen out from your braid.
you swallow, eyes flickering over his face. "i'm a little nervous." you finally admit.
"it's okay to be nervous." nico adjusts the strap of your goggles over your pink helmet, moving it into a proper position. "it's also okay to back out."
"I don't want to back out." you huff. "I want to do it."
his lip tugs upwards in a half smile. "yeah?"
"yeah." you nod. "but you have to do it with me." you both make your way—you very cautiously—towards the edge of the slope. "i'm serious nico."
"I won't leave your side, okay? fix your knees like I showed you earlier...yup, just like that." he watches you intently, making sure you're in a proper position. nico finds your face again, an apprehensive look in his eyes. "you sure?"
"think so." you hum. "it’ll be fine." before you can decide to back out, you manually push forward until your skis take over, sliding down the first dip of the hill, sending your downward.
the sound of your skis slicing through the icy snow is a rather relaxing sound, one that has a smile breaking out on your face. the feeling of quickly moving through time, with the cool air kissing your exposed cheeks is rather freeing, and for a moment you're not thinking about anything other than yourself and nico.
you can hear nico follow suit, following your tracks within a safe distance. "good! keep your blades a little bent! like pizza." he calls to you, voice travelling through the wind whipping past your ears.
"am I doing it?!" you question loudly, eyes still casted forward as you reach the middle area of the slope, continuing the rather speedy descent down the snowy hill.
"you're doing it." nico answers proudly—a boyish chuckle following.
"oh my god!" you scream happily, "i'm doing it." you slide over a small lip on the hill, propelling slightly into the air. miraculously, you land with only a small teeter in your legs, continuing to ski downwards.
in a moment of excitement, you turn to look over your shoulder, eyes wide and full of disbelief as you find nico. "did you see that?"
his face falls. "y/n, watch out!"
as soon as nico's warnings finishes, you feel somebody slam into you, affectively sending you off balance and smacking towards the ground. you feel the snow cover your face as you land, and you groan out, eyes closing as a quick wave of pain washes over you.
"holy fuck—y/n are you okay?" the voice sounds a little distant to your ears, like they are muffled. they help you sit up, gently cradling your biceps with their hands as they pull you into a sitting position.
you squint in attempt to focus your vision, blinking quickly to clear the blur. "what?"
nico's concerned face slowly appears in your eyesight. "are you okay?"
you groan again. "I think so."
he breaths loudly—a sound of relief. his hands move from your arms and towards your face, un-clipping the helmet strap from under your chin. nico pulls the hot pink protective gear off your head, leaving you with your damp beanie and snow coated braid. "you scared me for a second there. does anything hurt?"
"not really, maybe just a little sore and bruised." you swallow gently as you watch nico as he gently moves your head from side to side, checking for external injuries. his gaze is so intense—so focused. the embarrassment and lingering pain in your limbs has you feeling emotional, and your lip trembles. "i'm sorry."
instantly, nico's eyes snap back to yours. "don't apologize." he watches the way your eyes begin to well up with tears, quickly looking around as if you're seeing how many people are watching you. immediately he knows you're feeling embarrassed on top of everything else, and he pulls you into his chest, pressing a quick kiss against your hairline over your knitted hat.
you can barley feel the kiss, but it's enough to where the gesture has you melting—melting because he wasn't doing it because somebody in your family is watching or making him…nico simply just wanted to.
"you're okay." he mumbles against your hat.
"I think I wanna walk the rest of the way." you mumble waterly, attempting to joke.
he smiles against you, "you think so?" pulling back, he meets your eyes, a boyish grin on his face. the sight instantly has you feeling better, and with a small grin you nod.
nico helps you remove your boots from the ski blades, popping open every latch and button so you're easily able to slip out of the boot slot. he follows suit with his own ski's, freeing himself of the blades hold so he's left in only the chunky boots.
a familiar voice calls your name, approaching you and nico. "shit i'm sorry." scott says, stopping in front of you with his ski's tucked under his arm. "I didn't realize it was you."
nico stiffens. "you hit her? seriously?"
"I just said sorry man." scott huffs. "no need to get all annoyed."
his brows raise is pure shock, eyes squinting accusingly in the shorter man's direction. "sorry doesn't help. what if she got seriously hurt?"
"she didn't though."
nico breathes in disbelief. "that's not the point."
scott takes a step back, "relax, dude."
"she's my girlfriend. I can't relax."
"whatever." scott looks back towards your shy face, offering you a sympathetic shrug. "sorry again y/n."
you nod once. "thanks."
that's all it takes for scott to leave again, practically jogging away from the both of you, back down the hill. he disappears behind the slope of the hill, and immediately nico is turning back to you, his expression that was only moments ago hard and strong, now soft. "he doesn't deserve your apology."
"I know." you breathe. "but I was done listening to him."
nico nods understandably, but he looks slightly worried—guilty maybe? "are you upset with me about that?"
"no. i'm glad you were here to defend me honestly. I would've crumbled under the pressure of my own need to be a people pleaser." you laugh lightly.
the ghost of a smile takes over his face. "promise?"
you nod. "help me down the hill? I need you right now—my hips a little sore."
in an instant nico is grabbing you, careful of your sore hip as he wraps an arm around your torso. "let me know if you need to stop at all, okay?"
you both begin to slowly walk down the hill, nico dragging the ski stuff behind you. "you worry too much." you tease him, gaze flickering to his face.
he breathes a laugh, not looking away from the hills. "yeah I worry cause I—" he pauses briefly, a gentle gulp following. "cause you're my friend, y/n."
"your friend?" you question his choice of words quietly—timidly.
finally, he meets your eyes. "yeah."
there's a moment then, where you're looking at one another with eyes that say a million things your mouths can't yet. you're unsure whether or not nico was about to admit to something—deeper feelings—before correcting himself, and you're not sure if you'll ever know.
but you're too scared—to anxious—to find out. because if it's not the answer you're hoping for, your christmas eve will be ruined, and your heart will be broken.
you laugh, breaking the tension. "that's not very fake boyfriend of you to say."
nico blinks once, but soon his expression changes into a more playful one, eyes twinkling with amusement. "c'mon y/n/n."
the warm bubbles are slightly ticklish against your skin, but it's a pleasant feeling. you sink further into the hot tub, letting the jets and heat do their job on your sore body.
as the sun started setting through the kitchen window, the pain of your earlier incident was only getting worse, and you could barley move without hissing in pain.
after the 8th groan of discomfort during jim carey's grinch, your mom suggested the hot tub. aftet all what good were you trying to put presents under the tree if you couldn't even bend over to pick them up.
the almost instant relief from the hot tub was enough to have you moaning out, submerging up to your shoulders and letting the water splash up your neck.
a beat passes and the sliding door sounds, opening into the cool night. "hey, got the presents from my car." nico stands by the entrance, peering through the dimly lit deck over in your direction.
"did you give them to tammy?" you question gently.
"I did." nico hums, gently shutting the door behind him. "you okay in there?"
"getting there." you sigh, eyes carefully watching as nico makes his way through the covered deck—no doubt the cold snow covered his feet in the slides he’d slipped on before getting the presents.
"anything you need from me?"
the nighttime pain reliever you’ve been popping since getting back from the lodge has you feeling a bit sleepy and loopy—completely erasing any kind of filter you have. you raise a brow, squinting at him through the mist coming off the water. "I want you to get in."
he laughs gently, resting his hands against the edge of the tub as he looks over at you. nico takes his lip between his teeth briefly, eyes flickering over your submerged figure. "didn't bring a bathing suit."
"nico." you whine, dragging his name out.
"you can't get upset with me," he smirks, "you didn't tell me there'd be a hot tub."
"okay, well just strip down into your underwear and get in." you breathe, "promise I won't look." you hold your hand up like your in scouts, looking up at him with most puppy-dog expression you can manage.
"y/n..." he trails off, almost like a gentle warning.
you continue. "i'll even let you have one of my three towels afterwards so you don't have walk back inside in just your underwear.”
his brows pull together. "why did you bring three towels?"
"I like to be extra warm—just get in."
a moment passes—practically watching the gears turn in nico’s head as he debates your ask. just when you think you’ll have to beg again, desperate to have nico close to you, he sighs, pushing off the edge of the hot tub. in one swift motion he pulls his hoodie off, his muscles flexing beneath his rising t-shirt, exposing nico’s hard v-line and happy trail.
you smile in satisfaction, watching as he continues to shed his clothes until he's left in just his black boxer shorts. you try your best to not stare—you really do—but when your fake boyfriend happens to be that muscular and hot, it's hard to keep your eyes away.
he quickly steps into the steaming hot tub, joining you under the water. "happy?"
you smile triumphantly. "very much. I feel better already."
"I bet you do."
a beat passes, only the sound of the running jets to be heard through the night. it's very relaxing, and with nico with you it now feels 10 times better. under the water you extend your leg until your foot gently nudges his leg—grabbing his attention. "thank you again for today. for everything, I just...i'm really happy that dougie called you for me. because I would've been too nervous to ask you myself."
his brows raise. "why would you have been nervous?”
shyly, you shrug. "I don't know, I just didn't want you to think I was...taking advantage of you or something."
"I wouldn't have thought that—I don't think that." nico moves closer to you, the warm water sloshing around slightly as he comes to a stop in the seat beside you. instinctively you turn your body towards him, eyes curious and knowing all at once.
a beat passes.
"did you know when I was a kid on christmas eve I used to convince my sister that if she didn't let me have her last advent chocolate santa wouldn't come."
you grin. "you didn't."
he laughs. "I so did. and I remember feeling like such a badass about it to. then when she found out that santa wasn't real and I was simply just conning her into an extra chocolate she lost it—and I mean lost it."
"what did she do?"
"obviously she told my parents, which was expected." nico hums. "but she also smashed my game system—like completely destroyed it with our dads hammer."
you gasp, "no."
"yeah and I cried like a baby."
you laugh gently.
nico continues. "looking back now I definitely shouldn't of been so sneaky. and now every christmas I always buy her an advent calendar as an apology."
"that's kind of cute." you coo sweetly.
his eyes soften at the sound, watching your head tilt in admiration. "you would really like her. you two are kind of similar."
you stifle a knowing laugh. "after hearing how she smashed your gaming stuff I think I have to agree—one year I sent taylor's favourite scarf for a trip in the fireplace."
nico snickers, "you little rebel."
"don't laugh," you smile. "she had taken my favourite babydoll I'd opened that christmas and covered the entire face in marker. so instead of going to my parents like I should have, I just threw her scarf right in the fire."
"damn," he breathes. "remind me not to steal your baby dolls."
"oh since then i've kept them all locked away, so you'll never find them." your eyes glisten with a playful shimmer, looking at nico teasingly. he mimics your lighthearted expression, a warm smile pulling on his lips.
your eyes wander to his exposed arm, catching sight of the familiar pattern of ink on his inner arm. "i've always like this one." slowly you reach out, tracing the tattoo with a wet finger.
"yeah?" he watches the way your touch moves over the artwork, your fingers leaving a wake of goosebumps on his skin—despite the heat from the hot tub, chills run over his body.
"yeah." you nod. "does it mean anything?"
"it's my families star signs," he points to the first one, tracing the greek symbol. "they all bleed into one another, almost like it's representing a family line."
“nico that’s…really cool.” you smile gently. "when did you get it?"
he laughs gently, a blush coating his cheekbones. "long time ago."
you snicker, eyes flickering back towards his face and away from the sentimental tattoo on his string bicep. “alright old man.”
he quirks a brows at you, amused. "we're the same age."
playfully you shush him, bringing your finger towards his plump lips in a silencing motion.
quickly, nico grabs your wrist, pulling your tiny hand away from his face. his firm yet teasing grasp around your hand sends your skin into a flurry of flames, igniting under his warm palm.
his eyes flicker between your eyes and your pouty lips as if he can't decide where to look—what to do.
you lean in ever so slightly, scared that if you move too suddenly you'll wake up from a dream. nico's hold on your hand changes, fingers trailing down your wrist and off your arm.
his hand finds your slick thigh under the bubbly water, and your heart feels like it's going to jump out from your ribcage with how hard and intensely its beating. as nico's thumb begins to rub along your skin, pleasantly tickling your thigh, you think you may just die.
your hand inches towards his torso under the water, your fingernails just scraping softly against his abs—
"I should get out." nico mumbles. "I haven't packed yet and I gotta leave before 9."
you swallow the disappointment you're feeling, blinking away your emotions as you pull your hand away. "yeah. sure."
he gets out of the hot tub, and you can't even watch him as he does. nico wraps himself in one of your towels before gently looking back towards you. "i'll see you inside, okay?"
you hum in acknowledgment.
and then he leaves.
you mope in the hot tub a little bit longer than expected, and by the time you finally drag yourself back inside the only person awake is your mom.
she sits on the couch silently, finishing up some last minute wrapping of what seems like a gift for brody—some football jersey for a team you don't recognize. "feel better honey?" she asks.
you nod once. "yeah, thanks." you start to walk further into the home, towards the stairs, but your mom stops you, calling out your name quietly.
"before you go upstairs," she sighs, "I just wanted to say i'm sorry about scott. I shouldn't have even put that idea in your head when I called you and I shouldn't have invited him and susan around the that times I did. he was not only disrespectful towards you, but he was disrespectful towards nico and your relationship."
your chest warms. "thanks mom. it's okay."
"but I already invited them for breakfast after presents tomorrow—honestly susan is kind of a bitch and the last thing I need is for her to fuck me over to corporate because I didn't have her and her asshole son over for breakfast."
you snort, which has your mom joining in on the hughes laughter. you're truly not upset about that, and if anything the whole thing is so authentically your mom that you're almost glad she invited them.
just when you think she's done, your mom continues with a twinkle in her eyes. "I must say y/n, I've never seen you happier or more comfortable in a relationship that what i'm seeing when you're with nico. honey I don't know why it took you so long to realize there was something more between you because nico is special."
you feel tears well up in your eyes, a million unsure emotions coming to a tilt in your throat. you nod. "yeah. he is."
DAY 4
"do you really have to go?" taylor's tiny voice wobbles with emotion slightly, looking up at nico with her wide animated eyes.
he crouches down to her level, soft gaze unwavering. "unfortunately. I have to work tomorrow.”
"okayyyy." she pouts. "maybe next time you can bring your stuffies for the tea party."
"that's a great idea." he grins at the way your jives face lights up, already giddy at the thought of the next party.
your mom suddenly cooes, moving towards the front door where nico stands with his suitcase. she frowns at him, "honey thank you so much for coming, you've been wonderful."
he stands to his full height, embracing your mom as he wraps her arms around him in a familiar hug. "thank you for having me."
you watch silently, gnawing the skin around your thumb anxiously. you'd been dreading this since you were awoken at 7 by your niece for presents, and saying goodbye to nico today was weighing on you heavily—even with the lingering unspoken words from last nights abrupt departure.
"safe driving, nico." tammy smiles towards him kindly.
brody chimes in, "yeah man, can't have you going down. the devils need you."
your fake boyfriend laughs gently, nodding. "i'll try my best to get home in one piece." then nico's eyes flicker towards you, a soft yet sad expression pulling at his face. he takes a deep breathe, plastering on a bigger smile. "i'll see you when you're home."
you nod, your own forced smile on. "i'll see you then, nico." there’s an unspoken meaning with the goodbye—one that feels permanent and you hate it. with one more emotional glance in your direction nico waves goodbye to your family….and then he leaves.
the hallow feeling that runs through your bones is almost painful, your eyes trained on the spot he was just standing. a million feelings run through you at once—hurt, anger, confusion, warmth, guilt. it's all one big stressful ball, but yet somehow through all that you know there's real feelings for your friend there, ones that have been making your heart run ramped and your stomach flip around with butterflies for years.
"hey," scott's quiet voice interrupts your thoughts, looking over at you with flirtatious eyes. "if things with lover boy don't work out, ill be here." you’d honestly forgot him and susan were here, arriving just after taylor had tore through all her presents for breakfast.
it had you rushing to open your present from nico—because of course he bought you a present—his jersey and a handbag you’d been wanting for years. a handbag that only taylor knew you loved, meaning that he talked to your best friend to get you the perfect christmas gift.
and yeah…you really like nico hischier.
blinking out of your thoughts, you properly turn and face scott. "that will never happen."
you look around the room at your family, who have now all resumed their normal routine throughout the home. taylor’s making your brother-in-law open every new toy so she could play with them, while your mom and susan busy themselves in the kitchen, talking while the kettle boils for another round of coffee.
you catch tammy's eyes and she nods—knowingly. you breathe a sigh of what feels like relief, and a tiny smile begins to pull at your lips. "i'll be right back." you mutter, and before you even realize what you're doing, you slip on somebodies slides, leaving out the front door.
the wind blows right though your gingerbread pyjamas, the cold biting against your skin—but you don't care as the only thing you can think about is him. "nico!"
the sound of your voice has him pausing, rounding from the back of his vehicle where he was loading his suitcase in. nico’s brows pull together tightly, looking and feeling rather confused as you hurriedly make your way towards him—merely slipping out of your shoes as you hit a patch of ice.
"what are you doing?" he questions.
"don't go." you words a rushed, looking up at him with a shy confidence in your eyes.
nico sighs quietly. "I don't really have a choice."
you shake your head, eyes closing in frustration. "I know - fuck don't don't go just stay...for a second."
"what are you trying to say, y/n?"
"I like you - like really like you." finally you break, looking towards nico with nothing but vulnerability on your face. "and I think deep down I always knew that, but something about this weekend...watching you interact with my family and seeing how much they like you—it's amplified everything to 100."
you swallow the lump forming in your throat, trying your best at keeping your voice steady as you continue. "and I really didn't think i'd be chasing after a guy in my pyjamas this weekend, but here I am. because you're not just some guy, nico. you're the guy. and I can't let you leave without saying that because I don't think i'll ever have the courage to say it again."
nico swallows. "I can't believe you just told me that." he pauses, a small laugh bubbling past his lips. "and right when I have to leave. because now I really want to stay."
you let go of a breath you weren't aware you were holding, relief rushing over you body at his words.
he continues. "I like you so much it's not even funny."
"you do?" you question shyly.
"yes." nico takes a step towards you, now close enough to reach out and touch. "you're my favourite."
"favourite what?" you whisper.
"everything." he reaches out, gently taking ahold of your face between his cold palms. his thumbs stoke along your cheeks comfortingly, looking down at you with half-lidded eyes as his gaze moves towards your lips. "what was the rule about kissing again?"
you inhale sharply, your own eyes watching nico's lips inch closer and closer towards yours. "only if absolutely necessary."
"thought so." nico's words are mumbled between you, lips brushing against yours before he finally closes the gap, connecting your mouths in a much desired kiss.
in that moment it's hard to think about anything other than the skillful and practiced kisses nico is giving you, his hand nestled at the base of your skull as he holds you to him, but one thing you do know is that you should've done this fake boyfriend thing years ago.
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raichukfm · 11 hours ago
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It's a fascinating question and the answer doesn't speak to it at all. We're talking about swapping perceptions, you know, the hypothetical thing that could answer those "What if my blue is your red?" ponderings. Were that the case and you were to swap, you would start seeing everything red as blue and vice versa, but you would be able to tell this. That's a controversial point, but we aren't proposing a full qualia inversion here; your internal concepts of red and blue haven't changed, just the way that your brain maps sensory stimuli to your qualia has. You can imagine red, and it's red as you have always imagined it, you just look at a red delicious apple and you see it as blue. (Actually a fascinating question whether people would agree with this assessment, and has me wondering about people with aphantasia specifically about if they think their 'red as they have always imagined it' can be separated from the way things with that color look to them. I'm getting off track.)
But this swap is different. Semiotics refers to the meanings that things have; for instance, the way you are looking at these squiggles or hearing these sound waves and taking them as a message. I am intending a meaning now as I type these words out, and you are taking away a meaning as you perceive them, and though it won't quite be the same meaning it is related. There's a question of where exactly the meaning you perceive is; is it in the message itself? Is it just contained in the context around it? Was it put there by me? Is it only there when you read or hear it?
And now specifically we're talking about abstract objects, things which aren't concrete; for instance, words as words, not images or sounds but the thing that those patterns invoke. Things where it is already an interesting philosophical question about how exactly it is that they exist. (For those with the bent to ponder it and not just go 'Uh, they just do, duh' because yeah that's fair.) And that's just one example of an abstract object. It's not all messages. There are numbers. There are complex mathematical objects, like groups and rings and fields. Are things like "peace" abstract objects?
If we do this swap of perceptions, so you perceive the meaning of an abstract thing to be the meaning that I perceive... What are you perceiving, exactly? Is it the thing anymore? Is this even truly a swap of perceptions or is it rather a swap of thoughts? If you took one piece of my mental model of the world and swapped it out with one of yours, how would it fit in? Would it fit in at all? It's fascinating.
The world isn't shrouded in darkness. There's not some blinding fog that has settled over everything. You can observe the world, make sense of parts of it, peer into its mysteries and try to think of answers. Yeah, it's confusing and a lot of pieces of it are out of reach but that's just because the world is so fucking big and complicated and so many parts we simply lack the faculties to possess. This question is that lovely kind of philosophical pondering that is fundamentally unresolvable and by all rights has no practical purpose... But we can still talk about it, and in talking about it, we can share ideas and work through how it is we think of things. If nothing else, we can enjoy ourselves. And that's as practical a purpose as anything else.
Don't see something you can't think of how to answer and decide that it cannot be answered and that now is a time to shrink away to safe thoughts that can be trusted. Ponder whatever bullshit that strikes your fancy, and try to think about what the answers would be. Even if you can fundamentally never find out if you're right or wrong, the thinking itself is a worthwhile exercise. Encourage other people to do it too, though don't try to force it; different people have their own sorts of funtime questioning. I've got things like this, some people have how much prep time Batman would need to defeat Shrek in a fight.
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equally confounded and obsessed by this quora question and response that i just stumbled onto
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felassan · 13 hours ago
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David Gaider: "It occurs to me, after reading posts getting it spectacularly wrong, that there are a lot of misconceptions over how game studios organize and, in particular, who makes the actual decisions about what ends up in your game. Much of it is by folks who don't *try* to get it... but not all, surely. I'll explain it a bit, but a big caveat: I'm going to talk in generalities and roles. Actual titles vary (a lot) from studio and studio, and the bigger a studio is the more segmented their departments (and thus management) is going to be. Even so, most studios, big and small, kind of work the same. To start, you're going to break your devs up into at least three groups: design (what is the game? how does it work?), art (what will it look like?), and engineering (making it go). There can be a lot of cross-over and some departments that don't fit into a project structure (QA, Marketing, etc.)"
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Rest of post under cut due to length.
"There's going to be someone in charge of these groups - these are usually called "leads" or "senior leads". The actual title varies. The Design Lead could be a Lead Designer, for instance, or it could be a Creative Director and a Lead Designer is what they call someone further down the chain."
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"These leads all report to a Project Director, someone who's job it is to manage the project as a whole. Now, this part gets a little dicey. Depending on the studio, this role can be anything from more production-oriented (they control the schedule) to an outright auteur who micro-manages everything."
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"More importantly, it's the PD who hands down the project goals to the Leads: the strategic goals, the needed features, the shape of it all, etc. The Leads then figure out how their department is going to tackle those, and work with each other. If the Leads conflict, it's the PD's role to solve it. How much autonomy or ownership those Leads have is, like I said, really up to the individual PD and that studio's culture. Even in the case of a PD who has a lot of authority over the project, however, they still report to the studio leadership (unless it's the same person, like in a small studio)."
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"The studio leadership is going to be giving the PD their marching orders, often in the form of those strategic goals. If there's a publisher involved, that's where the studio leadership is likely getting those goals. The PD, then, ends up being the person who has to negotiate with everyone above."
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"What does this mean? If the studio or publisher has concerns about the project, they're calling in the PD to explain. If the project needs more time or resources, it's on the PD to explain to them why and how and when. If there are a lot of layers above the PD... yes, it's a looot of meetings. So while the PD is managing up, the Leads are managing down. With big projects, that means managing the "sub-leads"... those in charge of the individual sections of their department. It'd be unmanageable otherwise, and the bigger the project the more of these there are going to be."
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"What does this mean? Well, let's look at the way BioWare broke up Design (as of 8 years ago, anyhow). Design consisted of Narrative Design, Level Design, Systems Design, Gameplay Design, and Cinematic Design (who worked in tandem with Cinematic Animation, which actually fell under the Art Lead)."
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"The sub-leads are handed their goals by the lead, and work out how they're going to produce their particular corner of the game and also, more importantly, how they're going to work with each other. Conflicts between sub-leads are handled by the lead, as are ANY conflicts with other departments. What conflicts could there be, you ask? Dependencies, for one. "I can't do X until Y is done, but Y is someone else's job". Or scope. "We need 20 doodads but the sub-lead said they only have time to make 10, what now?". Even outright differences in vision. Big projects means room for a LOT of egos. If you think this is easier with a smaller (or indie) project, the answer is "yes, but not really". The roles are still necessary but often get combined into one person. Or outsourced, and someone still needs to manage the outsourcing. Things fall off over-full plates. It's a different kind of hard. Anyhow, the point of all this is: the further you go down the chain, the smaller the box you can play in is. The less you have actual say over, and even then that say is subject to being overridden by ANYONE above... and must still play nicely with the needs and goals of the other departments. You also need to keep in mind that projects are constantly in flux. Problems that were thought solved need re-solving. The team falls behind schedule and scope needs to change. You are constantly in a dance, within your tiny box, trying to figure out sub-optimal solutions that cause the least pain. And there will be pain. Shit rolls downhill, as they say, and when the project encounters big issues that means those high up have the sad job of figuring out how to spread it out and who can afford to take the hardest hit. If you're that one, you take it on the chin and you deal. This is the job. Lastly, I'll re-iterate: not every studio works this way, exactly. The roles exist, sure, but are not divided up so neatly or as easily identifiable. Even so, this should give you an idea what "lead" and "sub-lead" mean... and perhaps help you imagine what it's like existing further down the chain."
[source thread]
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murdockcastleslut · 1 day ago
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meddle about
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an outerbanks band au! | a jj maybank and rafe cameron smau
synopsis: after competing and winning the battle of the bands, the sirens were offered a record deal, launching them into stardom. when they are about to go on their first world tour, the band is faced with the decision of who they will open for them. they choose the swell, their runner-up in the battle of bands two years prior. with a rocky past with some members of the swell, y/n, the leader singer of the sirens, must tread carefully not cause anymore problems during this choatic tour.
intros | prologue | part one
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tw: mentions of depression, anxiety, adhd, addiction, child abuse (emotionally and mentally), alcohol, weed, cocaine, homophobia, and sex.
word count: 2.1k
author's note: finals week kicked my ass but we slay and i put out a new chapter of something finally
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thursday, august 15th, 2024
You took one last puff from your cigarette before throwing it down to the ground and smothering it with your sneaker. You let out a loud sigh before grabbing the handle of the door and walking back into the first stop of The Lie to Girls Tour. 
As you walk in you notice how the venue has come to life with roadies sending everything up for later that night. You start walking towards your dressing room when someone calls out your name. 
You turn my head and see Ward Cameron making a B-line for me. You roll my eyes and stop in front of him. 
“What do you want, Ward?” You ask the manager of The Swell and Sarah’s father. 
He gives you a sneer and folds his arms to assert dominance over you. 
“Where is Sarah?” He asks with a stern look on his face. 
I let out a chuckle. 
“I don’t know where she is, Ward, but I can be damn sure she doesn’t wanna talk to you.” You say before walking away from the older man. 
You walk towards your dressing room and look around yourself diligently hoping you don’t see him. You make it to your dressing room and open the door to see Sarah getting her hair done by the band’s hair stylist, Aubree, and Cleo getting her make-up done by the band’s make-up artist, Kimora. You walk in, letting the door close behind you, and go straight for the couch that Kie is sitting on and lay your head on her lap.
“Your dad’s a dick, Sarah,” I say with my eyes closed enjoying the atmosphere of the room. Kite lets out a muted snort. 
“I know he is, but what did he do now?” She asks, twisting to look behind her at you on the couch. 
“Nothin, just asked where you were. But I guess he didn’t even bother to look because anyone else could have told him that you were here.” 
“Did you tell him where I was ?”
“Fuck no, that would mean I would have to spend five minutes walking with him here. I would rather spend the night in whatever torture chamber Satan's got prepared for that man.” 
The whole room laughs but you. You weren’t joking, you were serious. 
“How’d you even bump into him girlie?” Cleo asks? 
“Went for a smoke out on the side.” You reply nonchalantly. 
Everyone in the room this time groans. 
“I don’t like this judgment I’m getting from everyone. I hardly smoke cigs anymore! We are Texas and I’m not tryna get arrested before we have even gotten on stage.” I defend. 
“I guess that’s acceptable,” Kie says, tapping your nose. 
You scrunch your face at her. 
“So how are you girls feeling? The first night of your basically sold-out tour.” Aubree asks as she finishes the final curls on Sarah’s hair. 
“So excited, man. I have a good feeling about tonight.” Cleo smiles. 
“Oh my god, knock on wood right now, Cleo! You’re gonna jinx us!” You exclaim sitting up from Kie’s lap. 
“I don't think it’s…”
“I swear to god, you better knock.” 
Cleo doesn’t say anything but rolls her eyes and knocks on the ledge of the vanity in front of her. 
Kie looks at you and sighs. 
“Babe I mean this in the nicest way possible, did you take your meds today?” She questions. 
“Yes, I did.” You roll your eyes at her question. 
“So excited and nervous.” Aubree takes it away. 
“She’s just nervous about interacting with JJ.” Sarah spills.
“What the fuck! No, I am not! I could care less what the dipshit thinks.” You refute. 
Just as you finish, the band stylist, Jess, walks into the dressing room holding everyone’s outfit. 
“So you didn’t text me saying you literally have to look sexier than sexy this whole tour to show JJ he’s an idiot.” Jess chimes in.
You let out a loud groan. 
“Damn it, Jess. You just fucked my whole I don’t care vibe.” You whine. 
Everyone lets out a chuckle at your reaction. 
“Well, I’ll have you know that the outfit I picked up is killer.” Jess smiles. 
“Lemme see!” You sit up excited like a child at Christmas. 
She puts all the outfits on the rack and pulls out yours. 
Everyone in the room, oohs and ahhs. 
“Oh Jess, you are a magic baby!” You laugh. 
She smiles and shakes her head and walks over to you to give you the hanger. 
“Get changed, I wanna see how it looks on you.” She demands. 
“Yes, ma’am.” You smile and get up off the couch. You go behind the divider and get undressed and put on the outfit that she had chosen for you. 
You get changed into a faux leather corset and a black faux leather skirt. 
When you step out from behind the divider, everyone in the room whoops and whistles. 
“Get in my chair now,” Aubree exclaims. “I have the best idea.” 
You giggle and nod excited to see what she had in store for your hair. As Aubree works on your hair, Kimora starts on your make-up. 
The room is filled with laughter, music, and singing. Aubree is done with your hair pulled into a slick back 90’s spiky bun when there’s a knock on the door. She gives your hair one more spritz of hairspray before going to grab the door. 
When she opens the door, the once loud and obvious room is now dead silent. JJ Maybank is standing in front of the door. 
He looks around uneasily and then looks at you. He is in awe of the way you look. 
“Is there a reason you’re here?” Aubree sneers at him in an unkind tone. 
“Uh-uh i-uh..” He keeps staring at you. 
“Yo pervert, either say something or get out.” Kimora scolds him.
“Yeah- uh sorry,” he keeps his eyes on you. “Ward sent me to get you, says Minerva is looking for you.”
You scrunch your eyebrows in confusion. What the fuck? You think to yourself. 
“Anything else?” Kimora questions, their tone suggesting he’d leave. 
“He said I had to walk you there…” He hesitates. 
“She’ll be out in a minute.” She says before shutting the door in his face.
You turn to the other girls with your eyes widened in confusion. They all shrug at you not knowing what is going on. You look at Sarah and mouth Your dad’s a dick. She sighs heavily and nods. 
You look around the floor and put on your Doc Martens. 
“Fucking bastard.” You mumble to yourself about Ward before opening the door. 
You look at JJ with a sneer and wait for him to lead you to Minnie. 
“So uh- I’m…” He stutters out and you cut him off with a glare. 
The rest of the way to Minnie was silent. He did not try to utter another word to you. 
When you find her, she is surrounded by roadies asking her questions about the final touches on the venue. 
When she sees you and JJ together she gives you a strained smile. She knows that this is not a situation you want to be in. 
“Thank you, Jackson. You can leave us.” She says coldly and wraps her arm around your shoulder. You giggle when she calls him his legal name and wrap your arm around her waist. 
“You look like a good kid, everyone did you up real pretty.” She smiles down at you. 
“They did, this team might be my favorite.” You smile up at her. 
“Good, good…” She says as the two of you walk. “I gotta ask you a favor and I know you don’t wanna do it but Ward Cameron is up my ass and if I know if we make a fuss, which I want to, things will get leaked to the press and none of you kids need that right now.” 
“What do you need, Minnie?” You furrow your brow. 
“I need you, specifically, to sing a song with one of the members of The Swell. Ward wants it to be JJ for publicity to say there is no bad blood between the two of you, but he can kiss my ass. That is up to you to forgive him and only you, hun.” 
“Jesus Min, this man is gonna be a pain in our asses all tour isn’t he?”
Minnie nods and that is all you need to know that it is going to be a long tour. 
“Alright, I’ll do it. And I’m choosing the song.” You say. 
“Sounds good to me. Break a leg, you’re gonna kill out there.” She offers a kind smile before reaching five steps away from you and she is surrounded by people who need to ask her questions. 
You turn around and go back towards the dressing rooms. You look around looking for the name you need. You go up to the door and knock. 
The door opens and you have a smirk up at him. 
“How would you like to piss off your dad tonight.” You ask. 
He doesn’t respond with words but instead, a sly smirk spreads across his face and he opens the door wider so that you can step inside. 
The crowd was electric tonight. Even though most of The Swell’s songs were unknown to the crowd, they enjoyed it very much and it definitely helped that all the members were attractive. 
You stand backstage getting mixed up as you watch from the sidelines. As the last song comes to an end JJ goes up to the middle mic. 
“How’d y’all like that one?” He asks the crowd. They cheer and scream to show their enthusiasm. 
“Good, good,” He chuckles into the mic. “Now I’m gonna hand this over to Rafe.” 
Rafe is up from his drum set and someone is already taking his place. He runs up and daps up JJ before taking his place in front of the mic. 
“Now, if you’re a fan of The Swell, you’ll know I don’t sing up in the front often but I wanted to treat y’all for the first show. And as for something extra special, I have a guest. But your hands together for Y/N L/N of The Sirens, everybody!” He exclaims. 
The crowd goes while as your name is said and you step out on the stage. You give the band members a wave except JJ and head on over to Rafe. 
“Hey, everyone, are these guys treating you well?” You ask into the mic. The crowd cheers in response. You smile seeing everyone enjoying themselves. 
“I'm glad, so I have a question,” You look at the crowd. “Do y’all know Perfect by One Direction?” 
The crowd erupts in total chaos. 
“Seems like they know it, pretty girl.” Rafe flirts. You give him a smirk and move in closer. 
“Seems like it, so y’all are gonna sing along with us?” The crowd erupts once again in cheers. “Alright let’s do it.” You smile at the crowd. 
The music starts playing and you sway your body to the music coming from your ears. Rafe brings the mic to his lips and winks at you before he sings. 
“I might never be your knight in shining' armor, I might never be the home you take home to Mother,” He sings to the audience. “And I might never be the one who brings you flowers,” He turns to you while pointing at himself and sings “I can be the one, be the one tonight.” 
The crowd screams loving the chemistry the two of you are displaying 
“ When I first saw you from across the room I could tell that you were curious,” You sing, looking up at him and checking him out. 
“Oh, yeah,” The whole band harmonizes with you. 
“Boy, I hope you’re sure what you’re looking for ‘cause I’m not good at making promises” You riff. 
You and the whole band sing the chorus. But as you sing your eyes are locked on Rafe and his eyes are locked with yours. 
When everyone gets to the line, “If you like to do the things we shouldn’t do,” you and Rafe are close. He has one hand on the mic and the other on your waist. You have two arms around his shoulders sharing the mic he was sharing. His gaze is locked with yours not daring to look away. 
For the rest of the song the two of you are never less than a foot apart and when you are close one of you is touching the other. It was like you were the only people on stage even though you were performing in front of thousands.
Although you never looked away from the audience or Rafe, the one thing you could feel was JJ’s burning jealous gaze on your back. 
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after the concert...
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taglist: @ivysprophecy @kimoralov3 @arkofblake @eddsthemunson @zyafics @papercranesandinkstains @jjslaybank @isnt-itstrange @ayy1234567 @upsidedownjill @mads-writes-vibes @shincidios @hittmeandtellmeyouremine @mattslutiolo @xoxo-ada @mariamsdison6-blog @eternallovers65 @smootbrainchicken @starsval @writer-who-rarely-writes @whorelaud @ame1le @me-ig1 @marleymarleymarleymarley @cassiewritessalot @everinlove @robinsgrl
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easternflowerofthesun · 2 days ago
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           self-insert : indulgent
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BEST FRIEND ── MONA ︰ Mona and I met at our first year of High School (EU system). We clicked almost simultaneously, her dramatic personality paired well with my more down to earth one. She was absolutely in love with astrology and the zodiac signs, and we did many fun things with our horoscopes. She often gave me tarot cards readings! ( ↓ click more )
RIVAL ── CAPTAIN BEIDOU ︰ Beidou was the Captain of the Girls' Basketball Team. She was very popular and very well-liked amongst schools' population. In my opinion, the tales about her are all greatly exaggerated. We didn't get along back then, because she was always doing moon eyes at Lisa, my girlfriend, I always caught looking at her. She was infuriating 🙄 worst thing is, that she got along with everyone like a bundle of sunshine, so if I breathed a honest word about her I would have a army after my throat. She also had no respect for education, a subject I was quite cross with her a tremendous amount of times. She always brought beer to drink during breaks and burped right into my face afterwards to annoy the hell out of me. She wore leather bracelets to hide the prominent veins around her wrists which I found weird, she is weird. A tactless weirdo! I don't even know how she got a better grade at History and Mathematics' compared to me. And she should stay away from Lisa.
EX-GIRLFRIEND ── LISA ︰ Lisa and I knew each other since middle school. We got along like a house on fire, and I was absolutely delighted when she asked me out on a date. She always called me a cutie + darling when we spend time together in the library. It was for us both, our favourite place. Even though sometimes I couldn't handle her... vigour, I was more than grateful that she... taught me many things regarding... human nature. But like everything else in the world, good things must come to an end. After graduation, Lisa got accepted to the prestigious Sumeru Akademiya, while I was accepted to Liyue Dàxué. She broke up with me and after that... I fucked up.
ONE NIGHT STAND ── GANYU ︰ After Lisa broke up with me, I was left heartbroken for days. I couldn't go out of my room, I listened to sad music all the time, I could barely read my favourite books, and I love to read! I couldn't function properly, but my best friend Mona told me I needed to start moving on. She took me to a farewell party for high school graduates, and that was where I met Ganyu. She was the cutest, and the way she looked at me... how could I not kiss her? The wine must have gotten into my brain because next thing I knew, her godsend thighs were wrapped around my waist and I was kissing her against the wall, muffling all her addicting whimpers and quiet moans. I didn't know however, that Lisa was at the party —— which was stupid of me, we were classmates after all. I could never get over the heartbroken expression on her face as she took a step back, and then another, until she ran into the arms of... Jean?
"Was that your ex?" Ganyu whispered in my ear, and I glanced at her, seeing concern in her face. My eyes softened, rubbing her back reassuringly.
"Yeah..." I admitted quietly. "I'm sorry for this-" I was cut off by Ganyu silencing me with a long peck on my lips, and the gentleness of it surprised me, until I willingly melted in her embrace, letting her erase the thoughts of Lisa and Jean out of my mind.
UNREQUITED LOVE ── ROSARIA ︰ Months passed, and I started having a huge crush on the assistant of my religious professor, Rosaria. She was two years older than me, and I once caught her smoking at the Unis' backyard. She was very pretty... okay, she was very hot and I would have loved to see those stockings up close. I wouldn't dare though, not when she...
IGNORES YOU ── ROSARIA ︰ ... ignores the entirety of my existence. Even my good mornings go ignored by her. Mona wouldn't let me live it down!
FIGHT AGAINST ── KEQING ︰ Turns out, my crush on Rosaria was so obvious that she herself knew, and told her... girlfriend. Keqing was my senior, and before I knew it I was dragged forcefully into a storage closet. She pinned me against the wall, and glared at me with such irritation that I had to double take.
"Listen carefully," Keqing hissed, her voice low and poisonous against my ears. "You stay away from Rosaria. I don't care what excuse you may think you have, but if I see you so much as glance her way again, we are going to have multiple problems."
"Whoa, whoa! Hold on, what are you-" I panicked, is this girl crazy?!
"I, don't care how charming you think you are!" she spat, catching my wrists in a deathly grip. "I don't take kindly to people being homewreckers for fun."
I froze, my heart falling into pieces. "What?! No, what are you —— you... Rosaria... she's taken?" I rasped out, feeling a lump on my throat as the realisation started creeping in. Shit. Shit, shit, shit.
Keqing eyed me suspiciously. "You didn't know?"
I shook my head, no. My eyes suddenly felt watery, and I looked away from the purple beauty in front of me. I clenched my fists. Great, just my luck, no wonder she ignored me like that. I- shit, what have I done? "No... I didn't know. I would never..."
"Then let's not make this more of a bigger issue, it should remain this way, don't you agree?" Her sharp eyes pierced into mine, and I nodded. She didn't glance back once as she turned to leave, and I could only slid down to the floor once I was alone, wrapping my arms around my knees, trying for once again to get over heartbreak.
SAVES YOUR LIFE ── MONA ︰ Mona has saved my life more times than I could remember, than I could count on my two hands. I always had the tendency to get into trouble even when I don't want to. Mona said it's Capricorns' karma, I say it's because of my love for actual intelligent debates, and all inclinations to avoid misplaced childish confrontations.
MARRY ── CAPTAIN BEIDOU ︰ If you asked me I would tolerate being in the same room with Annoying Beidou 7 years ago, I would have called you crazy in front of everyone. But now after we started studying to become Historians together we... grew closer. It was infuriating at first, because she was so... happy all the type, a ball of energy, and always annoyed me in one way or another. Looking at her back then made me tired, it was laughable. It is even more laughable because now... now I'm married to her.
"I told you not to try to make dinner while drinking, Beidou!" I called, voice dripping with amusement.
Beidou's voice floated from the kitchen, her characteristic cheerfulness muffled thanks to the cacophony of clanging utensils. "I'm fine! I'm fine! I may just knocked over' a glass or two... or five."
I rolled my eyes, not bothering to respond as I went back to my reading. I sipped my hot chocolate quietly, savouring the sweet taste of my wifes' making.
A few minutes later, Beidou entered the living room with a shit-eating grin on her lips, her eye gleaming. I felt my stomach drop.
"I may or may not have overestimated my culinary skills! But! Wait!" She silenced me when she noticed me parting my mouth, to which I clicked shut in surrender. "I didn't burn anything this time!"
"Wow, such a big progress, I'm so proud of you," I drawled.
Beidou scowled, jumping over the furniture so she can crawl over me, snuggling into my lap without hesitation. "You're always so mean to me!"
My eyebrows rose, and I couldn't help but laugh. "Are you whining? Beidou, Captain of the Crux, whining over a little mean comment?"
She turned her head towards me, still in my lap. My hand went to the nape of her neck unconsciously, rubbing the no-doubt strained tendons. I completely ignored her heated glare upon my being, a small smirk gracing my lips.
"You hate me. I don't know why you even married me. Is it love or insanity? It must be insanity," she decided the answer herself.
I didn't hesitate. "Both, most likely to definitely."
She narrowed her eyes at me.
I grinned cheekily down at her.
"Bloody Brainiac," she muttered, snuggling further into my stomach and wrapping her arms around my waist in a hug.
"Annoying Sunshine," I muttered back, leaning down to kiss her cheek lovingly.
"My sunshine."
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Genshin Impact (waifu ver.) click and drag game!
warnings: flashing images
characters included: jean, mona, lisa, ningguang, beidou, ganyu, rosaria, la signora, keqing
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Game notes • How to Play
Please use a browser other than Google Chrome to play because the GIFs always lock onto their first frame on Chrome. Safari and Firefox work, please try those
If you're on mobile, screenshot the GIFs either as a set or individually
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bsturnzmtts · 2 days ago
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Older bf! Matt and sweetheart! Readers … First kiss
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Matt had invited you to his house while his brothers were out to bake cookies. You were excited to spend time together, completely focused on the fun of baking, and still oblivious to the fact that Matt had been flirting with you all along. Little did you know, he had something else in mind for the day…
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When you get to his house you knock on the door, excited for the activity he had planned.
Matt opens the door with a warm smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Hey," he greets softly, stepping aside to let you in. He closes the door behind you. "So, I thought we could make the classic, chocolate chip cookies”
“Hi, yeah that sounds perfect.” You say with a soft smile.
Smiling back at you, he leads you to the kitchen. "Come on, I'll get everything laid out." he says, taking out the ingredients and putting them on the counter. "I thought maybe we could make a little tradition of this."
“Yeah! We could even make them depending on the holiday. Like for Christmas we make gingerbread man cookies, for Halloween maybe we could decorate them on theme etc.” You say showing interest in his idea, and helping him out with the ingredients.
He leans against the counter, smiling at your excitement, and can't help but tease gently, "There you go again with your sweet ideas." He pulls out two aprons, one for each of you. "Let me put this on before we make a mess..." He puts his one on and then grabs the other one and walks closer to you to put it on.
You get slightly nervous when he gets close and puts on the apron on you. “We look funny in these.” You chuckle softly.
He chuckles too and ties the apron strings around your waist. "We do, don't we?" He says with a soft smile, his hands lingering on your waist for a moment before he steps back. "Now, let's get started on these cookies, shall we?"
“Let's get started” you agree. You guys start making the cookies, following instructions from a recipe you found online. You start adding and mixing ingredients.
As you work, Matt can't help but steal glances at you, admiring the way you concentrate on the task at hand, the way your hair falls in loose waves around your face, and the way your lips purse slightly as you focus on measuring out the ingredients. But he can’t help wanting a little bit of extra fun. So he puts a bit of flour in his hands and spreads some on your cheek. “Opps, looks like you got something on your cheek.” He laughs.
“Maaatt!” You laugh. “I’m gonna get revenge.” You say as you try to do the same thing he did to you.
He dodges playfully, a wide grin spreading across his face. "Oh no, I don't think so!" He teasingly grabs your wrists just as you're about to flour him, pulling you slightly closer.
“Not fair” you mumble.
"Life's not fair." He teases back, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "But if you play your cards right, maybe I'll let you get me next time." He slowly releases your wrists but remains close.
“Just a tiny bit on your nose pleaseeeee” you ask with a smile.
He pretends to think about it, tapping his finger against his chin dramatically. "Alright, alright. But only a tiny bit, promise?"
“Yeaaaaah only a bit” you say, but take the opportunity and spread flour all over his cheek and a small dot in his nose as you laugh.
He laughs out loud, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "You lied!" He wipes his hands on his apron. "Okay, I guess we’re equal now."
You guys laugh it out and continue with the cookies. Once the dough is done you put them straight in the oven.
“Okay! In 30 minutes we’re gonna have some amazing cookies” you say.
"Thanks to your excellent flouring skills." He teases, still wiping flour from his face. "You know, you're really good at this baking stuff." He compliments softly, his smile warm. "You're really good at a lot of things actually." He says as he steps closer leaving you in between the counter and him.
You get slightly nervous as he gets close again and can’t help but blush a little at his compliments. “Thank you.”
He notices your blush and softly reaches up to brush a slight smudge of flour off your cheek, his fingertips lingering for a moment longer than necessary. The way you react to his compliments makes him want to give you more, to see that pink spread across your cheeks again. "You don't have to be shy around me, you know?”
You get even more nervous and you look away. “I-… I’m not shy, I’m just-”
He tilts your chin up gently with his fingers, forcing you to look at him. "Just what?" He asks softly, his voice low and gentle. His eyes search yours, looking for the answer in their depths.
“Well… maybe a little shy,” you admit.
He chuckles softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "A little shy?" He repeats, his thumb gently rubbing your chin. "I think you're more than a little shy." He teases gently. His eyes are locked with yours as he gets even more closer. “Can I kiss you?”
You’re shocked by his question. You don’t know what to answer. So you just slur out the first thing that came to your mind. “I- I’ve never kissed.”
His heart skips a beat at your response. He gently lifts his hand and brushes a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering on your skin. "You've never kissed anyone before?" He asks, his voice barely above a whisper. Well what else could he expect from someone as innocent and shy as you, he thinks.
You shake your head feeling slightly embarrassed.
He smiles softly, his heart melting at your shy demeanor. "And here I thought you were just really good at playing hard to get." He jokes lightly. He steps even closer, one hand still gently pressed against your waist while the other cups your face. "Would you... let me be your first?" He asks, his voice tender and respectful.
A pink shade spreads through your cheeks as you feel even more nervous. But your head nods yes.
He lets out a soft sigh of relief as he gently leans in, his lips pressing softly against yours in a gentle, sweet kiss. It's a kiss filled with tenderness and care, as if he's treating something precious. His hand at your waist tightens slightly as he deepens the kiss gently. While you kiss back trying to mimic his movements.
A soft smile curls his lips at your innocent attempt to mimic him. He gently slides his hand up to cup the back of your neck, while keeping the kiss slow and tender. After a moment, he pulls back slightly to look at your flushed face. "Perfect.”
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muwapsturniolo · 7 hours ago
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Cyber Sex 💿 M. Sturniolo
"W-was it good?"
✘ sub!matt, loser!matt, domish!reader, riding, hand jobs, titty sucking, one use of mommy.
PT 1 PT2 PT3
Decided to give yall an early xmas gift!!! enjoy the last part to cyber sex!!!!
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Weeks.
It's been weeks since she had seen Matt and given him a blowjob. He had accepted his reward of taking her out on a date, but now it seemed like he was avoiding her.
Which was partially true.
As always, he was focused on his studies, especially with finals coming up. He stayed cooped up in his room or in the library, taking notes on top of notes. Passing all his tests was one of the only things on his mind, the other being her.
He wasn't trying to avoid her on purpose, but he will admit he's been milking the studying excuse.
It wasn't that he didn't like her, he was infatuated with her. It was just the fact the she was...well, her.
Everything about her was intimidating to him, the way she carried herself, the way she smiled, the way she squinted her eyes when she was up to no good.
She was a force to be reckoned with, and she knew it too.
So here she was, gathering the bags of takeout and other things, leaving her apartment with one thing on her mind.
Matt.
She doesn't take the elevator, knowing that the stairs would be quicker, and she's right.
Soon, she's standing in front of Matt's door, a determined look on her face. She knocks twice and waits impatiently for the door to open.
Unfortunately for her, it doesn't. She huffs and knocks again, but this time louder, the impatience she's feeling only getting stronger. Soon, she hears the muffled sound of cursing and some movement before the door opens.
" Hell-" Matt's breath catches in his throat as he sees her in all her glory. His eyes widen, and he fixes his glasses, looking off to the side.
"H-Hey what are you-" She ignores him and pushes her way into the apartment, looking around for a few seconds before setting her items down on the coffee table.
"Alright Matthew, let's talk." The tone of her voice makes him look down at the floor.
"You have been avoiding me, I don't know why, but you have, and to be honest, I don't like it. So what's your issue?"
He scoffs softly and crosses his arms, looking like a scolded child.
"M'not avoiding you..." He trails off, knowing good and well that he's lying. She stands in front of him and tilts her head, not believing him for a second. " Oh really? You're not avoiding me? Fine then, guess I'll go tell someone else that they wo-No!" He shouts unexpectedly. A small smirk makes its way onto her face as he watches him fidget anxiously.
"I-I'm sorry ok? I just....Like I said, you make me nervous, and then finals are starting, so I've just been everywhere... I-I didn't mean to make you feel bad o-or anything." Her smirk drops as she realizes this runs deeper than him simply avoiding her.
He truly was scared and nervous; this was all new to him, and he didn't know how to navigate it, and finals coming up wasn't helping him at all.
She softens her demeanor as he continues on, rambling in an attempt to clear the air. "I-I do want to take you on a date...I just don't want to disappoint you o-or embarrass myself..." She wasn't dumb, she could read between the lines.
He didn't want to disappoint her sexually.
"Matt....You don't have to worry about th-"
"Ok but it is something to worry about! I'm 21, and I've never done anything remotely sexual! All I do is stay to myself and study! I might as well be called a loser! hell, maybe even an incel!"
She stares at him with a straight face, "Matt-"
"And then here you are, the most experienced person I've met, the most prettiest girl, and yet I'm being a pussy and won't even take you out on a date! I'm fumbling! Hard! If this were a test, I'd fail!"
She finds herself smiling softly at his academic analogies.
"Are you done?" She asks him once he finally stops talking. He huffs and adjusts his glasses, running a hand through his hair. "Good. Now shut up and listen to me." She takes a step closer to him, his breath hitching.
"I don't care about any of that, ok? I don't care that you're a virgin and that I was the first girl to hear you moan." His cheeks flush a soft pink, his palms getting sweaty.
"What I care about is a boy that I find cute, sexual feelings aside, won't take me out on a date.....Now, I got takeout and a Lego set I'm not building alone. Do you want to join, take a break from studying?"
So there they were in Matt's living room, giggling and building a Lego set, the empty boxes of takeout discarded on the coffee table. The tension once in Matt's shoulder had disappeared, now knowing nothing was expected of him, and she wasn't worried about any of that.
He was able to relax, slowly coming out of his shell. She enjoyed his company, his witty remarks, his dad jokes, and the way he laughed. She was getting to know more about him and his life.
He was a good person to be around.
"I don't know where the piece goes!" He grunts in frustration as he tries to shove the Lego piece against another. She chuckles and snatches the instructions off the floor and holds them up. "This is why we have instructions, but no, you're too good for instructions.'' she teases.
He looks at her with a face of mock annoyance, "I'll have you know I've built multiple Lego sets with no instructions!" He points towards the various sets displayed around his apartment.
"Ok well, clearly your no instructions streak is over." Matt huffs and snatches the instruction from her grasp, shooting her a sharp look when he hears her snickering. He looks down at the small words and begins to read them, his eyes darting across the page as his tongue pokes out in concentration. As he does so, she takes the time to really examine him.
He had on a white thermal along with some grey sweatpants, his hair was a bit messy from how many times he ran his fingers through it, and he just looked
good.
"I think I got it!" His shouts of excitement brought her out of her daze, her eyes trailing down to the paper pamphlet falling to the floor. She sits on her knees and moves closer, their faces side by side as he puts the Lego piece in its correct spot. His hands moved quickly as he put the other parts together, his body bouncing in excitement.
It doesn't take long for the display to be finished, Matt's head whipping towards her.
"Done! Told you I didn't need the-" His words trail off once he realizes how close she is. She feels his body tense and his breath hitch, his eyes darting between her lips and eyes.
She quickly takes notice, the corners of her mouth twitching gently.
"Do you wanna kiss me?"
Her voice comes out in a teasing whisper, her eyes taunting him. He gives a slight nod, his tongue darting out to lick his dry lips.
"Y-yeah...."
"Then kiss me."
It's cute to her how scared he was, the way he slowly leaned forward and softly placed his lips against hers. She hums and stops him from pulling away, deepening the kiss and taking full control, allowing her tongue to enter his mouth. She pushes him back against the bottom of the couch and climbs into his lap, pressing her chest against his.
She giggles softly feeling his cock begin to harden underneath her, the tent growing bigger and bigger. She grinds against him, enjoying the way he whimpers softly.
She goes to pull his pants down, but he quickly grabs her hands, stopping it from going further.
"W-wait wait! I-I'm sorry, I umm-" He clears his throat as he pulls away from the kiss, his breathing ragged.
"Hey hey-" She caresses his face and chest gently, trying to calm him down. "What are you saying sorry for? We don't have to do anything you don't want to."
"I-I want to I just...." His face turns beet red as he thinks about him being a virgin. He knew that she already knows this information, but having to say it out loud, the thought, It was just embarrassing for him.
"I know, that doesn't bother me Matt."
"I-It doesn't?" He was confused, why would it not bother her? Why isn't it bothering her? Don't girls want a guy who knows what he's doing in the bedroom?
She smiles and plants her lips against his once more, " Nope-" she trails a few kisses up to his ear before whispering,
"- It's the perfect way to teach you what I like."
He can't help the groan that leaves his mouth, the thought of her morphing him into her perfect plaything, her teaching him how to please her....He loved it.
He slowly lets go of her wrists and allows her to pull his sweatpants off along with his boxers. She wastes no time, wrapping her hand around him and slowly jerking him off. He sighs out, the stress and tension in his body fading away with every stroke.
Her thumb swipes over his tip, his lips parting slightly. Her hand felt better than his, it was so soft, smaller than his own.
He's embarrassed with how quick his balls tighten, his dick twitching in her grasp. He was close to cuming, and that's not what she wanted.
She pulls her hand away and moves back, pulling her own pants and underwear off. She settles back down in his lap, grinding their bodies together. Her bare and wet cunt only provide him with more pleasure, his breathing speeding up rapidly.
"Gonna let me ride you?" She asks breathlessly, her own pleasure rising due to his tip nudging her cunt repeatedly. He finds himself nodding eagerly, too excited and lost in pleasure to form a complete sentence.
She smiles and crashes their lips together once more. She situates herself on top of him, lining his tip up with her entrance before sinking down.
It's always the slip-in that gets her.
Her head falls onto his shoulder as his head tilts back onto to couch cushions, her thighs quivering at the stretch.
He was perfect, just as she had thought. He stretched her out just right, filling her up to the point where she found it hard to breathe.
This was a new and exciting feeling for him, it took everything in him not to cum on the spot. Her spongy, wet, and warm walls felt different from the ones inside her mouth, and he didn't know which ones he liked better.
She begins to move back and forth, grinding against him before starting to bounce up and down. Her soft and pretty moans flow through the apartment, making it harder for Matt to think straight. She was like a siren, clouding his mind with her sweet melodic songs, luring him to the ocean for his death.
His hands stay limp at his sides, his fingers twitching as they itch to touch her.
But he was scared, scared that if he did touch her, she'd disappear, and he'd wake up thinking this was all a dream.
"Fffuck Matt, s-so big!" She pants in his ear, her arms wrapped around his neck as she continues to bounce on him.
Her thighs and calves quickly become tired, a pout forming on her face as she looks at him, begging him to help and touch her.
"T-touch me Matt - Shit!- P-please!"
He couldn't say no to that face, he'd be dumb if he did.
So he finally caves, wrapping his arms around her like a bear and helping her keep up with her own movements. He adjusts his legs so they are propped up, and gently begins to buck his hips, meeting her every time she lands on his lap.
She gasps as he hits that special spot deep inside of her, her orgasm getting closer and closer. Their lips connect once more, their tongues messily fighting and their teeth clashing.
He holds her tightly, his fingernails digging into her skin, leaving small indents.
He needed to be closer.
Without a second thought, he removes her shirt, her breast falling free and bouncing in his face. He doesn't know what came over him, but neither of them was complaining.
She throws her head back as he takes one of her nipples into his mouth, and fondles the other. He sucks gently, using his teeth to gently nibble on the skin.
He moans in delight, his eyes closing, his glasses lopsided as he finally gets to experience all that he's been waiting for.
"Shi-it! S-so close, please please please, don't stop!" She begs, urging him to push her over the edge. He follows her directions, not changing anything he's doing, and continuing to pleasure her.
He feels his own orgasm approaching, his whimpers turning into loud and deep moans.
"Fuck, pl-Oh god! M-mommy!" He didn't even realize he said it, but she heard it loud and clear, and it was just enough to push her over the edge.
She moans loudly and falls against his chest, her juices trickling out and down his shaft. The feeling of her walls clamping down on him repeatedly was enough to make him follow her lead, hot spurts of cum painting her insides.
They lay against the couch, the both of them panting softly, still wrapped in each other's embrace. She slowly peels her body away from his and smiles at his flushed cheeks and dazed expression.
"W-was it good?" He asks in between labored breaths, his nerves clear as day. It was obvious he was eager to please her, wanting to hear her praises and words of reassurance.
"You were perfect pretty boy......Can you handle another round?"
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godmadeaterribleerror · 6 hours ago
Text
Falling Into Me
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Read on A03!
Tags: Dean Winchester/Female Reader, Smut (p in v, fingering, oral f receiving), angst, loss of virginity, light fluff, feelings :(, real bad self-image issues
Summary/Warnings: You're a virgin, and it's really not a big deal. Everyone was a virgin once. You're just a virgin longer. Maybe forever, because nobody really seems to be willing to solve that problem for you.
You've never told Sam and Dean, and you don't have any intention to. Ever. But when a hunt goes wrong, Dean finds out. And he might have been keeping something from you as well.
Author's Note: This might be the horniest thing I've ever written. Enjoy <3!
Title from Red Wine Supernova by Chappell Roan
Word Count: 8.9k
You haven’t slept in three days, and it’s starting to be a problem. But you can’t afford to sleep. You can only drink staler and staler coffee, sit at the motel table, and pretend this is a case that, somehow, you’re going to solve. That Dean isn’t grumpier than usual, and Sam doesn’t constantly look like he’s going to kill the next person that dares to have an incorrect idea. It’s why you volunteered for the next round of interviews. You don’t want to be there when one of them snaps and kills the other, and while you wouldn’t love to return to the room and find it covered in blood, at least then you’d have an excuse to call it.
You wouldn’t call it. You’d work the case until it was done, because that’s what you do. And Sam and Dean won’t kill each other, because they’re Sam and Dean. That said, you are expecting a pouting Dean to pacing back and forth outside the room as he waits for you to return, and a grumble about how Sammy said he was being annoying and needed to walk it off. You’re more than prepared to give him a sympathetic smile and ask him if he was being annoying. And he’ll probably protest that he wasn’t, and you’ll raise your brows, and he’ll admit he mighta been drumming really loud while eating the chips.
It’s not an unreasonable expectation. None of you have slept, because this thing is insane. There’s no obvious pattern to the victims, no connections, nothing in line with everything you’ve ever seen. It’s men and woman, a wide age range, no previous coflicts or knowledge of each other in life. There are holes through theirs chests that could be bullet wounds, but obviously aren’t, because Bullets don’t remove the heart from the body. But it’s not werewolves, because werewolves aren’t clean killers like this and every fucking person in this stupid town has passed the silver test. There’s a new kill every night, and a new body every morning, and another reason for you, Sam, and Dean to start screaming every day. Every hour makes you all wired, because it’s closer and closer to another evening where you won’t have caught this asshole and another person will die.
And it’s become really easy to get on each other’s nerves. Sam was mad at Dean because he’d purposefully gotten you all burgers instead of Sam’s rabbit food, you’re mad at Sam because he said you were bad at poker—and you are, but what the fuck—and Dean’s mad at you because-
Dean’s not mad at you. You and Dean don’t really get mad at each other. You understand each other, better than you’ve ever understood anyone else, and it’s the perfect amount of alike that you’ll lend him grace you wouldn’t lend anyone else—including yourself—but you don’t see enough of your own twisting, molding innards to hate him. You mostly see something better. A man that has all the same rotting parts, but has made something out of them while you just waste away in toxins.
And you think Dean sees something similar in you. It’s why you’d been obnoxiously chewing potato chips, right in his ear, and he hadn’t punched you or snatched the bag away from your hands. He’d just rolled his eyes, grabbed one of his own, and started chewing in Sam’s ear.
So you hadn’t really volunteered for interviews so much as been aggressively told by Sam you were doing interviews. And it was only fair Dean met the same fate.
But he hadn’t. And when you opened the door to the room, they both looked happy. 
Dean practically shouts your name when he sees you, wildly gesturing for you to join them at the table. “Sammy found it!” He grins at you almost manically, and it’s a little adorable. “We can finally fucking leave.”
“I might have found it,” Sam corrects, his smile a little more tentative, but still real. “And we can’t leave yet. Not until we actually get the thing-“
“Obviously, dude, but that’ll be soon, instead of in a million years.” Dean looks to you for agreement. “I mean, c’mon. You guys can’t really wanna stay in hicktown Ohio forever?”
You shrug. “I dunno. Good coffee.”
Dean glares at you. “The coffee tastes like ass and you freakin’ know it-“
“Dean.” You give him a flat look. “Do I actually get to know what the monster is?”
Sam sighs. “You’re not gonna like it.”
“I already don’t love it, it’s a monster that’s killed like, ten people-“
“Worse than that.” Dean lets out a dry chuckle. “It’s sorta like a dragon.”
You, very suddenly, don’t feel really well. Everything is hotter than it had been a second ago, and the walls seem to be closing in as your skin begins to prickle and ache. “Like a dragon?” You ask, forcing your voice to remain steady. “Or a dragon?”
“Like a dragon. Tell her, Sammy.”
Sam shoots Dean a glare—not happy being thrown under the bus—and mutters, “It’s a unicorn.”
You stare at him for a long minute, then shake your head. “It’s a what.”
“Unicorn.” Sam mumbles. “They’re, uh, looks like they’re real.”
“But not Pinky Pie and Disney.” Dean adds, turning Sam’s laptop for you to read. “Real fucking assholes.”
“They hunt virgins.” Sam explains. “To bond with. And it’ll kill anyone who falsely lures it.”
“Stab the poor son of a bitch right through the heart, then pull that sucker right out.” Dean adds, spreading his legs and propping his elbows on his knees. “And it looks like it’ll go after chicks and dudes, any age, so that’s why there’s no pattern. You’re able to fuck, you’re fair game.”
“Oh, cool.” You mutter, a lump starting to form in your throat. “I’m always looking for equal opportunity murderers in the monsters I hunt.” 
“Yeah, well, it’s gonna make it a little harder to find the thing.” Sam grabs his laptop back, frowning at the screen. “It’ll take a human form, then look for a virgin. And it won’t be able to tell until it gets the person’s heartbeat up, so it might be a guy or a girl, depending on who it’s hunting tonight.”
“But,” you glance at Dean, who’s grinning as you start to put it together. “It is hunting tonight.”
“Hunts every night.” Dean says, rubbing his hands together. “And we don’t know where, but we can take some guesses. Split up and look at all the bars in town ’till one of us finds something, then gank this douchebag and get the hell out of here.”
“Split up?” You whisper, something wired and flailing coiling around your guts. “That’s, um, shouldn’t we stick together? If it’ll go after anyone?”
“Not everyone.” Same shrugs. “Low, uh, body counts. I guess. Low enough that it can’t tell immediately.”
“So we just need a bunch of whores?"
Dean snorts. “Well tonight,” he spreads his arms, shooting you a wink that really isn’t helpful right now. “We’re the whores, Sweetheart. We’re safe, and we’re going to kick some unicorn ass.”
It’s a cheesy, stupid thing to say, and usually you’d laugh and crack a joke back. Something about unicorn ass and whores that you can’t really think of right now, because there’s bile in your throat and something heavy fogging over your brain.
“How do we, uh,” your tongue is numb in your mouth, and every word is dragged out of your throat. “How do we kick a unicorn’s ass.”
“Well, we’re looking for electrical malfunctions, golden eyes when it gets, uh, excited, and a refusal to drink anything but water.” Sam frowns at the screen, looking up at you with a half-shrug. “Anything amoral seems to knock it down, so just, uh, swear? Then shoot it with iron. Iron kills it.”
“And, um,” you swallow, tugging at the fabric of your sleeves. “What’s gonna to the virgin? If the unicorn finds it?”
Sam sighs. “They, uh, they seem to use them.”
Dean frowns, leaning around to try and read the screen. “Use them-“ 
“Their purity. Use their purity.” Sam raises his brows, and you can see the exact moment it clicks in Dean’s head. 
“That’s...” Dean trails off, running a hand over his face. “Shit.” 
Sam mutters an agreement, and your mouth feels like sandpaper, your heart beating like it’s trying to escape your chest.
“And after?” You whisper, a little unsure you want to actually ask the question, or know the answer. “After they’re used?” 
“Well, they’re not ‘pure’ anymore.” Sam puts an air quote around pure, and you feel a little sick. “So, uh, stab.”
“Oh.” You nod slowly. You might need to lie down. “Stab.”
Dean looks over you with a drawn brow, his voice low and cautious as he says your name. “Are feelin’ okay-“
“I’m fine.” You remember how to smile, and hope it looks real. Not like your teeth are starting to feel out of place in your mouth, and you can’t seem to find enough spit to choke on. “Let’s get the unicorn ass.”
Dean doesn’t look convinced. Hell, Sam doesn’t look convinced. But they both let it go for now, and you can breathe just a little easier knowing you’re not barreling towards a fight.
But only a little easier. 
Because you’re fucked.
Virginity is a funny thing. It’s just a social construct, but it’s a social construct some monsters seem to take as scripture, making it a hazardous thing to still have in your line of work. 
And you hadn’t meant to be a hazard. It just kind of happened. Because it started as something that was a given to have, then turned into something that you just were a little too busy to lose, before becoming an awkward conversation you’re not willing to have. Something that hangs, silent and sharp, over your head and around your throat. Something that’s now a question of why? Why is it never you? You’re not ugly. You’re even pretty enough that, if you tell someone, they won’t believe you and it’ll all feel worse. You’re even pretty enough that you’ve seen people size you up at bars, but none of them ever approach you.
So it might just be you. You might just have something on your face that gives away that you’re more trouble than you’re worth, a little too rough to touch and not have it sting, telling people stay away. 
And Sam and Dean will never know. You’re already a little younger, a little worse of a hunter, a small problem when they’re obviously trying to take someone to their bed but the girl sees you and makes quick and inaccurate assumptions. Sam is better at brushing them off—She’s like my little sister—but Dean gets red and awkward and suddenly loses all his well-practiced charm. He sulks back to the table, and won’t look you in the eyes for an hour or walk with you back to the bar. You’re honestly shocked neither of them have thrown you to the curb by now, an you’re not going to give them another reason to. Another reason for Sam to make a sad, puppy-eyed pity face and Dean to stare at you like he’s not sure you’re real. Like there’s no way someone could’ve possibility survived as a hunter like this. 
And a small, well-contained part of you wishes Dean would look at you the way he looks at other women. Like they still have beautiful, horrible secrets that he’d love to uncover with only his hands and mouth. 
You’ve got secrets. Dean can’t have them—because they’re a liability and you’re not looking to lose him forever—but you really wish he’d just look at you. Once, really look at you, and not see you. See something so much better, that you think he’s always a little close to finding, that nobody else ever seems willing to try and look for.
You’re a little grateful they left you alone in this backwater dive bar. It would hurt to watch Dean flirt right now, when everything feels raw and wired in your body, and every time someone drops next to you at the bar you feel more and more sick. There are quick, polite conversations with random strangers who sound like they’d rather be anywhere than here, with you, and by the time you’ve repeated your cover story for the eighth time your lungs are wrapped iron and your nails feel like a burden on your fingers.
It’ll be over by tonight. All three of you know what you’re looking for, so the unicorn will be dead before sunrise, and you won’t have to do any explanations about why you’ve been quiet and tense since Dean said like a dragon. Nobody will look at you with pity or confusion, nobody will get hurt, and you won’t end up with a hole in your heart as the only people that have ever seen you to be worth something realize just how wrong they were. That you’re really just a small, useless burden that even a literal monster wouldn’t be able to stomach the presence of-
“You here all by yourself?”
Something sparks in your gut at the voice, coming from off to the side, because for a second you really think it’s Dean. It’s deep, moves through your whole body, and knocks loose something in your lower gut that always makes you feel hungry, but it’s not Dean. When you turn, the man next to you looks like someone ran Dean through a printer too many times and he came out faded. A little too short, not quite as broad, all the pretty scars that make Dean Dean seemingly vanished, and a gleam in his eyes that Dean’s never had. It’s a little more feral, without any playfulness or glowing shadows. Too much yellow instead of green, the cocky smirk just a little off, none of it right. None of it Dean.
“I’m, um,” you frown, because this man even smells like Dean. “I’m waiting for a friend. He’s running late.”
Not-Dean clicks his tongue. “Shame, leaving a pretty girl like you all alone. You want some company until your boyfriend shows up?”
You shake your head, turning your glass around in your hand. “Not my boyfriend. And I’m actually…” You trail off, your eyes falling on the man’s own glass. The clear liquid inside. “You drinking vodka?”
“Am I- Oh, sure.” The man chuckles, raising his drink for you to click. “Here’s to not-boyfriends-“
“Can I have some?”
You watch the man carefully as he looks between you and the glass. “Nah, sweetie, you don’t want this, it’s some strong stuff-“
Sweetie. Not sweetheart. Not Dean, not right, not safe. And something is starting to crawl over your skin and shoot up your spine, making you sit a little taller as your heart pounds louder and louder. 
As Not-Dean licks his lips, and scans over you with yellow eyes that might be shining. 
Fuck.
“I, um, I’m gonna go call my friend.” You start to shift off your seat, pulling your phone slowly out of your pocket. “He should’ve been here a few minutes ago, and I’m worried-“
“C’mon, you haven’t even told me your name.” Not-Dean wiggles his brows, and it looks wrong on his face. “Bet I can guess, if you give me a hint-“
“No, it’s fine, my name is, uh…” you look down at your phone, the screen completely black. You’d charged it before you left.
“Your name?” Not-Dean prompts, grabbing your arm. Holding you near him, at the bar. “I’d really love to learn it. I could teach you a few things in exchange-“
“I was never given a name!” Your voice is a frantic shout, Not-Dean’s eyes narrow, and you do the only thing you can think of. Punch Not-Dean square in the face, yank your arm from his grip, and run. Fucking sprint out of the bar and not allow yourself to falter as you hear a roar that’s a little hoarse and off pitched. Like a horse keen. Like a wounded animal.
Like a monster.
Splitting up had been a terrible fucking idea. Now you’re alone, you don’t have even an idea where Sam and Dean are, and you can’t afford to stop and jack a car because you can hear it in the distance. Hooves, clapping against the pavement, getting closer and closer as you begin to run out of breath. You can’t hide, it can hear you, and you can’t go faster because you already feel faint and everything is beginning to collapse in your body. Muscles tightening and skin crawling and eyes pushing out of your skull, every breath too shallow and every step too short. 
You fall to your knees behind a truck, wrapping a hand around your own throat and trying to force your heartbeat back down. Slow, even breathes that come out in choked gasps, nails digging into your skin as the hooves slow, and you hear a low sputtering sound from somewhere behind you. 
And it’s too quiet. You can’t hear anything but your blood in your ears, and all you can see in the night is the flickering yellow light of a streetlamp in the distance. You squeeze your eyes shut and swallow every breath, hoping you can force yourself out before the unicorn finds you. You don’t want to be used. You don’t want to be alone. You just want Dean, where’s Dean, why the fuck did you let him leave you alone, why didn’t you tell him the truth, why can’t you think of anything else but Dean, where’s Dean-
There’s something hot on your neck, and a large presence at your side. Something like spit is being splattered on your neck, and you can’t contain the vomit when a too-rough hand trails up your arm-
“Get the fuck back, you son of a bitch!”
A loud bang cuts through the air—making you jump out of your skin as a heavy body slumps onto yours—and it sounds like church bells and music. It sounds like Dean. That’s his voice shouting your name, his arms wrapping around your body and carrying you away from the unicorn, his breath fanning over your face as he sits you on the curb and starts to turn your face in his hands.
“Fuck, never should’ve left you, but I didn’t-“ Dean cuts himself off with a huff, and you think he’s talking to himself more than you. “Did the asshole touch you anywhere I can’t see?”
You shake your head, keeping your eye glued shut as you curl your hands in Dean’s shirt. Maybe Dean’s shirt. Not-Dean had been wearing plaid too, and you don’t have the nerve or will to open your eyes and seen if it’s your Dean, or the cheap unicorn knockoff.
“Shit, sweetheart, I need you to talk to me. Sam’s on his way, but we gotta get you out of here-“
“Didn’t touch me.” You whisper, fighting every urge into your body to curl forwards and start sobbing weak and pointless apologies. “I’m okay.”
“You’re okay? You think, fuck-“ Dean’s arm—bigger, warmer, maybe actual Dean—loops around your waist, his voice a little closer to your ear. “Need you to hold onto me, got it? We’re goin’ back to the car, and you gotta, fuck, can you open your damn eyes?”
They fly open, almost on command, and it’s Dean. The smell of whiskey is stronger, more authentic, and his face is sharp in all the right places, and it’s really Dean. 
And he looks pissed. His touch on your body is careful, and his eyes are attentive and sparked with worry, but his jaw is clenched, and his every word is suddenly pushed through his teeth.
“You’re gonna hold onto me.” He orders, holding your wide-eyed gaze with a glower. “I’ll take a better look at you when we get back to the room-“
“Dean, I’m fine-“
“And,” Dean barrels on, as if he didn’t even hear you. “We’re going to have a chat. You’re, I can’t-” he shakes his head scooping you fully into his arms. “Just hold on.”
He sounds pissed. Dean’s rigid and silent the whole ride back to the hotel, his grip white-knuckled and tight on the wheel, and you feel even worse than before. This is it. He had to save you, and he’s going to learn why he had to save you, and he might not kick you out but he won’t look at you the same again. No more ease or awe or comfort or understanding, because Dean’s rotten in places where the mold can be burned away with every good part of him, but you’re just rotten. Just a hideous thing that roars in your chest, just angry and cowardlyand revolting and wrong. You’re just wrong. 
All the panic and paralyzing adrenaline had left your body, so you push yourself out of the Impala on unsteady feet. Dean mutters something about Sam dealing with all the cleanup as he opens to motel room door, watching you shuffle inside with clenched fists and an unreadable expression. You flop onto the bed with a small whine, your body beginning to drown in exhaustion, your gaze locked on the peeling paint of the ceiling as Dean moves around the room out of your view.
“Why’d you come back?” You ask, your voice hoarse and weak, and Dean lets out a long, low exhale from somewhere off to the side.
“You were actin’ really weird.” He grunts. “Didn’t sound like yourself. Weren’t laughing at my jokes, or making fun of Sam. Looked sick every time one of us said stab.”
“I could’ve just been-“
“Don’t.” He snaps, and you crane your neck to see him at the foot of the bed, arms crossed and looking at you. Dean seems to be really looking at you, all of you, and you suddenly really wish he would stop. You’re complete exposed below him, under his glare, and he’s going to see something he hates. Something you don’t have a name for that you’ve never wanted him to see, never wanted him to find. The thing that makes everyone else look away.
But Dean’s attention is like a drug, and you need him to stop before you lose him, but you also never want him to stop watching you. It’s confusing and raw and makes you feel like a live wire, one word or touch or stare away from snapping and bursting into a million sparks.
And Dean’s still looking at you. 
“I didn’t,” you swallow, his eyes like a magnet on yours. “I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry-“
“Don’t.” He repeats, his voice lower. Harsher. “You’re not injured.”
You shake your head.
“Good. We need to talk.”
“Dean, I-“
“I’m asking the questions.” Dean leers over you slightly, and you nod again. “Why the fuck did that unicorn seem like it was hunting you.”
He knows the answer. His whole face is already painted in anger, and you know he knows. He just wants to hear you say it.
“Because it was hunting me.”
“Unicorns only hunt virgins.” Dean grunts your name, still not looking away. “You’re not-“
“I am.” You mumble, folding your arms over your own body as you drop back down onto the mattress. “Sorry.”
“Why would you say, fuck- Why in goddamn hell wouldn’t you tell me and Sam-“
“Tell you and Sam what?” You scowl at the ceiling. “That I’m untouched? Pure? Boring-“
“That you’d be in danger!” Dean all but roars, and you don’t flinch, but you do cringe. All the mold in your body feels as if it’s spreading like cancer, because Dean would never hurt you with his hands, but he might be about to curb stomp your heart with only his mouth. “I don’t give a shit about the virgin thing, I care that you were so fucking stupid to go off alone, that you didn’t trust me enough-“
“It’s not about trust, Dean,” you sigh, squeezing your eyes shut again. “And it’s not like you tell me everything-“
“I do! I’ve told you about all the shit in my past, and my fear of flying, and Rhonda Hurley, and that weird freaking dream I had with the mice in top hats-“
“That’s not the same!” You’re pushing back up on your palms, raising your voice to match Dean’s. You just need him to stop yelling at you, to rip the band-aid off and finally give up on you so you can rest. “This isn’t your business-“
“It’s my business if it’s gonna get you fucking killed, Sweetheart. And I coulda helped you-“
“Helped me?” You scoff. “I don’t need your help with this, Winchester, I’ve come to terms with it-“
There was a brief moment where Dean had looked like you’d kicked him, but it vanishes in a second as he gapes at you in disbelief. “To terms with virginity?”
“Yeah,” you shrug, holding his suddenly slack expression with your own glare. “Nobody wants me, it’s not a big deal-“ 
Dean snorts. “There’s no damn way you’re that stupid-“ 
“I am not stupid-“ 
“Yeah? Cause you’re a fucking idiot if you think nobody wants you.”
It’s your turn to gape at him. Your heart stumbles slightly in your chest, your fingers curling into bedsheets, and the world begins to spin as you try and understand his words. “What?”
“You,” Dean takes a firm step forward, drawing your name. “Are a fucking idiot if you think that there’s not one damn person on the planet who wants you.” 
“But-“
“Nah. No freakin’ buts.” He’s closer now, his knees bumping yours as he glowers down at you. “I’ve watched too many hair-gelled losers at bars size you up like they wanna take a bite for you to have buts. Hell, I’ve-“ Dean shakes his head, running a hand over his face. “Shit, there’s just, there’s no way-“
Your face twists back into a scowl. “Fuck off, Dean. It doesn’t matter if you believe me-“
“Oh, I believe you, Sweetheart.” Dean’s eyes flash, nostrils flaring as a low groan leaves his chest, rolling through the air and settling between your legs in an aching heat. “And I finally fucking get it. You just, you have no idea. I thought you just didn’t want it, but you’re just- Shit-“
“Dean,” your voice is soft, a little breathless, and can’t help but rub your thighs together as his hands start to flex at his sides. “I don’t know what you’re talking about-“
“I know,” he mutters, scanning over your body with an almost predatory expression. “I’m not, I just gotta,” his gaze flies back to yours, his voice suddenly stern. “Sam tell you how the unicorn choses its form?”
You blink. “Wha-“
“It takes the form that will be most appealing to the target. To help the asshole get attention quickly. That unicorn,” his voice drop, deeper than you’ve ever heard it, and it takes all the will you have to not start fall back into in the sheets. “Looked kinda like me.”
“I, um, I don’t-“
“Do you want me?” Dean grunts your name, and you make the mistake of dropping your gaze down, to his pants. To where an impressive outline is straining against his jeans. 
“I’d, I mean, I’m not-“ You swallow, everything a dizzying haze of Dean. “Yeah, I think, but you’re not-“
“I’m not what?” He growls, kneeling down to your eye level, trailing a slow hand up your thigh. “Not interested?”
 “Yeah?”
“Wrong.” Dean’s hand moves higher, trailing closer and closer to your center before running back down to your knee. “So incredibly wrong, Sweetheart. I’ve wanted you since, fuck, since I first saw ya’. But you didn’t seem to want me, so I backed off, but if you just didn’t-“ He pauses, his brilliant green eyes suddenly tearing into your soul, unraveling you before he’s even touched bare skin. “Do you? Want me?”
“I already said-“
“You said yeah.” He mutters, rubbing his hand is a slow pattern on your knee. “Need you to say the full thing, before I do anything else.”
Dean’s face is suddenly softer, with something that aches and tugs on your own heart shining through his eyes, and you couldn’t lie to him if you tried. You can lie to yourself, but you can’t lie to Dean. It feels cruel, and wrong, and as if you’d be denying yourself something so good and rare it will never be replicated if you walk away now. 
“I want you,” you whisper. “I’ve wanted you. But I’m not, it’s not going to be good for you. I mean, I know how to take care of that,” you point to the bulge in his pants, pressed slightly against your calf as he crouches before you, and Dean frowns. “But I’ve never, um, you know-“
“You’re not takin’ care of anything.” He says, scanning over your open face with drawn brows. “We’re doing this, it’s gonna be about you.”
“Oh.” There’s a little drool falling out of your mouth, Dean reaches up to swipe it away with his thumb, and your voice becomes a squeak. “Okay.”
“If you really wanna,” his mouth curves into a smirk, and you need it on yours now. “Next time, I’ll let you go to town on Little Dean.”
You can’t stop the small giggle escaping your lips, and it turns into a full laugh as Dean’s own grin grows, and nothing really feels that bad anymore. “Little Dean?”
“Compared to the rest of me, yeah.” Dean does a loose gesture at his broad, strong body, his grin growing cocky. Hungry. Starved. “But trust me, gorgeous. Ain’t nothing little about him.”
Your eyes widen, your thighs rubbing together as the need for him becomes almost unbearable, and Dean lets out a deep, low chuckle. 
“You want me, babygirl?”
You nod, and Dean’s eyes narrow as he squeezes his hand on your leg. 
“Need you to say it-“
“Yeah.” You whisper. “Yes, please.”
A grin splits over Dean’s handsome face, and his hand drifts to your stomach, his eyes never leaving yours as he drawls your name. “I’m gonna need to get you ready, so just,” he pushes you slightly, and you fall flat on your back, moving your own hands to hold his against you. “Stay there, look pretty, and let me work.”
You nod, your vision already a little blurred with desire as you stare at the ceiling. Dean draws back, shuffling around at the edge of the bed, and you look up to see his shirt gone. It’s all warm, slightly golden and freckled skin, strong and soft in all the right places. His muscles flex as he takes a long, deep breath, and big, calloused hands lowering to trace over your midriff, his eyes never leaving yours.
“What’d I say about stayin’ there-“
“I, um,” you gasp a little as his hand slips under your shirt, bunching the material and starting to slowly pull it over your chest. “I’ve done other stuff. Just so you know. And I’ve done things to myself-“
“I bet you have,” Dean mutters, wrapping an arm around your waist, holding you carefully against him as he helps you out of your clothing. “Shit, Sweetheart, you’re so damn beautiful. Can’t wait to taste you, touch you, fucking ruin you-“
You let out a high, needy moan, burying your face in his neck and mumbling against his skin. “Please, Dean, just-“
You cut yourself off with a gasp as his free hand slips into your pants, cupping your pussy over the fabric of your underwear and rubbing back and forth so torturously slow you might fly out of your skin.
“So wet for me already,” he grunts, tugging on your hair until you lean back, meeting his gaze. “Ready?”
You’re not sure what you need to be ready for, but as long as it’s Dean doing it, you’re good. You nod, wrapping your arm around his neck in silent affirmation, and Dean pulls back to pop open the button of your jeans with a single hand, offering himself easier access.
Two broad fingers toy with the hem of your panties, Dean’s eyes almost glittering as his attention falls to where he’s touching you. Watching your body shiver when he glides his thumb over your clothed slit, your hips jerk when he presses down on your clit, your legs stretch as wide as they can when he starts to rub small circles against you.
“Dean,” you whine, your free hand moving to cup his jaw, trying to move his gaze back to yours. “Please, shit-“
“That feel good, babygirl?” Dean starts to quicken his movements, adding small, teasing flicks and pinches that make your eyes roll back in your head. “You like me teasin’ you? Playin’ this pretty fuckin’ pussy until you’re soaked- Fuck-“
You start to grind on Dean’s hand, trying to chase relief while showing him that he didn’t need to play with or tease you. He has you, unraveled on his fingers and desperate for more of him, all of him, whatever he can offer you that will feel like this-
“Shit, you’re dripping.” Dean’s movement on your clit still as he drags his thumb down, resting right over your aching, already sensitive cunt, and pressing into you just enough to make you whimper. “I gotta taste you, Sweetheart, c’mon.”
His gaze shoots back to yours, something a little animalistic in his low, hoarse voice that almost makes you cum on the spot. “Need you hold on, pretty girl, we’re gonna get you out’a these.”
You nod, letting Dean lay you back down on the mattress, lifting your hips as he drags your jeans off your body, taking your underwear with them. Leaving to totally, completely naked on the bed. Vulnerable, entirely at his mercy, with not another place you’d wish to be in the world.
Dean crawls slightly over you, one of his hands tracing up your stomach, palming at your breasts, then rolling your nipple between two, rough, expert fingers. You gasp, arching slightly off the bed, and a low, deep groan rolls from Dean’s chest.
“Holy fuck, Sweetheart. You’re,” Dean cuts himself off, dropping his mouth to your other breast and latching plump, slightly chapped lips around your nipple. Your vision starts to line with light that might be angels coming to take you away, because this has to be heaven. This is better than heaven. Heaven wouldn’t allow such sinful things as Dean groaning against your skin, his boner pressing into your thigh, or his hand kneading at your ass. Someone shouldn’t be allowed to feel this good. This feels like everything, and blissfully nothing, and mostly just Dean.
You must have moaned his name, because he crashes up, fisting a hand in your hair as he pulls you into a sloppy kiss. All teeth and spit and burning need. Dean tastes like coffee and whiskey and syrup and fruit when he shoves his tongue down your throat, and he smells like gunpowder and leather as his weight hold you easily down, and his lips are so soft but so demanding as he practically devours you, and you’re high. He’s not even inside you yet and you’ll never have enough. This isn’t more than what you’ve done before, but Dean’s ruined you with just teasing touches and wet, starved kisses, and you’re starting to worry you might ascend when he actually fucks you.
He starts to kiss and suck a line over your jaw, down your neck, and between your breasts. It’s heavy and wanting, but still so carefully coordinated. Every move Dean makes seems to be calculated, because he nips at your collarbone right as he tugs on your hair, and the sound that leaves you is high and undignified and exactly what he wanted. His chuckle rumbles in his chest—now pressed against your stomach—and all you can do is moan as he continues his perfect torture. Licking one nipple as he pinches the other, dragging two fingers through your folds as he kisses down the plane of your stomach, stopping right at the apex of your thighs with glittering eyes and firm hands, slowly guiding your legs open.
“Shit.” He mutters, warm breath right over your pussy, making your hips jerk slightly. “Goddamn, baby, you’re responsive.“ A wide, smug grin overtakes Dean’s face as he pushes one finger into your pussy, and you squeak. “I’ve been waiting for this.” He growls your name, and starts to pump that finger in and out, the pace so slow and almost painfully good. “God, you have fucking idea how long- How bad-“ Dean groans as you squeeze around him, and adds another finger. “You’re making such pretty sounds, babygirl, better than I ever imagined. Shit, you’re sexier than a fucking dream.”
His eyes drift back to yours, and shiver goes up your spine from how Dean’s looking at you. Really looking at you. Watching your writhe in the sheets and plead for him in weak gasps, watching you at your most vulnerable state, and grinning like he loves what he sees. Like he’s never seen anything better.
“Dean,” you gasp as his fingers pick up speed, starting to scissor inside your dripping cunt, bumping against a tender spot inside of you that seems to sing under his touch. “Oh my god, Dean, please-“
“Such pretty sounds,” Dean grins at you, crooking his fingers against that same spot to rub. “Let’s see if we can make some more.”
Without further warning Dean drops back down, latches his lips onto your clit, and sucks it right into his mouth like candy. It’s almost immediate, how he pulls you from warm pleasure to raw, almost feral desperation. You’re right on the edge, grinding on his face as his stubble burns your inner thighs in the best was possible, his tongue flicking over that pulsing bundle of nerves, his fingers reaching a demanding and brutal pace-
“Fuck, I’m-“ You let out a loud moan as Dean growls against you, pulling at his short, soft hair to try and both move him away as you dangle over the drop, and urge him on to let him catch you when you fall. “Close, Dean, I’m close, please-“
He pulls away, and you almost scream from the loss. You even force yourself up to glare at him, but you’ve barely gotten a steady balance when a high, needy breath escapes you at the sight of him. 
Dean’s towering over you, his pants discarded into another corners of the room, stroking his massive, fully-erect cock in one hand as he scans over your sweaty, flushed body. 
“I wanna fuck you dumb, babygirl.” He grunts, and you can’t really hear him your own Dean-addled brain, so you just gape and moan, and he chuckles. “Shit, looks like we’re already halfway there. You got any words for me-“
“Dean, please.” The words start to fall out of your mouth with the slight drool on your chin, almost as if he’d commanded them. “Please, I need you, need you so bad-“
You spread your legs in offering, and Dean groans. “Fuck, Sweetheart, you can’t just-“ He closes his eyes, running a hand over his face, and there’s a moment before he speaks again where you worry you’ve ruined it. That you’d shown too much, or Dean saw too much, but no matter what this is over before you can even get that huge, glorious cock inside of you- 
“I’m sorry-“
Dean frowns, his brow drawn as he looks down at you. “What the hell are you sorry for.”
“I dunno, I’m just not-“ You swallow. “I’m not good at this, I don’t know what to say-“
He grunts your name, prowling over your body under your trapped between his strong body and the bed, unable to escape his intense, searing gaze. Looking at you, examining you, and not flinching or moving away. “You,” he says, tracing one gentle hand over your cheekbones. “Are fuckin’ amazing at this.” 
You can only gape at him, so he keeps going.
“I’m the one that might fuck this up, Sweetheart. You’re so,” he makes a loose gesture to your body, and you really wish he’d use words, but the look of sheer awe in his eyes will be enough for now. “And I get to do this for you, and I’m not trying to blow my load before you even cum once.”
“I almost came.” You offer him a small smile, your fingers tracing over the sharp line of his jaw. “But you stopped me.”
He lets out a dry chuckle. “Yeah, well, I’m plannin’ to make that up to you. If you still-“
“I want it.” You cut him off quickly, rolling your hips up, right against his cock. “Please, Dean, I really want it.”
He squeezes his eyes shut, dropping a little further down. “Are you-“
“I’m sure.” You guide Dean’s lips back to yours in a soft, almost sweet kiss, and say the words you really hope will snap whatever leash he’s put on himself. “I want you.”
It works. Something flashes in Dean’s eyes, and his hand snakes between your bodies, finding your clit and rolling it in slow circles as he growls in your ear.
“Wanna feel you, babygirl. Fuck you raw. I’m clean, but if you want me to grab a rubber you’re gonna need to keep yourself going while I-“
“No!” You almost yelp, wrapping your arms around him in a desperate attempt to keep him above you. “I mean, I’m clean too, obviously, and I take birth control just for like, lady stuff-“
Dean raises his brows at you. “Lady stuff?”
“It kinda helps with period cramps and-“ You cut yourself off with a moan as Dean flicks your clit, tossing your head back you start to squirm, trying to catch him into you. “Fuck, Dean, please just fuck me-“
“You mean like this?” Dean guides the head of his cock inside you, and your mouth falls open in a silent scream. “Fuck ya’ like this, baby?”
You grind on him, scratching at his back as you plead. “Shit, that’s, Dean that’s good, more-“
“More, baby? You need more already?” His grin is shit-eating, and you’d hit him if the dark look of lust in his eyes, the baritone of his voice being several octaves lower than you’ve ever heard it, and the throbbing ache of him starting to split you open wasn’t rending your limbs only putty in his arms.
“Dean, please-“
You might stop breathing as Dean guides himself fully into you, settling his face in your neck as he bottoms out. There’s a long moment where it’s only Dean’s warmth over and inside you as he gives you time to adjust, groaning against your skin as you squeeze around him.
“Shit, Sweetheart, you’re so tight.” He kisses right behind your ear. “Feel, fuck, feel so good around my cock, so fuckin’ good-“ He emphasizes his words with one, short thrust that pushes him right against that one spot and makes you whine. “You ready, baby? Ready for me to pound this tight little pussy until you cum all over my cock-“
You almost yank him back down into a desperate, borderline feral kiss, because if he kept talking you might have cum from just the sound of his low, rough voice growling in your ear and rumbling in your chest.
Dean takes a long, ragged breath when he pulls away, and you roll your hips only once. Just enough for him to groans and fall back over you, kissing and sucking on your skin like he thinks you’ll vanish if he doesn’t mark you with his touch. 
Then he starts to move, and you were right. This is heaven. Dean’s moving so slow, pulling almost all the way out before driving back inside, until you’re fully impaled on him—his cock pressed fully against that one spot, making your whole body feel warm and alight, and your head feel a little dizzy—then repeating the movement again. And again. Over and over, so fucking slow, still leaving softer, slightly uneven kisses along your collarbone and grunts against your skin but-
“Dean,” you gasp his name, your nails digging into the muscles of his broad back as he continues to move on you. “Fuck, Dean, go faster, please-“
He rises up to meet your eyes, an unreadable expression on his face that’s made entirely hunger and want, but edged with something a little stronger you don’t understand. “You sure-“
“Yes.” You’re practically whining, scratching at Dean’s skin as you squirm under him, desperate him to really, properly fuck you. “Please, Dean, feels so good, need more, need you-“
He shakes his head slightly. “Don’t wanna hurt you-“
“Not gonna-” you let out a breathy moan as Dean pushes back into you, the movement a little harsher than before, and so fucking good. “You won’t hurt me, please, Dean, fuck-“
“I’m-“
“You said,” you force your eyes to stay on Dean’s, even as he sits deep into you, cock throbbing against that soft spot and making you see stars. “You said you wanted to fuck me, Dean.” You raise your chin, grinding up into his torso until his throat bobs. “Fuck me.”
A low, primal noise leaves Dean’s mouth, and he fully snaps. You might have screamed his name when he began to move again—ramming into you at an unforgiving pace, creaking the bed and bruising your hips as he grabbed at your skin, molding you perfectly into his touch and body—but he swallows the noise with a deep kiss that makes your eyes go unfocused, your whole body slack and only for Dean to play with as he drags you higher. Slamming against that spot, balls slapping onto your ass, one free hand squeezing at your tits before dragging down your side and finding your clit-
“So fucking good, babygirl.” Dean groans into your mouth, and you think you might be floating or falling or flying, but it doesn’t matter because Dean grunting in your east and slamming into your dripping cunt, and that’s the whole world. “Look so good, all ruined and whiny, such a good fucking girl, taking this cock so well, made to be fucked so fucking pretty-“ He pinches your clit, and you whimper his name. “Wanna cum, baby? Wanna fucking soak this cock-“
“Yes,” you gasp, scratching at his back, muscles rippling as he drills into you. Something in you hopes it leaves a mark. That Dean feels you on his back a little forever, just like you know you’re going to feel him in your pussy and on your neck for the rest of your life. “Feels so good, Dean, feels so fucking good, wanna cum so bad-“
“Beg-“
Dean barely grunts your name before you bite on his upper lip, almost screaming into his mouth. “Please, Dean, please, need to cum, wanna cum so bad-“
“Shit, baby, you’re-“ Dean groans, his pace becoming uneven and thrusts slightly staggered, cock twitching deep inside you as he ruts into your aching, clenching pussy-
Dean flicks your clit once, sending your hips almost flying off the bed, and starts to rub you at a frantic, savage pace. 
“Cum with me.” He growls your name, lips ghosting over yours and you stare at him under, cockdrunk, lidded eyes. “C’mon, baby, cum-“
Your scream is hoarse as your orgasm slams into you like a freight train—pure, drug-like bliss washing over your whole body, a soft haze of Dean settling behind your eyes and over your skin—and Dean roars as he slams open, warmth coating inside you and dripping between your thighs, down your ass, and onto the bed.
Dean rolls over, taking you with him, and remains carefully sheathed inside you as your cunt grows sensitive and your breathing slows back down. It helps that he keeps your ear pressed to his bare chest, where you can hear his heart beating. Calm and steady and strong, just as certain and constant as the man it’s inside. 
As the man had been.
You’re not sure what he’s going to be now.
“That, ah,” Dean breaks the silence, his voice low and almost soft. “That do it?”
You smile against him. “If you mean take my virginity, then yeah, I think you did it-“
“No, I mean was it,” He groans, his arm shifting slightly around as his voice drops. “Was it good. For you.”
“Oh.” You nod slowly, trying not to hum like a needy fucking when Dean starts to run his fingers through your hair. “Yeah. Really good.” You stifle a moan as he twitches inside you. “It was awesome. Good, uh, good job?”
“Thanks, Sweetheart.” You can hear to smug grin in his voice, his free hand starting to rub soothingly on your back. “You were pretty fucking awesome yourself.”
There it is. You were pretty awesome. And he’s still inside you. And you need to know if you were awesome enough for something, anything to stick.
“You said, um,” you swallow, staring at his tattoo because you can’t bear to look at his face right now. “You said I could give you a blowjob next time. Did-“ 
“Did I mean it?” 
You nod nervously, and Dean’s whole chest rumbles with his low laugh, rolling right through your body. He grunts your name, and—when you still don’t look at him—hooks a finger under your chin to guide your gaze to his. 
“Look.” He sighs, and this is it. He did you a favor, and that’s it. He won’t stay, nobody stays, why would Dean Winchester be the one to stay- 
“I get it,” you mumble, and wish you would find the will to make your body roll away from his. “You don’t need to explain-“ 
Dean’s grip on you remains firm, and his voice is a deep, amused drawl. It feels a little cruel in your gut, because you’d have really liked more. More would have been the best. You didn’t even need all of Dean, you’d just have really like more. 
“You get it.” He raises his brows, and you nod again. “Sweetheart, you might want to actually hear the explainin’ part before you say anything.”
“I, um-“
“See, I’m a firm believer that all ladies should ride more than one dick in life. Too much of a good thing, ya know?” He winks at you, thrusting slightly up into you, and you flush. “But, if you’re taking applicants for long-term dicks, I’d have to be dumb not to apply. I’m never gonna complain if I get you all to myself.”
You stare at him, your voice barely a whisper. “So, um, you mean-“
“If you’ll have me,” he mutters. “I’ll take you up on that blowjob offer soon. And any other offers you’ve got.”
“Offers,” you swallow. “For long-term dicks?”
He shrugs—tracing a finger over your arm and refusing to meet your eyes—and it might be your turn to make the move. 
“Dean.” You whisper, crawling up his chest just enough for his eyes to easily find yours. “I’d really like you being my long-term dick.”
He frowns. “Sounds stupid when you say it like that-“
You drop down to press a soft, tentative kiss against his lips, and he tenses for only a second before overtaking you. Deepening the kiss with his tongue pushing on your lower lip, groaning when you open for him without a moment’s hesitation, pinning you onto his chest with big, strong arms as you fall fully into him.
Dean pulls back for only a second, searching over your open expression—all affection and need for him, swollen lips and shallow breaths—until he finds what he’s looking for, and his face splits into a wide grin. 
“If you’re lettin’ me,” he says, tucking a little bit of hair behind your ears. “I think I’ll stay your long-term dick for while, Sweetheart.”
“I’m letting you.” You whisper, a small smile pulling on your own lips. “But we need to come up with a better name than long-term dick.”
“Boyfriend?”
You stare at him for a second, unsure if this is real, because Dean just said that word like it was obvious. Not something he’s adamantly refused to be for anyone, ever, for the entire time you’ve known him. He said it like he was waiting to say it. And, looking at him—unfamiliar hope haunting the very deepest part of those perfect eyes, his grin so genuine but filled with nerves—you think he might have been. And all the money and glory and pleasure in the world couldn’t make you tell him no.
“Yeah,” you whisper. “Boyfriend’s good.” 
Dean’s grin becomes almost boyish, and this last kiss is sweet. It’s a kiss in the rain, or under bleachers, or on a rooftop with nothing but time and peace around you.
And you and Dean have never had either of those things. 
But you’d really like to and find them. And if it’s with Dean, you really think you could.
End Note: Look at Dean. Being Emotional. I'm so proud of him (I made him do that)
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@artemys-ackles @ambiguous-avery @nightxcreature
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xxskyethetiredemoxx · 3 days ago
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I remember when I first heard of trans people. It was through a book my mum bought me for Christmas 2019, when I was 11, about puberty and all that. I doubt, if she knew trans people and gender dysphoria were mentioned in there, she would've bought it for me, but hey.
And trans people were just one of the many things she didn't really talk to me about. I started puberty when I was like 9. I didn't even know that that's what was happening at the time. I only realised looking back once I'd read that book and knew what the fuck puberty even is. I was told I'd get a period at some point. That's about it. Everything else was barely explained to me when it happened.
So no, parents aren't always gonna explain things to their kids on their own terms. If I hadn't heard of trans people from that book, the only perspective I would've known before I went to school at 14 would be extremely negative. And lo and behold, teaching your kids about trans people negatively isn't gonna magically stop them being trans, just how it didn't stop me. If I hadn't had that book, I would've had no clue what was happening to my body. And hey, at least my mum got me a book, some parents don't even do that.
In light of Disney apparently removing a trans character from their new series because “parents prefer to discuss certain subjects with their children on their own terms” here are a list of things my parents had to discuss with me as a child because of kids and adults around me.
Why it was very important to remember which surname to use in which streets in Belfast and not to tell people we were half-Protestant, half-Catholic.
What a lesbo was because a grown woman had a go at my mum that she was “turning that into one” because she let me wear boys clothes.
What faggot meant because the first time I got called that by a classmate I was still learning to spell ‘discuss’.
How to break a grip on my arm from being dragged out of the girl’s bathroom because I was a “boy”.
What a terrorist was when I said we were from Northern Ireland.
Why Cousin John couldn’t meet us in person after surviving a homophobic attack.
How to advocate for myself and get adults to repeat themselves because I was “pretending” to be Deaf.
How to dress a cut after getting my head slammed into gravel because I wasn’t a “real girl”.
And I’m pretty protected and privileged so how nice for you to decide to ignore real people because you don’t want to face that they exist.
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whateversawesome · 11 hours ago
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Spy x Family Ch. 108: Fear
Don't get me wrong, that panel with Twilight remembering his friends was beautiful. I think he feels nostalgic for that connection with other people. However, I think what really caught my attention in this chapter was Melinda.
Come on, look at this:
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Look at this face of terror. And she was just remembering her husband's eyes!
A long time ago, when we just met Melinda, I wrote this theory about her being afraid of her husband. Today, it was finally confirmed.
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I feel so sad for her. Melinda has probably been carrying this alone for a long time. I doubt she's shared her fears with any friends or family members because, who would believe the illustrious political leader could be an abusive man? This is especially true if there's no actual physical violence in the relationship. However, like I said before, violence is more than that.
Something tells me that the violence in their relationship is mostly psychological. Donovan Desmond uses his authority to tell Melinda what to do, to create fear, to keep her away from their children.
Melinda appears as such a composed woman who has her life together in front of others, and only someone as emotionally perceptive and caring as Yor would notice something is wrong. There's a shame component in abusive relationships: "How did this happen to me? I used to be so strong and brave," combined with disbelief: "Am I overreacting? Is he really that bad? Why am I afraid of him if he hasn't really done anything to me?"
Hopefully, in time, Melinda will realize that fear is not only her responsibility; even if her husband wasn't physically abusive, his behavior caused her fear.
Without a doubt is a complicated issue, which brings me to something that will probably complicate things even more:
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Yup, Twilight.
I'll admit that this is the first time that I felt very uncomfortable with what Twilight is about to do, but that's exactly the point. Good fiction/literature is suppose to move something within us, even if at times, it makes us feel uncomfortable.
You probably imagine why: Melinda is a person in dire need of therapy. She deserves (and needs!) a true professional and instead, she getting someone who is only trying to gather information.
HOWEVER...
Time and again, Twilight has shown that despite his line of work, he'll always try to do the right thing and the least amount of harm. So, I'm hoping he will apply that in this specific situation. My guess is that it will start as a way to get information (his classic "for the mission") but then, as Melinda opens up, he will actually give her good advice and hopefully empower her, as a real therapist would do!
Something else to keep in mind is that Melinda story of domestic violence could trigger Twilight himself in some way, given his own family history. We will have to wait to see how that goes.
Bonus
A final note on Melinda's beliefs in occultism: it makes sense.
I won't comment too much on the specific meaning of the cards because my knowledge is limited and I'm skeptical about that. But I will say that it makes sense that someone with so much fear and uncertainty in her life would believe in something that would bring her reassurance that everything will be okay or try to know the future in order to protect herself. (I really want to give Melinda a hug.)
On the other hand, you know who doesn't believe in that?:
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Yup, our dear Becky, who is one of the most authentic character in sxf, who is protected and loved by her parents and Martha. That makes sense too.
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tls12lessthan3 · 2 days ago
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kim dokja and yoo joonghyuk are both so fucking lonely at the beginning of orv it's actually driving me a little crazy. they both see themselves as the only real people in the world in a way that is so incredibly isolating and so clearly bad for them. it makes me want to hit them with hammers.
kim dokja is already such lonely person when we first meet him. like he pretty clearly already had a barrier up between himself and the rest of the world. he sees himself as a 'reader' aka an outside observer whos unable to truly interact with the 'characters' of the world (e.g. yoo sangah). and then that dynamic gets turned literal as twsa comes to life (and suddenly kim dokjas survival depends on his ability to disassociate from others). the dehumanization he hits yoo sangah with ('oh what a perfect protagonist, so distant from me') suddenly extends to like, the entire world, as everyone becomes characters. forget it being just a coping mechanim now hes grappling with real questions about the personhood of everyone around him in a way that is so isolating. combine that with the way his future knowledge keeps him apart from everyone, putting him in a position of power that only increases the distance between him and his companions as he manipulates them like pieces on a chessboard rather than like, friends and you get this overwhelming feeling that kim dokja is the only real person in the world, yknow? the 'reader' has become the 'only son' as the world becomes a novel. and now hes stuck questioning the personhood of everyone around them, forced into situations that either allow or encourage him to discard it - to think of them as characters and little more. which is so isolating!!!
and yoo joonghyuk is in almost the exact same boat! yoo joonghyuk's loneliness comes from his status as a regressor - this is the third turn, and he's starting to realise just how lonely it is to stay the same and keep his memories as everything else regresses and everyone else forgets. life becomes an optimized speedrun rather than, yknow, a life, and everyone is either an obstacle or something to be used. he stops bothering to save people anymore because thanks to the regressions he's losing the ability to even see them as people, in a way that parallels kim dokja's similar inability to see them as more than characters. he's settling uncomfortably into the role of lone pilgrim of the apocalypse, and everyone around him becomes less real as a result. this sense of isolation is compounded, just like with kim dokja, by his knowledge of the future and the lonely position it puts him in, although tbh kim dokja fucks up his plans so bad it's significantly less severe.
so both of them have this incredibly desolate feeling of being the one real person in the world - and they don't know each other well enough to help each other combat that. instead they both move through the world - making plans, manipulating others, even working with each other - as though theyre the only ones in it. which culminates in giving early orv this very lonely feeling, where the two main characters are both incredibly isolated and actively perpetuating that very isolation by centering their identities on being the only real person in the world. and it gives early orv this very eery feeling which i am both discomfited by and enjoying.
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spanktony · 2 days ago
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“LEFTOVERS” - lee doona.
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summary: lee doona was so full of herself and you hated it. until, you understood.
words: 4.2k +
warnings: 18+ g!p reader, p in v, oral (d receiving), doona’s kinda an ass but not really because she’s wifey, and i think that’s all.
notes: once request open back up more doona requests guys 🙏🙏🙏🙏 she’s so underrated
navigation. request.
you had never met someone so full of themselves; well, that was up until the moment you had your first interaction with doona. you had just finished lacing up your sneakers, your compression shirt hugging your torso and your workout pants snug and comfortable.
the day was still cool, perfect for a run, and you were looking forward to clearing your head after a long day of work.
being a server was no joke.
you popped your headphones into your ears, selecting your playlist before closing and locking the main entrance door behind you, completely oblivious to the pair of eyes that had been watching you from across the courtyard.
it was a beautiful evening, and you smiled as you started singing, off-key but nonetheless singing, while you warmed up and stretched before your run. you didn't notice the figure sitting nearby until you were almost past them.
doona.
she was sitting on the brick fence that surrounded an old tree, one leg crossed over the other, and a cigarette dangling from her lips. the smoke swirled lazily around her, and she exhaled slowly, watching you with a bored, detached look as you bopped your head to the music in your headphones.
you were in your own little world, head down, and pounding music that drowned out everything except for your own thoughts.
but then, just as you were getting into a good groove, doona stood up abruptly, taking a drag from her cigarette.
without missing a beat, she stepped directly into your path, her body blocking your way.
you came to a halt, pulling your headphones down to your neck.
"excuse me," you said, raising an eyebrow, already feeling the irritation start to build. you hadn't been expecting anyone to stand in your way, let alone her.
doona regarded you coolly, the smoke curling from her lips as she blew out a cloud and gave you a pointed look. "what's your deal?"
you blinked, confused, your jaw slightly dropping. "what?"
doona took another slow drag from her cigarette, her eyes narrowing slightly as she studied you. the calm, almost calculating look on her face made you feel even more confused.
"you've been staring at me for weeks," she said, her voice laced with something you couldn't quite place. was it annoyance? amusement? "every time you run by, you look up at my apartment. i see you. you're watching me."
you blinked again, the irritation from before quickly turning into bewilderment. "what? i'm not—what are you talking about?"
doona's expression didn't soften. she flicked the ash off her cigarette, still maintaining that intense gaze. "don't act like you haven't noticed me. you've been eyeing me from across the courtyard every day, practically tracking my every move. and now you're singing my songs like some kind of weird obsession. what's your deal, stalker?"
a small laugh escaped you, almost out of reflex. "are you serious? i've just been doing my thing—i'm not stalking anyone."
doona raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced. for a moment, there was a pause between you two, the sound of your heartbeat in your ears as your confusion started to shift into something else.
"yeah, right." she took another drag, blowing the smoke into your face, causing you to close your eyes and cough slightly. your jaw tightened at the action, but you still tried to keep your cool. the last thing you wanted was to give her any kind of satisfaction.
doona tilted her head to the side; the two of you studied each other intently, the tension thickening between you as the seconds dragged on. her gaze was sharp, predatory even, and her lips twitched into a small smirk.
you, on the other hand, were trying your hardest not to show how irritated you were. it wasn't like you cared that she thought you were some sort of stalker. in fact, you were far more interested in getting away from this confrontation and finishing your run.
but as you stared back at her, you couldn't help but feel... curious. who was this woman? why was she so damn confident and dismissive?
finally, you exhaled sharply, pulling your shoulders back when it finally hit you. she was lee doona, from dream sweet!
your confusion morphed into a mix of surprise and disinterest. you weren't particularly impressed by celebrity status, and honestly, you couldn't care less who she was. all you cared about was getting back to your routine and putting as much distance between you and this strange encounter as possible.
you stared at her for a beat longer, trying to mask the faint surprise flickering across your face. doona's eyes held an intense gaze, scanning you almost like a puzzle to be solved.
but when you didn't immediately react the way she expected, her expression faltered for a fraction of a second, and she flicked the cigarette again, sending more ash into the wind.
"so, what?" you said, cutting through the silence with a firm tone, finally over the awkwardness. "you're accusing me of stalking you because i run by and look up at the apartments? that's a stretch."
doona narrowed her eyes, seemingly a bit put off by your nonchalant attitude. she opened her mouth, but something in your demeanor stopped her. maybe it was the fact that you weren't fawning over her or hanging on her every word like people usually did.
maybe it was the confusion you still had about her unexpected behavior. she seemed a little unsure of herself for the first time in the conversation.
her voice, when it came out, was slightly less accusatory, but no less annoyed. "it's not just about running by, alright? it's the way you look at me. like you're always waiting for something."
you paused, taking a moment to process her words. you tried to read her, but she had the same expression as before, guarded and defensive. her posture was relaxed, but her eyes were sharp.
was she really this caught up in a casual interaction with someone she thought was obsessed with her?
"i'm not 'waiting' for anything," you replied before brushing past her, putting your headphones back in, and jogging out of the courtyard towards the street.
over the next week, doona's presence became hard to ignore. she had a way of appearing at just the right moment—whether it was passing you in the hallway or casually lounging on her balcony as you stepped out for air.
her presence was like a constant shadow, always hovering just out of reach but never quite out of mind. you couldn't deny that her mysterious aura intrigued you, but you weren't about to give her the satisfaction of knowing that.
each time you crossed paths, whether she was perched on the balcony with a cigarette or standing in the doorway as you passed by, she had that same intense, unreadable gaze. it was like she was trying to figure you out, but at the same time, she never seemed to want to make the first move.
you, however, had other things on your mind—your routine, your runs, the work that needed to get done. doona wasn't a part of that, no matter how much she seemed to want to be. you kept your head down, trying to block out the distraction that was her presence.
but one day, when you returned home after work, still dressed in dress pants and a black button-up shirt, you saw doona sitting outside.
you hesitated for a second, unsure if she'd approach or if you should just keep walking. but before you could make up your mind, she called out to you.
"hey."
you stopped, caught off guard by the lack of confrontation this time. she wasn't blocking your path or looking at you like you were some strange specimen. she was just... there. waiting.
"are you going to keep ignoring me, or do you actually want to talk?" her tone wasn't harsh this time, just curious.
for a moment, you felt a flash of irritation. who did she think she was, acting like she had the right to dictate when you should talk to her? you had enough of these mind games. you glanced over at her, seeing her kicking her feet outwards like a child.
she wasn't smoking this time, and she wasn't giving you that intimidating, piercing stare either. instead, her eyes were warm, and there was a small, inviting smile on her face.
something in your stomach twisted slightly, but you managed to hold yourself together. you stepped forward, crossing your arms, but your stance was more relaxed now, less defensive than before. "what's this about, doona?"
she leaned back against the fence, leaning back on her arms and tilting her head slightly. "i don't know. maybe i was wrong about you."
"wrong about me?" you repeated, confused. "what do you mean?"
doona let out a sigh, her gaze flicking down to the ground before meeting yours again. "i misjudged you. thought you were... obsessed or something."
a soft chuckle escaped you, and you raised an eyebrow, still unsure if you were understanding correctly. "and now?"
her stomach growled audibly before she could answer; doona's eyes flicked down, a faint blush coloring her cheeks as she ran a hand through her hair, clearly embarrassed.
you couldn't help but chuckle at her. "lucky for you, i've got leftovers from work," you said, tapping the backpack you had slung over your shoulder, which contained a portion of the evening's meals from your restaurant job.
"leftovers?" doona raised an eyebrow. "what, you think i look like i'm starving?"
"maybe not starving," you said, "but it's not like you're going to turn down free food." you held out the bag, shaking it slightly, almost teasing her.
she eyed it for a moment, then pushed herself off the fence, moving toward you with a slow, deliberate step. "you're lucky you're offering," she muttered, taking the bag from you with a slight smirk. "i wasn't going to beg for your charity."
"right," you said, shaking your head. "just take it, doona."
for a second, she seemed to hesitate, as if weighing whether to offer a witty remark, but instead she just muttered a quick thanks, her fingers brushing yours as she took the bag.
the next evening, when you returned from work again, there she was, sitting by the same spot, her eyes trained on her feet. she didn't seem to notice your approach until your foot scraped against the concrete.
this time, she didn't wait for you to say anything. the moment she saw you, she stood up and walked toward you, eyes gleaming.
"got any leftovers today?" she asked, cutting straight to the point.
you were taken aback for a moment. had she really come just for food? "still hungry, huh?" you asked, grinning despite yourself.
"very," she replied, with that same smirk you were starting to recognize all too well.
you shrugged, reaching for your backpack and pulling out another container. "here, take it."
days passed, and each night when you came home, doona was there, waiting for more of your leftovers. her presence had become a routine, like a weird, unspoken agreement between the two of you. you'd offer the food, she'd take it with little fanfare, and sometimes, if you were lucky, she'd stay for a little conversation.
one evening, your manager practically forced you to stay late, almost two hours after your shift had ended. when you finally arrived home, exhausted and hungry, doona wasn't waiting for you. it was late, so you don't know why you would expect her to be there.
but as you made your way up the stairs and towards your apartment, you noticed something odd. a faint sound—footsteps. someone moving quickly, almost purposefully. you paused, glancing around.
there she was.
doona stood at the foot of your building, her eyes scanning the space like she was looking for something—or someone. her gaze locked onto you the moment you stepped into view, and for the briefest of moments, there was something almost sheepish in her expression.
you stopped in your tracks, the exhaustion from your late shift quickly replaced by a flicker of amusement. "i didn't think you'd be waiting tonight," you said, adjusting the strap of your backpack, almost expecting her to snap back with some witty retort.
she didn't. instead, she bit her lip, her eyes darting around as if unsure of herself. "i thought you might have forgotten," she said with a small shrug.
you blinked, the words catching you off guard. "forgot?"
"yeah." she looked down at her feet for a moment before meeting your eyes again. "the food. i've... been getting used to it."
a weird, inexplicable tug in your chest made you pause.
"i haven't forgotten," you replied, your tone a little lighter. "i just got stuck at work longer than usual. but i brought something for you."
you opened your bag; instead, it wasn't the usual takeout you usually brought her. instead, you pulled out a small cake—chocolate with rich frosting and a simple "happy birthday" written on top in delicate icing.
doona blinked in surprise, her eyes widening a little. "what... is this?"
"it's your birthday, isn't it?" you asked with a small, teasing smile. "i figured you'd appreciate something sweet, instead of leftovers for once."
she stared at the cake for a long moment, not even noticing you turning away and walking upstairs toward your bedroom, the door closing behind you with a soft click.
doona lingered by the doorway, still staring at the cake. something about the gesture touched her, and her mind raced with questions, but none of them would formulate into coherent words.
after a long, thoughtful pause, she made her way up the stairs with the cake in her hand. when she knocked on your door, you opened it, already anticipating her arrival. you weren't surprised to see her standing there, her expression unreadable as she walked past you, heading straight for your bed and setting the cake down on your desk.
you raised an eyebrow as she made herself at home, flopping down on your bed without a care in the world. it was a little jarring, considering how much she had thrown off the idea of getting close to you just a few weeks ago. but there she was, casually reclining on your bed, like it was the most natural thing in the world.
you stood by the door, not quite sure what to say. "you just walked in without even asking?"
she shrugged, her eyes not leaving yours. "it's not like you're going to stop me."
"what makes you so sure?"
"you wouldn't have let me in otherwise."
that was a fair point. you sighed, moving to unbutton your work shirt, but instead of heading to your closet, you stayed near the door, keeping a safe distance from her. "what do you want?" you asked, trying to sound casual but failing miserably.
"i just wanted to see if you missed me," she answered, her voice unexpectedly soft, though laced with that playful challenge. her gaze held yours, and for a second, you could have sworn there was a hint of affection in her expression.
you swallowed, breaking the gaze and looking away. you didn't want her to catch the flush creeping across your cheeks.
doona smirked, watching the way your fingers fumbled with the buttons on your shirt, the way you tried so hard not to show any sign of vulnerability. you chuckled, though there was a hint of nervousness in your laugh.
"miss you?" you took a few steps further into the room but kept your distance, not wanting to make the moment feel too awkward. "you've been showing up for leftovers, and now you're asking if i miss you?"
doona raised an eyebrow, which dropped when she let out a sigh, glancing around your room. it was her first time ever being up here. "you looked for me tonight," she muttered. "i didn't think you cared if i was around or not."
you paused, the weight of her words hanging in the air. for a moment, you felt exposed, like she had somehow cracked through the barriers you'd carefully put up around your thoughts and emotions. you'd been so intent on brushing her off, pretending that her presence didn't matter, that you hadn't realized how much she'd started to occupy your mind.
"i didn't look for you," you said quickly, though you weren't entirely sure if you believed it yourself. "i just—" you rubbed the back of your neck, averting your eyes, not wanting to meet hers. you took a deep breath, forgetting about taking off your work clothes and instead focused on trying to maintain your composure.
doona's gaze softened slightly as she watched your struggle to keep your cool. she could tell you were trying to downplay the shift in your emotions, but it wasn't working. there was a crack in your facade, and she was starting to notice it.
"right," she said, her voice dropping into something softer, more teasing than before.
you shifted uncomfortably, rubbing the back of your neck again as your eyes flicked to the cake you had given her earlier. for some reason, the sweetness of the gesture now felt like it was hanging over both of you, making everything feel more real, more vulnerable. you had never meant for this to become more than just a simple exchange. leftovers. a casual moment. yet here she was, in your room, in your personal space, making things feel... complicated.
"i didn't expect you to be here," you muttered, trying to sound indifferent but failing. "i didn't think you'd care if i gave you a cake or not."
doona let out a soft, almost wistful laugh. "you really are bad at this, aren't you?"
the way she said it caught you off guard. there was something affectionate in her tone, something beyond just teasing. you had never thought she would soften up like this, not after all the weird tension that had built up between you two. but there it was.
you swallowed, still not quite sure how to handle the shift in the air. it was no longer about leftovers, no longer about the small interactions. she was making you confront something you hadn't expected to feel—maybe even something you hadn't wanted to feel.
"doona..." you started, but she cut you off before you could finish.
"stop overthinking it," she said with a small, half-smile. "i'm not here to make you uncomfortable. not really. i just... want to see how far you'll go."
"go where?" you asked, still confused but unable to stop the questions from rising in your chest. "what do you want from me?"
she sat up from your bed, the air between you two thickening with every word. "i just want to know if you're more than the girl who gives me leftovers. are you?"
her gaze was intense now, and her words hung in the air, a challenge and an invitation all at once. you didn't have an answer, and you didn't know what she was hoping for. you just knew that whatever this was—whatever you two were turning into—it was no longer as simple as it had been when she first asked for leftovers.
she stood up from your bed, her hands falling to the buttons of your shirt, her eyes never leaving yours. you felt the soft cotton of your shirt, now being unbuttoned by her, slipping off your shoulders as she leaned in closer.
her fingers traced along the lines of your collarbones, slowly, gently, a small, amused smile playing on her lips. it was such a gentle touch, such a light caress, yet you couldn't help the way your breath caught in your throat, the way your heart skipped a beat.
she tilted her head slightly, her smile growing as she watched you, the intensity of her gaze making it clear that she was enjoying this. enjoying seeing you get flustered, enjoying seeing you react to her touch.
and then, her hand moved to your hip, and she pulled you closer, pressing her lips against yours.
you could feel your pulse quicken as the kiss deepened, her fingers digging into your hip, her other hand reaching up and tangling in your hair, tugging slightly. as she pulled you closer, you could feel her body pressing against yours, her breath mingling with yours, your mind going blank as her tongue swiped over your lips, tasting, teasing.
you hadn't expected this—hell, you didn't even know if you were ready for it. but doona wasn't giving you a chance to overthink. she was just there, and all you could do was follow her lead.
when the kiss broke, you found yourself looking into her eyes. they were dark and full of want and something else, too. you swallowed, feeling your stomach twist with a mixture of nerves and anticipation.
doona leaned in again; this time you didn't hesitate, kissing back with the same intensity and hunger she was pouring into you, her lips soft and insistent against yours, while her arms dangled around your neck.
the kiss deepened again, your hands fell to her waist, and doona began walking backwards; you followed her like a puppy on a leash, falling on top of her as her back hit your bed. her eyes were half-closed, but they were still looking at you. she ran her hands up and down your sides, caressing you. her touch was light, but you felt it go right through you. doona smiled up at you, her hands going to the hem of your shirt and lifting it up, her fingers grazing your skin as she pulled the material up over your head.
her hands fell to your core, fingers trailing against your stomach. her touch was making you shiver, sending waves of pleasure through you.
you bit your lip and closed your eyes, focusing on her touch, looking down to see a singular finger moving along the top of your pants, tracing the outline of your belt, teasing. she was taking her time, exploring your body, watching and listening to your reactions. it was making you painfully hard, and you wanted nothing more than to have her fingers wrap around you.
finally, doona moved her hands back up and unbuckled your belt, sliding it out of the loops and tossing it aside. then, she popped the button on your pants and lowered the zipper, sliding your jeans down, exposing your black boxers.
she was gazing at you, her pupils blown wide with lust. doona licked her lips. she was waiting for you to say something. but all you could do was nod and kiss her.
her tongue slipped into your mouth, and you moaned into her mouth, the sound muffled by her lips. doona's hand was in the front of your boxers, rubbing your cock through the material, feeling how hard you were. your hands gripped the sheet beneath you, and you took in a sharp breath.
you let out a grunt as her hand moved under the waistband of your boxers, wrapping around your shaft, squeezing and stroking. "wait," you said, breaking the kiss. you pulled back a little and looked at her. "let me help you."
she bit her lip, nodding, letting go of your cock. you sat down on the bed, kicking your pants away, and watched as she slid off her own pants, her hips raising from the bed before lowering again.
doona had you in a spell, your eyes glued to her every movement; you wondered if she was aware of the effect she had on you. she was wearing a pair of black lace panties, which contrasted beautifully with her creamy skin. your gaze lingered on her breasts, which were covered by a coordinating bra.
she lay back down, her hair fanning out on the pillow. you couldn't stop staring.
"see something you like?" she teased.
you nodded, crawling back on top of her, afraid that any words that left your mouth would make her change her mind.
instead, you kissed her again, one hand cupping her cheek, the other sliding behind her back, deftly unclasping her bra. you felt her body shiver as you slid the straps off her shoulders, and the garment fell away, exposing her breasts.
"you're so beautiful," you murmured. she smiled, pulling you closer.
you lowered your head and began kissing her neck, working your way down to her breasts, licking and sucking on her nipples, making them harden under your touch. the soft sounds of her moans only encouraged you further, along with the grip she had on your shoulders, pulling you closer to her.
her hands tangled in your hair as she whispered, "don't stop."
you moved lower, kissing her stomach and then her thighs. anywhere your lips touched, she shivered with pleasure.
your fingers hooked into the waistband of her panties, pulling them off her legs. you were staring at her now, more than ever, taking in her naked form, her body flushed and warm, her chest rising and falling as she breathed heavily, her eyes locked onto yours.
you moved forward, settling between her legs, spreading them open, your hands gripping her hips. "please," she whimpered. "i need you."
you pressed your face against her thigh, kissing it softly, your hands gripping her thighs firmly as you trailed kisses up towards her core. she arched her back, silently begging for more, her fingers tangling in your hair as she guided you closer to where she needed you most.
"stop being an ass," she whispered in frustration in her voice. "just give me what i want." you chuckled softly, then moved higher, your tongue finding her wet folds. her breath hitched, and her hand tightened in your hair, a low moan escaping her lips as you gave her exactly what she desired.
you lapped at her cunt, your tongue moving up and down her slit, tasting her. she was writhing beneath you, her back arching off the bed, her pulling at your hair so much it was starting to hurt. her moans grew louder, more desperate, "oh, god..." she moaned, her voice thick with arousal. "that feels so good."
you continued to lick her, your tongue sliding up and down her slit, teasing her, before you focused on her clit, flicking it with the tip of your tongue. she was panting now, her legs trying their hardest to trap your head between them as she bucked against your mouth.
"fuck... oh, fuck..." she was breathing hard, her moans increasing, her thighs squeezing tighter around your head. you knew she was about to cum, and you didn't want to disappoint her, so you quickened your pace, swirling your tongue around her clit before sucking on it gently. she let out a loud gasp, her legs tightening around your head, her back arching as she came hard.
her whole body shook with the force of her orgasm, her nails digging into the sheets beneath her as she rode out her pleasure. after a moment, her grip on you loosened, and she let out a long, content sigh.
you looked up at her, a smile on your lips, and she grinned back at you. "see," she said breathlessly. "i knew you could be a good girl." you wanted to roll your eyes and disregard the pet name, but your body's response was instantaneous, and you felt yourself grow twitch as the words escaped her lips.
you climbed up her body and kissed her, allowing her to taste herself on your lips. "do you want more?" you whispered against her lips, and she nodded. "i want you inside me."
you moved to the edge of the bed, sitting down as you pulled off your boxers, revealing your cock, fully erect, glistening with precum. the dark-haired girl smiled seductively as she crawled towards you, straddling your lap and guiding you inside her with a moan of pleasure.
the sensation of being enveloped by her warmth was overwhelming, and you both moaned in unison when doona's hip began moving achingly slow. she was trying to get a reaction out of you, and you were so lost in the moment that you could barely form a coherent thought.
your eyes left the sight of your member buried deep inside her to meet her intense gaze, your mouth agape and your hands gripping her hips tightly. "pretty," she muttered, her voice husky, kissing the outline of your jaw before trailing down your neck.
your mouth took in her breast, savoring the taste of her skin as she arched into your touch, a soft gasp escaping her lips. she started riding you faster, her hips rolling in a rhythm that was better than any song she had ever sung.
"doona," you managed to gasp out, your hands gripped her waist tightly, your mouth falling against her shoulder, trying to contain yourself.
you didn't know what the two of you were going to be after this, if she would continue playing that stupid game she loved so much, if you could just stay as friends, or if you could somehow get closer, but for now, none of that mattered. all that mattered was her and her soft body.
her hands dug into your hair, and you buried your face in her neck, breathing in her scent. her pussy felt so tight and wet, and you groaned against her neck, your teeth biting at her skin. she started moving faster, and you knew she was close. a loud whine left her throat, and her fingers tightened in your hair, yanking you back to look at her.
"y/n," she whined. "fuck, please. are you close?"
you nodded.
"fuck, baby. you feel so good. come with me, y/n. please." you reached down and circled her clit with your thumb, and her mouth dropped open, her head thrown back as her entire body tensed, her pussy tightening around your dick, pulling you over the edge with her. you groaned, pressing your face into her neck as your cum filled her.
she collapsed on top of you, and the two of you caught your breath.
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lesbiancharliedalton · 3 days ago
Text
I've been editing this write-up for literal weeks now and I still feel like I can't get in everything that I want to convey, but I'll try.
It's officially been one year since I stayed up ALL night (like, til 10-11 AM) editing this, my very first full-length music video. All in one sitting. To most, it's probably just a regular character edit or fan-made music video. To me, it's something else. It's catharsis, love and and an explosive expression of myself. To this day, I still can't quite explain what I went through when I was making this. I had just heard this song for the very first time about 24 hours prior and I immediately knew I had to make this music video. I listened to the song, and immediately thought of Charlie. I knew I had to make this. When it was done, I broke down crying and didn't stop for about 2 hours. I came to a lot of conclusions about myself and my life and I had never felt simultaneously more vulnerable and more accepting of myself.
I was crying, partially, because I realized that I was feeling real, genuine love for this fictional character who had been living quietly inside of me and influencing me for years and years. Which is an insane and crazy thing to say. And at first, I felt shame, because I knew it was crazy, and also because it made me realize I had never romantically loved another human being before, and certainly not to this extent. This revelation first made me feel scared, isolated and embarrassed. I thought it was really sad that I was only able to feel this way, feel this level of understanding and love for someone who would never exist and who could never hurt me. I thought I had matured past that way of thinking. It was embarrassing to know that I could spend hours upon hours crying and expelling all my emotional energy just trying to craft a love letter to someone who could never reciprocate because they quite literally have never existed.
But then I realized that it felt right. I had spent my life with all this pent-up energy and love and emotion and I kept putting it in all the wrong places. Nothing seemed to work for years and I felt disconnected from most of society. I realized that night that it was my own doing. I had been hurt and beat down so many times that I detached myself entirely. I repressed my passions that others dismissed as frivolous, I refused to acknowledge or show my feelings or admit to others how I felt about them and I lived a life that I was absolutely miserable in due to fear of being embarrassed, made fun of, or alienated.
In my fear of becoming alienated, I had alienated myself.
And for the first time in years, things made sense. Through rewatching this movie, through seeing this character again, my eyes were opened. I don't know why or how, but through loving Charlie I started the long and arduous process of loving myself. I saw parts of myself in him and his journey, parts that I had been repressing for years and years. And I saw parts of myself that I wanted to be in this character. I was seeing clearly for the first time.
And somehow, through this movie, this character, through crafting this love letter set to lyrics that I wish I could tell him to his face, I found myself. I realized I didn't need to pretend to be someone else anymore. I realized that by trying to be what everyone else wanted to be, I was making myself miserable and further isolating myself. I realized that I finally wanted to be myself, whoever that is, for the first time in years. It seems like an extremely obvious conclusion to make, but for some reason it took me seeing Charlie for the first time in ten years to really, truly realize it. It also made me realize that through the process of connecting with myself instead of running from it, it would become easier for me to connect with others around me too. I've become much more emotionally open and even braver when it comes to other people. I've done things I would have never done just a few years ago. I make connections with all sorts of new people constantly, and not online.
I still can't explain how sitting down and manically crafting a music video helped me come to all these conclusions that had been banging around in my head for a couple of months, but sometimes personal epiphanies come to us in unexpected ways I guess.
As ridiculous as it sounds, through Charlie Dalton, through loving him, I found and learned to love myself. And it doesn't matter that he isn't real, because the impact that he's had on me is very real, and personally I've stopped believing that it's cringe and now I think it's kind of beautiful. For years, I had convinced myself that I was incapable of love--giving and receiving. Through making this, I realized that I had plenty of love to give, I just didn't know where to put it. I poured all of it into this video. How beautiful to love something so much and have it change you.
Charlie Dalton - VIENNA
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onekmaway · 10 hours ago
Note
(giving this blog some love 💚)
Rich. men. 🗣️
when he approached you and proposed the idea of being his sugar baby, you thought it would be those cliche stories
but those stereotypes were quickly thrown out when he said that he wanted to be the one taking the backshots 💔 telling you that for every orgasm he have, 10 grand (maybe more) would be inserted into your account ❤️
ofc he takes you to lovely dates outside of the bedroom too 🥰
-🌹
Rich. PATHETIC. men. 🗣️
Imaging you're a college student, your studies having drained you of life, you barely get sleep, and not to mention- you're broke, barely getting by, and not to mention, you had student debt too. But one day, you're scrolling through some dating app (that down bad, huh?), and suddenly gotten a match by some guy- it seems you two had a lot in common (or you simply lied), though, he was older- hell, almost old enough to be your dad, but hey? A pull is a pull- at least he was hot. And after a few dates, you started to like him, though, mostly because on each date, he paid for everything, and I mean everything, which... you did not mind, not at all- hell, you were too scared to even look at the bill, seeing that most of the places you two visited was fancy or expensive at least, so you weren't complaining- it wasn't like you two didn't hit it off, and he was happy enough to pay for all of you expenses.
One day, when you were visiting his penthouse apartment (yeah, he was that rich), and jesus, it made your dorm room look like a cubby, the view was nice too. While you two were drinking a bit, talking and what not- it got quiet, till you heard him ask: "Would- would you mind being my sugar baby?" He asked, making you just pause- god you were a bit scared of him asking this, why else was he spoiling you so much? But god, you were too broke, so pushing your pride away, you agreed. After a month or so, being his sugar baby, it was... well, smooth, he hasn't asked you to do anything, well, maybe a kiss here and there- and hell, he paid for all of you school debt, so that was a plus, you were allowed to live comfortably again. That is till one day, when he invited you to his penthouse, it started slow, talking, and then it turned into kissing, which was slow, passionate- till it turned hungry, needy even- this was the moment you dreaded, when you pulled away, trying to subtly telling him that you weren't really the type to take it up the ass, and that you were kind of a virgin in it- to which he simply chuckled, almost laughing out loud "Wait- no, no, no- I don't want to fuck you- I want you to fuck me" When he said that, you could feel some relief leave your body, but then it turned into a bit confusion- he, your sugar daddy, wanted to be fucked? "Look- I get it, I... probably didn't make it much clear, that, I apologize for... you probably thought I was like- this super dominant CEO type or something?" He asked nervously- everything made sense to you now, the way he acted around you, making sure you well and satisfied, staring at your arms, your muscles, each time you wear a tight shirt or tank top- the fact that you only realized now made you feel a bit dumb "So... will you fuck me?" He asked, bringing you back to the present, the situation finally dawning on you- and like that, you were balls deep inside of him- his hands holding the pillow like a lifeline, your hands gripping his hips oh so tightly as you bounced him back on your cock each time you thrusted inside of him, and god, those moans and groans coming out of his mouth was like a melody- despite him having told you it's been a very long while since he got fucked- he was taking it so well, like he was just made for your cock
His hole was gripping your cock so nicely- much better than the chicks at your college, their cunts pale in comparison of how his walls wrapped so nicely around your cock, "Oh- fuck! I think I'm close, please" He would moan out, his hole gripping your cock even tighter (if that was even possible), moaning each time your cock reached that one spot, that is till you slowed down a bit- wanting to prolong the pleasure just a bit longer, "Oh- fuck, please.... don't edge me now- not now, not when I'm so close" He whined out, pushing his ass back against your hips, trying to get you to fuck him faster again, and after torturing him just a bit longer- you began to fuck him faster again, a moan of delight leaving his lips, gripping his pillow harder as you fucked him into the bed. Now after all of that, he was spent- he knew sleeping with someone younger would drain him, but god, he was much more drained than he thought he would be- and you weren't even tired... yet at least, you were trying to find your boxers, confused where you threw it, he just reached for his bedside drawer lazily, digging around it till he found what he was looking for "Here... buy something nice for you... you made me cum after all" He mumbled out before just simply throwing his wallet at you, practically limp on the bed
Yeah, you could definitely get used to this
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mj-iza-writer · 1 day ago
Text
Whumpee had barricaded the door.
They huddled fearfully on the opposite side of the room. Tears threatened to fall as they held up a knife.
They managed to steal it off of one of the guards.
Whumpee jumped when a pounding knock came to the door.
"Whumpee, I have all of the guards surrounding this room. I really don't want to break this door down. It's really expensive to replace. Can we just talk this through? We can maybe come to an agreement. Do you need something special to help cope with the recent experiments", Whumper leaned against the door, "come on, I know you can hear me. Open the door, you won't get hurt."
"You're going to yell at me. Then I'm going to get a tranquilizer nap", Whumpee yelled. They tried to control their shaking, but it was getting worse by the second.
"I won't yell at you... I promise", Whumper gently jiggled the doorknob so not to alert Whumpee.
"Its unlocked, they probably have something in front of the door", Whumper whispered to the lead guards, "I'm going to try again. I would like them to come out willingly. Don't sedate them unless necessary."
Once everyone agreed, Whumper tried again.
"Whumpee, I really need you to open the door. The guards are in position. You can stop everything by just opening the door. The guards can even help push it open if you need", Whumper talked gently, "we can talk this out."
"I have a knife", Whumpee shook, "I'll kill myself if you come in here."
"Alright alright. We definitely don't want you to do that", Whumper sighed.
"You'd lose", Whumpee frowned, "you don't like to lose."
"You're right, I really don't like losing, and I don't want to find another test subject. You're just so good at it", Whumper still remained calm, "just think though... do you really want to be the cause of someone else getting captured and brought here?"
"I'll be dead...", Whumpee yelled hysterically.
"There is a gun on them", one of the lead guards whispered, "they got in through the vents. Say the word, and Whumpee will be sedated."
"Do they have a knife?", Whumper sighed, "how did they even get a knife? Honestly, how did any of this become a possibility?"
The lead nodded after a few seconds.
"They have a knife, it's currently raised at the door", the lead looked around, "it's your call."
"I don't want them to hurt themself or worse, but if we tranquilize them, they may fall on it and get hurt", Whumper frowned, "I've been bested by a labrat."
Whumper frowned, "let's get me into the room. Tell the guard to continue being aimed at Whumpee. Don't shoot unless I can't talk them down. I don't think Whumpee would actually kill themself, but I think their judgment is clouded by fear. If they make any moves, sedate them. I'll stitch and bandage whatever gets cut."
Whumpee jumped when the door started to get pushed in.
Their barricade wasn't exactly the strongest.
They raised the knife to their throat when Whumper finally squeezed in. The door shut behind Whumper.
Whumper climbed over a shelf, "It's just me. I just want to talk. You can lower the knife... I'm unarmed. I don't even know how to use the tranquilizer gun. Just you and me", Whumper started to walk toward Whumpee.
Whumpee held the knife even closer. It somewhat dug into their skin now.
"Don't", Whumpee warned.
"Alright, alright", Whumper paused, "I'll take a few steps back even. Just lower that down."
Whumpee blinked away their tears as they lowered the knife slightly.
"There see. Everything is alright", Whumper smirked.
"No, it's not", Whumpee glared, "none of this is alright."
"What can we do to make it better? Hmm, what can I do to help you?", Whumper looked at them curiously, "I know it's not fun being locked up and not listened to. I'm listening right now. You have my full attention."
Whumpee's lip quivered, "I don't want to be experimented on anymore. I-it hurts."
"Okay, noted", Whumper nodded, "I can see if I can work out something so it won't hurt as much."
"I don't want it at all. Don't you get that?", Whumpee yelled. They waved the knife angrily, "yes its not fun being locked up. No one cares about me. Just put in my cage until I'm needed what kind of life is that?"
Whumper nodded, "I get it. I do. I'm sure you're lonely. If I find you a friend... maybe that might help."
"I don't want anyone else to be here", Whumpee frowned, "I don't want to be the cause of someone else's torture."
"You won't be. I won't blame you at all", Whumper nodded, "I'll just bring them here with nothing else said."
"No", Whumpee whispered. "Please."
"There is nothing to be afraid of. We can fix all of these issues today", Whumper nodded, "just set the knife down."
Whumpee shook their head no, "please don't come any closer. I'm afraid you'll hurt me."
"I'm not going to hurt you. You got a little stressed and this is were that led. You needed to be heard and needed something like this to get my attention", Whumper sighed, "and right now, we are talking civily. I see that you are lonely and I'll will gladly fix that. I'm not unreasonable."
Whumpee couldn't help but nod... they were very lonely.
"Just one thing to do beforehand", Whumper chuckled lightly.
Whumpee looked up nervously. They hadn't paid attention, but Whumper had slowly crept closer and closer to them.
Whumper hurried and grabbed at Whumpee. They gripped tightly around their wrist and forced the knife to fall.
"That's better", Whumper hissed.
Whumpee sobbed as they fell to their knees.
Whumper still gripped their wrist.
The guards broke into the room and arrested Whumpee.
"Take them to their cage", Whumper wiped their hands on their coat.
"I-I'm sorry.... please don't be mad at me", Whumpee cried as they were pushed out of the room.
Whumper turned and looked down at the knife.
"Leader, figure out who this belonged to, and how it ended up in Whumpee's possession, and how long it has been missing", Whumper spoke to the lead guard.
Whumper sauntered into the room where Whumpee's cage was.
Whumpee huddled into the back of the cage.
Whumper peered in at them.
Whumpee looked up with a messy face, full of snot and tears.
"You look pitiful", Whumper cooed as they opened the door.
Whumpee cowereded away, "please I'll be good. I'm sorry, I just... just uhm."
"Like I said. You're not in trouble darling. We all have breakdowns. You needed to have a moment to express your needs. The guards and I were not paying enough attention to you", Whumper sighed, "here step out here. Let's clean you up a little. Labrats have needs and wants, too."
Whumpee watched as Whumper stepped back from the cage. They slowly unfolded their legs and slid out.
Whumper walked to the sink and grabbed a towel. They let some cold water run on it before carrying it back.
Whumpee stood shyly while Whumper sat in front of them and started to wipe their face off.
Whumpee's lip quivered as they fidgetted with their shirt.
"How about this... you can ask for three things", Whumper sighed, "you have had a rough time lately, so I'll let you have some rewards. The guards are also going to find you a friend to keep you company."
"No please", Whumpee pleaded.
"You didn't care earlier", Whumper smirked.
"Because I would have been dead. I don't want to cause someone else's imprisonment", Whumpee begged.
"You won't be the cause, I am. At least when they get here, they automatically get a friend. You've been here by yourself for a while", Whumper started to inspect Whumpee, "I'm glad you didn't cut yourself. Anyway, it has already been decided that you are getting a buddy. You don't get a say in the matter. Now, what are your three wishes?"
"C-can I have my big room back?", Whumpee was quick with the first request, "you said it would only be a couple days in the cage.... it's been a month since I've been in my room."
"I kind of forgotten about that. It's been easier not having to wrangle you down every time I need you", Whumper laughed, "but yes, we can make the sacrifice. We will get your room cleaned and move you in tomorrow. That will be good as well since you'll be getting a friend."
Whumpee looked at the cage sadly, "I don't know what else to ask for."
"Well, I guess I put you on the spot. Also, you're probably tired from all of the excitement you caused. Go ahead and think it over", Whumper stood, "dinner will be brought in here soon. Do you want to walk around in here while I work? I'll give you the rest of the day off. I don't need you to do anything for me."
Whumpee nodded quickly.
Whumper watched them for a few minutes before they sat down at their desk to work.
A guard came in after an hour. They looked at Whumpee disapprovingly then went to Whumper.
Whumpee looked down timidly.
It was the guard they had gotten the knife off of.
They watched Whumper and the guard talk out of the corner of their eye. They pretended to play with a toy ball Whumper had given them.
"So how on earth did Whumpee manage to get that knife?", Whumper whispered harshly.
"I have no idea. The stupid rat needs to be punished", the guard looked over at Whumpee again, "they can't be allowed to shut down your entire lab with a tatrum over a little bloodwork."
Whumpee shuddered as they looked up toward Whumper.
"Punish them for your mistake? You guards are supposed to be elite... top class. A labrat managed to sneak a weapon off of you and use it. They almost injured themself because of this. Do you know how screwed up my experiments would be without them", Whumper talked louder, "go to your In-charge and see what your new job will be. You will no longer be allowed to deal with Whumpee. If you ever harm Whumpee... you will be taking their place. I have an experiment that I'm just itching to do. The problem is that it will kill the test subject. Maybe then you can see what a little bloodwork feels like. Clear?"
"Yes Whumper", the guard grumbled, "I understand."
"Good, now get out", Whumper pointed to the door.
The guard left and Whumpee's dinner was carried in at the same time.
"Here, you little scamp", the person handed them the tray with a smirk.
"How is the hunt going Leader?", Whumper looked up.
Whumpee happily looked over the tray; all of their favorites had been made. Often that would be the apology.
"Uh, going well. They are tracking down the person of interest right now. We should have them by morning", the lead sighed.
Whumper eyed Whumpee while they talked with the guard.
"I think they will be surprised", Whumper whispered, "both of them."
Whumpee was being led back to their room. Guards held on tightly to either side of them... fearing they'd run again.
Whumpee looked ahead and saw that another set of guards were leading someone else past them.
"That must be my.... Caretaker?", Whumpee screamed and started to pull against the guard's firm grip.
"Whumpee?", Caretaker looked up worriedly and started to pull.
"Don't let them touch", Whumper's voice came from behind, "the new one needs to be cleaned, disinfected, and examined before I let them near my test subject."
"Test subject?", Caretaker paused and looked at Whumpee, "is this where you've been for... so .... long?"
"That it is.... they've been a very good labrat for me. You should be proud. You'll be able to talk later", Whumper looked at the guards, "carry on."
Whumpee nervously stood by the cage door of their room. They glanced up and down the hall as far as they could both ways.
"How could they take Caretaker. Out of everyone out there.... I would think Caretaker would be the hardest to get. Also, the most influential. This is my fault", Whumpee leaned their head on the bars to think.
Whumpee was eating their lunch when Caretaker was brought in.
They were naked.... only wrapped in a light blanket.
"Your clothes will be brought soon", the guards uncuffed Caretaker, "wait patiently until then."
Whumpee stared at Caretaker with wide, terrified eyes. Tears stung to be allowed to fall.
"My Whumpee", Caretaker finally knelt down, "it's okay, I'm so sorry."
"No I'm sorry", Whumpee whimpered, "you were brought here because of me.... I-I didn't know", their lip quivered, "I would have behaved had I known they would do this."
"Whumpee, what do you mean", Caretaker cupped Whumpee's cheek and wiped a stray tear.
Whumpee explained everything that had transpired the day before.
Caretaker only smiled.
"Why are you smiling... aren't you mad?", Whumpee whispered.
"A little upset at the situation, but not at you. It seems you grew a bit braver while being here", Caretaker patted Whumpee's head, "at least now I know where you've been."
Whumpee thought for a second before nodding, "I had to... you have no idea what they've done to me."
"I'm here now. Don't worry", Caretaker sighed, "hopefully I'll get some clothes soon. We can start planning our escape."
"I don't know about that."
Whumpee jumped at the familiar voice.
The door to the room opened, and Whumper stepped inside.
Caretaker was handed a stack of clothes.
"Those are for you", Whumper walked past and knelt next to Whumpee, "sorry about the cleaning process, I can't have you contaminating my rat."
Caretaker looked at the stack of sanitary scrubs judgmentally, "cozy", they grumbled.
"See an escape is not possible. I need my darling labrat to stay put. You were brought here as an incentive for them being good lately. At least for the most part. This reward can just as easily be taken away. I am actually a very nice person when everyone follows the rules. Don't make me be mean. Whumpee will agree that I am nice right?", Whumper cupped Whumpee's chin roughly.
Whumpee quickly nodded. They looked at Caretaker nervously.
"What have you been doing to them?", Caretaker frowned, "why have you brought them here?"
"That's only for me to know", Whumper stood, "don't make this hard. I truly don't want to be mean, but now I have leverage. You'll be good because you don't want Whumpee to be punished. My dearest rat will continue being good and helping with my experiments, or Caretaker gets it. Am I clear?"
"No please", Whumpee pleaded, "this is a punishment from yesterday. Please, I-I..."
"This is not from yesterday. I kept my word that you wouldn't be punished. This is just a precaution to keep you in line. Next time you act out you will receive a punishment", Whumper warned.
Whumpee shook as Whumper stood and looked down at them.
Caretaker watched as Whumpee hugged against the wall.
"Have I made myself clear to both of you?", Whumper walked toward the door, "any questions?"
"Nope", Caretaker looked at the clothes again.
Whumpee continued to huddle against the wall.
"I see they now understand the terms and conditions as well", Whumper chuckled, "very good, let's see if my lab has anymore outburst."
Caretaker sat down next to Whumpee once Whumper had left.
They sat quietly and just listened to Whumpee's breathing.
"I knew they would get back at me for yesterday. They went around the bush, but they did it", Whumpee wiped their eyes, "now you've been dragged here because of me. I'm so sorry."
"Whumpee, I'm not worried about that. I'm just happy to have found you. When you went missing... I couldn't sleep at all", Caretaker reached over and pulled Whumpee close, "I don't know what you've been through, and I am happy to listen to everything. We will work together to make sure nothing happens, at least until we hopefully get rescued", Caretaker talked lowly, "I need you to teach me what the rules are so we don't get into trouble. I don't want them to go as far separating us or worse. Can we try to survive until we get our escape."
Whumpee rested their head against Caretaker. The first ounce of comfort they had received since coming here.
"Whumpee, did you hear me?", Caretaker cuddled them even closer.
"Yes I heard you. I'd do anything not to lose you again. I'm sorry you were brought here, but I'm happy you are here with me now", Whumpee whispered, "I missed you."
"I missed you too", Caretaker smiled, "I'm sorry you've been alone for so long."
Caretaker sat quietly for a while until they could hear Whumpee's snoring.
They carefully moved Whumpee until they were comfortably rested next to them.
Whumper came to the door and opened it.
Caretaker quietly got up and walked toward the opened door.
Whumper led them down to a different hall... far from Whumpee.
"You have your Whumpee back, and you have my undivided attention. Now you need to hold up you part of the bargain", Whumper warned.
"I requested Whumpee to be kept safe. I think I need to know a little more about what you've done to them before I hold my deal", Caretaker frowned.
"That's not the deal", Whumper got a little louder.
"I wouldn't. You have no idea who of the guards here are on your side and who are mine", Caretaker watched a few guards walk past, "I can bring down your entire lab with one command, is that what you want?"
"You gave me Whumpee to use for my experiments. I had to do what I had to do. You knew that would come with risk", Whumper paced back and forth, "I'm almost tempted to tell Whumpee about everything. How much you really care about them. Sent them to an illegal lab and have them experimented on by the evil scientist because your lab is too good for illegal purposes. You just wanted to see if this would work, and it does. I just need your research now. We are so close to this being done."
"I care about my Whumpee. Even if you did that, I would just wipe their memory again", Caretaker frowned, "just do your job so I can get them out of here. They like my lab better anyways. They are a helper there. Not a lab rat. The password to the document is *******, use that, and you will get everything you need."
Whumper frowned, "once I get what I need, I should have everything finalized in a week or so. I will stage it so you will be able to get out of here with them safely."
Caretaker nodded and turned, "I suppose you'll have to take me back for this to look realistic."
"So you really have people hiding out in my lab?", Whumper questioned, "wouldn't Whumpee know them?"
"Yes, I sent ten guards to sneak in here. They were to make sure Whumpee was kept safe and that you held your part of our bargain", Caretaker nodded, "your guards all wear face coverings. Whumpee wouldn't know any different."
"I wonder if Whumpee purposely got the knife from one of your guys then", Whumper started to walk.
"I doubt it, Whumpee isn't allowed to have weapons. They would never give them one purposely", Caretaker frowned, "I still can't believe they managed to do that."
Whumper nodded.
Caretaker quietly sat next to Whumpee again and ruffled their hair lovingly.
"I'm sorry for everything you've gone through. Just know it was for the greater good."
Whumpee reached for Caretaker's arm and cuddled it close.
"My dear lab rat", Caretaker whispered, "sleep well. You deserve it after what you've been through. I'm sorry I caused this. It was for the betterment of mankind... I promise."
Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all.
@villainsandheroes @the-beasts-have-arrived
@sacredwrath @porschethemermaid
@monarchthefirst @generic-whumperz
@bloodyandfrightened @freefallingup13
@notpeppermint @cyborg0109
@idontreallyexistyet @painfulplots
@whumpbump @everythingsscary
@skittles-the-whumpee @expressionless-fr
@theforeverdyingperson @legendarydelusiongoatee
@candleshopmenace @whumpanthems
@lavndvrr @ivymyers
@starfields08000 @a-living-canvas
@lumpofsand @watermeezer
@indigoviolet311 @whumpy-mountains
@3-2-whump @risk606
@electrons2006 @paperprinxe
@whumprince @kaz-of-crows
@mis-graves @decaffeinatedtimetraveler94
@sausages-things @castiels-favorite-hunter
@isikedmyself878 @daffyduckcommittedtaxfraud
@valravnthefrenchie @glennemerald
@jasperthecapser @does-directions
@deafeninglittlecrown @jumpywhumpywriter
@blackbirdsinatrenchcoat @mylifeisonthebookshelf
@thenormalestever @whatwhump
@galatic-worm @starmoon-constellation
@bacillusinfection @whumpsandbumps
@tobiasbones
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joongieology · 2 days ago
Text
Muse | Jung Wooyoung
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Pairing: Artist!Boyfriend!WooyoungxReader
Genre: Fluff
Word Count: 1.2k
Warning: mention of naked body
Sypnosis: Your boyfriend has been busy with his gallery, leaving you missing him. One thing you didn't know though, he had a surprise waiting for you.
Note: This is the first ever fanfic I've written. English is not my first language so please bear with me. If you have any feedback, please let me know! I swear I tried ಥ⁠‿⁠ಥ
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You've been dating Wooyoung for a few years now. Everything is well, better than you could ask for, but you wish you could move on to the next stage. You've always dreamt of getting married in a church since you were a little girl. Striving hard so you can save up for a grand wedding, wanting you and your future husband's day to be extra special. And now, you finally found the man you want to marry.
You met Wooyoung through your college friend, San. You went to get coffee at your usual hangout place—a café near the university—when you saw San with someone. You proceeded to where they were sitting and San invited you to sit with them.
That was the day you met Wooyoung, and that was also the day you started liking him. He was very chatty and he always made you laugh that you started to have a little crush on him. The three of you began to hang out more often, and then one day, he asked you out. You said yes, of course (who wouldn't), and you've been dating since then.
He had always been fond of art. Painting, photography, and even sculpting. He wanted to have his own gallery one day, to show off his works, and it is about to come true.
Wooyoung found a decent place where he could set up the gallery and renovate it to his liking. He was the one who worked on everything, claiming he wanted everything to be perfect. That meant, you don't see each other often because he got busy with his gallery. He never told anyone the location, not even you, which you found a little odd, but never questioned him.
You just finished eating when he showed you something on his phone. It's a map with a picture of what looks like the outside of a gallery.
"It's done. The grand opening will be tomorrow." He started, gauging for your reaction.
"Already?! Does anyone else know about this? What if I'm the only one who shows up?" You flooded him with questions, more nervous than he is.
"Don't worry, I already sent out invitations to friends and family." He said with a chuckle while piching your cheeks, clearly amused.
You sighed, relieved that you wouldn't be the only one to witness this. You want the world to see how talented your boyfriend is, and he worked hard for everything to get to this point. Even though he said this was just a small achievement, you were still so proud of him. He can finally show off his love for art.
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"You're here." Wooyoung said as he leaned in to kiss you on the cheek. You came a bit earlier than the time of the opening so you could be by his side.
"Finally, you got your own gallery. I'm so proud of you, Woo." You gave him a peck on the lips, earning you a small genuine smile from him.
You straightened the collar of his button-up and fixed his hair a bit to make him look more presentable. He smiled at you but you noticed that he looked a bit nervous. You held his hand and squeezed it, comforting him. He intertwined your fingers and guided you to the entrance.
After a while, people started to arrive one by one, family and friends, and even some random people who had taken an interest in what was happening in this new place.
Everyone was in awe at the simple yet elegant interior. The walls were off-white and the art pieces were placed perfectly. Everything is in the right place, the way they were arranged was pleasing to the eyes.
You looked around and noticed that the art pieces consisted of pictures and paintings of places very familiar to you—they were places you've been together before. There are also pictures and paintings of events that have transpired in your life. The memories came flooding in as you looked at each art piece. You looked around once more, you noticed a black screen in the middle of the gallery. It's off, what is it for? You asked yourself but brushed it off. One thing stood out though, it was a pink door leading to a room. It had its own spotlight, it also had a name on top, just like every piece here.
"Y/N." You read out loud. Why did it have your name on it? Also, why is it pink, your favorite color? And why does it have the word 'Private' beside the door?
Wooyoung was greeting everyone and thanking them for congratulating him when he noticed you looking at the pink door. He walked over to you and put his hand on your lower back.
"Wanna see what's inside?"
"Yes." You responded, curious as to what could be inside.
He took out what seemed like a remote from his pocket and pressed something on it while guiding you inside.
There were at least five of what you assumed were art pieces covered in red velvet blankets.
He removed the cover of the one on the left, revealing a painting of you grinning from ear to ear, holding a pack of your favorite gummy bear, with the name beside it, 'The most beautiful v(you).' This must've been the time he brought you your favorite snacks, that made you all excited.
Then, he removed the cover on all of them except the one in the middle. There was a picture of you sleeping, a painting of you gazing at the stars, and a sculpture of you, as in you, in your wholeness, naked body.
"Oh my god, Woo." You said, your voice small, overwhelmed with joy, and love, and—everything.
"Do you like it?" He asked, nervousness obvious in his tone.
"I love it!" You exclaimed as you hugged him.
"There's one more." He ushered you to get closer to it. When he finally removed the cover, you covered your mouth in shock.
It was a sculpture of him, on one bended knee, holding a small black velvet box. Woo took the box and copied the stance of the sculpture.
"Y/N, will you make me the luckiest man and marry me?"
It's finally happening. The man you love is proposing to you.
"You've given me all I could ever ask for. Yes, baby, I will marry you." You utter with tears in your eyes.
He carefully puts the ring on your ring finger, and yes, he bought your dream ring, he still remembers it even when you mentioned it only once, he remembered, like he always did.
He hugged you so tight you thought you would burst, and whispered, "I love you so much, my love. Thank you for everything."
"I love you more, Woo."
You went out of the room and everyone's congratulating you both.
Huh?
When your eyes caught the now turned-on screen in the middle. So that was what the remote was for.
"Woo!" You hit his arms slightly. Terrified of the thought that they must have seen the pieces inside.
"It only showed us, don't worry, I won't ever show those pieces to anyone, especially that one." He chuckled while jokingly shielding himself from your playful hit.
"Finally, Woo, you prepared so long for this. Congratulations." San said with a big smile, holding a glass of wine.
"You knew?" You asked San with one eyebrow raised.
"Yup, everyone knew, except you." He uttered with slight amusement in his tone.
Wooyoung sure knew how to throw surprises because you didn't expect this one bit. But you're happy he did, cause this became one of the best days in your life. The thought of marrying this man made you giddy.
Your mom hugged you and gave you a kiss on the cheek.
"I'm quite curious to know what's inside that." Your mom said, pointing at the pink door.
You and your fiancé looked at each other with knowing eyes and a huge grin.
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