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#i try hard to draw again but drawing and the Christmas vibe inside me is gone…
blazingstarship · 10 months
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Wip wip🥰🥰🙈🙈
…this went from flirting “I love your blue eyes” to under the mistletoe asking “Kusje?” Kissy?
Listen. Kusje is cute. “What’s “kusje?”” “Means a little kiss. It sounds more cute.”
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canonfatbisexualenby · 9 months
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Word Count: 965
Rating: G (source material is TV-14/MA tbc)
Pairing: Alice M.urphy x Amy
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Amy sighed and smoothed out her clothing. Her boss, Alice, was currently in a sour mood and had the door to her office closed.
The office ‘funny’ guys, Adam, Blake and Anders, had orchestrated a ‘strike’ to celebrate a holiday in mid-July that they called ‘Half Christmas’.
Amy had never really ‘got’ their sense of humor, especially when it came to the endless pranks they played on her coworkers. But to be fair she didn’t really get pranks when anyone did them.
As much as she hated to jump on the bandwagon, she didn’t want to be the odd one out in the office. The Half-Christmas Hater, so to speak. So she had started crafting everyone origami cranes.
It was a relatively new hobby for her, so a lot of them were lopsided and crumpled due to lack of skill and steady hand. But she had tried super hard on one of them. And that one was for Alice.
She knew crushing on her boss was not advisable, and she also wasn’t sure if Alice was into women That Way. She got vibes sometimes, but had yet to hear any verbal confirmation.
She also knew she wasn’t the only one crushing on her. Adam made it very apparent he had feelings for Alice, as he wasn’t shy about showing it. And she didn’t necessarily feel she was ‘competing’ with him as A) people weren’t trophies, and B) he was a complete and total bonehead.
But it still sunk her stomach to know she might not ‘be in the running’ simply because she was another woman.
She sighed and tried to shake the thoughts from her head, gathering the courage to knock on the door.
She gingerly knocked and quickly heard a snappy ‘What?!’
“Um, I’m sorry if it’s a bad time Ms. Murphy, but um, I have a little something for you.” Amy replied, trying to make her tone as soft and polite as possible. “For Half-Christmas.” she quickly added on.
She heard only the ringing of phones and general office chatter for what felt like forever, nearly accepting defeat and walking back to her desk clump, when the door cracked slightly.
She stepped back a little and saw Alice peeking through the slot.
“I thought you were a little wiser than to play along with all that.” the woman stated, arching an eyebrow as she peered down at Amy’s hands.
“Come in.” Alice muttered quietly and opened the door more. Amy nodded and stepped inside the office.
Amy stood awkwardly as Alice sat back down in her chair. She noticed the woman grimace and rub at her temples.
She looked up and raised her brows “Are you just gonna stand there or...?” Amy blushed mildly and shook her head. She took a seat in one of the guest chairs.
Alice looked back down at a stack of papers, sighing heavily.
Amy stared for a moment, surprised Alice had invited her in. She seemed to only tell people to come in when she had to fire them or scold their performance.
Alice furrowed her eyebrows as she scanned over the papers, sighing again. Her brown eyes seemed filled with worry, but about what Amy wasn’t sure.
She realized in that moment she didn’t actually know much about her boss. She knew she was in her mid-30s, had a brother and was married once.
But she didn’t know her personally. She knew it was just the corporate world worked, that she probably wouldn’t ever know much more. But it made her sad nonetheless.
Amy had trouble making friends in general, let alone at her job that she could barely stand. She lead a somewhat lonely life but didn’t dare dump that on anyone.
“So,” Alice interrupted her thoughts “What did you want to give me?” she asked, eyes not looking away from the papers.
Amy looked down at the paper crane in her hands and suddenly felt like child with a crude drawing that they were ashamed of. But she had gotten this far and couldn’t back out now.
“Um...” she lifted her hands from below the desk and presented the bird. Alice’s eyebrows stayed in a confused position for a moment, before her expression softened.
“Did you make that?” The woman asked, her mouth turning up into a half smile. For a minute Amy thought she was teasing and blushed.
“Y-yea.” she looked down at the carpet. “Just a hobby I got into recently.” She rubbed the back of her neck nervously, trying to balance the crane in one hand, and looked up.
“Very cute.” Alice replied, opening her own hand and making a ‘may I?’ expression. Amy nodded. Alice carefully lifted the crane from Amy’s hand, her fingertips briefly brushing against Amy’s palm.
Alice examined the origami piece for a few seconds before finally placing it on the shelf behind her, next to her trophies and framed photos. Amy blushed again and started to protest.
“You don’t have to display it here, if you don’t want to.” She interlaced her fingers and placed them in her lap.
“I want to.” Alice said, turning back towards Amy. “I think it’s really sweet of you to do something like that for me.”
“I know I’m not always the easiest to work with.” Alice sighed and began writing. “But, I take my job seriously and I just want you all to as well.” Amy nodded “I understand.”
Alice looked up briefly and smiled, causing Amy’s stomach to fill with butterflies.
“Well, I’ve really got to get into these papers. I hope you have a great night, Amy.” Alice messed with her computer mouse, trying to get the screen to turn on.
Amy shyly nodded and slowly lifted herself from the chair, her head full of gleeful thoughts.
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Taglist 🏷️ (please let me know if you want to be added or removed): @gideongrovel @deadlock @bob-in-tekken-8
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slightlymore · 4 years
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fem reader x kun x doyoung x ten
genre: smut, pwp, some crack because 96 line duh
warnings: 4some and everything regarding that,,, unprotected, cum play, toys, overstimulation, masturbation, fingering, oral, little slaps to the coochie and thighs, grinding, anal ahem let’s go
idk what spirit possesed me while writing this 😳😳 don't take me accountable it was not me I swear ✋✋✋absolutely not for the faint of heart
vibe: they give you some birthday cake :)
words: 3.8k
_____
Ten groaned after he put a foot in the candle-lit living room. 
"Y/N, when you invited me for dinner I didn't expect to see the faces of those two idiots as well."
Doyoung, kneeling on the soft carpet in front of the tv, rolled his eyes while Kun furrowed his eyebrows offended. 
You patted Ten's shoulder with a giggle. 
"It's a festive dinner, the more, the merrier." 
"I hate to say that Ten's right, because he's never right, but I also thought this was a romantic duo escape," Doyoung finished arranging his presents in the dedicated spot as if it were Christmas and sighed. 
"Well,” Ten took a chip from the bowl in front of Doyoung, “I see that we share one brain cell. Is that the good shirt Kun? The one that shows off the pecs?" Ten teased the older who scoffed. 
"Do you know how cold it is?" he eyed Ten's exposed chest as he had three open buttons. 
Doyoung snorted.
You bit your lower lip to not giggle again then clapped your hands once as to get their attention. 
"No fighting for one night. Please? The food will be here soon." 
"Wait, you didn't cook?" Ten placed his gifts on the coffee table. 
You shook your head and he chuckled, high fiving you. 
"What are we doing in the meantime? Movie?" Kun sat on the couch, staring at the way Ten didn't let your hand go for a few more moments. "Come sit here," he continued, patting the spot near him, "you said you were very tired."
You sighed and fell on the couch, the sudden movement making Kun wobble so he grabbed your thigh to sustain himself. He considered it a very comfortable armrest since he didn't show any desire to take his hand away. 
"We can open the gifts," Ten sat on the ground in front of you with a wiggle of the eyebrows. 
Doyoung whined dramatically. "But it took me so much time to arrange them aesthetically."
"No one cares about yours. Y/N, open mine," the younger smiled excited, his smirk making you chuckle once and you accepted the gift he was extending you. 
"What's this?" 
Doyoung brought his gifts along and sat on the other side of the couch, his shoulder rubbing on you when he tried to find a more comfortable position. 
"Open it and you'll see," Ten murmured. 
The box under the wrapping paper was foreign to you so you shook it a few times. Kun frowned trying to read better and Doyoung gasped after a few moments of blinking. 
"Ten? Is this a vibrator?" you finally asked when your hand wrapped the pink toy. 
Ten laughed at your reaction and took the object from your hands. 
"Happy birthday. It's a remote vibrator," he explained happily. "You can control it with your phone. Remember when you told me about how it's hard for you to change speed on your vibrator in certain positions? Since it's hard to reach?" 
Kun and Doyoung shifted on their seats at his words and you felt your face burn. "Ten! That was confidential," you grabbed the toy back and shoved it into its box.
"Make sure to try it. If you need help to understand how it works I can help you," he winked and you couldn't help but giggle a little. 
"Well, now you have to check mine," Doyoung disrupted the moment by shoving his box in your arms instead. 
Ten leaned back on his hands with a grin, so sure of his gift being the best one that he choked on air at the sight of the white delicate material in your hands. 
"Oh, Doyoung! It's beautiful!" you touched the lingerie with your fingertips before lifting it, looking at the way the light could easily pass through it. "I hope it fits."
"It will," Doyoung was proudly smiling at you, probably patting himself on the shoulder in his head. 
"Doyoung keeps staring at your ass so he probably knows your size but I won't believe it will fit until I see you in that myself," Ten passed his tongue on his lip and you rolled your eyes positively amused. 
"Ten, stop being horny challenge," Kun murmured. 
"I can let you see her in my gift if you let me also teach her how to use the toy," Doyoung offered a deal. 
"Uhm? Guys? I'm right here?" 
Ten and Doyoung ignored you, deep into their stares battles until Ten smiled slyly as if they silently came to a compromise by themselves. 
"Y/N? What do you seriously think about that?" he locked eyes with you, the heaviess of that suggestion making a lump form inside your throat. 
"Model that for us?" Doyoung whispered on your side. "We just want to make sure it fits," he raised his palms, no sly intentions - he meant.
Passing the occasion to fuck your hottest friends on your birthday? You were all heated up at the thought and you did want to hide away, but their hungry eyes gave you courage. 
So you shrugged, faking nonchalance. "Okay."
The guys let out surprised sounds and Kun's hands on his gifts tightened, making the packet crinkle. 
Doyoung sat up from the couch and Ten followed suit as if needing to move. The sudden change of air made your hair swoosh and you chuckled before noticing Kun's gift. 
"Oh, right," you tried to take it but Kun was quick to pull it away. 
"It's not for me?" you blinked at him a few times. 
"Uhm," Kun sucked the air through his teeth. 
"Oh? Kunnie is embarrassed that his gift is very PG? Did you buy socks?" Ten teased him, the hot pink toy already in his hands making his image even wilder. 
"Come on, Kun," you smiled. "Whatever it is, it's alright. I'll love it," you assured him, stretching one hand again and you both laughed as he kept it out of your reach. "Kun!" you grunted, almost climbing in his lap. 
The man slid away from you on the couch, your body hovering over his when he didn't have any more space to run away to, until you straddled his waist and made your way upwards, grabbing at his extended arms and pulling down. 
A little triumphal squeal left your lips when you reached the box and you quickly opened it. Kun let out a defeated sigh, his free hands now resting on your thighs draped on both sides of his torso. 
So concentrated on the gift, you didn't even notice the lack of teasing from the other two when Kun whispered. 
"You can use it as a blindfold."
The silk scarf in your hands felt like water on your skin. 
"What?" you finally realized what Kun said. 
"Like this," he sat up and your body slid down to his thighs in the movement. He took the scarf and gently placed it on your eyes. 
It felt so soft on your eyelids that you sighed pleased. 
You chuckled slightly embarrassed from the sudden silence but it was quick to get disrupted when you felt your lips kissed gently by Kun. 
"It heightens your other senses," he whispered like a demonstration.
The other two groaned loudly, bickering about how you needed to change into the lingerie first before doing anything else. But your mind was too concentrated on how Kun's body felt under yours and on his hands palming your lower back and going to cup your ass to actually hear anything at all. 
You pushed into the kiss, even more, diving your hands into Kun's hair, the blindfold making the sensation even more acute indeed.
"Kun, don't be greedy," you heard Doyoung talk and Kun let your tongue go. You really liked it and desperately wanted to keep your mouth occupied, so when Kun turned you around with your back to touch his chest, you hummed pleased to feel someone's lips on yours again. A different taste and a different technique and you wondered if it was Doyoung, his teeth on your lower lip making you whine. 
"I knew you were a biter," you murmured and his breath, hitting your face as he chucked so close to you, caressed your skin so deliciously that you wanted to feel it everywhere. And thank goodness that Kun was there because he gave you just that, his tongue licking your neck in little circles before he started to suck on it. You whimpered and felt Doyoung pull your jaw, even more, catching all of your sounds with his mouth again. 
"I washed it-" you heard Ten enter the living room again and you wondered when he left in the first place. "Oh shit, yall already like this?" he commented and you dropped your hand from Doyoung's stomach to his crotch and felt his hard rock cock under the pants. He bit your lower lip again at the sensation and you whined, mirroring his heavy breaths. Then you whined again, this time alone when Kun's hands were quick to pull your sweater off your frame. He adjusted your blindfold again before palming your arms at the sudden goosebumps formed on your skin. 
In a second your lips got occupied again and this time you tasted Ten's chapstick instead of Doyoung's mints, the latter probably occupied with fumbling with your pants. Your bra got opened by Kun's hands at the same moment your bottoms got dragged away from your legs. Your knees buckled under Doyoung's cold touch and he whistled silently when you opened them up to drape over Kun's legs. The latter's fingers were gently cupping your soft breasts and you had to break off the kiss to pant. Ten didn't complain and promptly dropped to your chest instead, letting his tongue draw wet stripes around your nipples then flicking your swollen buds with such vigour to make you squirm in Kun’s arms. 
“You’re so fucking wet,” you heard Doyoung’s voice somewhere on your left, probably enjoying the view. “You like to have three guys all over you, don’t you?” 
Your mind started to buzz when Kun’s hands dropped to your stomach, your breasts occupied by Ten’s mouth, and when they grasped at the cotton of your panties you squeezed your thighs together. 
Doyoung clicked his tongue and lightly slapped them open again. “Be a good girl and open for Kun.” 
“Are you going to take my fingers well, baby?” you heard the latter whisper into your ear. You moaned, letting your head fall backwards on his shoulder and Kun was quick to suck on your exposed neck. 
“Yeah,” you breathed out and your hands automatically went to Ten’s hair and pulled when Doyoung hooked his fingers under your panties and dragged them down your legs. 
Completely nude in front of them, you could feel Kun’s jeans rubbing on your bare ass skin, his soft sweater making you want to fall deeper into his embrace. 
“Fuck, I might just cum right now,” Ten murmured, lightly caressing your legs.
You wondered what he was looking at but then in a moment your lips got parted by Kun's fingers and when he started to gently rub your wetness, everyone swore softly under their breath, and you knew.
You whined and arched your back into his touch, the thought of giving them all a show going to your head. And you got even dizzier when Kun turned your head around to shove his tongue inside your mouth just when you felt someone else's tongue lap at your core. 
The wet sounds were sinful and there were so many hands on your body that you squirmed, the heat of them collecting all inside the nub someone was mercilessly flicking. And when he groaned, breathing out on your pussy, you recognized his voice and tried to imagine just how hot Doyoung looked between your legs. 
"I want to see you," you murmured breathlessly against Kun's mouth. Ten clicked his tongue amused. 
"Don't think so."
"You need to cum first, baby. Is that alright?" Kun asked with a low raspy voice.
His hands kept roaming your breasts and his cock was so hard against your ass that you wanted him to bury it in you already.
A loud wet smack made it difficult for you to talk and Doyoung's soft laugh sent vibrations through your body. 
"Yeah. This is how I want you. Fucked so good it's difficult to talk." 
Your legs twitched as you felt his fingertips nudge at your entrance and when you felt one slowly pumping you, your own fingers gripped Kun's arms that were keeping up thighs apart.
"If you're like this with just one finger, what's going to happen with all of our cocks?" Ten wickedly whispered near your jaw and you realized he was kneeling on the couch near you. 
"Are you going to be a good girl and take Ten in your soft mouth, baby?" Kun's teeth grated at your earlobe and you gasped loudly, feeling Doyoung inserting his second finger, scissoring inside of you so deliciously to make you beg. 
"Close, please, so close-," you mumbled then moaned Doyoung's name as he sucked on your hard clit. 
Your sounds got all choked up as you felt Ten's fingers tapping at your lower lip. You opened your mouth wide, tongue out waiting for him. Kun's blunt nails dug into your ass at the view and Ten grunted, presumably fisting his cock before slowly pushing past your lips. You relaxed your jaw and lifted your palms to place on his stomach but Kun was quick to grab your wrists and block your movements. 
"We want you helpless, baby. No touching. Let Ten have fun with you as he pleases."
His voice was so teasing that your whined, face stuffed with Ten's cock, giving Doyoung even more drive to eat you all out. He knew you were close so he picked up the pace, for a moment the only sounds in the room - your wet pussy and choking sounds. The vibrations of your throat were driving Ten insane as he held your head with one hand and fucked your mouth. Kun's fingers flicking your nipples just added to it and you were completely gone, cumming on Doyoung's hot tongue in seconds, legs shaking and hands gripping the first thing you could find. 
"Fuck, you're so good," Ten's voice was becoming a whine as he let you go to breathe and come down your high. 
Doyoung's lips were peppering kisses on your thighs as Kun's praises lingered in your ears. 
"Now give us another one, babe," Doyoung hovered over you and kissed your lips, letting you have a taste of your arousal. 
You dragged the blindfold to your neck and squinted, the view keeping you dizzy. 
You turned your head to Ten and opened your mouth again, shifting off Kun's lap. Ten was quick to slide on your tongue, hand grabbing a fistful of your hair to anchor himself. You whined and felt Kun's hands grab your waist, letting him adjust your body on all fours to his liking. And when you heard his belt unbuckling, your whole body twitched again. 
"Shit," he let his palm drag between your wet lips, wetting his cock with his fist and pumping himself a few times. 
Ten was kind enough to slide out as Kun stretched you out because it felt so good that you gritted your teeth. 
"Good girl," Doyoung hummed, hand moving your hair out of your face. "Does that feel good?" 
"Yeah," you breathed out. "Want your cock too."
Doyoung inhaled sharply and took his phone out of the back pocket. Ten moaned curses and you looked up right in time to see the hot spurts before closing your eyes. You felt them on your face and you were quick to open your mouth as well. 
"Fuck, Y/N," Ten breathed out, collecting some with his fingers and shoving them in your mouth. You licked them thoroughly, jolting as Kun spanked your ass once as if requiring your attention. He didn't need that, because the way his heavy cock felt inside of you was the only thing roaming your head, and when Doyoung finally got close too, you realized what the phone was needed for. 
The buzz of the vibrator filled your ears and when he placed it on your nipples first you thought you were going to go insane. 
"Hm, our little fuck toy enjoys this quite a lot," Doyoung hummed, letting it slide down your stomach. 
"Do our little toy also want all of her pretty holes used?" Kun asked, his spit falling between your asscheeks under his thumb. He caressed you gently before giving it a trial press down. 
"Yeah yeah please," you breathed out, wiggling your ass against his stomach when he stopped fucking you. 
"Toy or cock princess?" Ten caressed your face with both hands, lips so close that you were dying to kiss him. 
"Cock."
"Hm," he smiled wickedly. "Doyoung, you heard the order."
Said man chuckled. "Yes ma'am."
Kun was quick to slide out and you whined at the sudden emptiness. The toy passed from Doyoung's hands to Ten's and for a moment you wondered what they would use that for now. 
"Ride me, love," Kun looked breathtaking leaning down on the couch. You turned around and straddled his lap, the build-up of your orgasm already gone and you were desperate to go back there. 
You closed your eyes as you sat on his cock again, sliding down slowly until meeting the base with your clit. Kun grabbed your waist and pulled you down on his chest, your nipples starting to rub on his sweater. You loved it but needed his naked body so you slid your palms underneath it to meet his hot skin. He lifted his arms up and threw it to the side, letting your breasts bounce on his face as you rolled your hips. 
A sudden movement made you turn your head behind you to where Doyoung placed himself. His palms soothed your spine and got to your face. You accepted his fingers into your mouth as Kun watched with open lips - just the view of his cock disappearing inside of you enough to make him go over the edge. As Doyoung's fingers gently nudged at your asshole, Kun gladly accepted your nipples in his mouth, hands squeezing the base of them. 
"Relax, baby. You're doing so well," Doyoung's low voice accompanied his fingering. 
"Fuck," you grabbed Kun's hands, the difference between their movements, gently and harsh, making you unable to think. And you almost forgot about Ten right where the buzz of the vibrator got closer to you. 
"Ah shit," Doyoung groaned through gritted teeth, his tip slowly going past your entrance. "I've always wanted to fuck your pretty ass."
You inhaled sharply at the sensation, Kun stopping with difficulty to give you time to adjust to Doyoung's girth and when you begged them to move again, they didn't hold back. 
It was intoxicating and so dirty that your head was spinning. They fucked you at different speeds on purpose and you were bouncing between their bodies like an actual fuck toy. 
"Such a good slut, taking two cocks at the same time," Ten commented, his hand already palming himself again. 
Kun let his head fall back and closed his eyes, his trembling hands on your waist telling you he was close. 
"Are you going to let Kun cum inside that little pussy of yours?" Doyoung leaned down, grabbing your jaw to tilt your head backwards.
"Yeah, yes, yes," you mumbled nonsense, so close to the edge yourself. 
Doyoung's hand slid to your neck and pressed a little, choking your loud moans.
It all got desperate in a matter of moments, Kun's rhythmic thrusts completely gone and Doyoung's quick snaps to keep you on edge, all until Kun groaned and went limp underneath you. His cum filled you all up as he thrust a few more times riding his high. 
"Not a single baby girl will remain unsatisfied," Ten announced, breath heavy thanks to the spectacle, the toy in his hands finally making sense when he placed it on your clit. Everyone groaned as you clenched on their cocks, Kun's half-hard one still inside of you. 
"Fuck, Ten-," he whimpered. 
"What is it, Kun? Can't take some overstimulation?" his friend teasingly retorted. 
"Cumming-cumming so close-," you fell on Kun's chest and he wrapped your body with his arms as it swung back and forth at Doyoung's movements. 
The latter was also close given his heavy breath and tight grip on your ass. 
"Are you going to cum with me, love?" he asked. "Can't do it alone, understood?" 
"Shit Doyoung-," 
"Understood?" he slapped your ass harshly and you mewled, nodding fast. 
"Keep that in," Ten whispered, adjusting the vibrator to hit the sweetest spot on purpose. 
Kun whined against your face, his cock already hard again inside of you but unable to move. 
"Three-," Doyoung's voice was rough. 
You whined, nails leaving red marks on Kun's shoulders. 
"I can't anymore!" 
"Two-"
Your legs started to shake uncontrollably as Doyoung's cock railed you just as intensly. 
"Cum for me princess," he finally ordered and you almost screamed, the orgasm washing over you so hard that you were afraid you'd blackout. Doyoung came just as hard, his cum filling your other hole to the rim. 
Ten gave you a break and took away the wet toy, his eyes blown out and panting lips. 
"You're so fucking gorgeous," he whispered. 
Kun's cock twitched inside of you and you let him go, sliding down on his body as Doyoung sat back on the couch, eyes trained on the way you were spilling with his seed. You let your legs drap over his thighs, resting on your stomach as you reached Kun's cock, eagerly taking it into your mouth. Your ass in the air on Doyoung's lap was too pretty to be left alone and Ten was quick to hand the other the toy. 
"Fuck, you're amazing," Kun grabbed your face, looking at the way you pursed your lips around him. 
You were a mess - pleasure tears poking at your eyes, saliva on your chin and cum sliding out of your holes. Doyoung was quick to push it inside again with the vibrator though, loving the way your ass jiggled in his hold under his light spanks. You cried out at the overstimulation then whined helplessly again as Ten spread your legs apart.
"Can you take me as well, love?" he pressed his tip on your raw clit and when you let out a positive moan he slid inside easily with a deep swear. He felt heavenly and his whiny void was by far the sexiest. 
Doyoung stood up to give Ten some room to play in and he got close to your stuffed face. You hummed around Kun's cock and your body shook as Ten gently placed the toy between your ass cheeks as he fucked your tight pussy.
You looked up at Doyoung with glossy eyes and letting Kun go for a moment you let your tongue out. 
Doyoung smiled wickedly and slid his cock inside your mouth.
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snowboiwinwin · 3 years
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Ateez as some of my students:
Hongjoong:
one of the older ones
it’s literally his last year of school
and he is SO DONE
but still super determined and hardworking
annoyed whenever the younger kids are being too loud
always way too hard on himself and never accepting when I tell him he is doing a great job
“… yeah, thanks I guess.” *cue his cute giggle*
revising his texts 5 times before he finally submits them
too hard on himself
but the politest and most well behaved young man ever
me: “don’t worry, just send me your finished papers whenever you’re ready. don’t stress it!”
hongjoong: “… like… even on the weekend? aren’t those your rest days?” BLESS HIM
me: *dying on the inside because of cuteness* “well, actually yeah, but I really don’t mind.”
hongjoong: “thank you so much! it means a lot!”
Seonghwa:
he is BABY
duuuude, I cannot handle this cuteness
he also participates via online classroom
and he is super young, so very new to all of this
but he is trying his best and works very hard
literally the only kid that uses the chat function and actually reads my messages when I type something into it
he always lets me know when he finished his work via chat because he is afraid he will disturb us :(
whenever he has an assignment to do, for example, writing an email to a friend, he always directs the texts at me
so in the “to ….” handle, he always puts my name (I hope this makes sense lol)
I love this kid
the other time he had to describe an imaginary animal and provide some information about it
the goal was to describe the animal so detailed that I can imagine how it looks as well
and he understood the assignment but he also wanted to help me out and sent me a drawing of his animal
“I just wanted to help you out a little Ms. Teacher.”
my guys, I died once again
Yunho:
an angel with the biggest, most innocent eyes
he is a pretty little boy and so insanely cute
super shy at first but the longer class lasts, the more he talks
he is a very social kid, always finding friends in every person
he even befriended Honjoong, the kid that is much older than him
after distance learning ended, he burst into the class and starred at me for a few minutes
when I asked him if he needed anything he just said
“I just missed seeing you in real life, that’s all.” And sat down in his chair
I almost cried
is genuinely interested in everything the other students tell the class
we usually take turns after holidays and everyone gets to tell a story
Yunho is always super attentive and listens to everyone’s story closely
he even asks additional questions because he is SO curious
always stays after class and tells me something that he found great about my lesson
or he just repeats what I said because he wants me to see that he paid attention
“Goodbye Miss teacher! I’m looking forward to seeing you tomorrow! Have a great rest of the day!”
"You too Yunho, see you soon!” *dies on the inside*
Yeosang:
he LOVES to discuss
constantly asking questions he knows the answers to already
me, the teacher, is never right – but he is… all the time
he really is never in the mood to work, I have to beg him to do something
still manages to get great grades – don’t ask me how
“but like… why exactly do I need to do this?”
“Listen Yeosang, this is on our agenda today. You need to finish it.”
“I get that… but why?”
BECAUSE OKAY
literally every sentence coming out of his mouth starts with a “but”
always tired – boy is doing so much outside of school
dance practice, he plays an instrument, extra language classes… he is insane
no matter how annoying he might be, he spreads positive vibes and always lifts the mood
“Miss teacher? For our last class, can we throw a Christmas party?”
“Uhm.. excuse me sir? A Christmas party? This is a school.”
“…. Just bring cookies *eye roll*… please? Thank you! *cue overly sweet smile*”
San:
always arrives 20 minutes before class time
constantly gives me a heart attack
I enter class and he starts smiling real big and shouts excitedly “HI MISS TEACHER!”
usually has a whole five course meal in front of him
“I was hungry… I’ll be finished as soon as class starts” – he never is finished in time
trust him to have some sort of story to tell – every SINGLE day
the born entertainer
can talk 90 minutes straight without taking a breather
claims that I’m his favorite teacher
and always tells me how much he misses me whenever he has a different class
“I like you. You are a nice teacher. And we don’t have to work that much in your classes.”
“… it wasn’t really wise to mention the last part…. But I appreciate the compliment!”
*one kid in the back of the class* “GREAT! NOW SHE IS GOING TO GIVE US MORE WORK!”
San literally freezes, eyes almost bulging out of his eyes – it was in this moment he knew, he fucked up (just kidding, I’m not THAT mean haha)
overall a lovely baby that talks way too much for his own good
Mingi:
sleepy baby
he comes to class tired af, he leaves class even more tired
this boy never gets enough sleep – ever
and no one knows why
he apparently sleeps 12 hours every night, still he could spend his whole day sleeping
but I feel bad for this kids
has a lot on his plate as well
whenever he feels slightly energetic
he talks to me about everything
favorite topic: KPOP
he almost hugged me when he found out that I listen to KPOP
“YOU LISTEN TO KPOP???? OMG!!!! WHO DO YOU LISTEN TO?! ATEEZ IS SO AMAZING I CANNOT BELIEVE THIS!!”
poor baby thought he was the only KPOP stan to exist
but unfortunately our conversations need to be cut short
cause we are here to learn and not to fangirl
wanted to give me all his photocards, because he was too happy about me being a KPOP stan
I obviously declined because no baby, treasure them
a lovely sleepy gal, I adore him
Wooyoung:
he is one of the students in distance learning
so I always need to do a Zoom-Meeting so he can join class
just recently he has found the “virtual background” feature
it’s a disaster
one time he was on a bridge, his upper body standing in the middle of it
but last time really was the funniest thing he did so far
I had to try so hard not to laugh
something went wrong when he had to cut out himself, so he would be visible on the greenscreen
suddenly his eyeball and half of his nose were flying in outer space
“MISS TEACHER! I can see aliens up here! They told me to tell you that I have to leave. They want me to teach them how to play soccer. Okay, bye!”
“Jung Wooyoung, if you dare leave, we will have a big problem. I will turn of the virtual backgrounds for future meetings. And that’s my last word.”
“NO MISS TEACHER! I’M SO SORRY! Please don’t take my happiness away from me.”
cue the dramatic fall from his chair but standing up seconds later to let everyone in class know he is fine
“Sorry aliens. I am busy now, I need to learn something before we can play.”
he knows what I want to hear
Jongho:
very shy
doesn’t talk much
he seems a bit insecure because while the others are outgoing and loud, he is more reserved
but sometimes
only sometimes
he actually says something, that has the class in tears
it’s always so unexpected and DRY
you would never expect it
one time the kids where talking about how bad their German grades were (they really struggle) and they were all discussing and coming up with plans on how to tell their parents
Jongho was the only one that stayed quiet until I asked him how he tells his parents that he has a bad grade
and he literally, dry as hell, went “I don’t. My mom would literally send me back to Asia so I better stay quiet.”
I DIED
that dude is a fucking comedian
a very determined and hardworking guy too
he loves to learn new things and is also very curious
wouldn’t trade this guy for any other student, no matter how annoying he is
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kindahoping4forever · 4 years
Text
Take Me Home For Christmas // Ashton Irwin
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Thank you to everyone for the incredible feedback about yesterday’s fic! I can’t believe we’re nearing the end of Hoe For The Hoe-lidays - Cass and I hope you’ve enjoyed our holiday stories and that you’ll continue to enjoy them even once the holiday season is over. 
Be on the lookout for today’s Cal blurb to be posted to @cal-puddies​​ and absolutely, 1000% like set a reminder on your phone if you have to, do not forget to come back here to my blog tomorrow for the closing ceremony of The Hoe-lidays: the latest galaxybrain co-write from me and Cass. No spoilers but it might be my fav collab of ours to date.
Warnings: Banter, bonding and boning with stranger in a bar!Ash (the fic is much sweeter than that but I couldn’t resist the alliteration), casual protected sex, female masturbation, use of a vibrator  
Word Count: 3000
Hoe For The Hoe-lidays Masterlist
Masterlist // Taglist and Ko-Fi linked above
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“Two years! Love of my life, best thing that ever happened!” Ashton raises his glass in an exaggerated toast and the inquiring stranger smiles kindly, taking their own drink and walking away.
You don’t know how you managed to wait until the coast was clear before you burst out laughing. He glances behind him to make sure the curious patron is gone before he turns to you, grinning. “Should I have said three or four years, was that too much for two? My relationships typically don’t last even that long,” he admits, shaking his head.
“Listen, if I were well-adjusted enough to know what it’s like for someone to call me ‘the best thing that ever happened’ to them, I probably wouldn’t be spending Christmas Eve alone in a bar,” you point out with a laugh.
“But you’re not alone,” he leans in, nudging you a bit. “You’re out with your boyfriend of two years, celebrating his return home from an extensive and wildly successful world tour with his band.”
You cackle, “OK, that part was definitely a flourish too far, I don’t think anybody bought that.”
He smiles slyly. “You’re probably right,” he lilts, taking a sip, giving you a look over his glass that makes you grateful your holiday had turned out the way it did.
You’d made the tough call not to fly home for Christmas this year; you couldn't afford it and you didn't feel right taking your parents up on their offer to pay. Unfortunately, literally everyone you knew did get out of town for the holidays, leaving you with nowhere to go and no one to see.
On Christmas Eve, you ended up at the corner bar, which was nowhere near as lively as you'd hoped: save for what appears to be an older ladies' night out and a few stragglers, it was deserted. After exhausting your conversation options with the bartender, you ended up chatting with the man a couple stools over from you. He was handsome, charming and seemed to have an opinion or anecdote about any topic you raised. Looking for companionship, or at least some entertainment, you asked him to join you.
His name was Ash and he was in a similar predicament as you this Christmas. You didn't get a chance to get more in depth personally; maybe it's the ease you have with each other, maybe it's the way your outfits happen to complement each other but one by one, the women from the back of the bar approach you to kindly tell you what a nice couple you make and make small talk about your relationship. Rather than embarrass them - and again, for some entertainment - you both silently agree to humor them and answer as if you are together and before long, you've established an elaborate narrative for your romance.
“So where’d you take me for our anniversary this year, babe?” You grin, enjoying this game.
“Surprised you with Disney World,” he says confidently, gesturing towards the Stitch keychain decorating your car keys sitting on the bar. “Hid the plane tickets in your work bag, you found them at the office and called me to scream about it but I was already in the lobby to surprise you for lunch.”
You giggle, “Wow, not to brag about your boyfriend-ing skills or anything.”
Ashton shrugs and clinks your glass. “Nothing but the best for my girl.” You feel yourself flush and know it had to have been from his words, you both switched from booze to water quite some time ago.
“What about my birthday?” He asks, eyes playfully challenging you. “It’s in July, if that makes a difference.”
Out of the corner of your eye, you see one of the ladies you talked to earlier and you lean in, resting your hand on his, continuing to sell your story. “Intimate backyard barbeque with friends, bonfire at night. I saved up and bought that acoustic guitar you’d been eyeing online but I waited to give it to you until everyone left because I wanted it to be a special moment between us,” you say quietly, pleased with your answer.
He smiles brightly and you feel yourself actively suppressing the urge to kiss over the dimples that form on his face. “A guitar, huh? I’m actually a drummer,” he teases.
“When you tipped the bartender, there was a guitar pick mixed in with your cash,” you point out smugly.
“Oh,” he giggles, clearly a little flustered. “Didn’t realize you were payin’ such close attention to me,” he flirts.
“Gotta make sure my man gets what he wants,” you cheekily reply.
He moves in closer and you’re pretty sure he’s about to kiss you when another inquisitive customer interrupts to tipsily assert that Ash is a fool if he doesn’t “put a ring on it” this holiday season. You both take the comment in stride and laugh together when the encounter is over. The heat from your near-kiss is still there but the moment has decidedly passed.
After a few more entries into your pretend love story and a few more close encounters, the bar starts clearing out. You can’t believe you spent the whole evening talking with Ashton but you also don’t want it to end; you haven’t felt chemistry like this with someone in a long time. You walk to the door with him and you’re not surprised when you hear yourself say, “My place or yours, babe?”
He turns to you with a wide smile, amusement and what you’re hoping is lust in his eyes. “I was hoping you might say that,” he admits.
“Can’t let my travel-weary boyfriend wake up alone on Christmas morning,” you chirp, stepping out into the cool night air.
“That part of the story was actually true,” he chuckles. “I did just get home from touring with my band.”
You raise your eyebrows, interested. “Well, the part about me living just down the street was also true, so let’s start walking,” you wink, starting to lead the way. 
He laughs loudly and reaches out for your arm, smoothly pulling you into his arms for a charged kiss, the tension that’s been building all evening finally boiling over. His lips are softer than you imagined but his technique is as fevered and demanding as you’d hoped; your tongue makes its way into his mouth and you murmur when his strokes it in turn.
It’s hard to say if it’s the chilly weather or your desire but you make it back to your apartment in record time. It’s not often you bring home guys you just met but as you lead him to your bedroom, you realize how he doesn’t feel like that at all, almost as if your fictitious history together has bled into reality.
Ash shuts your bedroom door behind him and you waste no time pressing yourself into him, making out and undressing each other until you’re both down to your underwear. He lifts you up by your thighs, wrapping them around his waist; he tries to get fancy and kiss you while he carries you over to the bed, hitting his leg on the edge of the frame and almost sending you both flying.
The two of you break into laughter as he safely drops you on the bed. “Did some rearranging since last time I was over, huh, baby?” He jokes, sitting up against the headboard to rub the knot on his shin.
“Vibes were off without you here, had to get some feng shui happening,” you reply, trying to catch your breath after your giggle fit. You let your eyes roam over his near naked body. He’s fit, almost ridiculously muscular and judging by his biceps, you decide he must’ve been telling the truth about being a drummer. You didn’t expect all the tattoos you’re seeing but you definitely approve and the amused look on his face tells you he’s noticed.
“Like the new ink, babe? Wanted to surprise you,” he grins, drawing your attention to a large, dark coin decorating the left side of his ribcage. 
You crawl over to him and let your fingertips dance over the tattoo. “Very nice,” you murmur before mouthing over it. He groans when your tongue pokes out at it and you shudder at the sound, continuing to move around his chest, hoping to hear it again.
He lets you play and then flips you over so he can show you some appreciation as well. He nips and nibbles around your neck and chest, doubling back when you breathe a particularly enthusiastic sigh of approval. 
“Love this underwear, by the way,” he comments as he removes your bra. “Just like you wore on our first date. Took you home from a bar that night too”
You giggle at his addition to your story. “Oh did you? I thought earlier we said our first date was at an Italian restaurant.” You gasp as his mouth encases your nipple.
“Well… dinner then drinks, obviously,” he retorts, snickering against you. He pulls back to discard your panties and you swear you can almost feel his eyes devouring you. “Holy shit, you’re gorgeous.”
You beam and beckon him closer; before you can kiss him like you planned, his mouth is back on your neck, trying to relocate that spot under your jaw that caused you to moan so boldly, he felt his cock twitch. His hand is busy between your legs, tracing lightly around your lips before dipping into your folds to see what makes you tick.
You feel him hard against your thigh as he plays with you so you reach down to return the favor; you do your best to maintain a poker face when you feel the size of him through his boxers but Ashton’s fingers inside you undoubtedly feel the surge of wetness your realization brings. 
You eagerly slip your hand inside his underwear and you both groan when you wrap your hand around him. His cock couldn’t be more ready for you, head dripping with precum; you spread it liberally as you touch him, thoughts racing as your hand seems to keep going and going down his length before you reach the base. You give him a squeeze, biting your lip at the feel of his weight and girth in your hand.
He quietly curses as your strokes become more confident; together you get rid of his boxers and as his cock springs free, he teases you with a smile. “Think you can take it, baby?”
“It has been a while,” you admit, slyly adding, “I mean… with you on tour and everything.” He chuckles and gives you a swat as you sit up to dig through your nightstand.
You shoot him a glance over your shoulder and he breaks character for a second, rushing out, “I… did that without even thinking, I’m sorry. Was that OK?”
You toss the condoms and lube on the bed and give his cock a few more tugs as you shrug, “Do it harder next time.”
Ash smirks as he gets situated, rolling on a condom and lubing up his length before tossing you the bottle; when you’re ready, you get up on all fours, flashing him a dazzling smile over your shoulder. “Just like our first date, right?”
He grins, kneeling behind you, large hands covering your ass, squeezing and giving it a couple firm spanks as requested. You gasp as his cock taps against your clit before pushing into you, paying close attention to your breathing to see if you need him to slow down. You hear his breath heavy as well and you know you must feel tight around him, no one has ever filled you like this before; it’s overwhelming but you’re aching with anticipation so you rock back against him, letting out a breathy “Please” for good measure.
The soft way he runs his hands over your back is a fascinating contrast to the rough snap of his hips against your ass as he drives his cock into you. You fuck with a familiarity you didn’t expect, listening to each other’s sounds to tell you what the other needs.
You stretch on the bed more, popping your ass out further, inviting him to really let you have it; the sound of a loud smack on your ass fills the room and his thrusts increase in both speed and impact. You want to think of something clever to say, to let him know how good he’s making you feel and to continue the intimacy of your fictional romance but all you can think about is how full his cock makes you feel.
You hear his breath speed up but feel his hips slowing and you deduce he’s trying to stave off his orgasm; you’re nowhere near close so you decide to improve the situation for you both. “Babe, can we try something else?” You look over your shoulder winningly. “Feels good but I need more.”
Ashton pulls out, taking a few deep breaths while you turn onto your back; he sits upright on his knees in front of you and after some brief negotiations with your flexibility, you swing your legs up on his shoulder before he slips himself back in.
This new position is quickly much more intense than either of you anticipated. He’s hitting deeper than before and you’re in heaven with his hands roving over your stomach and chest; having your legs close together like this makes you seem even tighter and you hear him breathing even faster than before.
He fucks you hard and the combination of hearing your desperate sounds, seeing your tits bounce and feeling your pussy grip his cock so tightly is too much. “Fuck… ‘s too fuckin’ good, baby… fuck,” he groans and within seconds he’s filling the condom with cum.
You moan watching as he loses himself in the feeling, slowing his hips gradually until he’s spent. He carefully slides your legs off his shoulder, offering you a peck and a quiet apology as he gets up to throw away the condom.
Maybe it’s out of habit, maybe you are just that comfortable with this stranger for some reason,  but without hesitation you reach back into your nightstand and retrieve your favorite vibrator. 
You feel Ash get back into bed and you turn to see him propped up on his side, watching you intently as you slick the vibe through your wetness. “No offense...” you start.
“None taken,” he smiles, studying your toy. “I was gonna offer you my mouth, but…”
“This’ll be a lot quicker,” you insist, teasing the tip of the toy at your entrance. “You relax, enjoy the afterglow. I’ll join you in literally like three minutes.” You push it in and click the button to start it vibrating inside you.
He scoots closer, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. “Two years in and the romance is already dead,” he jokingly laments.
You cackle loudly, clenching around your vibe and your laughs turn into a moan. “Goddammit, Ash, you wanna crack jokes or help your ol’ girl out?”
He smiles and pulls you into a sleepy kiss while his other hand grips and massages your breast. His tongue lazily dances with yours and his hands travel over your skin, caressing, teasing, igniting all while you work the vibe between your thighs.
You pull away from his mouth to pant, “Check this shit out.” You click a second button on the toy and the clitoral vibrator whirs to life. Ashton can almost immediately detect the difference in your breathing.
He rolls your nipple between his fingers, watching as your back arches and your hips swirl. “Just like that, baby, come on. Let me see you cum,” he murmurs.
You’re surprised to hear yourself call out his name when you begin clenching around your toy and you especially don’t expect to tug on his hair, silently pleading for him to kiss you while the waves of pleasure overtake your body.
You whimper and pant against his lips until you have to pull away to frantically turn the vibrator off, nearing overstimulation. You close your eyes and catch your breath, waiting for the aftershocks to stop, your legs to stop shaking. 
You finally open your eyes to see him offering you a handful of tissues he thoughtfully snagged off the bedside table; you graciously accept, wrapping them around your toy so you can set it on the nightstand. You look over at him again, gazing at each other for a beat before bursting into euphoric giggles. 
You return to the bedroom after cleaning up to find Ash laying in his boxers, messing with his phone. You don’t know if you should say it out loud but you really hope he’s not ordering a car to take him home.
“Well, I can only speak for myself but I’d call that a decidedly Merry Christmas,” you sigh exhaustedly, flopping onto the bed.
He sets his phone aside and looks you over as you stretch out beside him. “This is cute,” he smiles, pinching at the Christmas cookie themed nightshirt you threw on in the bathroom. “Would you say that was more or less fun than our first Christmas together?”
You grin at him as you try to remember what tale you’d spun back at the bar. “Oh god… car broke down on the way to my parents’ house… seasonally appropriate ‘no room at the inn’ joke… fashioned a Christmas dinner out of motel vending machine snacks?”
“That’s the one,” he cackles. A mischievous look crosses his features and he leans in to you. “You know, we haven’t reminisced about what else went on in that motel room...” He trails off, suggestively wiggling his eyebrows.
You bite your lip, pulling him closer by the chain around his neck. “Hmm... I’m actually having trouble remembering that part,” you flirt, nibbling at his bottom lip. “Maybe you could remind me, babe? And please, take your time.”
————-
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138 notes · View notes
jaskierswolf · 4 years
Note
So....about that tinsel. You sure it's only for wrapping around a Christmas tree?
What an excellent suggestion my dear.... It took me a while but, have some Jaskilion modern AU.
This is very much 18+ and smutty. Warnings: Sexual content, name calling, some dom/sub vibes, total misuse of tinsel.
______________________________
Jaskier was dancing around his living room humming away to Christmas tunes and draping sparkling tinsel around the large tree. It was probably more expensive than they could afford, two aspiring musicians working part time as baristas at the shitty little coffee shop where they had met two years ago. It hadn’t taken long for them to start shagging in the backroom, really it had been Dandelion’s fault. No one should look that gorgeous all the time, it was truly sinful. Soon after they’d decided to split the cost and move in together and now they were celebrating their first Christmas as housemates, more accurately fuck buddies.
Jaskier had had a particularly terrible date the night before. He’d been hoping that the famous Christmas magic would help him but the chemistry had been abysmal and not even copious amounts of alcohol could save the date. So he was cheering himself up with some decorating. The tree would look like Christmas had vomited over it by the time he was done. He just hoped Dandelion wasn’t the type to meticulously design his tree, otherwise they would fall out big time. Christmas wasn’t the time for perfection, it was the time for tacky shit and booze.
“Jaskier!”
Jaskier grinned and adjusted his tinsel halo. He’d purposely worn thick black eyeliner tonight, his housemate could never resist, and he was feeling lonely and horny. “In here!” He called back, undoing another button on his shirt for good measure.
“You would not believe the day I had!” Dandelion whined as he burst through the door, “I swear people are obsessed with the Christmas range. I have lost track of how many gingerbread lattes I’ve made today and we ran out of the little gingerbread men to go with them.”
Jaskier put a hand on his hip and held out a bright silver bauble. “For you, darling.”
“It doesn’t match the tinsel.” Dandelion sneered haughtily as he pulled off his cute little bobble hat.
Jaskier rolled his eyes. “So? It’s Christmas!”
“Oh god, you’re one of them,” Dandelion whined.
Jaskier smirked and flung a strand of tinsel around Dandelion’s neck, tugging hard so the aspiring musician stumbled forward. Jaskier’s lips were barely an inch away from Dandelion’s and he could feel his heartbeat start to race, a now familiar sensation around his unfairly sexy housemate. “One of who?” He asked in a low voice, keeping his grip firm on the tinsel so that Dandelion couldn’t escape. Dandelion stammered unintelligibly and whined, trying to capture Jaskier’s lips in a kiss but Jaskier pulled back. “Say please?”
“Fuck you!” Dandelion growled and wrapped his arms around Jaskier’s waist, one hand slipping down the inside of Jaskier’s jeans and squeezing his arse.
“Not tonight, sweetheart,” Jaskier ran a thumb along Dandelion’s lower lip and the blond opened his mouth, moaning wantonly as he sucked Jaskier’s thumb.
Jaskier bit back his own moan, the little whore, he knew exactly what he was doing. Jaskier had seen those pretty pink lips stretched around his cock, he knew exactly how talented Dandelion could be with his mouth. Jaskier stubbornly fought his growing arousal and smiled sweetly at his friend, brushing the edge of the tinsel along Dandelion’s cheek. Dandelion visibly shivered as his breathing grew laboured and a gorgeous red tinge painted his cheeks.
“You look absolutely divine, love, all dressed up like this,” Jaskier cooed as he tugged lightly at the tinsel. “My Christmas angel.”
Dandelion whimpered and fell to his knees. He was alway weak for the praise and affection that Jaskier loved to bestow upon him, and oh how Jaskier loved to abuse that power. “Get undressed darling, and I might let you blow me,”
“Please,”
Jaskier dropped the strand of tinsel and watch with absolute delight as Dandelion tore at his own shirt and trousers. Once he was naked, kneeling again at Jaskier’s feet, Jaskier wrapped the strand of electric blue tinsel around his swanlike neck. It looked so fucking good against his pale skin and soft golden hair. Dandelion gazed up at him with dark eyes and winked as he bit his lip. Jaskier ran his hands through Dandelion’s thick blond curls and then pulled his head back. Dandelion keened, the sweet sound falling from his lips was music to Jaskier’s ears. Jaskier licked his lips as his eyes roamed over Dandelion’s body. He was slight but still toned underneath all those layer he preferred to wear, and long blond hair cascaded over the soft pale skin of his shoulders. He truly did look like an angel, even without the tinsel.
Jaskier took the blue tinsel in his hands and pulled Dandelion forward, letting out a low moan as Dandelion mouthed at his cock through his jeans. Jaskier closed his eyes as Dandelion nuzzled against his erection. They had barely started but he felt dizzy with lust and arousal. He groaned and thrust against Dandelion’s face. The blond whimpered as he fumbled desperately with Jaskier’s zip, pulling Jaskier’s hard cock from his pants.
“Fuck,” Dandelion whispered. “Please, darling, I have to…”
“Yes,” Jaskier moaned as Dandelion’s long fingers stroked down the length of his cock.
“Thank you… sir.”
Jaskier moaned loudly as Dandelion’s tongue flicked out to taste the tip of his cock before swallowing it down in one go. Jaskier’s hips thrust forwards as his grip on Dandelion’s hair tightened. “Fuck!”
Dandelion just hummed happily around his cock, the noise of pure satisfaction made Jaskier feel heady. He’d never met anyone who loved sucking cock as much as Dandelion, and fuck did he look so good…. blond hair sticking to his flushed cheeks, eyes fixed unrelentingly on Jaskier as he sucked and licked and moaned around Jaskier’s cock. It didn’t take long before Jaskier was gasping for air, moments away from coming down Dandelion’s throat. He tugged at Dandelion’s hair. Dandelion whined, pouting as he was pulled from Jaskier’s cock.
“I wasn’t finished!”
Jaskier chuckled breathlessly and stroked Dandelion’s cheek. “If you want me to fuck you tonight then you should stop complaining.” Dandelion looked absolutely wrecked already as Jaskier pulled him to his feet, yanking at the blue tinsel that still hung around his neck. “My bedroom or yours?”
Dandelion smirked and licked his lips. “Who said it had to be a bedroom, there’s a perfectly good wall right here, sir?”
Jaskier swallowed. There was that word again, ‘sir’. Dandelion had never called him that before today but fuck it was hot. Jaskier lunged forward and pulled Dandelion into a fierce kiss, the taste of his own pre-come on still on Dandelion’s tongue. When he was satisfied that Dandelion’s lips were red and bruised from his kiss he moved to the blond’s throat, sucking and nibbling at the tender skin, delighting in the moans and gasps he was drawing from his friend. No one else sang quite as well as Dandelion, no matter how much Jaskier tried. Jaskier manoeuvred them until Dandelion’s bare back hit the wall. Jaskier kissed the bruise he’d left on Dandelion’s neck as he fumbled for the packet of lube in his pocket. Dandelion let out a peal of laughter as buried his face in Jaskier’s neck.
“Shut up.”
“Not a chance, my dear.”
“That may not be necessary…” Dandelion sang. He plucked the packet from Jaskier’s hands and tossed it to the floor.
Jaskier groaned “What. what do you mean not necessary? Are you mad?”
Dandelion giggled and nipped at Jaskier’s lips, grinding his hips against Jaskier’s. “Why don’t you touch me a find out?” He purred as he bit just below Jaskier’s ear, making him shiver.
Jaskier accepted Dandelion’s challenge eagerly, spinning his friend round so that his bare chest was pressed against the wall. Jaskier placed a kiss to Dandelion’s shoulder then scraped his fingers through Dandelion’s now messy curls. He pulled the musician’s hair back, eliciting a long guttural moan from his friend, and then squeezed his arse.
“Just fucking get on with it!” Dandelion groaned and wiggled his butt. Jaskier gave it a light slap and went to tease Dandelion’s rim but instead he just laughed.
“Oh ho ho! You little whore, how long has this been here?” He asked as he pulled the butt plug from where it had been nestled between Dandelion’s cheek, lube now trickling from the blond’s arse.
“Since my lunch break, now hurry up and fuck me, you coward!” He whined.
Jaskier grinned and stroked the strand of tinsel along Dandelion’s back as he pulled it from his shoulders and it dropped to the floor. Jaskier pulled a second packet from his pocket, rolling the condom onto his cock, stroking the length a couple of times as he gazed over Dandelion’s long naked form. God, he was so unreasonably sexy… Jaskier could spend hours just worshipping Dandelion’s body until he was writhing underneath and begging for his cock, but he would save that for another time. Right now he just needed to be inside that perfect arse, he moaned as he remembered how Dandelion had taken the time to prepare himself in the dingy bathroom of the coffeeshop, how he’d been working for the last few hours with the plug in his arse, how desperate he’d been for Jaskier to fuck him.
“Shit,” he hissed as he finally slipped inside Dandelion, warm and tight around his cock. He could barely catch his breath as he slowly fucked his friend, getting deeper with every thrust.
They moaned in unison as Jaskier bottomed out. He bit down on the soft skin at the base of Dandelion’s neck, burying in face in the soft curls as he began to move. Dandelion was letting a stream of curses and gasps already, his face hidden in his arm as he was pressed harder up against the wall. Jaskier was barely coherent himself, his thrusts already losing their rhythm, Dandelion cried out pitifully, a choked sob, as Jaskier found his prostrate. He grinned as he bit and licked at Dandelion’s neck, angling his thrusts so he was hitting that spot unrelentingly.
“Fuck!” Dandelion whined “Touch me, you bastard.”
Jaskier wasted no time in wrapping his hand around Dandelion’s already leaking cock, stroking it in time with his thrusts as they both chased their own orgasm. “God, you’re so fucking beautiful,” He gasped as Dandelion keened and spilled all over his hand.
A couple more thrusts and Jaskier was following him over the edge, stars dancing in front of his vision. His knees went weak as he pulled out. Dandelion slunk down the wall and Jaskier collapsed next to him breathing heavily. He pulled off the condom and tied it before chucking it in the bin next to them.
Dandelion laughed and rested his head on Jaskier’s shoulder. “We’re bloody good at that.”
Jaskier grinned. “Yeah, yeah we are.”
“How come you’re still dressed and I’m completely naked?” Dandelion asked, Jaskier glanced over at him and sure enough Dandelion was pouting up at him. He rolled his eyes and pulled his friend into a kiss.
“Because you are a slut, darling,” he said with a wink as he pulled away. “The prettiest little whore I’ve ever known.”
Dandelion scoffed. “Says you, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you button a shirt properly.”
“Oh fuck off.”
Dandelion’s hand trailed down his chest, unbuttoning the rest as he went. “We should go clear up,” he said, far too innocently.
Jaskier grinned. “Saves water if we share.”
Dandelion winked and stood up, pulling Jaskier to hit feet. “I love your thinking, darling.” ________________________
Tag list @electricrituals @slythnerd @hailhailsatan @thecomfortofoldstorries @gelos @moonysourenza @00qtee @honeysuckletook @elliestormfound @sleepy-thief @artistsfuneral  @kittynannygaming @stinastar @fontegagrilledcheese @baka-yu @anythinggoesfandoms @veritasrose @trickstermoose67 @nonegenderleftpain @kueble @love-more-today-than-yesterday @kozkaboi @wherethewordsare @jaskiersvalley @skai6 @damatris
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Halloween Special
Pairing: Dean x Reader 
Summary: It’s hard to believe the man you love can love you back when he has an abundance of options. Trust getting trapped in a maze together to make you confess.
Word count: 7143
Warnings: swearing, angst, fluff, mutual pinning, slow burn?
A/N:  Have an excellent Halloween and stay safe out there. I now have a masterlist so be sure to check it out. As always read it, enjoy it and I’ll see you on the other side! Unbeta’d all mistakes are mine.
Masterlist
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Y/N had been with the Winchesters long enough to know the rules around holidays. Dean more than welcomed the yearly events and would always find ways to mention them and celebrate them in any manner possible. Sam on the other hand, though admittedly happy to see his brother in such an upbeat mood, hated holidays. Whether they be Christmas or Halloween, New Year, or Easter, Sam was last to participate in the celebration. His reason being he didn’t want to look forwards to something that may not happen, an event that is to be celebrated with friends and family while their friends and family had all passed away. A reasonable excuse though not enough for Dean to give him a break.
All the while, Y/N would get lost in Dean's energetic holiday personality, enjoying the time of year herself as much as possible. In the end, what would occur more often than not on holidays was a drink at a bar decorated appropriately for the time of year. This year was no different as of yet. The closer Halloween came to be, the more excited Dean had become and the more closed off and short-tempered — at least around the subject — Sam had gotten.
The trio had finished off a hunt, a day before Halloween, and made their way to a bar to top off the night. The drive was only five or six minutes, highway ad signs blemishing the view of the otherwise empty countryside, a gentle golden light feathering through the seemingly glowing grass as the sun made its way to wake people up on the other side of the planet. Dean watches her in the rear-view mirror. Y/N admires her surrounding for the back of Baby, only breaking eye contact with the word when she felt the car sway to the right as Dean pulled over into a parking lot. The three of them made their way inside, Sam on his phone looking into the local news, Dean gleaming at the sight of decorations, nudging Y/N to look at things he’d spotted.
Waitresses dressed in skimpy costumes, fake cobwebs on the walls and ceiling littered with plastic spiders and leaves, the specials for the week were found on the chalkboard at the entrance and again behind the bar, drawings of skeleton hands pointing to individual drinks. The bar was as crowded as to be expected considering it was a Friday night and only a day away from Halloween. Groups of girls in their sexy nurse and sexy pirate costumes huddled together eyeing the brothers, whispering and giggling. Sam ignored his surroundings making his way to the bar and ordering a beer while Dean wore a grin as he looked around at the people and decorations. Y/N stood next to him, hands in her jacket pockets, taking in the atmosphere for herself, appreciating the light mood that came with good company. Dean lifted his arm, draping it over her shoulder and pulling her against his side. The girls that had been attentively watching the eldest Winchester rolled their eyes and turned back toward the entrance in hopes of spotting the next charming guest the bar would welcome that night. Y/N looked up to the ridiculous grin the hunter wore as he took in his surroundings, shaking her head with a light chuckle.
“You’re such a goon. Come on.” She moved one hand from her jacket pockets to his back giving him a gentle pat before leading him to the bar. Dean was in no way going to let his brother's bad mood dampen his own, instead, trying to cheer him up. They sat on the tall stool, beers in hand as Dean nodded to Sam with his drink then back towards the girls who had reverted their gaze back towards the Winchesters.
“Sam, look up from your phone man, look at all these hot chicks trying to get your attention. You should go talk to ‘em. They’ve had their eyes on you since you walked in here and you can’t even make eye contact. Shameful.” He teased as he sipped his beer.
“If they’re so hot then why don’t you go talk to them.” Sam's voice was monotone his eyes focus on the glowing device in his hand.
“Nah, see I’m already in a good mood. I got everything I need, my beer, a hunt gone well, and my very favourite girl by my side the day before Halloween.” He slid his arm over Y/Ns shoulders again shaking her a little, reinforcing his words. “See you, my Sammy, have that phone. Come on man it’s not even Halloween yet and you’re already bumming me out. I mean look at Y/N! You’re killing the vibe dude.”
“Whatever Dean. If you want to party it up for Halloween be my guest, doesn’t mean I have to join in. I’m comfortable living vicariously.” With a huff, Dean caved not wanting to waste his night on someone else’s bad mood.
“Whatever dude.” Dean swallowed the rest of his beer, quickly ordering a new one before turning to Y/N.
“You like Halloween, right?”
“Well, I like the candy involved that's for sure. Yeah, I like Halloween, the haunted houses, costumes, trying to scare your friends. Oh, and also the candy involved.” Earning a chucked from both the brothers.
“Look I don’t wanna, you know, kill the vibe, so why don’t you guys just do your thing and I’ll see if I can find us a new case okay?”
“Okay but Sammy,” Dean looked his brother in the eyes with a serious look on his face pointing his beer at him. “Don’t leave those girls hanging.”
“Yeah. Right.” Sam huffed out a chuckle before moving to an undisturbed booth leaving Y/N and Dean at the bar as the two of them leaned back against it in on their seats.
“What about you? You gonna leave those girls hanging?”
“They were eyeing Sammy, not me.”
“Pretty sure they were interested in both of you ‘till you went and put your arm on my shoulder.” She sipped at her beer watching the crowd.
“Yeah well, I guess I ruined my shot then didn’t I.” He smiled over to her, head tilted, and eyes brows raised.
“Unless you didn’t.” She nodded towards the angel walking over to them, a white mini skirt and white top showing unnecessary cleavage with wings and a halo. Her make-up was over the top as were her six-inch white heals and equally white salon nails. She stood in front of Dean closer then welcomed and introduced herself.
“Hi, I’m Candy.” Dean smirked shaking her hand.
“Hi there, I’m Dean, this is Y/N.” Candy looked over to her with the fakest of smiles on her face as Y/N did her very best to restrain from laughing. Candy stood there doing her utmost hardest to flirt with Dean who was giving her nothing to go on, finding every possible way to mention Y/N in the conversation. Soon enough Candy left her number with Dean and walked away.
“Dude you suck! What was that! You know better than to mention your girlfriend when trying to get laid. You know what I mean, a friend who’s a girl, not the point! You’re Dean Winchester! And that,” She gestured at him “sucked.” She sipped her drink.
“I already told you Y/N, I got everything I need. Right here.” He held up his beer and nudged into her. “Plus, you’re the one who likes candy.”
Before long the triad had made their way back to the motel room. Entering the room Dean booked it to the bathroom calling dibs on the first shower. Sam dramatically threw his hands in the air sighing. Y/N, however, had plans that required Dean out of the room.
“Hey, Sammy.” She whispered keeping an eye on the bathroom door, waiting for the shower to start.
“Yeah what’s up.”
“You wanna know what Halloween is all about?”
“What are you gonna do?” He had an inquisitive look in his eye and a cheeky smirk on his lips. Y/N opened her backpack to show Sam the content.
“I got it at that corner store a coupla days ago… I was thinking his bed. It looks real huh?”
“That— that is awesome. That is gonna scare the shit outta him!”
Dean exited the shower tying his towel around his waist and rubbing away the fog that interfered with his view. He watched his reflection thinking over his plan in his head. Dean was in love with his best friend though she didn’t know and had been planning on telling her for weeks. He’d been dropping hint, flirting with her, touching her arm or hand and she seemed to be oblivious.
“Have I been too subtle? Dude, you really do suck. This shouldn’t be this hard, hell it shouldn’t be hard at all. It’s Y/N! All you have to do is say hey by the way I’m in love with you and I’d really like to be with you are you interested? Shit! That was lame. Come on Dean, come on! Tell her, just tell her man. Shit! Why couldn’t I be into a desperate chic who read into everything.” He ran his hand through his hair and down his face. “’ Cause then she wouldn’t be Y/N. Man up man. You can do this.” He pointed at himself in the mirror. He threw on his black t-shirt and a pair of boxers walking out of the bathroom to see Y/N and Sam sitting next to each other on her bed. The smirk on Y/N's face made him feel uneasy. Sam got up and walked over to the couch to rummage around in his bag in search of his own PJs.
“You guy keeping secrets?” Dean joked as he moved over to his bed. Placing his phone on the nightstand he turned on the lamp and looked up to the two he had addressed.
“So many secrets Dean.” Y/N smiled at him. “I’m kidding, we were just talking about Halloween and what it was about.” She got up from her bed and grabbed her bag, going to work on finding her PJs.
“Oh yeah? And what’s that.” The jealousy that had been ignited when he saw the two sitting together hadn’t yet been put out though he was trying his hardest. There was no competition in his mind, his brother was taller, more fit, healthier eating habits, smarter, and had better control of his temper. If there was even the possibility that Y/N liked Sam, he didn’t stand a chance. Had it been a one-night stand Dean could have charmed his way into bed with any women before his brother had a shot at saying hello, but with Y/N he wasn’t looking for a one-night stand. She deserved better than that anyway and even if he wasn’t in love with her, he wouldn’t have tried anything simply out of respect for her.
She turned around looking Dean in the eyes as he reached for his blankets. Her smile grew as the blankets were pulled back and he got in. A look of confusion began to form as Dean reached his hand down along his leg finally touching the smooth, dry pole-like figure next to him. He lifted the blanket spotting what he had been touching and flung the blankets back as he pushed off the bed landing on the ground and scurrying away all the while screaming as though he had yellow fever.
“Well, it’s about fear of course.” Y/N laughed.
“That better not be real.” Dean took a minute to catch his breath looking at Sam.
“Hey, don’t blame me, this was all Y/N.” Dean then looked to Y/N who was bent over laughing.
“It’s good, right? Looks real too! You should have seen yourself; you actually fell off the bed! That was better than I had hoped for.”
“Ha ha, you better watched your back Y/N.”
“You? Scare me? You can try.” Y/N strutted her way over to the bathroom, towel flung over her shoulder as she smirked cockily over. Dean turned to his brother once more.
“Sam, can you move the snake?”
Locking the door Y/N began to strip of her clothes turning on the water, allowing it to gain temperature.
The room smelled of Dean. Y/N inhaled deeply without thinking, taking in the smell, allowing it to lull her into a comfortable calmness, her eyes fluttering shut, her eyelashes teasing and tickling at the soft skin of her cheeks. It was an instinctual thing she would do when around the smell. She would try to absorb it, though before long she would snap out of the smell induced trance and revert back to what she was doing. Right now, however, there was no one to judge her, and she took a moment longer.
Once fully undressed, Y/N stepped under the shower head permitting the water to run across her shoulders and down her spine. Tilting her head back she let the heat of the water rush through her hair adding weight to it. Her eyes were closed, beads of water collecting on her eyelashes, her lips, her nose, as she dragged her hands along her silky hair ringing it out causing a heavy sound as the water crashed onto the floor of the tub. Y/N open her eyes meeting Dean's ocean green ones as he stood in front of her. Equally naked, he stepped forward bringing his hand up to gracefully brush at her cheek. Y/Ns eyes flutter shut once more as she imagined the way Dean hands would feel on her body, moving her own along the curves of her being as she soaped up, the suds allowing for a smooth gliding motion. His or rather her hands gently trailed her skin leaving her flinching as they tickled her sides. They grew closer to their destination, the thought of Dean encouraging her.
“Hey, are you about done in there?!”
She was going to kill Sam.
“Just about!” She yelled back, rinsing away the soap. Turning off the water, she stepped out of the tub moving to the mirror before brushing her teeth.
“Don’t even think about it.” She told herself in the mirror — for the hundredth time.
She got dressed and opened the door.
“All yours” Nodding to Sam who got up from the end of the bed, towel, and PJs in hand.
“About time, what were you doing in there? Fantasizing?”
“Yeah, totally and the kicker is you don’t get to know the juicy details.” Regardless of the factualness of her statement, it was underlined with a sarcastic tone. Sam scoffed and moved to the bathroom locking the door behind him, leaving herself and Dean alone.
Y/N had always been good at hiding her crushes ever since she was a kid. She would pretend to be annoyed with things they did or simply be neutral around them. With Dean, it had always been harder, with the fact that she spent so much time around him and would sometimes lose herself in his vicinity it had proven to be difficult. So, she had begun pushing him in the opposite directing. Because of their lifestyle, there was never a girlfriend to make him off-limits or a boyfriend to distract her. In fact, their lifestyle supported even a 'friends with benefits' arrangement between the two of them. Y/N had quickly rejected that idea knowing full well that she would fall for him given that opportunity. And so, as a way to avoid any suggested feelings she made him look the other way. Like tonight at the bar with Candy. Y/N wanted Dean to be into Candy so that she wouldn’t be into him. She did her best not to like him or find his smile charming or his smell intoxicating or his laugh all-consuming but alas. She was dealing.
Y/N moved to her bed throwing the sheets back and climbing in right after removing the fake spiders underneath.
“Really Dean? That was a poor excuse for an attempt. I don’t scare that easy.” “Well, why don’t you save us both some time and tell me what you are afraid of? What's your biggest fear Y/N?”
“Actually… I don’t know. And even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you.”
“Why not?”
“Do you really have to ask?” Both sat in their respective bed leaning against the headboards.
“No, I guess not. But it’d be more fun that way.”
“Well you’re shit out luck ‘cause I don’t even know what my biggest fear is to being with.” She shrugged, as she lied through her teeth. Hunkering down in her blankets she reached over and turned out the light, leaving Dean's lamp as the only source of light. The door to the bathroom swung open as Sam emerged with his soggy hair.
“You guys ready for bed?”
“We were just waiting for you, Sammy.” His brother responded as he reached overturning out his own lamp.
The room was dark suddenly, save for the alarm clock glaring red between Y/N and Dean's respective beds. Y/N lay on her back watching the shadows on the ceiling as cars passed by outside, her mind wandering for miles.
Y/N looks to the clock and smiles after noticing the hour. She got up and moves to Dean's bed crawling on the sheets and sitting with her legs crossed, resting a hand on his shoulder as he lay on his stomach.
“Dean… are you awake?”
“I am now…” He said groggily without opening his eyes, doing his best to cling to what sleep was left.
“Happy Halloween.” He could hear the smile on her face, fell the heat of her hand still resting on his shoulder. And though he was put off by the toy snake in his bed and what he saw when he exited the shower earlier that night the jealousy had been eased away.
“What?” He opened his eyes now seeing the smile she held. She was pointing at the clock that read 12:01.
“You woke me up for that?” He said closing his eyes once more as he flipped onto his back taking Y/Ns hand in his without thinking.
“Of course, I did” He sighed and smiled, relieving Y/N of the regret she was feeling for waking him. There was a pause while Dean took in the situation giggling to himself slightly as Y/N watched him, resisting the urge to touch him, his hand in her practically cheering her on to do so.
“Promise me you’ll do that every holiday from now on.” He chuckled; his voice groggy as he squeezed her hand.
“Promise. Sorry for waking you by the way. You can go back to sleep now.” She began moving off the bed, but Dean didn’t release her hand. She rubbed her thumb over his knuckles, drawing his attention back to contact he had initiated. Dean brought her hand up to his lips leaving a chaste kiss before letting go.
“Good night Dean.”
“Night sweetheart.”
~~~
The next morning Y/N found herself watching the fields pass her by once again as she sat, half asleep, in the back seat of the impala, while Dean passed her a coffee from the gas station they had just left. She sat up cupping the coffee in both hands before chugging half of its content, quickly suffering the consequences as she panted like a dog in hope of reliving the burning on her tongue and though it did the trick in waking her up, it wasn’t as pleasant as one may have hoped. The bunker was a good 7 more hours away at the rate they were going which is why they had slept in the motel before heading home. In each town they drove though, Halloween decorations cover houses from head to toe, kids dressed in movie characters and monsters, signs prompted readers to embark on a haunted house experience and hay bale mazes. The last one caught Y/Ns attention.
“Guys! Hay bale maze 3 miles!”
“No.”
“Sam that's not fair! We’ve been cooped up in this car for hours. Plus, hay bale is hardly a Halloween thing it’s just an autumn thing.” She gave Sam a look that said, ‘prove me wrong’. He sighed and looked at his brother who was now wearing a smirk, looking forward.
“Guys… Come on. Come on!”
“Okay, okay gosh Dean you heard the woman, hay bale maze.”
“Awesome.”
“Just drop me off a motel first. You guys can go be children while I sleep.”
“Sammy!”
“Nuh-uh.” As per Sam's request, he was dropped off at a motel three miles later. Dean pulled into a lot where cars were scattered around, families and couples huddled together taking pictures with the carved pumpkin and fall decorations. Y/N and Dean stumbled out, stretching their limbs high and wide as they turned towards the maze.
“A beer says you’ll get lost.”
“Well if I get lost, then it’s 'cause you’re lost. I ain’t leaving your side sweetheart.”
“Yeah, that is until you find some fine-looking group of girls to cling onto. You know, be their knight in shining armour and all. Help them get out of the scary maze.”
“And leave you all alone to fend for yourself? Never. I gotta protect my girl! Not gonna let a group of sillies distract me... I’ll take that bet though.”
They made their way towards the maze entrance stopping to read the rule sign that outlined the following: maze hours from 9 am to 9 pm, no running, no smoking, no food or drinks, and no tipping over the hay bales.
“That last one's for you Dean. They musta known you were coming.”
“I would never!”
On the left of the entrance stood a box that read ‘maze fees by donation. All proceeds go to the local animal shelter. Thank you and enjoy!’ Dean pulled out a twenty-dollar bill and slid it in the slot without a second thought looking over to Y/N whose eyebrows were raised in shock.
“What?”
“Twenty whole dollars really? You realize it’s by donation you could have gotten away with a buck or two, right?”
“It’s for a good cause.” He shrugged.
“You don’t even like animals.”
“Well maybe not... but you do and that right there is enough reason for me. Can we go now and quit worrying about how much I put in the damn box.” Dean raised his hand, palm to the ground offering it to Y/N which she reluctantly took. She didn’t expect Dean to keep hold of it as they walked through the winding golden walls and not only did, he not let go; he slowly threaded his fingers in hers almost as though he were afraid that if he went to fast, she would drop his hand and head for the hills, which, to be completely honest, she had considered. As much as she wanted to relish in the heat radiating off his arm against hers or the pressure between her fingers, she couldn’t stop the thought rushing through her head telling her to let go. That the longer she held onto him the more painful it would be when he inevitably let go, realizes her feeling for him, and pushing her away. And so, she did. Pulling her hand back she tucked it safely away in her pocket out of reach. Dean put his hand in his jean pocket glancing over at Y/N with a hesitant smile. They walked in silence, only the sound of grass rustling under their shoes and children’s voices as they laughed and screamed with joy filling the void. Y/N didn’t know what to say and so she didn’t say anything. Meanwhile, Dean's mind was spinning with things to say but couldn’t. The silence was broken when they came to a dead end.
“Guess you owe me that beer.”
“Y/N listen— “ He faced her stepping closer as he reached for her hand from her pockets. Y/N blinked in confusion as her hand where pulled from the heat-laced pockets they had once sought shelter in.
“Dean, stop. Don’t do this, you know you’ll regret it.”
“But I need to tell you this. Please.”
“Unless you about to tell me we’re seriously lost, don’t say anything.”
“Y/N—“
“Dean, stop!” She yanked her hand back along with a step backward. “What you’re about to say— you don’t mean it. So please just... don’t.”
She walked away from the dead end. Dean stood still for a minute trying to wrap his head around her words.
“‘Don’t mean it’?” He whispers to himself.
“You coming?”
“Yeah.” He crocked walking over to her without making eye contact, his hand I’m his jean pockets. He looked beat, worn, tired, and heartbroken.
“You okay?” She asked, a stupid question really considering her previous words.
“I’m fine.” And so, the silence resumed, though this time it was Y/Ns mind spinning with unspoken thought and Deans that was solely focused on one.
The sun had begun setting long ago as they kept up their pace in the labyrinth. Y/N looked at her phone, the screen illuminating her face as she read the time; 8:37.
“We should find the way-out Dean; they close the maze at 9. We have twenty minutes.”
“Yeah.” He walked past her. They weren’t able to find the exit, ignoring the call over the intercom for stragglers. Both refused to call out expecting the other to do so. Little did they know the exit wasn’t just blocked off by a gate they could hop, rather replace with hay bales creating a seemingly solid wall. They wouldn’t find the exit till the morning.
“I’m taking a break.” Y/N sat down on the ground leaning gently against the yellow straw bricks. Dean stood and waited, looking at his boots.
“Dean—“
“What. You gonna ask if I’m okay! I’m fine. Just don’t bother.”
“I didn’t mean to — I don’t know — hurt your feelings? In fact, that’s the last thing I wanted.”
“Well good ‘cause you didn’t. It’s not like I have feelings, anyway right. I mean that’s what you were implying when you said I didn’t mean it.” Dean was calm with his argument, never looking away from his boots.
“Of course, that’s not what I meant Dean. I know you have feelings. Can we just forget about it? Dean just sit, take a break.” He sat next to her leaving inches between them. Regardless of what she had been saying to him he still craved her proximity. He couldn’t help but sit close to her even after being hurt. Despite the fact that she had been the one to hurt him she was still the only one who could make him feel better, and that made it hurt all the more. They sat in their familiar silence for a dozen minutes before Y/N suggested they play a game to pass the time, giving up completely on finding the exit.
“You wanna play a game?” Dean simply looked at her not saying a word, a blank expression on his face.
“Or not— we don’t have to.”
“Truth or dare.” Y/N looked at him surprised to see him involving himself in the conversation.
“Truth.”
“What’s your favourite memory?”
“That’s an odd question, but I’ll answer nevertheless... you remember that time we ended up in a gravel pit, after our first hunt together? Werewolf. Pack of three. There was no one around. No city lights. I had never seen the sky that sparkled. And then you told me to cover my eyes. When I opened them, the stars were even brighter than before, and there were so many. I can still see them when I close my eyes now. All those little holes in our sky. Do you remember that night Dean?”
Of course, he remembered that night. Their first hunt. He had fallen for her quickly after watching her take on two of the werewolves herself while he was tied to a chair.
“Yeah. I remember... as a matter of fact I think that’d be mine too.” There lay an essence of a smile on his face as Dean reminisced.
“My turn then. Truth or dare.”
“Truth.” Y/N didn’t have to think about her question for she had wondered it for the longest time.
“Who, and be honest here because this is important, is your favourite Scooby doo character?” As Y/N had hoped and planned, Dean burst out laughing a full belly laugh. His head tilted back resting again the wall of hay while his hand made its way to his stomach. His eyes squinted shut showing laughter lines and his chest rumbled while his shoulder bounced which every laugh. Dean lifted his hand to rub at his eyes that had begun tearing up from laughter.
“Well,” he leaned in and with a hushed voice as though divulging a secret, told her. “Since you asked for the honest truth, I’ll tell you. See I would have said Daph for all the reasons you’d suspect, all the obvious reasons. But in reality, it’s Shaggy.” He’d stopped whispering but kept a good mood. “I mean— he’s got to eat all he wants he’s got a best friend though it is a dog but I mean Scoobs can talk! How cool is that? Plus, even though he doesn’t really get much of the credit, he’s kind of the hero. Without him and Scoobs, they would never get the bad guy. Granted they catch them almost by accident but still.” She had managed to lighten the mood thankfully as they continued with their little game. Both avoided any classic truth or dare questions for obvious reasons.
“Okay, my turn.” Dean's question was one had already asked however he didn’t believe her answer. “Truth or dare.”
“Truth.”
“Good. What’s your biggest fear?”
“Dean I already told you I don’t know.” Dean turned to her watching as she looked at the straw she’s been fiddling with.
“The truth, Y/N.”
“Dare.”
“No way! Too late you gotta!”
“Dean...”
“Oh, come on. I won’t even laugh, I promise, even if it’s something like butterflies.” She looked at him, eyebrows arched. “Wait is it butterflies?”
“No! Who’s afraid of butterflies?”
“I don’t know I just figured; you know since you’re so opposed to telling me it must be something silly like that.”
“No, it’s not.”
“Then tell me. I won’t judge, in fact, I’ll trade you for mine.” There was a very long pause as Y/n looked in Dean's stunningly green eyes. She could see the honesty that lay beneath but could also spot the hurt from earlier and it killed her.
“My—“ she choked on her words and sniffled as she cleared her throat looking away from him. Her voice was shaky as she continued. “My biggest fear, Dean, is losing you.” It was Dean's turn to sit in contemplation. He watched her as she breathed shallow breaths. Lifting her head and closing her eyes she broke the silence.
“My turn then, truth or da—“
“No, no wait— I don’t get you. You act like you tolerate me, always pushing me away and then you tell me that your biggest fear is losing me. That doesn’t make any sense Y/N!”
“That’s ironic coming from you. Dean, when people get close to you, lock them out. Why would I do that? Why get close, it’s counterproductive. Either I push and keep you close or get close and get punched away. That’s how it is with you. Are you telling me that if I didn’t push you away, we would — what be the best of friend joint at the hip having sleepover parties and telling each other our celebrity crushes? I don’t think so. If I tried to get close, I would lose you and as previously mentioned that’s the last thing I want.”
“We would be more than best friends.”
“No, we wouldn’t Dean.”
“Why’s that. ‘Cause I ‘don’t mean it’, or ‘cause you don’t feel that way ‘cause I’m finally starting to get that.” Dean was on his feet a few steps away. Y/N still sat on the ground, a defeated look on her face.
“Of course, I feel that way Dean, of course, I do—“
“Then why set me up with ‘Candy’ or make sure I notice all the girls at the bar who were checking me out or suggest that I go find some chicks here huh, you’re always giving me other options, now that is counterproductive.”
“Because as I’ve said before Dean, I’d lose you. You don’t feel the same so you would push me away.”
“Who the hell said I don’t feel that way?”
“No one had to say it, Dean. I already know.”
“Well, you’re wrong. I thought I made it pretty obvious what with not being interested in the girls you point me towards, the hand holding, I’ve flirted with you.”
“Dean, you’re a notorious flirt how was I to know you’re being serious all those times?” Y/N stood up finding her footing a couple of strides in front of Dean.
“Well I wasn’t flirting with anyone now else, was I?”
“You’ve got a point there... that’s not the point. Dean, I’m not the kinda girl people date, I’m independent, solitary, don’t you think we're just really good friends and you don’t actually like me in that way we just spend a lot of time together, we get along, we’re friends.” Dean shook his head looking as though he were holding back tears.
“There is no way that the way I feel isn’t love Y/N. It’s not even that I like you. I’m in love with you and I can’t change that. And no, it’s not just that we get along, the way I feel, Y/N, is more than friendship, and trust me I know the difference. Why is it so hard for you to believe?” While there were psychological reasons for Y/N not to believe Dean's confession she didn’t have an answer. She shrugged instead, an apologetic smile on her face. Y/N sat back in her spot tugging her jacket around her body as a shiver ran through her being.
“You gonna let me give you my jacket?”
“No.” She looked up at him with a smirk acknowledging her stubbornness. Dean scoffed as he sat next to her once more this time leaving no room between them. He could feel her shaking gently next to him.
“Y/N please just take the jacket I’ve got like three other layers. I’m not cold in the slightest.”
“You’ll need it later. We’re just sitting you’ll get cold.”
“Son of a—.” He muttered as he leaned forward stripping off his jacket and putting in her lap.
“If you don’t want to put it on don’t put it on but I’m not wearing it. I’m too warm.” He looked at her cocking his eyebrows. Y/N rolled her eyes and slapped the jacket dramatically as she pulled it off her lap and around her shoulders. Dean did his best to hide his victorious smile as he settled back, crossing his arms over his chest. The jacket was already warm, the heat seeping in past her own layers and onto her skin, sinking into her muscles. The familiar and comforting smell of Dean wafted off the coat and enveloped her senses taking her back to her fantasies, a comfortable place, a happy place. She let herself relish in her imagination. The thought of Dean wanting her the same way she wanted him, loving her the same she loved him. Her eyes shot open remembering Dean's words. It was only moments ago he said he loves her. She hated herself for not being able to believe him.
“Dean I— Can I ask you why?”
“I honestly can’t answer that. I don’t know why I just know that I do. It wasn’t a development that happened over time. Well I mean I’m sure there were things you’d do that would spark that feeling in my chest but — It — It didn’t take time for me to fall in love with you. I just looked at you one day and thought ‘Hey, there you are, God, I’ve missed you.’’ And I’ve been longing for you for so long, always too afraid to make a move. Guess my fears were right hey.” He chuckled humourlessly. Y/N leaned into him resting her head on his shoulder in hopes of comforting him without thinking about what her actions might do. Dean could damn near hear his heart shatter as he swallowed the lump in his throat. She soon realized her mistake and sat up with wide eyes and nervous breathing.
“Sorry.”
“It’s okay.” She could hear the melancholy in his voice making her regret her actions. “You realize we’re probably the only two people who would admit to liking each other and do nothing about it. Hell, I admitted to loving you.”
“Dean— I’ve never been loved like that. People have hurt me time and time again and I just no longer believe in love. Let me rephrase that because I do believe in love, I’ve loved, I love you, I just don’t believe that people can love me. It’s hypocritical of me I know but that’s just how it is.”
“You love me too?” Y/N chuckled slightly pulling the jacket closer to herself, not in search of warmth, but rather in an effort to be closer to Dean.
“Yeah. I love you.” The smile rested as she heard Dean's breathing change from slow to excited.
“Best friend to best friend?” Y/N nodded curiously to be let in on the onsite Dean would promptly share. “You’re being ridiculous. Y/N just give me a chance. Please. Let me prove to you that I love you. Let me show you that you can be loved, hell that you are loved! Let me give you everything I have to offer and more Y/N and in return all I want is you. Please.” He looked at her with pleading eyes.
“Dean I— I don’t even know how.”
“It’s easy. You can start by letting me hold your hand, and give you my jacket, and not trying to set me up with other chicks.” He suddenly had hope, as misguided as it could have been. They held each other’s gaze while Dean tried his best to decipher what she was thinking if she’d give him the one and only chance he needed. Without a word Y/N looked away leaning back against the wall causing Dean's heart to seize in his chest but was soon put at ease when Y/Ns hand found his. He groaned a sigh of relief, squeezing her hand as tightly as he could without hurting her.
The sun had risen hours ago as the two of them sat in their spot. A young boy and girl turned the corner and found them on the ground, stopping in their tracks. The kids slowly backed away as Y/N and Dean noticed them.
“Guess it’s past 9. We can go find that exit now.” Dean looked to Y/N, who had over time leaned harder against him, and she nodded in agreement. Both stood up, stiff from the cool night air and lack of movement and stretched.  Dean took Y/Ns hand in his and could feel the resistance from her though it didn’t last long as she tightened her hold. Turning the corner, they spotted the exit. Both laughed at the close proximity to where they spent the night. They walked out of the maze and towards Baby, sliding into their respective seats. Y/N, out of habit stayed to her side, leaning against the door as Dean started the engine. Dean did his best not to read into her actions, understanding that she would take time to allow herself to act as though she were indeed in a relationship. Relationship. Dean suddenly felt unsure of the situation. Could he call himself her boyfriend? Did she want to be with him? Were they in a relationship or was she testing the waters before jumping in?
He focused on the road, white-knuckling the steering wheel. Y/N soon realized as she looked out the window that she was once again fantasizing about the man that sat next to her, only this time she didn’t have to imagine sliding over and resting her head on his shoulder as he drove, she could do it in reality. Y/N looked over to the driver with a smile, admiring the two-day-old scruff on his face, the freckles standing out against the rest of his skin. From the angle, she was at the light seemed to feed right through his iris making them crystal clear in the most magnificent shade of green as his eyelashes would momentarily grace his cheek when he blinked. Without warning, Y/N slid across the bench seat next to her hunter and just as she’s done thousands of times in her head, rested it on his shoulder. She felt him move under her as he pulled his arm and placed it around her pulling her as close as possible. Arriving at the motel they had once dropped off the younger Winchester, Y/N looked up at Dean as he spoke.
“I— I have a question.” She nodded but didn’t say a thing. “Are— I mean is— son of a bitch, are we together? Is this a— a thing or— or—“ His stuttering was cut short with Y/Ns answer, her lips pressed softly on his. Dean's eyes shut slowly tugging her in as he deepened the kiss. Pulling away Y/N looked him in the eyes.
“Whatever you want to call this, Dean is up to you, but I’m yours.” He smiled and nodded, pleased with her answer. Y/N knew Dean, she trusted him, and she wanted to give this a try. She knew that if it was going to work that she was going to trust him, and with great effort though little convincing, she did.
“And I’m yours.”
“That was quite the Halloween special.”
“That it was. The specialist of Halloweens.”  
“You know we never did get to scare Sam.”
“Clowns?”
“Clowns.”
She pecked him once more for the road and made their way inside with their arms wrapped around one another as they planned the scare.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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cosmiclatte28 · 4 years
Text
#3 It Was an Accident (Hendery x you)
Third day of Christmas
It Was an Accident (Hendery x you)
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I do not own the pictures, but I own the stories :) hope you enjoy this
Work is over and it’s finally almost the last day of going to the office. Your team has been working super hard this year to win several big projects and the company will be holding a big party to end the year also celebrate Christmas.
It was a usual party, but someone suggested that while in the Christmas vibes, we should play the secret santa. It was easy, within a week you have to give the person’s name you received a gift. You are basically their santa and you have to keep your identity secret. If they found out it’s you it’s basically no fun and who doesn’t like surprises right?
The names were distributed in pieces of papers and you randomly choose one. When you open up the paper you smirk knowing that this is someone easy. Well you’re glad you didn’t get your boss’ name because seriously it’ll be super hard to find a gift for your boss.
On the week of the event, you were quite busy with finishing up your works and also rushing from stores to buy your mother some Christmas tinsels. You actually forgot the whole Secret Santa thing if not for the box of chocolate peeping out of the box written under your name.
“Ooh shit-“you mumbled and look around, no one is in sight and there is another box filled with some wrapped present too.
You pick up the box of chocolate and keep it under your bag, great your secret Santa has made the move. You check your calendar and it’s just two more days to the deadline.
That afternoon after a long meeting with the manager and executive team, you walk around the mall to find a gift that looks nice but still in budget. The group decided on a budget and turns out within that range you can either go funny or really serious.
“Should I get them a mistletoe?” you laugh at your own question, “Nah they’re single.”
You move on to the other shops, thinking of buying them a soap or maybe a lotion? A gift card can be nice too, but boring.
In the end you enter one shop with a very good smell, and you know you’re getting them a candle.
The party was heart-warming and you’re glad you dress up nicely to the fancy restaurant.
You wait as your colleague promised to pick you up since your house is on his way to the restaurant.
“I’m here,” your colleage, Hendery calls you when you’re about to slack on the couch and munch on one of the chocolate you got from your Santa. You put the chocolate back and step out of your apartment.
“Hey!” you greet him once you step into his nice car. It smells good and he looks stunning with his suit and hair styled.
“You look beautiful,” he bashfully compliments you.
You glance and smile, “You too.” He makes sure your seatbelt is on and makes his way to the restaurant.
Hendery is a fun guy and he just always has his way of cracking jokes.
“I wonder why you didn’t be a comedian at first.” You tease him after calming down yourself from laughing too hard on his jokes.
Hendery glances at you and back to the road, “Well I wanted to be an actor not a comedian, but here I am working with you inside the office from nine to five. Attending meeting and listening to client’s complain about our new game.”
You’re working on an online game company and while Hendery works for the finance, you’re in the marketing team. It was a fun job, sometimes when the new game was developed you guys got to try the game first and provide feedbacks.
The ride to the restaurant comes to an end, Hendery tosses his car keys to the Valet man and like a gentleman, he offers you his arm and you gently take it.
“The dinner reservation for Marble Corp.” Hendery calmly answers the welcome lady, she ushers the two of you to a private area and there you see some of your friends already seated nicely.
“Hey (Y/n) and Hendery!!” a man with black and highlighted blonde hair waves to call the two of you. He is Ten, our company’s design artist. He is in charge of drawing the game’s characters and landscapes.
Hurriedly you sit beside Ten, he is your best (friend) colleague here after Hendery.
“Are you going anywhere Ten?” you ask, he usually travels on Winter breaks and he always brings you something as a souvenir.
He nods, “I’m going home, want to join? Thailand may be interesting for you.” He offers you a glance of the date he booked his flight.
You kindly reject his offer, “Oh thank you, but I had planned a trip too with Hendery and Yang Yang.” You sigh suddenly feeling like you made a wrong decision. Across you were Yang yang, the German boy who worked on storyline and Hendery both talking about their holiday plan.
Ten snorts at your answer, “I guess you can still change your flight to Thailand and be with me, where are you heading to?”
Your eyes lit up, “Going to Macau, Hendery promised he would bring us to his casino place and maybe… maybe if luck is in our side, we can win big.”
Ten nods his head, “Quite interesting, Macau can be a great place to rest. I just hope those two dorks won’t be giving you a hard time.”
You down the wine on your glass, “I hope so! I’ll fly to you if they hurt my head!”
Ten runs a hand lovingly on your hair, “Of course! Your Ten here will always welcome you with open hands.”
You don’t bother his action, Ten is already like your brother so you don’t mind his actions. If that was done by someone else, you’d already flung your hand on their face.
The head of the corporation comes in and after his short speech the dinner is started.
With stories exchanged between all of you and the wine accompanying the night, you’re glad you are not a light drinker. The night is getting older and after the desert and closing remarks, some of your colleagues left.
“(Y/n), want to go back already? I guess everyone is leaving after this.” Hendery who looks sober asks you. You just finished one and a half glass, because you had to make sure you got home safe.
You nod your head and bid farewell to Ten and your other friends. It’s a great night to end your work for this year.
“Hey are you by any chance still hungry?” Hendery asks after the two of you leave the place.
You grin, “You’re still hungry right?”
He nods, “The portion is too small! I say I need some milkshake or some sweet deserts now.” He licks his lips and you agree, “Okay we’ll stop for milkshakes!!”
Hendery changes lane and the two of you go to your favorite milkshake store. The place was a bit crowded, but you got a place for two.
“Let me order, you want Vanilla right?” he sorts of remember your favorite flavour.
You nod, quite surprised he remembers this.
Hendery returns with a plate of waffle and two glasses of vanilla.
“Thank you,” you reach out for your wallet, but he was faster. He holds your hand and shake his head.
“No need… Uhm how do I explain this,” he bites his lips and fiddles with his thumb.
You raise your eyebrow, and he finally starts explaining things.
“Look (y/n), I was your secret Santa, but I accidentally gave you a box of out of date chocolates.” He pulls his textbook smiley face and your jaw drops, gosh lucky you haven’t eaten any of it.
“So as an apology, now I am buying you drink and waffle.” He giggles and when you laugh out loud, Hendery feels like the biggest rock in his life is destroyed.
“Yow what you bought a box of outdated chocolates? Poor you! How can you?” you wonder as you sip into your drink.
Hendery shyly rubs his neck, “I read the date wrong. I messed the date and month…”
You roll your eyes, “Not surprised! As expected, our dear Hendery! Once again making me laugh so hard tonight.”
He nervously looks at your happy face, it’s the same person who always makes his day brighter. He feels like he can be himself and still get a smile on your face. He’s a sucker for you, yet he cannot bring himself to actually tell you how interesting you are and how pretty you look everyday when he saw you from the table across yours. Hendery likes to see how you focus on your screen and pout when the computer lacks, or the internet is acting up. He loves the way your laugh tingles his ear when he successfully cracks another joke. All in all, he loves you, because you never hates his dorky side of him and he likes you because you are super unique and fits into his puzzle piece.
“I am surprised my secret Santa got me a perfect gift right now,” he suddenly speaks up and you turn nervous.
“Huh? What did you get?” you look curiously as he takes something out of his pocket.
“I got a nice aromatherapy candle and this,” he brings out a small mistletoe and hangs it above the two of you.
You blush and gasp, everyone knows when two people are under a mistletoe, they have to kiss. So are you going to kiss him or will he kiss you? How awkward will it be if you just sit there dumbly? Will Hendery hates you?? Oh but he looks so charming and admit it you’ve always love his lips.
“A mistletoe?” you stutter. He nods his head, “Perfect for this moment, right?”
You close your eyes as he inches forward to seal your lips with his and you’re glad you’re sitting down now as you can feel your legs shaking.
He pulls back and some people around your table are shooting the two of you a thumbs up or just a secret smile.
You hide your red cheeks with your hands and Hendery sits back on his chair.
“So, want to admit whose name did you get?” he smirks.
You bite your lips, “You. I got your name, and yeah both of them are from me… Do you know that?”
He shakes his head, “I wasn’t sure at first, but I sort of worked out the others’ so I am left with your name or Yang yang’s and I know Yang yang would never buy me a candle. I am actually surprised with the mistletoe.”
You shrug your shoulder, “I don’t know what was in my head when I drop an additional mistletoe there, I just feel like you deserve to kiss someone this Christmas.”
He ruffles your hair and gives you the sweetest smile in the world, “And I am glad I got to kiss the one I like this Christmas.”
see you tomorrow!!
Christmas masterlist
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oneweekoneband · 4 years
Video
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I’m slightly nauseous already with knowing I’m going to say this, but what does “self-awareness”  even mean? In modern parlance, as a descriptive phrase, as a comment on art? I’m asking in earnest, like, I’ve been Googling lately, which for me is basically on par with doctoral study in terms of academic rigor. The self is king, anyway, tyrant, so where is the line of distinction between material that intentionally is nodding at some truth about the artist’s life and what’s just, like, all the rest of the regular navel-gazing bullshit. I mean, I’m all self, I am guilty here. I can’t get it out of my poems or even make it more quiet. This is the tenth time I’ve invoked “I” in the space of six sentences. Processing art has always necessitated a certain amount of grappling with the creator, but the busywork of it lately grows more and more tedious. Joy drains out of my body parsing marks left behind not just in stylistic tendencies and themes, but in literal, intentional tags like graffiti on a water tower. This feels an age old and moth-holed complaint, dull, and I am no historian, or really a serious thinker of any kind. I’ve now complained at some length about self-referential art, but didn’t I love how Martin Scorsese nodded to the famous Goodfellas Copacabana tracking shot with the opening frames of last year’s The Irishman? Didn’t I find that terribly fun and sort of sweet? So there’s distinctions. I’m only saying I don’t know with certainty what they even are. I’m unreliable, and someone smarter than me has likely already solved my quandary about why self-knowledge often transforms into overly precious self-reflexivity in such a way that the knowledge is diminished and obscured, leaving only cutesy Easter eggs behind. Postmodernism has birthed a moralizing culture where art exists to be termed either “self-aware Good” or “self-aware Bad”.  Self-referentiality in media is so commonplace, so much the standard, that what was once credited as metatextual inventiveness often feels lazy now. In 1996, Scream was revitalizing a genre. Today, two thirds of all horror movies spend half their running time making sure that you know that they know they’re a horror movie, which is fine, I guess, except sometimes you just wanna watch someone get butchered with an axe in peace. 
This is all to say that in 2020 Taylor Swift looked long and hard upon her image in the reflecting pool of her heart and has written yet another song about Gone Girl.
“mirrorball” is a very good piece of Gone Girl —feels insane to tell anyone reading a post on a blog what Gone Girl is but, you know, the extremely popular 2012 novel about a woman who pretends to have been murdered and frames her husband for it, and subsequently the 2014 film adaption where you kinda see Ben Affleck’s dick for a second—fanfiction. It would be a fine song, a good song, really, even if it weren’t that, if it were just something normal and not unhinged written by a chill person who behaves in a regular way, but we need to acknowledge the facts for what they are. When Taylor Swift watched Rosamund Pike toss her freshly self-bobbed hair out of her face and hiss, “You think you’d be happy with some nice Midwestern girl? No way, baby. I’m it!” her brain lit up like a Christmas tree, and she’s never been the same. If you Google “taylor swift gone girl” there waiting for you will be a medium sized lake’s worth of articles speculating about how Gone Girl influenced and is referenced in past Swift singles “Blank Space” and “Look What You Made Me Do”. This is not new behavior, and if anything it’s getting a bit troubling to think that it’s been this long since Taylor’s read another book. Still, while the prior offerings were a fair attempt at this particular feat of depravity, “mirrorball” has brought Taylor’s Amy Elliott Dunne deification to stunning new heights. And most importantly, Taylor has done a service to every person alive with more than six brain cells and a Internet connection by putting an end to the “Cool Girl” discourse once and for all. By the power invested in “mirrorball”, it is hereby decreed that the Cool Girl speech from Gone Girl is neither feminist or antifeminist, not ironic nor aspirational. No. It’s something much better than all that. It’s a threat. I ! Can ! Change ! Everything ! About ! Me ! To ! Fit ! In !
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Gone Girl (2012) by Gillian Flynn
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“mirrorball” (2020) by Taylor Swift
When the twinkly musical stylings of Jack Antonoff, a man I distinctly distrust, but for no one specific reason, whirl to life at the beginning of this song I feel instantly entranced, blurry-brained and pleasure-pickled like an infant beneath a light-up crib mobile or, I guess, myself in the old times, the outside times, three tequila sodas deep under the disco lights at The Short Stop. Under a mirrorball in my head. I know very little about music, as a craft, and I really don’t care to know more. I’m happy in a world of pure, dumb sensation. I’m not even sure what kind of instruments are making these jangly little sounds. I just like it. I am vibing. We may not ever be able to behave badly in a club again, but I can sway to my stupid Taylor Swift-and-the-brother-of-the-lady-who-makes-like-those-sweatshirts-with-little-sayings-or-like-vulvas-which-famous-white-women-wear-on-instagram-you-know-what-I-mean song, pressing up onto my tiptoes on the linoleum tile of our kitchen floor and can feel for a second or two something approaching bliss. “mirrorball” is a lush sound bath that I like a lot and then also it’s about being all things to all people, chameleoning at a second’s notice, doing Oscar worthy work on every Zoom call, performing the you who is good, performing the you who is funny, performing the you who draws a liter of your own blood and throws it around the kitchen then cleans it up badly all to get your husband sent to jail for sleeping with a college student... Too much talk about making and unmaking of the self is way too, like, 2012 Tumblr for me now, and I start hearing the word “praxis” ring threateningly in my head, but I’m not yet so evolved that I don’t feel a pull. Musings on the disorganized self—on how we are new all the time, and not just because of all the fresh skin coming up under the dead, personhood in the end so frighteningly flexible—are always going to compel me, I’m afraid, but that goes double for musings on the disorganized self which posit that Taylor Swift still thinks Amy Dunne made some points.
Because on “mirrorball” Taylor is for once not hamfistedly addressing some “hater”, in the quiet and the lack of embarrassing martyrdom it actually offers an interesting answer to the complaint that Taylor is insufficiently self-aware. This criticism emerges often in tandem with claiming to have discovered some crack in the chassis of Swift’s public self, revealing the sweetness to be insincere. My instinct is to dismiss this more or less out of hand as just a mutation of the school of thought that presumes all work by women must be autobiography. And, regardless, it is made altogether laughable by the fact that anyone actually paying attention has known since at least Speak Now, a delightful record populated by the most appalling, horrible characters imaginable, and all of them written by a twenty year old Taylor Swift, that this woman is a pure weirdo. To accuse Taylor Swift of lacking in self-awareness is a reductive misunderstanding, I think, of artifice. Being a fake bitch takes work. Which is to say, if we agree that her public self is a calculated performance—eliding the fact that all public selves are a performance to avoid getting too in the weeds yadda yadda— why, then, should it be presumed that performance is rooted in ignorance? Would it not make more sense that, in fact, someone able to contort themselves so ably into various shapes for public consumption would have a certain understanding of the basic materials they’re working with and concealing? Taylor Swift, in a decade and a half of fame, has presented herself from inside a number of distinct packages. The gangly teenager draped in long curls like climbing wisteria who wrote lyrics down her arms in glitter paint gave way to red lipstick, a Diet Coke campaign, and bad dancing at awards shows. There was the period where she was surrounded constantly by a gaggle of models, then suddenly wasn’t anymore, and that rough interlude with the bleached hair. The whole Polaroid thing. Last year she boldly revealed she’s a democrat. Now it’s the end of the world and she’s got frizzy bangs and flannels and muted little piano songs. Perhaps this endless shape-shifting contradicts or undermines, for some, the pose of tender authenticity which has remained static through each phase, but that doesn’t mean she hasn’t been doing it all on purpose the entire time. I’ve never been a natural, all I do is try, try, try...
In the Disney+ documentary—which, in order to watch, I had to grudgingly give the vile mouse seven dollars, because the login information that I’d begged off of my little sister didn’t work and I was too embarrassed to bring it up a second time—Taylor referred to “mirrorball” as the first time on the album where she explicitly addressed the pandemic, referring to the lyrics that start, “And they called off the circus, Burned the disco down,” and end with “I’m still on that tightrope, I’m still trying everything to get you laughing at me,” which actually did made me laugh, feeling sort of warmly foolish and a little fond, because it never would have occurred to me that she was trying to be literal there. I suppose we really do all contain multitudes. Hate that.
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justablobfish · 4 years
Text
An unusual snowman
Day 12 of my Advent Calender. A new drabble or oneshot everyday until Christmas, following the Continent’s favourite found family and what they’re up to in the winter season. Based on this prompt list
No witchers were harmed in the making of this fic. Everyone’s fine! :3
Read on AO3
Day 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11
______
This is bad. Very bad. They should never have stopped in this goddamn village. 
When they arrived, it was the middle of the night and - with everyone and their grandmother trying to sell Ciri out to Nilfgaard - they decided to get a room at the inn and smuggle the princess in through the back door unseen. 
Which turned out to be a mistake. Because that way no one could tell them. 
The next morning they woke up and Ciri had vanished without a trace.
When they asked around the village they soon found out that she hadn't been the first child to disappear. A few weeks ago children suddenly started disappearing overnight. No one had seen where they had gone to; no amount of locked doors and safety measures could keep them from being taken. 
Jaskier paces up and down in their room, uncertain what to do. 
It's been three days since Geralt set out to find the missing kids, since Geralt ordered him to stay here in case Ciri comes back. 
When Geralt took off, he only said he'd be back 'soon', unspecific and unhelpful as ever. Surely three days were no longer encompassed by the term 'soon'. Something must have gone wrong. 
And the more time passes, the less likely it becomes that Ciri and the other children will return unharmed. 
Jaskier stops in his tracks and gives a short, determined nod. There's only one thing to do. He has to go after them as well! 
While the children have disappeared without leaving any kind of clue to mortal humans, Geralt must have found some sort of trace, because once Jaskier reaches the edge of the village he can see a clear and straight trail of Geralt's footprints leading into the nearby woods. 
"Dark, gloomy forest. Always a good sign!" Jaskier tries to encourage himself and sets out to get his little family back from the clutches of whatever monster stole them. 
The tracks lead deep into the forest. While at first there are some felled trees, bird houses or the occasional discarded apple core, eventually the signs of nearby civilization become rarer and then disappear altogether. And still Geralt's tracks lead further. 
Jaskier soon falls into a sort of trance, placing one step in front of the other and with his eyes fixed on the ground in front of him. 
He almost doesn't notice when Geralt's trail ends. 
Jaskier blinks and Geralt's heavy boot prints are gone, replaced by a variety of far smaller imprints, that criss-cross all over the place. Surprised, he looks up. 
The first thing he registers is a small, crooked hut several feet away. The way it's decorated with pieces of candy and pastry (most of it clearly chewed on) practically screams evil magic trap. 
In front of the hut stands Geralt. 
Actually, no, at more than a glance it turns out it's not Geralt. It has Geralt's pauldrons and it holds Geralt's swords but other than that, it's a snowman. 
Dread spreads in Jaskier’s guts and he quickly jogs around the figure to get a closer look. On the other side, yellow eyes and furrowed eyebrows glare back at him. 
Except the yellow eyes are slices of carrots and the eyebrows are made of twigs. 
"Oh Geralt! What did they do to you?" Jaskier gasps. His knees suddenly feel very weak and he begins to think that following Geralt all by himself might not have been the smartest idea. 
The child of legend, whisked away right from under the nose of a Witcher, said Witcher turned into a snowman and only a humble bard left to save the day. What chance does he stand? What was he thinking? 
Then again, maybe there's something he can do. It always works in the old stories told to children and the weird hut with its candy decor definitely gives off the same kind of vibe as those tales. 
"Here goes nothing," Jaskier mumbles and places his lips on the snowman's mouth. Or, well, on the coals arranged in a frown on the snowman's face. 
And then he waits. 
For a moment. 
For a minute. 
For ten. 
Nothing happens. Seems true love's kiss only works in the stories, after all. 
Which begs the question of what he's supposed to do now. 
What chance does he stand where even a Witcher failed? And yet, what choice does he have? Whoever did this has taken his daughter, his family. He can't exactly just walk away. 
He'd never be able to look Yennefer in the eyes again. 
Hell, he'd never be able to look himself in the eyes again. And he so loves mirrors! 
So Jaskier reaches forward and grabs the steel sword from where it's sticking out of the large ball that makes up the snowman's torso. 
As his fingers close around the grip of the sword his hand brushes against the snow. 
And like a - well, like a snowman left in the sun for too long - it crumbles. 
"No, no, no!" Jaskier screams. "Stop! Don't do that! Please!" 
Before his eyes, the snowman that is his lover falls apart. He can only watch helplessly as the fractured part falls in on itself and slips off the bottom part. The head rolls to the side in an almost human-looking manner, until it falls to the ground as well. Before his eyes, Geralt turns into nothing but a pile of snow. 
The fact that his kiss didn't work he could live with but this? Even if there was a way to undo the spell that turned Geralt into a child's plaything, there's no coming back from this. Geralt is gone, his body destroyed. Jaskier’s best friend, the love of his life, has died. 
"I'm so sorry, Geralt," Jaskier whispers as he sinks to his knees. A dislodged slice of carrot glares at him accusingly. 
Jaskier absentmindedly places the sword he acquired at such a high cost on the ground beside him and wraps his arms around himself. 
"I shall write you the most glorious ballad ever written," he mumbles. "The whole Continent will know of your bravery." 
The words sound hollow, even to his own ears. A song won't bring Geralt back. What he really wants to do is curl up on the snow-covered ground and never get up again. 
But he can't do that. There's still Ciri. And he will get his daughter back, if it's the last thing he does. 
So Jaskier slowly gets up, grabs the sword again and turns towards the hut. The fear that had settled into his bones earlier at the idea that even Geralt couldn't best this sorcerer is gone. Now there's only fury and rage burning inside of him. This villainous toad-spotted miscreant of a mage has taken his family from him. They're going to pay! 
He opens the door and steps inside. 
The hut is bigger on the inside. Of course it is. Jaskier doesn't know why he expected anything different. The foyer itself is wide enough that the hut's exterior would fit into it twice. 
He also shouldn't be so surprised that the inside of the hut is entirely made of ice. Everything from the floor to the windowless walls to the twin set of stairs leading up to a second floor, which the hut definitely wasn't high enough for, looking at it from the outside. The mage is really going heavy on the whole fairy-tale villain aesthetic. 
Flickering candlelight from the huge chandelier overhead reflects off of every surface and makes the whole room seem to move and shift constantly. Jaskier starts feeling nauseous. 
It's hard to tell how many doors there are and which ones are only reflections, so he simply walks towards the large double door underneath the stairwells and heads through it. 
Unlike what he expected, the ice isn't cold to the touch and feels more like normal wood under his fingers. Maybe the ice is just an illusion. 
The room he finds himself in next is an even larger hall, equally made of ice and very clearly once intended as a ballroom. Various sconces illuminate an intricate pattern carved into the wide floor, while once colorful paintings of fancily dressed dancers on the walls are glossed over with the ever-present ice. 
Now, the room seems to serve a different purpose though. The floor is littered with various toys, dolls and plush animals. Chalk drawings cover not only several stacks of paper, but also the long banquet table at the far end of the room. It appears Jaskier is getting closer to the mystery of the missing children. They must have been playing here recently. 
While Jaskier looks around and tries to find any proof that Ciri was here as well, a side door opens and a curious voice asks "Hello?" His presence has been noticed, then. 
He turns around slowly, sword at the ready. 
In the door stands Ciri. 
"Jaskier!" she yells, relief and happiness swinging in her voice. Then she takes off running in his direction, followed by a group of other children. 
Ciri throws herself into his arms and clings to him like a curious kid's tongue to an icicle. Not that Jaskier has any experience with that particular situation. 
"I tried to get back to you but every time I tried to run away I always just ended up in front of the hut again," she whimpers. "It's enchanted or something!" 
"Well isn't that just adorable," comes a sneering voice from the other end of the room, where an elegantly dressed woman has appeared, seemingly out of nowhere. 
Her flawless skin and almost unnaturally symmetrical face mark her as a mage from Aretuza. 
Jaskier wraps his free hand around Ciri and pushes her behind him, while eyeing the sorceress warily. 
Ciri pays him little mind and steps back to his side. 
"Look, Gretel, you got it all wrong!" she tells the woman. "Parents do care about their children. This proves it." 
 "Nonsense!" the sorceress huffs. "My parents abandoned me as soon as money got a little tight. If Aretuza hadn't taken me in, I would have ended up just like my brother and died a horrible death at the hands of the awful witch that built this house!" 
"Then why is Jaskier here, risking his life to get me back?" Ciri counters "And Geralt, too?" 
"That proves nothing!" the mage all but shrieks. "The Witcher came to do his job. He came for the money he was promised. And this one? I bet he doesn't even know you well enough to keep you apart from the other children!" 
With that she raises her hands menacingly and suddenly, instead of Ciri and a dozen or so other kids, Jaskier is surrounded by several perfect copies of the Cintran princess. 
It's his worst nightmare. As if one Child Surprise wasn't already more than enough to handle. 
The Ciris stare at each other in surprise for a moment, before one of them breaks the silence by yelling "I'm the real one!" 
A split-second later Jaskier is surrounded by the gaggle of Ciris, yelling and giggling and trying to convince him that they're the right Ciri. It all seems to be a funny game to them. Jaskier’s head starts to spin from trying to get a good look at even one of them. 
"Stop!" he screams at the top of his lungs. "How am I supposed to pick someone if you keep running around me?" 
The children come to a halt and arrange themselves in a loose circle around him, quiet except for the occasional giggle still breaking through. 
However, only one of them rolls her eyes at Jaskier’s demanding tone. 
Jaskier places his hand on top of the real Ciri's head and glares at the sorceress. 
"See? I told you he couldn't do it! Parents are useless!" she gloats and waves her hand dismissively. The Ciris turn back into the children they were before. 
Only the one Jaskier chose remains the same. 
"Impossible!" Gretel shouts as the smug grin falls from her face. "But that doesn't prove anything! We need another test! How about-" 
With few short strides Jaskier crosses the room, grabs the sorceress by the front of her dress and shoves her against the wall. 
"Enough," he presses out between clenched teeth as he places the sword across her bare throat. "I am done with your games! Undo the spell that keeps the children trapped!" 
"Cute," the witch muses without any sign of fear or worry. "But you do know that I can turn you into a pile of dust with a snap of my fingers, right?" 
"Do I look like I give a damn?" Jaskier growls. "You took my daughter away from me! I don't care what you do to me, I will tear you to pieces if you don't let her go!" 
"Hmm," she replies solemnly. "Interesting. Perhaps I was mistaken in my judgment. There do seem to be some parents who love and protect their children." 
Before Jaskier can further comment on that, the witch is gone. Vanished into thin air, just like how she appeared. He stares at his empty hand in surprise, where he had clutched the fabric of her dress a moment ago. 
There goes his chance to avenge Geralt. The fury that was gnawing at his guts starts to settle. Jaskier holds onto it desperately. He knows that once the anger is gone, only grief will remain. 
At least Ciri is unharmed. Jaskier turns around slowly and faces the group of children, who stare back at him expectantly. 
"She wasn't malicious, you know?" Ciri explains. "Just misguided and lonely. Although she did curse Geralt with a spell that turned him into an inanimate object." 
"I know," Jaskier whispers, barely audible with the lump that has formed in his throat. How can he possibly tell Ciri what happened to Geralt? That her guardian is gone and won't come back? She's lost so many people already in her short life. 
"He's in the room over there," Ciri adds chipperly and takes off. 
"... wait, what?" Jaskier stutters as he scrambles after her, followed by the rest of the children who chatter with one another excitedly. 
Ciri leads him to an adjacent room. It's not nearly as big as the ballroom, but still large enough that it couldn't possibly fit into the little hut he saw from the outside. An enormous feather bed occupies most of the opposite wall, big enough for at least three or four grown people to sleep on, or a dozen or so kidnapped children. 
The rest of the room is taken up by various shelf boards mounted to the walls, filled with dozens upon dozens of porcelain dolls. Their empty eyes seem to stare at him as Ciri leads him further into the room 
"Over there," Ciri declares and points at one particular doll. It doesn't look much different from the other ones, safe for its face. Its mouth is sculpted in the shape of a frown instead of the cheerful smiles of the other ones and its yellow eyes, despite being made of lifeless glass beads, seem to glare back at Jaskier angrily. 
"That's… That's Geralt?" Jaskier asks carefully, not quite ready to allow himself to hope. 
"Of course," Ciri chides. "Who else would it be? Look at the face! I tried to sneak around Gretel's laboratory and look for a way to turn him back, but I couldn't find anything."
"We had lots of fun playing with him while Ciri was away!" a little boy announces happily. Some other children giggle affirmatively. 
"Anyway," Ciri sighs as she gently pats the boy's head and ruffles his hair. She seems to be the oldest kid around. The others appear to be looking up to her. 
"I'm sure if you just kiss him that'll break the spell!" Ciri continues. "And then we can finally get out of here and return these little monsters to their parents." 
"So uhm…," Jaskier mumbles. "Entirely unrelated, totally random and unimportant question, but, uh, what's with that snowman outside the door?" 
"The children built it earlier today," Ciri shrugs. "I told them not to use Geralt's armor, that he'd want it back once he gets uncursed, but I don't think they listened. Why are you asking?"
"No reason!" Jaskier huffs and quickly grabs the doll before Ciri can notice how he's turning bright red. 
She narrows her eyes at him, but he turns his back to her and presses a kiss to the doll's…well, face. It's not exactly big enough for more precision. 
A bright light emits from it and Jaskier has to close his eyes firmly. 
Suddenly, his hands are no longer holding on to the doll but instead are wrapped around a very firm and familiar waist. 
The light slowly dims and flickers out. Jaskier opens his eyes carefully. In front of him stands Geralt of Rivia, unharmed and scowling even more than usual. 
"Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes, my fair lady," Jaskier teases. 
"What?" Geralt grumbles and looks down at himself, taking in the bright pink dress made up of an abundance of ruffles, as well as the intricately woven braid that rests on his shoulder. 
"The fuck?" he concludes. "When the witch cursed me my clothes stayed the same size. Why did the dress grow with me then?" 
"Well, there are children around," Ciri huffs with an annoyed click of her tongue. "Now can we finally get out of here?" 
"I need some pants," Geralt growls. "This is far too impractical. I can't fight the witch like that." 
"Well, the witch is gone," Jaskier shrugs. "And I don't think she'll be coming back." 
"Then what about the enchantment that kept the kids trapped here?" Geralt huffs. 
"Lifted," Ciri explains. "At least she said she would." 
"Oh," Geralt remarks. "Any… other monsters in the area? Some rabid dogs? Anything else?" 
"No, dear," Jaskier answers. "I think all the work is already taken care of. You can relax for once." 
"Riiiight," Geralt mumbles slowly. Then he nods to himself. "Then I guess I'll just keep wearing this for now." 
"Absolutely, love!" Jaskier encourages. "It suits you tremendously." 
"Gross," Ciri comments as Jaskier leans in for a proper kiss with his rescued lover. "Now can we please get out of here, already?" 
13 notes · View notes
parkeraul · 5 years
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want it back | s.m
a/n: today’s q&a gave me the whole vibe for this dad!shawn blurb. enjoy i guess. warnings: dad!shawn and (i tried to) fluff.
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“Dada!” Shawn hears that pitchy voice screaming and coming closer to where he is, sat down on the couch plucking the strings of his guitar. He widens his eyes and turns his head to the side, immediately capturing the sight of those tiny feet tumbling around after coming downstairs.  “What did I tell you about running on the st—”  “Look!” He can’t finish the sentence because she’s climbing his legs to sit on his lap. Struggling, she grabs the fabric of his white shirt to get impulse after he places the guitar aside, holding back a laughter because the cuteness of the view is too much: her chocolate hair is falling in front of her face and, although she’s having a hard time escalating his long legs, she doesn’t give up. Shawn holds her middle with both hands and rearranges his frame on the sofa, helping her to sit on top of him. She shows him a wide and forced smile, her lips all purple from the grape juice she was drinking and Shawn moves his head to all the sides, trying to find what’s wrong.  “Look what, hun?” He asks, grabbing her little chin in between his fingers and tilting her face up. Her nose is scrunched and her eyes are squinting, due to the strength she’s putting to spread her smile even bigger.  “My tooth!”  “I see all of your teeth, darlin’.”  “Noooo, dada,” She uses the tip of her forefinger to put on top of her front tooth. “This one!”  “What’s the matter with it?”  “It’s swaying back and forth,” Poking her tongue to move the little tooth repeatedly, she nearly shoves her own face onto his so he can finally identify the problem. In her imagination, the tooth is in a playground playing with the swing chairs — pretty much why she hadn’t freaked out yet.
“Swaying back and forth?” Shawn asks, slightly surprised. “You mean loose?”  “Loose?” Her heart sinks a little and she sits back on his legs, looking at him kind of shocked. She doesn’t understand why he’s smiling so sweetly towards her when serious things are happening right now. “Yes, baby,” He tucks her hair behind her ears, unsuccessfully trying to clean the purple stains from the corner of her lips. “See, when we’re little it’s normal to—”  “But I don’t wanna lose it, dada,” Her tone fails and she puts her finger back on her tooth, as if she’s got the control over it to make it stay in its place for as long as she wants it to. Shawn feels like melting, watching her hazel eyes watering like she’s about to lose a very important thing. It’s important for her, of course, so he doesn’t wash her over with an entire rational or scientific explanation. Instead, he pulls her closer and gives her hair a gentle rub, trying to comfort her heaving little chest. “Am I going to lose it?”  “No, you’re not,” He freezes, noticing the biggest lie he just told his little girl without even thinking twice. Oh, she would be so mad at him. “I mean... Like... Well, what dada wants to say is...” Shawn is gesturing his hands crazily, looking up at the ceiling so he doesn’t need to feel her worried look slicing him in two. He tries to ramble and ends up defeated by his own thoughts. He had to be honest and sincere with her, that’s something he promised himself and promised to her as well. He chuckles under his breath, realising how serious he’s taking all of this. Maybe it’s the burning love that he feels for the little version of himself, sitting in front of him with her two thumbs and two forefingers pinching the loosened tooth unstoppably, bringing him to live intensely one of the most terrifying situations for a little child. “Yes, you’re going to lose it. Sorry I lied to you before. But don’t worry, sweets, it won’t hurt and dada is here to help you out, eh?” He stares at her, still looking at him with big puppy eyes — moistened by thin lines of tears as they brighten up due to that — with both hands up on her mouth. “This tooth, this one that’s swaying back and forth, has to leave because a stronger and prettier one is coming to replace it, okay?” He says, poking her hand lightly to refer at her tooth behind it.  “But I want this one, dada.”  “And you can keep it, darling,” Shawn says, a curl of his flopping down and a curl of hers does the same thing. “We’ll find another place for it.”  “I don’t wanna be untoothed!”  “You don’t wanna be what?” He laughs, feeling a little guilt tap his shoulder and tell him not to, because she’s probably very close to start crying.  “Untoothed,” Her bottom lip juts out and she pouts, chin contorting and trembling as she fights back her own cry. The words are still muffled by her fingers — getting completely soaked from the long time they’ve been in her mouth — and somehow it’s even funnier for Shawn. Not fun because she’s in pain, of course not. It’s fun because she’s helplessly cute even this desperate, innocently trying to understand why the hell her beloved tooth has to leave. He feels the extreme urge to keep her in his pocket and carry her wherever he goes.  “You won’t be, babe,” He cups her small face in his enormous palm. “Didn’t you listen to daddy? Another one will come out, you’re not gonna be untoothed.”  “Promise?”  He exhales deeply, closing his eyes for a moment and trying hard not to squeeze her petit body and tickle her endlessly.  “I promise, bub,” Shawn pinches her cheek weakly, winking and smiling at her. “And don’t worry, ‘kay? When dada first lost a tooth, it felt the same way. I was scared, I feared that I’d be... untoothed, and turns out it’s totally alright. It doesn’t hurt at all and, although it takes some time for the new tooth to show up, it’s gonna happen. It really is—”  “How long?” Her voice is no longer muffled by her hands, and he hears her tongue clicking against the roof of her mouth repetitively.  “Not sure, love,” Shawn confesses. “Probably until Christmas it’ll be there, eh? I don’t know exactly, it really depends— DID YOU JUST PULL YOUR TOOTH OUT?”  When he looks at her more attentively, his gaze drops down to her hands holding the little tooth while she maps the inside of her mouth with her tongue, trying to adapt herself to the new sensation of being... Untoothed. There’s a little bit of blood on top of the tooth, and a little bit on the hole that used to keep the tooth before and she can taste it, the reason why she’s been snapping her tongue relentlessly. She doesn’t quite realise until he says it out loud, and the panic takes over her slowly when she also looks at the tooth in between her wet fingers.  “I did?” She asks more to herself than to her father, who’s now watching her half proud of her subconscious braveness and half concerned about her reactions that are yet to come. “I did! Dada, I did!”  “There you go—”  “I want it back!” She offers him the tooth and he takes it on his palm. Before he can analyse the little piece with more patience, she’s inching closer and opening her mouth to him. “Put it back, dada!” The squeaky tone of her shaky voice breaks his heart, wishing he could’ve recorded it all to show her when she’s older and to keep it to himself, just like he’s been doing with every single memorable moment of hers (and the not-so-memorable as well, if he’s honest).  “We can’t put it back, baby,” Shawn uses the most calming tone he can, more than gentle to assure her that things are going to be just fine. “See?” He puts the tooth back in place and instantly opens his hand under it, seeing the tooth fall back onto his palm. “It won’t stay. But it’s okay, love. It’s alright. Look at me.”  And so she does.  “Just imagine that the Tooth Fairy will come over tonight, after dinner, and glue the new tooth so well that it’s never gonna fall off again, hm? Remember when we talked about her?” She nods along, eyes just like his scanning the living room like she’s searching for something. “But you’ll need to go to bed early and brush your teeth, so she can give you a new one. Alright?”  “Promise?”  He smiles, always softening up to the phase when she learned to make everyone promise her the things they say. He could promise to give her the entire world, because one day he probably will.  “I promise, princess. Now c’mere,” She shifts next to him and he holds her close to his body, kissing the top of her head and caressing her back. “Dada loves you.” 
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Later that day, his little girl was still on her bedroom after their conversation. She bailed and told him she had some very important things to do — paraphrasing her own father, using the words he uses when he needs to work on new music instead of playing with her — and since then, she never left upstairs again. 
“Where’s she?” Y/N asks, coming behind Shawn to embrace his middle.  “She’s in her room, doing important stuff.” Grinning to himself, he says as he finishes setting up the dinner table.  “I’ll go check on her, she’s been silent for a while.” 
And just when he’s done, putting his phone out of his pocket to scroll through random social medias, a voice calls him out. 
“What happened?”  Y/N says nothing, just points to the room. The floor is painted with ribbons of white and the little table that his daughter uses to draw is dripping with ribbons of white as well, leading the way to the mirror on the wall where that tiny little frame is in front of. Sitting down with her mouth, hands and clothes stained with white glue, she switches looks between her mom and her dad. The little tooth is right there on her dirty hands, nearly lost in a pool of glue after her many failed attempts to get the damn tooth back in place.  “She said she couldn’t wait until the fairy comes, neither the Christmas.”  And he remembers about the terrible analogy he used before. Well, damn.  “I think I can explain it.”
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undergroundkid · 4 years
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Chapter 1: Dazzling welcome
- Y/N, hey! I thought you were free today?
You hanged your coat and ruffled hands through your hair to get rid of remaining snowflakes from the storm outside. Seriously, winter sucks. No snow for Christmas, but of course February is a perfect time for Mother Nature to bury whole humankind in white disaster.
- New chick needed day off, so I offered. Is that a problem? - Not at all! – your manager smiled sweetly in your direction and started to gather papers for your shift.
Of course it wasn’t like somebody cared about your eighth day in the row here. Or ninth.
Your parents thought it was normal for you to spent all your time working, because what else could you do? Job held you in place and organised your time properly, at least. Without it you would loose yourself, or became some kind of antisocial freak. Too easily to drop into a shameless life of God knows what – parties, alcohol and drugs, surely. Like the daughter of the neighbours, did you see her coming back home at 3 AM with another stranger? Our Y/N isn’t like that, she works hard and behave properly.
Of course she behaves, because she has nothing else to do. You work almost everyday, sell  smiles to hotel guests and offer all the help you can, even if their wishes are absurd sometimes.
Being raised the way you are, you work hard, often making sacrifices of barely existing free time. Your hobbies also started to disappear, since every time you get some moment for yourself, all you could think about was jumping into bed and how to minimaze chances of getting out of comfy sheets. Work, sleep, occasional Netflix – pretty much sums up your life.
No wonder your boyfriend dumped you for some random chick.
- Okay Y/N, all the documents must be ready for morning – thankfully or not, your manager didn’t hear your inner discussion:- Good night!
When he told you he wanted to break up, you were a little surprised and confused – what, why he all of a sudden ..? – but above all, you were unaffected. Few seconds of shock passed and..  your heart still beat all the same. Today, you started to understand his decision – your life was a constant work or dozing off after ten minutes of a tv show. Hella boring for people your age – especially when you compare your life to his present one. His instagram feed was rich with parties and various, attractive girls.
Well, maybe your heart wasn’t all „whatever”. It still stinged a little. Why he didn’t tell you that wasn’t what he wanted? Wait, he was the one who insisted you got a job - so you got one. A tough one, but you managed and you’re known for high job ethic here.
Why do I keep making it sound like it’s the job of my dream? It’s only freaking hotel reception. I’m not even getting paid enough for dealing with such a mess. I’m just stuck here because I’m good enough for management and I probably won’t get any better work than this.
- Good evening, madam.
You moved the documents away along with your moody musings and shifted to smile in the direction of a voice.
Usual greetings died on your tongue though.
You’re used to seeing random guests here, some more modest, some less. Ladies in extra jewelery, quiet men with perfectly tailored suits, fashionable couples clinging to each other – seriously, you saw it all.
But the man standing before you was extraordinary; tall, in slim, striped suit. He was very elegant, even if he was fairly young – maybe your age. He had long, beautiful face and his smile was probably breathtaking because of his plump lips. Sadly, he didn’t smile; big, dark eyes didn’t spoil any secrets.
Maybe he was a model? But hey, you’re sure you would remember him..
- Do you have free rooms? – he asked, not affected by your staring. Probably used to it everyday.
- Ah, y-yes, of course – you stuttered, still a little dizzy from his beauty:- Do you wish to make a reservation, sir?
- Very much so – he sighed, leaning on his elbows; it was when you saw he was holding an umbrella. Dry one. How is that possible in snowstorm outside?
- Alright, just for one or double? – you easily slipped into your work mode, trying to composure yourself.
He shook his head.
- Not exactly. You have apartments here?
- Yes, of course. On the top floor.
- How many?
- Seven doubles, we can move in extra beds if there’s a need.
- No, it’s perfect – he decided without hesitation:- I take all of them. Please arrange it for single guests.
- Oh, all right – you tapped a few commands into computer:- Until when do you wish to make this reservation?
He sighed again, looking at the ceiling in contemplation. His swan like neck made him look even more aristocratic.
- Make it a month for now.
You quickly wrote the date in system; damn. Your manager will go crazy. That amount of money will easily fulfill this month’s budget.
- Alright, we will need advance payment for this one – you informed the mysterious man:- Also the personal data of other guests. And your ID, of course.
- Yes, here it is – he took white envelope out of his jacket and slide it onto the reception’s countertop:- Here’s all the payment. As for the other guests..
You carefully took the envelope, which was heavier than you first thought. Quick look inside suggested it was even more than necessary for his request. You started to question the situation – is he from mafia? Who carry around that amount of cash? Maybe you should check if it’s not counterfeit. What if you just booked whole floor for some damn cartel?
- I’m not quite sure who will arrive or even when, but let them check in by my name – he handed you black card with golden writing. No address, no phone number, just name and minimal drawing of a clock.
- Well, look like it’s time for me to leave – enigmatic gentleman looked at his wristwatch. You barely caught different clock faces on its surface before he straightened his tie and turned around to the exit.
- B-but sir! We need your docu..
- Goodnight, miss Y/L/N – young man gave you last look, already holding the door knob and bowed his head slightly in your direction:- We will meet soon, hopefully.
He didn’t wait for you explanation about how it’s not the way you book rooms here; he disappeared behind the doors. What were you supposed to do? His actions were rather shady. All your thoughts were rational and you can’t deny, whole situation spread suspicious vibes.
But were you intrigued ..?
- Who was it? New guest? – suddenly there was Yoonho next to your desk, dressed in his neatly cleaned uniform:- He looked very young.. Y/N?
You looked at the card in your hand; Chae Hyungwon.
.. Damn right you were.
thank you for reading
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missnighttigress · 6 years
Text
I’ll Be Home for Christmas
Characters: James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes, Steve Rogers, Reader (specifically targeted to @oh-snap-bucky)
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (@oh-snap-bucky)
Word Count: 4,418
Summary: Y/N was always in the Christmas spirit, even when times were tough for Team Cap during their rogue days. After losing the love of her life in the snap, Christmas has lost its luster for her. Irritated by being around the compound, she sets off for home, hoping for a break and maybe a chance to start some other traditions. This continues for five years until one particular trip proves to be particularly enchanting...
Warnings: angst, mild language (a curse word sprinkled intermittently), heartbreak, fluff at the end I promise
A/N: I had the tremendous honor of being the Secret Santa for @oh-snap-bucky for @itsbuckysworld‘s Marvel Secret Santa this year. I went through her wishlist and hoped to touch point by point. Merry Christmas, dear, and I really hope you enjoy. I am so terribly sorry for the heartbreak. After Infinity War and the Endgame trailer, I’ve just been feeling this vibe. I hope you have a spectacular holiday!
Christmas was a magical season. People had pine trees that glistened with twinkling lights and glittering tinsel. Stores decked themselves out in reds, greens, and silvers as they urged you to purchase the perfect gift for your someone special at their location. Radios buzzed with holiday carols in hopes of making listeners dream of snowy pastures and hot cocoa snuggles by the fire.
Indeed, Christmas was supposed to be a magical season. But for Y/N, this particular Christmas had lost all its enchanting luster. That’s because her longtime boyfriend, Sergeant James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes, wouldn’t be home this Christmas...thanks to a giant purple space freak.
As the year slipped further into the holiday season, Y/N became more and more irritable. As much as she tried to hide it, she couldn’t conceal much from her and Bucky’s best friend, Steve Rogers.
Y/N was sprawled out across one of the common room couches, her thumb constantly flipping through channels on the enormous flat screen television. News channels were covering how people were handling the holidays with half the population missing. Freeform was showing nothing but holiday movies, and she couldn’t even look at the root-your-teeth-out romantic crap Hallmark was airing. A snarl ripped from her throat as she turned the TV off, whipping the remote in a nearby armchair before draping an arm over cerulean eyes.
“I take it there’s nothing on?”
The voice from behind the couch made her rip her arm away to stare into concerned baby blues hovering over her. She sighed and shook her head. “Not a damn thing. Everything is either rubbing salt in the wound from the decimation or it’s sappy romantic bullshit.”
Steve cocked his head to the side, his brow furrowing. “The Y/N I know is a sucker for that sappy romantic stuff.”
She growled again before pushing herself off the leather couch and onto the floor to pace. “That was before Thanos disintegrated the people I love, those I care about.” Her hands reached up to rake through her shoulder-length blonde hair. She walked a few feet before slowly rotating on her heel, eyes now red and threatening to overflow with the tears that sat on the edges of them. “Stevie…” she whispered, “I...I can’t be here for the holidays. Not this year.”
Sadness and understanding flooded his face. In the months since Thanos’ snap, he knew Y/N was having a difficult time. When she wasn’t at a training session, she was holed up in her room with a movie or a book, trying to lose herself in any world that wasn’t crashing around her. Prior to then, she was the bubbly, cheery one that made everyone get involved in whatever activity she was doing, especially when they went into hiding. His chest heaved in a heavy sigh. “If you can’t be here, where will you go?”
She rolled her shoulders in a weak shrug. “My parents’ place, maybe? Just for a couple weeks until the holiday season is behind me. I just can’t stay...here.”
“I get it,” Steve murmured, advancing towards her. “You’re one of my closest friends, Y/N. As much as I want to be selfish and keep you around, that’s not fair to you. Being here is going to remind you of him too much. You should go home. You need a break. Just...promise me one thing, won’t you?”
“Anything.”
A tiny smile formed over his lips, but the worry was still evident in his face. Worry that if she went home she’d never come back unless Bucky was found...if he could be found. “Promise me that you’ll come back?”
Y/N choked out a laugh and soft sob as she jumped to wrap her arms around Steve (as much as she could anyway). She buried her head against his chest. “You’re such a punk, Steve. I’m going to come back after the holidays, I promise.”
“Good,” he breathed, swooping down to give her a ginger peck on the head. “Because I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you, too.”
Steve’s words echoed in Y/N’s ears as she packed her suitcase to head to her parents’ place. For a while, she couldn’t help the pang of guilt that riddled her stomach. Steve was hurting too, everyone was, and Christmas was supposed to be a season of togetherness. She wasn’t really embracing the “togetherness” spirit by taking off.
Then again, how could she be “together” if a piece of her heart was missing? Her mind trailed to a tall man with long tendrils of dark chocolate with piercing eyes that could kill a man if he wanted...or cut her to her core as he often did. She thought about the first time she met Bucky, when Steve had contacted her for intel while he was on the run after the Sokovia Accords situation. That smolder of his as his eyes traced her up and down triggered a fire inside her, one she couldn’t quell without being around him. A few flirtatious meetings later, and he finally had the cajones to ask her on a proper date. When he and the rest of Team Cap had to go underground, there was no question about it. She went with them more than willingly. Even though the conditions weren’t always the best and they were always looking over their shoulders, she and Bucky made the best of everything...because they found each other.
That night, she dreamed of her former Hydra super soldier. She dreamed about their first Christmas together, when she found this beautiful fern someone was throwing out on the side of the road and brought it back to the run-down motel they were in. Her hands were immediately busy with her sketchbook, drawing little trees and holiday ornaments. Quickly, she worked to carefully rip around the edges of her scribbles, leaving ample room at the top for her to tear a hole in them in order to hang. When Bucky came back that night, he was taken aback at the makeshift Christmas tree, but then immediately peppered Y/N with kisses to show his appreciation.
She couldn’t help but replay the dream during the tedious drive to her parent’s place. It sprinkled in between thoughts of Steve and the bear hug they shared before she got in the car. He checked her oil and tire pressure for her before she left, and she gave him the address she’d be at on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, in case he needed a break too.
After quite the trek, the vehicle roared up to the roadside curb in front of her parents’ place. Her eyes fixated on her childhood home, where a dark figure stood on the top step of the wooden porch. Though dusk was approaching, she could tell by the broad shoulders that it was her father.
There was a huge wolf-like creature resting on his haunches next to her father, and the sight of the dog made Y/N’s eyes brighten. Instantly, she clamored out of the car and ran to the other side, arms flying open. “Apollo! C’mere, baby!”
Her father dropped Apollo’s leash, and this husky came barreling at the woman. He slowed upon approach so as not to knock her over, but his whole body wagged in excitement at seeing his owner after so long. He licked a stripe up her cheek as her fingers ruffled his fur. “Who’s a good boy?” she cooed. “Apollo’s my good boy!”
After a moment, she rose to her feet and started up to the home while her dad stepped down to the sidewalk. As soon as she reached him, he took her in his arms and gave her a tight squeeze. “My baby, Y/N. I’ve missed you,” he whispered against her hair, his voice breaking.
Y/N swallowed thickly, trying not to lose her composure as well. “I...I missed you too, Dad.”
The two pulled apart after holding each other a while, her dad instantly reaching up to collect the tears at the sides of his eyes. “I’m...I’m glad you decided to come home for the holidays this year. This was going to be a hard year without you or your mother…”
The lump was even harder in Y/N’s throat. She wasn’t the only one to lose the love of her life. Her parents had been out antiquing when the snap happened, and her mother turned to ash in front of her father just as Bucky had. It was another reason why she wanted to go home for the holidays. Her dad needed her more than Steve and the others did. “I’m sorry, Dad. The team...you know, they’re all racking their brains to come up with a solution.”
“If there even is one.”
There was a lingering silence between the two of them before her father shook his head and clapped a hand on her back, pushing her toward the door. “C’mon, kiddo. Enough sadness. Let’s just enjoy each other’s company and get the holidays started right, huh?”
The first few days Y/N spent with her father were great. She really couldn’t complain. They both understood how the other felt about the holiday season right then, and they tried to veer away from doing anything too holiday-oriented. They watched action movies or old westerns while snacking on chips, and took Apollo out for strolls around the neighborhood. Their idea of a Christmas tree this year was one of those ceramic trees with little pegs that lit up. That was all the festive they were getting.
That was, until Christmas Eve came around. Y/N’s aunt invited them over for a Christmas Eve party, and her dad was all gung-ho and ready to go. Y/N...not so much. Christmas Day was special, sure. Christmas Eve, however, was always the most fun with Bucky.
“I don’t really feel like going to [Y/A/N]’s tonight, Dad,” she murmured, curled up on their couch with Apollo on the opposite end. “It’s going to be a lot of Christmas trees and cookies and holiday carols and it’s just...it’s going to be too hard.”
[Y/D/N] cocked an eyebrow from his recliner toward his daughter. “But you love going over there! It’s Aunt [A/N] we’re talking about here! Doesn’t she always slip you $10?”
Her fingers fiddled with the fur by Apollo’s collar idly. “I do love her, Dad, but this has nothing to do with that. Christmas Eve was always special with Bucky. We had our own traditions that we started together and I don’t get to do that this year.”
“Y/N, look at me.”
She raised her eyes to meet her father’s.
“You know, neither your mother nor this Bucky fellow would want us to sit here and mourn during what’s supposed to be a happy time. I won’t force you to go...but I’m going because your mother would kick my ass if I sat here and moped around. Promise me you won’t do the same.”
She sighed and scooped Apollo’s head from her legs, moving them before placing him back on the cushion. “I’m not. I’m going out, too.”
In typical father fashion, she was met with a gruff, “Where to?”
Her shoulders rolled in a shrug as she grabbed her jacket, purse and keys. “Out. Around town. Crazy. I don’t really know, Dad. It’s just wherever the road takes me.” As she was getting ready, she caught a glimpse of his features twisted in worry. Her cerulean orbs rolled as she gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “I work with the Avengers, for crying out loud, Dad. I’ll be safe, I promise.”
He grumbled a bit before giving her a small nod. “You’re right. Just be careful and have your butt back in this house by 11 o’clock. Santa starts his rounds at midnight, you know.”
She couldn’t help but snort at the sentiment as she stepped through the door. “Love you, Dad!”
Y/N drove around town for a while, weaving through the streets and losing herself in her thoughts. She thought about the Christmas Eve traditions she started with Bucky, how goofy they were but they had meant the world to her...and to him as well it seemed. She went out every year and would buy them a new set of Christmas pajamas to wear, one small game each, a mug, a snack and a pack of hot cocoa and wrap those items up in a box for them to open on Christmas Eve. The year prior, she bought him a green light-up onesie that said “fa-la-la-llama” and had a big wool llama on it. Though he grumbled and griped, he snatched it from her hands when she went to take it back and wore it with pride, even if Steve and Natasha both keeled over cackling at him.
She couldn’t help but smile at the memory as she turned onto a road that led outside the town and into the countryside. As she raced past the lines of oaks and maples, she thought about taking Bucky back there, showing him where she grew up. She envisioned taking Apollo for a walk in the forest until they came to a clearing, where Bucky would have laid out this little picnic (complete with snacks for the pupper). They would devour the food while savoring each other’s presence and the majestic scenery before he’d twist to her and take her hand, opening a small square velvet box…
If they ever saw Thanos again, she’d do what Thor didn’t and aim right for his bulbous head.
Bright neon lights flashed “Late Night Dine Right” up ahead, breaking her from her rage momentarily. Her gut let out a deep growl, and she realized she hadn’t eaten much all day. A diner burger did sound really good just then.
Once she had the car safely parked in their gravel parking lot, she sauntered in and was immediately transported back to the 1950s. They really made the place look like a classic diner. The floor was coated in white and black checkered linoleum. The candy-apple-red booths and barstools were leather, puffed up to look extra inviting and comfortable. The tabletops were solid, white with a few scuff marks from the millions of plates they probably saw slide across them. In one corner of the room was an old-time jukebox, radiating red, orange and yellow neon while it crooned Bing Crosby’s “White Christmas.” She couldn’t help but snort slightly. Bucky would have loved the place.
“Go ahead and make yourself at home, sweet pea! I’ll be right with you!”
The silvery voice broke Y/N away from her appreciation of the scene in front of her and onto the woman behind the counter. The woman looked to be in her 50s or 60s. Her curly red hair was pinned up in a Lucille Ball style, her lips painted fire engine red. The dress she donned was a Tiffany blue with a white waist apron. Y/N reached her own arm and gave it a slight pinch. No, this wasn’t some oddly specific facet of her imagination. This was the real world.
Shrugging her jacket off, she followed the waitress’s orders and slid into a booth right by the door, facing across from the jukebox. Menus were resting right on the table, so she grabbed one to peruse. Chicken parmesan, eggs benedict, t-bone steak with hash browns...everything sounded so good. Before she got the most extravagant thing, though, she wanted to try a hamburger. You could usually tell how good the rest of the food was at a place if their burgers were up to snuff. Just as she was placing the menu back in its holder, the waitress appeared by her table.
“Hi there, sweet pea. I’m Miss Georgia and I’m going to be your waitress this evening. What can I get you to drink?”
Up close, she could see that Georgia had dark circles under her eyes, no doubt from busting her rear working at a 24/7 diner on Christmas Eve. Suddenly, Y/N felt very sheepish and very guilty.
“I’m sorry, Georgia. I didn’t even think. I shouldn’t be making you work extra on Christmas Eve.”
Georgia offered her a genuine smile. “Oh honey. I’d be working my tail off whether you were here or not. You seem like a sweetheart and aren’t gonna cause me any problems, unlike half the drunk clientele I get in here. Now, what can I get ya?”
Y/N gave the woman a warm grin. “Water with lemon, please.”
“‘Water with lemon,’” Georgia repeated, scribbling the drink order in her notepad. “And judging by how you put that menu back, I’m guessing you’re ready to order. What would you like?”
“I’d like a double cheeseburger please, with cheddar if you have it, and a side of seasoned fries.”
Georgia’s fingers scribbled the order quickly and she gave Y/N another wide smirk. “A woman who knows exactly what she wants and isn’t afraid to go after it. Sweet pea, I like you. Order’s coming right up, okay?”
“Thank you!” Y/N called as she took the order back to the kitchen. She waited a moment before digging in her purse and retrieving her sketchbook and pencil case, spreading the materials out on the table in front of her. She opened the book to a random page, and a gasp escaped her lips.
Inside the random page she chose was a picture she had tucked away. A tall man with long, dark chocolate tendrils was staring straight out of the photo and into her heart, it felt like. His cocky smirk made her heart race, her breath stop. She was the one who took the photo during one of their first dates at a Romanian cafe, and she had completely forgot about it. Tears stung her eyes.
She was so focused on her find that she didn’t even notice Georgia’s return until the water was placed in front of her. “Oh my, what a little cutie! Is that your boyfriend?”
Y/N could do nothing but swallow and nod.
“You got yourself quite a catch! He looks so handsome and mysterious. Almost reminds me of someone my grandmother once dated actually. She took a picture with him at Coney Island. Huh. Maybe a distant relative.” Georgia stopped momentarily, her head craning to get into your line of vision. “Sweet pea, it’s Christmas Eve! There’s no crying on Christmas Eve!”
Y/N sniffled and wiped at her eyes. “S-Sorry. It’s just...Christmas was one of our favorite seasons together.”
Georgia offered a sympathetic nod. “My Henry was like that as well. This is...this is my first season without him actually. That’s why I’ve buried myself in shifts here. One day, I was cooking in our kitchen and he was in the living room. I heard him call for me, and I caught the tail end of him turning into ash right in front of my eyes.”
Y/N looked up at the woman, whose jungle green eyes were glistening with tears. “Oh, Miss Georgia. I’m so sorry. That’s...I lost Bucky that way, too.”
There was a sigh from the waitress. “Well...they say that the Avengers are actively working on a solution, if there even is one. If they had been around prior to all this happening, maybe it wouldn’t even be a problem.”
Y/N wanted to leap to the defense of her team, but Georgia was suffering just as much as she was, and in times of crisis, people looked for someone to blame even if they didn’t deserve that blame. If...when they found a solution to what happened, a reversal, maybe then people wouldn’t be so harsh on the team.
“I’ll be home for Christmas…”
Georgia snarled from the tableside. “Now, how rude is that? That damn jukebox is playing on our misery! Huh uh. No way.” She stomped over to the jukebox and jammed her fingers against the screen, instantly changing discs. Rotating on her heel, she turned her attention to Y/N. “I’m gonna make a sign. No one is allowed to play that song when either one of us is here.”
Y/N couldn’t help but giggle. Oh, she liked Georgia. She was sweet and friendly but also feisty. “Oh, Miss Georgia,” Y/N chuckled. “I propose a new Christmas tradition! I’ll come back here every Christmas Eve as long as you’re working.”
Georgia stopped as she traipsed behind the counter. A smile played at her lips before she turned her full focus back to Y/N, green eyes alight. “Well now, sweet pea...I’d think I’d like that.”
For four consecutive years, Y/N kept her promise to Georgia. Every holiday season kept getting easier and easier, thanks to their little tradition. It was an added bonus that the food was spectacular...and she got to visit her dad and Apollo.
It was going on the fifth year when things got a little rocky, particularly with Steve. When he caught wind of Y/N’s request for her usual two weeks off, he instantly barged into her suite at the compound.
“Y/N, please tell me you’re not going back there this year” he pleaded.
Y/N was sprawled out on her bed with her Kindle in her hand, and she cocked an eyebrow at the way he approached her. “Excuse me? Stevie, you know I go every year. You’ve never had a problem before. What gives?”
He started pacing at the front of her bed, muscular hands running through his dirty blonde locks. “Y/N, you know we’re just so, so close to fixing this thing. With Scott and Tony actively working with that time contraption of theirs, I think we might finally be on the brink of a possible solution...a possible reversal.”
Y/N sighed heavily and put the tablet aside before rising to her feet to join the super soldier. “Steve...Tony and Scott have been working on that thing all year. That I know of, they aren’t any closer to reversing anything or bringing anyone back than we were last year. I don’t want to break a tradition on a possibility and not a certainty.”
The kid from Brooklyn worried his lower lip with his teeth. “I just...if we are able to reverse this or get them back...I want you to be the first person Buck sees if we can get him back by Christmas.”
Y/N had dreamed several times about being back in Bucky’s arms in the five years since the decimation. Her body ached for it, yearned for him. But other people felt the same way. Her father felt that way for her mother, Georgia for Henry. And the whole situation was still a big “if.” Tony and Scott had made some headway, but who knew if it was enough to bring Bucky back? Going to [Y/Hometown/N] was a certainty. Being there for her father and Georgia was absolution.
She reached up and caressed Steve’s face gingerly. “That’s a sweet thought, Stevie...and I do want to be the first person he sees. But you know how being there for my dad and Georgia have helped them heal...helped me heal. I have to go. You know how to reach me. If there’s any development, call me and I’ll race right down.”
Steve gave a nod of understanding, but Y/N could see the pain in his eyes. He really wanted her to be there when Bucky came back...if Bucky came back. “Just be safe okay, and promise you will race right down if I call?”
“What, you don’t think I would any other time?” she teased, poking him in the ribs. “Stevie, I will. I just have to do this, for me, Dad, and Miss Georgia.”
“Just be careful,Y/N. And Merry Christmas early.”
“Merry Christmas, Steve.”
No one could ever say that Y/N wasn’t true to her word. Christmas Eve, she strolled right in to the Late Night Dine Right diner, clad in a bright green knit sweater with a plush puppy protruding out of it that barked when its nose was poked. Georgia was behind the counter pouring coffee for a patron, but she gave Y/N a wide grin and waved. “Have a seat, sweet pea! I’ll have Marcus start your burger!”
“Thanks, Miss Georgia!” Y/N called, spreading out her art supplies in front of her much like she had that first night half a decade ago. She flipped the pages until she got to a sketch she was working on, the jukebox that was perched in the corner of the diner. Her eyes flicked up to get a good look at the jukebox, and she couldn’t help but guffaw at the giant “NO ‘I’LL BE HOME FOR CHRISTMAS’” sign.
Georgia set down a glass of water in front of her and smirked. “Ain’t had anyone try to be slick yet!”
“You’d set them straight anyway, Miss Georgia. I know you.”
The red head just laughed as she strode back behind the counter.
Y/N focused back on her sketch. The outside of the jukebox was easy because it was so large. The intricacies of the buttons and all the other details? That was another task entirely. She lost herself in the crisscross pattern of the speaker portion, making sure each hash mark was perfectly aligned and looked meticulous. It wasn’t until she paused that she heard the beginning of that song that had been banned for that day and that day only.
“I’ll be home for Christmas. You can count on me.”
Y/N’s head snapped up, her blue eyes glaring daggers into the head of the long-haired straggler looming over the jukebox. “Hey, asshole!” she hissed, rising from her seat. “Can’t you fucking read? The sign specifically says-”
Before she could continue her tirade, the stranger rotated on his heel. His lips curled up into a cocky, arrogant smirk at the woman who was chastising him just seconds before. His piercing caramel eyes made her breath hitch and her heart stop.
“Oh my god,” she breathed out incredulously. She almost couldn’t believe who was standing in front of her. Yet there he stood, in all of his super soldier glory. “Bucky?”
“Merry Christmas, doll.”
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harrymoots · 6 years
Text
Unexpected.
The soft hum and vibrations of powerfully evocative lyrics and drums crept through the pale sarcoline wall behind him. That is what pulls him out of his intense strenuous song writing. For the third consecutive time this week he listens as his next door neighbor plays this melodic tune.
Shoving his red cased mini ipad aside on the couch, Harry reaches for his phone in front of him that lays upon his living room centered table. Unlocking the device, the app ‘Shazam’ was already displayed across his screen.
Harry was anxiously prepared for this moment, as dramatic as it sounds. He had this song infused in his mind since Sunday night and it’s been eating away at him to know who’s angelic voice seeps through his neighbors speakers on this unwelcoming cold Tuesday evening. Thumbing at his screen, Harry listens as the tune continues to roam through his living room and awaits as the app tries to obtain the noise as well.
Not being close enough to the sound, the irritated musician groans at the app. Pushing up from the couch below, he stands and walks around to the side of the couch to press his phone against the wall to get a better listen for his phone. Again. Not close enough.
“It’s not even that far.”, he mumbles to himself as he raises his devices higher over his head in hopes to make it hear the song better. “Maybe if I just...” Again. Not close enough.
Still reaching, on the very top of his sock covered toes, he chuckles to himself. If anyone were to see him at this very moment, body pressed against his living room wall right hand straight in the air trying to get a listen of a song he couldn’t get his mind off of, they would think he was crazy.
Harry starts to grow a little disappointed as the song continues to play, closely coming to an end, and soon enough the song altogether comes to an abrupt stop, leaving him in an echoed silence. Standing there frozen, still facing the wall, he groans for the second time this evening. Without thinking he bangs his head against the wall out of frustration causing a loud thud to consume the silence surrounding him. He just really wanted to find out what the name of that stupidly good song was so he can live in peace god damnit!
With sluggish shoulders and a heavy sigh, he made his four step journey back to the couch, throwing himself face down face pressed against the cushions. A few moments pass before an imaginary light bulb suddenly appears above him. Why hadn’t he thought of just knocking on his neighbors door himself and asking them what the title of his new favorite song was? Harry thought he was very good with people. Especially when it came to first impressions, he likes to think he can charm the people he meets with his wholesome kindness and piercing green eyes. His hopes in charming his way into letting his unknown neighbor gift him with the beautiful melody becoming his main goal tonight.
Jumping off the couch, determination written all across his face and ready to acquire his distractive treasure, Harry makes his way towards the door. Strong thuds sound as he starts his way down the mint condition bright hallway, with only just a good fifteen feet between his comfy abode and his destination.
Moving into his basement apartment, located in Douglas County, Colorado, was easily the best decision he’s made in a very long time. Peace and quiet was something Harry always considered a top priority. It’s where he works his best, but sometimes he likes to admit it’s only because of the Tasty House down the road from him.
Harry takes his final steps that leads him to stand in front of a crimson red door, decorated with a beautiful and rather sparkly christmas wreath. The sight brought a small smile to form on his face, already known to the fact that this person has been infected with the christmas spirit and joy that it brings. Lifting his arm to begin his admission, Harry clears his throat in preparation to speak in case his sixteen year old voice wants to make an appearance again.
After a few seconds of silence a voice, of a female he thinks, calls out from somewhere deep within the strangers home.
“Come in!”
Eyebrows drawing inwards, Harry crosses his arms in front of his chest and continues to stare at the door.
‘Is this person crazy? Come in? Why would this person just yell ‘come in’ at anyone that knocks?’, he thinks.
He won’t just walk into a persons home without a proper entrance and greeting, so Harry remains stubbornly standing in the same spot.
“I said, come in!”, the voice calls out again a little louder than the first time. Footsteps, he hears, progress louder towards him from the persons apartment and suddenly the door flys open revealing a brunette female, as he was in fact correct. She stands there, bare feet with an apron covering most of the front of her body, underneath that a solid black v neck. As Harry continues to observe the girl standing before him, with no shame whatsoever, he notices her long and toned thighs and calf’s that seem to go on forever but stop just below where her apron also ends and her very short shorts begin.
“Are you just going to stand there and stare?”, now that he could hear her voice more clearly, sounds that could be explained as red velvet cake and cherry blossom trees engulfed his ears all at once. His eyes wondered still, finally moving to her face and his knees nearly buckled at the color of her eyes. Two vibrant bright green eyes that he could have sworn only belonged to him, stared back at him. They were mesmerizing.
“Um, H-Hi..”, encased by her beauty, harry stuttered the words emitted from him. Harry felt as if everything around him seemed to stop and the only thing that was moving was his pounding heart that he was sure the girl in front of him could hear as well. Clearing his throat to speak properly, his raspy voice filled the tense silence. “M-My name is Harry.”
“I know. I’m Stella”, she appointed narrowing her eyes at the breathtaking pop star. Not just a minute ago, minding her own business, she had been waiting for her oven to finish baking the fresh batch of home-made banana bread muffins. Now, she’s standing in front of her neighbor, the Harry Styles. An artist. An icon. A music genius. Stella knew for a good while who accompanied the residence beside hers. She has imagined many times how her first time meeting him would play out, but this caught her off guard. What also caught her off guard were his wandering eyes. He was definitely checking her out. “Eyes up here buddy.”
Harry’s eyes shot up towards her eyes once again, cheeks starting to stain red and grow warm. “No!”, he paused figuring out how he would explain himself checking out his next door neighbor. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to- I mean you’re very pretty, like who wouldn’t- that’s not what i meant. Oh my god!” Harry began to grow nervous under her heavy piercing stare, now avoiding any eye contact to avoid further embarrassment.
Stella giggled at the stumbling mess in front of her and Harry swears he could listen to that sound all damn day. His objective for the night almost entirely leaving his mind, Harry speaks before anything else is said unintentionally. This really shouldn’t be so hard for him.
“I wanted to ask you..”, Harry paused searching his brain for the right words to stay. He didn’t want to tell her he was eavesdropping and come off as some stalking creep. “...but you don’t have to tell me!” harry quickly interjected.
“Ask me...?”, Stella asked after a brief pause of silence.
“The name of that s-song you were playing? I heard it.”, Harry chuckled, scratching the back of his head. “I guess we have really thin walls.... Anyway, I really liked it, but I don’t know who sings it and its been stuck in my head for a while. So I came here to uh-“
“Do you want to come inside?”, the green eyed goddess interrupted him mid ramble, Stella’s question catching both of them off guard. “I mean- Yeah I can show you the song. I have it on still on my phone screen, but I made muffins!”, the eagerness of the last few words drew an amused smile on Harry’s face. “-Or I can just only show you the song. I’m not even sure if you like muffins- banana bread muffins actually. There really good though! Like insanely good.”
Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, Stella’s cheeks feel warm as she realizes that she as well caught herself rambling nonsense. Did she really just offer Harry Styles muffins? Like he would ever want to eat a strangers baked goods.
Harry’s face lit up at the mention of her making muffins, now noticing the whiff of banana and a hint of some type of nut coming from her home behind her. “I would love to! Have a muffin, of course if you don’t mind.”
Both adults mindlessly forgetting the fact that he only really came here to ask for the name of a song, Stella shuffled a few steps aside to let Harry in. Since they do live in apartments, the design of her place matched Harrys identically, apart from the furniture creating a different vibe. Her home felt very welcoming and also very warm. In Harry’s living room you could probably eat a frozen popsicle and not have it melt, but he likes it that way. Shutting the door behind them, Stella led them towards her kitchen, passing by her living room and catching a glance at the heavy duty looking stereo set up. ‘That’s were the music came from.’, Harry thought.
As if she read his mind, Stella commented, “That stereo you see there? That’s how you heard the music. It gets pretty fucking loud when you want it to.” The way the profanity dropped from her plushy heart shaped lips made him start to sweat. How can one swear and make it seem so hot?
As they settled in the kitchen, both of them on either side of her kitchen island facing each other, Harry inadvertently begin to stare at the beautiful woman in front of him again. He could examine her better in this lighting. Now noticing the two medium space buns on top of her head, how could anyone look cuter? “Would you like anything to drink?” Yeah, you.
Harry eyes focused on nowhere but her rosy full lips as she spoke her harmless words, but the thoughts clouding his mind were not so innocent if she could ever hear them. “Some water would be nice, thank you.” Harry’s throat suddenly becoming drier than ever before while Stella turns around to begin preparing him the glass of water.
Watching her every move, Harry pondered. From a different point of view, someone would think that these two people were absolutely crazy. Why would a girl invite some random boy into her home for muffins? And why would some random boy walk into a girls home without knowing her upbringings. Although she did claim to know who he is, Harry thought it was a bit strange that she was quick to invite him into her home. Then again, he did agree without hesitation.
Setting the glass of ice cold water in front of him, Stella watched as he lifted the glass to his mouth and began drinking. It was her turn to observe the man sitting in front of her. He had on a grey oversized hoodie that matched along with his grey sweat shorts. Stella couldn’t remember if he had any shoes on when she invited him in. Harry Styles looked so much more beautiful in person. No argument necessary. He just radiates this natural aroma of wonderful that she can’t explain and right now she feels as if this is definitely all a dream and she’ll wake up in about five seconds.
“Do you live here alone?”, Harry wanted to start a conversation and he thought that was an appropriate question to ask.
“Yes, I do. I like living alone...”, pausing for a second to think, she continues. “I like having my peace and quiet when i’m home.” Well would you look at that? Harry was staring to like this girl the more she opened her mouth and moved her lips.
Especially when she moved her lips.
“Do you live alone?”, Stella asked backfiring his question, a small smile forming on her lips.
It took a moment for him to speak his answer. “I do actually. Love my alone time as well.”, he grinned.
As their conversation sustained, Harry progressively came to know the most eccentric facts about the brunette beauty. Like how every morning when she wakes up she has to scissor her fingers together so she doesn’t fall back to sleep. She also has a German Shepard, Daisy, named after the time when Stella found her in a ditch and proceeded to vomit daisy’s on Stella’s shirt. And she only wears black ankle length socks. Don’t even ask how those topics came about.
“-and so I had to put black tape to cover them up and let me tell how much of a nightmare it was to take them-“, as Harry was in the middle of telling a story about the time he dressed up as Miley Cyrus for halloween, Stella cut him off remembering exactly what he came here for before indulging in each others life stories.
“Unravel me.”
Harry chocked on a ball of air that he magically swallowed. “What?”
“I said-“
“I know what you said.” Did she want Harry to have sex with her? “What do you mean unravel you? I’m not sure-“
“That’s the name of the song, Harry!”, his name rolling off of her tongue was now his favorite sound ever. “The song you heard me playing on my speakers earlier. We totally forgot about that.”, she laughed. Of course, that’s what she meant. Did he actually think she would want to sleep with him? He had to get his mind out of the gutter.
“Oh! Yeah, thank you for that, I uh.... yeah I forgot- we forgot.”
“The artist..”, Stella continues. “Her name is Sabrina Claudio, she’s amazing! Her voice is so soothing and soft, I sometimes put her music on just to fall asleep.... Now that I say that out loud, it sounds a little strange-“
Harry wishes he could sit with her longer and hear Stella ramble on and on about the music and artists she loves out of her pretty rosy lips, but a sudden loud popping sound goes off behind her startling the both of them. Stella whips around and all too fast the oven that had been baking the homemade muffins start spewing out colossal balls of black thick smoke, causing the smoke alarm to sound loudly. Giant flames now growing where the muffins on the tray used to lay.
“MY MUFFINS!”, Stella runs towards the direction of her cabinets but a strong arm reaches and wraps around her hips. Hoisted up into the air by no other than Harry Styles himself, Stella screeches in surprise. “Harry?! What are you doing?! Let me down!”
“We have to run! There’s a fire Stella!” Harry almost manages to run out of the room completely caring the girl in his arms, but she somehow slithers her way out of his grip. Running back towards her kitchen cabinets, Stella pulls out a fire extinguisher from under the sink and begins to spray the giant flames. Harry stands there flabbergasted, staring as Stella puts out the last bit of fire in the sweltering oven. Quickly reaching to switch it off carefully not tying to burn herself, she sets down the fire extinguisher and rushes over to Harry.
“Are you okay?”, she places a hand on his shoulder, searching his face for any signs of sudden maim. Harry looks at the girl as if she grew a second head. What does she mean ‘is he okay?’ He should be the one asking her that question.
“You just played superhero and took down a huge fire! Your asking if i’m okay?”, he accused, voice slightly a little loud. “Who even are you?”
Stella laughed at that question. Suddenly aware of the thick smoke lingering close to the ceiling, she quickly moves around the kitchen opening windows. “I should try and get rid of all this smoke before it stains my walls!”
“Let me help you.”
Both bodies shuffled around the apartment opening all the windows they spotted, when all of a sudden there’s a strong pounding on the door that rattled the knob and soon after another pounding that sounds across the hall. “EVERYONE PLEASE EVACUATE IMMEDIATELY! THE FIRE DEPARTMENT IS ON THE WAY! EVERYONE PLEASE EVACUATE NOW!”
Stella and Harry both turn to look at each other from across the living room. “Is that Micheal?”, Harry asks.
“That’s Micheal.”, Stella confirms easily picturing their landlord screaming like a banshee as he always does.
Making her way towards the door, harry following closely behind, a frown formed on her face and she walked with her shoulders sluggish. Harry took notice and didn’t hesitate to place a hand on her shoulder making her turn towards him. “What’s wrong?”
Stella took in a deep sigh before she spoke. “I was really looking forward to having you try my muffins.”, she admitted with an adorable pout. Harry pushed the dirty end of that sentence to the back of his mind to generate a response for her. “Well, i’m sure those muffins would have been amazing. But look at the bright side, you stopped the fire before it could have gotten any bigger and saved a whole building from burning down.” Harry said the next statement as he looked in her eyes. “My true Super Woman.”
Stella’s eyes widened as she took his words in, while a wave of heat flashed her cheeks. “Oh, stop it.”, she looked down bashfully, causing harry to smirk widely. They made their way down the hallway towards the staircase, finally ending up in the freezing cold thirty feet away from the building alongside the buildings exhausted inhabitants.
The blaring fire trucks propelled up the road, soon stopping in front of the brick building. Everyone watched as the fire fighters one by one piled out of red trucks and began to toil away. One fire fighter in particular grabbed Stella’s attention, speaking out into the air particularly to no one. “Anyone smell banana muffins, or is it just me?”
Harry and Stella found each other’s eyes once again, trying to suppress each others laughter, as some of the other neighbors looked at them suspiciously.
Even though the night did end up a disaster in some aspects, Harry thought contently as it didn’t matter because he ultimately found out the name of the beautiful song from his beautiful next door neighbor.
~
-My first piece of writing! Ever! Let me know what you think.
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penmansparadise · 7 years
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Billy Hargrove Imagine Smut Requested- Do You Mind If I Join?
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Well Happy Holidays and Merry Christmas to my followers that celebrate this time of year!  For those of you who don’t, I’m still sending happy and positive vibes your way because everyone deserves to be happy!  Anyway, I’m sorry I’ve been like MIA.  I’m back now though and better than ever!  Lol alright, so this was a request from my Wattpad and I hope you all enjoy it.  I’ll be writing the other requests and posting them soon! xx. 
Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Reader
Warnings: Mild language and smut
*Alright, here I go again with this message, unprotected sex is a definite no no!! I didn’t mention any form of birth control (i.e. condoms or the pill), but please know that it is not because I advocate unprotected sex.  The lack of mention is solely to keep the flow of writing.  Please always use some form of protection!*
“Oh my gosh,” Nancy began putting her hands to her mouth, “that’s the one.”  You looked over the silky black dress hanging loosely over your body.  “I don’t know,” you said scrunching your nose, “I feel a lot more comfortable in my jeans and T-Shirt.”  Nancy rolled her eyes, “Y/N, he’s taking you on a date.  Your normal clothes just won’t do.”  She walked up to you and put her hands on your shoulders, “The dress looks great on you.  If he doesn’t like it then he’s crazy.”  You dropped your eyes with a light chuckle before looking back up to Nancy.  “Alright, fine.”  You said sending a wide grin onto Nancy’s face.  She clapped her hands, “Perfect!  Now sit down so I can do your hair and makeup.”  You shook your head before taking a seat allowing Nancy to begin.  
An hour and fifteen minutes later you were standing in front of your mirror again fully done up.  Your hair was up in a loose curly bun that allowed a couple of strands to fall onto your shoulders; and your angular face was accented by the natural makeup Nancy had applied.  “Perfect.” Nancy said giving you a reassuring smile just as a loud knock came from your front door.  Nancy’s eyes widened as she began to gather all of her things, “That must be him!  You go ahead and I’ll make sure I lock the door when I leave.  Don’t worry I’ll wait until you two are down the street.”  You laughed, “Thanks Nancy.  I’ll let you know how it goes tonight.”  Nancy nodded and quickly waved you out of your bedroom. As you descended the stairs, your heart began to beat faster and faster.  When you opened the door, a wide smile spread across your lips.  Standing in front of you was your handsome boyfriend of 5 months, Billy Hargrove.  You stared at him for a moment and he did the same to you.  Your eyes traveled over his tight jeans to his red shirt with the top two buttons casually undone.  His black leather jacket hung over his shoulders and his hair was a wave of curls.  When your eyes finally met his, you bit your lip.  “You clean up nicely.” You said with a smirk. He chuckled, “Thanks.  You’re not too bad yourself.”  The two of you shared a laugh before Billy stuck his hand out to you. “Are you ready for our date?”  He asked giving you a wink.  You took his hand and shut the door behind you, “Of course I’m ready.” He sent you a smile before leading you to his Camaro where you got into the passenger side and him into the driver side.  The car gave a loud roar before Billy took off down your road.
“Shoot to Thrill” by AC/DC was playing on the radio as Billy drove towards your mysterious destination.  You and him sang along obnoxiously as Hawkins passed by in a blur.  When you were just outside of Hawkins, he pulled into a parking spot in front of a restaurant.  Billy took the key out of the ignition and turned to you.  “We’re here.” He said with a nervous smile.  You chuckled, “Don’t be nervous Billy.  This night is going to be great.”  He shut his eyes for a moment and you could see the stress leaving his body. When he reopened them, you gave him a reassuring smile.  “Are you ready to go inside?” You asked.  He nodded before opening his door and going to open yours.  The two of you walked inside hand-in-hand and soon were sitting across from one another at a table.  A tall and lanky boy made his way to your table.  He smiled, “Hello, my name is Mark and I’ll be your waiter for the evening.  Can I get you anything to drink?”  Billy used his hand and motioned for you to order first.  “I’ll have a sweet tea please.” You said to the boy.  He nodded before Billy ordered his drink. “And I’ll have a Coke.” He said.  As the boy walked away you looked around.  “This is a really nice restaurant Billy.” You said taking in your surroundings.  Billy gave you a small smile, “Only the best for you.”  A bright blush crept onto your cheeks just as Mark came back to your table.  “Here is your Coke sir and a sweet tea for you ma’am.” He said as he began placing the cups onto the table.  He put Billy’s Coke down, but, as he bent to set your tea down, the cup slipped.  The cold liquid spilt onto you before you could move away.  A small sigh fell from your lips as you stared down at your soaked dress.  Billy quickly stood up, “What the hell man!?”  Mark took a step back and ran his hands through his hair, “I-I’m so sorry ma’am.  Let me go get some napkins.”  You looked up and mustered the most believable smile you could.  “It’s alright.  Don’t worry about it.  We’ll just head out.”  You said slowly standing up.  The sticky liquid fell from your lap as you stood and dripped from your dress as you exited the building.
The entire drive back to your house was filled with Billy’s angry complaining. “I cannot believe that happened. I mean, how hard is it to set a damn glass on a table?  He got one down and then botched the second one?  He had one job and he fucked it up!”  He shouted as he sped through Hawkins.  You sat frigid in the passenger seat, “Billy, it was an accident.  Those things happen, you know?  I’m sure the glass just slipped out of his grip.  It’s fine.”  Billy shook his head in aggravation, but didn’t reply.  The silent drive was quick and soon you were unlocking your front door. You stepped inside and let Billy follow before shutting the door behind you.  “Okay,” you said as you began to head to your room, “I’m going to take a shower. You can wait in my room if you want.” Billy walked closely behind you as the two of you entered your bedroom.  Without even looking to see where Billy planted himself, you went the bathroom and started the shower.  “I’ll be right across the hall if you need anything.”  You shouted before shutting the door.  The hot water quickly began to steam up the shower and fog the mirror.  You slid the wet cloth off your body and let it fall into a heap at your feet.  A small shiver ran down your spine as the warm air blanketed your cold skin.  You pulled the shower curtain back, but, before you could get in, the bathroom door opened.  Your head quickly turned to find Billy’s tall figure staring at you through the steam.  He walked inside and shut the door behind him.  He slowly made his way closer to you until he was in full view.  You stood, frozen and completely exposed, in front of him. His eyes slowly and carefully traveled the entire length of your body.  From your brightly painted toenails to your messy hair falling around your shoulders. Your breathing began to quicken as he took one step closer and placed one hand on your bare waist.  “I got lonely sitting in your room.” He said seductively.  His eyes flickered from your lips to your eyes a couple of times.  You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out.  His hand crawled up the side of your torso before it planted itself on the side of your face.  “Do you mind if I join you?” He asked barely above a whisper.  You bit your bottom lip trying to control your rapid heartbeat, but failing miserably.  “Uh, I, um, I, uh, no.” You stuttered out.  A devious, yet sexy, smirk crawled onto Billy’s face before he aggressively pulled you into a kiss.  His lips moved hungrily against yours as his hands moved to grab your ass. Your lips separated slightly allowing him to slip his tongue into your mouth.  You shut your eyes and melted into him as you moaned into the kiss. His hands slid over your bare skin as yours tugged at his shirt.  “Billy,” you said between kisses, “this has to go.”  He pulled away long enough to swiftly rip his shirt from his body before reattaching your lips to his.  The feeling of his warm skin against yours sent a tingly sensation over your body.  With your lips still wrestling with his, your hands moved to his jeans.  You skillfully unbuttoned his pants before shoving them down to his feet.  Billy kicked off his boots and slipped off his socks before stepping out of his jeans.  Your eyes widened a little at the sight of his erection.  He looked at you through hooded eyes before tackling your lips with his again.  You could feel his member pressing against you as he held you close to him.  A small moan fell from your lips as he grabbed your ass and scooped you up.  You quickly wrapped your legs around his waist as he carried you into the shower. The hot water hit your skin like tiny droplets of fire as Billy attached his lips to your neck.  You threw your head back as his tongue began to draw circles on your skin.  “Oh Billy.” You moaned out.  He began to trail kisses down your collar until his lips took one of your nipples into his mouth.  You took in a quick breath at the pleasurable sensation.  He let his mouth do all the work as you felt one of his fingers slowly slid into you.  A long moan escaped you as he began to pump it in and out.  “Fuck yes Billy.”  You groaned as you tugged on his wet hair.  He slid in another finger as he began to suck on your other nipple.  Steam filled the entire bathroom making you feel as if you were dreaming.  His fingers pumped at an agonizingly slow pace in and out of you as he sucked on your nipple.  You could feel yourself getting wetter and closer with each curl of his fingers.  Water splashed onto your face as you leaned back with satisfaction.  “Oh God Billy, I think I’m gonna cum.” You moaned with closed eyes.  Just as you were about to unravel, Billy quickly removed his fingers and let your tit fall from his mouth.  You were about to protest when he reconnected his lips with yours and pushed you against the wall.  You tightened your legs around his waist as you moaned into the kiss.  “Billy, please don’t keep me waiting.”  You said breathlessly between kisses.  He moved his lips to your neck again and began to nibble.  “Don’t worry baby, I won’t.”  He said as he lifted you up slightly.  You felt his member begging for entrance before you slid yourself down onto him. A groan fell from Billy’s lips as he let his head fall into the crook of your neck again.  His hands gripped tightly onto your ass and your hands clung onto his broad shoulders.  You began to bounce up and down with his help.  Loud moans and slapping skin began to mix with the sound of splashing water. Your head leaned back against the cold wall as his lips reconnected with your nipple.  “Yes Billy!” You shouted out in pleasure.  He kissed up your chest until his head was resting in the crook of your neck again.  You could hear his heavy breathing and tiny groans.  Your legs tightened around his waist pulling him deeper into you.  “Fuck baby.  Keep going I’m so damn close.” He moaned into your ear.  You began to bounce faster as you felt your climax growing deep inside your stomach.  “Oh Billy, I’m close!”  You shouted as your bounces got sloppier and sloppier.  Your nails dug deeply into Billy’s shoulders, “I’m gonna cum Billy!” You let out a long and loud moan as your walls tightened around his member.  The feeling and sound of you unraveling in his arms sent Billy to his climax.  His hands gripped onto your ass as he groaned loudly into your shoulder.  He pulled himself out of you before finally placing your feet back on the floor.  The two of you stood under the spitting shower head for another moment before deciding to get out.  
Steam hung low in the room as you stepped out of the shower and wrapped yourself in a towel.  Billy followed you to your room before sitting on the edge of your bed.  “Can we just lay here for a second?” He asked staring at your toweled figure.  You stared at him before nodding with a smile.  Billy playfully pulled you onto the bed earning a giggle from you.  The two of you crawled under the blankets and tossed the towels onto the floor.  Your heart jumped at the feeling of his soft skin under yours again.  He pulled you closer to him as you snuggled into his side with a smile.  He planted a soft kiss on your forehead, “I guess you were right, tonight was great.” You chuckled and looked up to him, “I told you.”  He held your gaze for a moment before placing a soft and sensual kiss onto your lips.  “I guess I should have listened.”  He said softly.  You sent him a wink, “Next time you will.”  He smiled to himself before placing a sweet kiss onto your lips and pulling you closer.  There was definitely going to be a next time.          
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benefits1986 · 4 years
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dragon eggs, easter eggs
not a fan of traditions as i live for memories and underrated spaces but i have a thing for easter. i like it better than christmas if i were to choose. easter mornings take me back to my mom’s “powering through her flaws” moments. apart from math, my mother can’t even come up with a decent drawing. i think i got my inability to draw a straight line using a ruler and even a triangle from her. she even has poor taste in color matching; but i truly appreciate her effort especially when it comes dressing up easter eggs. 
there’s a phase where she bought plastic eggs and placed candies inside. again, nothing fancy, but whenever there’s more budget, kids smile when they see kisses instead of the “tagpipiso” candies. 
then, she realized that while the plastic easter eggs are so convenient, real eggs go beyond the usual. when we moved to a community that has a bronx vibe as opposed to the gated village i grew up in, hardboiled eggs meant a full meal for the kids who scour for eggs. 
again, my mom is not exactly a spot on chef. HAH. so, one egg tray would yield about five cracked eggs. at first she tried to food color, then shifted to watercolor. she tried so hard and failed because her art skills are mediocre.
i rarely join these “day before” easter duties because i abhor her skills, and i abhor her tries. however, i can’t help but be in awe of her determination as she helplessly power through. 
whenever i join this tradition, i grumpily do so because part of me resented her because childhood memories of easter meant trying not to soil my sunday dress, living up to the socks adorned with laces and ribbons that brought serious itch and uneasiness to the kid who’d want to run free and wear jumper all the time. easter meant having to make sure i watch over my brother who has been battling with meningitis since i was three years old --trust me, i remember some legit “ate” sacrifices like giving up my easter eggs because my brother was throwing yet another “production level” tantrum. easter meant spending time inside the church in my pristine dress and trying my best to keep still even when i can not ---and this is not because i was a basic kid. i just don’t like sitting still in a church because i solemnly believe that the statues of the saints pierce right through me. this was brought about by a series of nightmares because of being forced to watch blood oozing from the “penitensiya” tradition in my dad’s hometown. easter meant hearing my mom and dad argue about money because enrollment is just around the corner. easter meant so many things that are far from what it is supposed to stand for ---new beginnings. 
so when my mom got seriously sick, this easter egg tradition is one of the very few ones that she was able to keep alive. just in case you don’t know, catholic traditions especially those leading to easter take so much physical effort. my mom was battling GBS that made her stay home because of very limited movement.
looking back, easter to my mom meant hope and having validation that she can still be part of something outside her normal. 
so, yes. i secretly sneak more eggs so that her margin of error is greater. 
yes. i secretly research about how she can boil perfect eggs without having to explain that the eggs crack at times because she wanted to be sure that each egg is well cooked and won’t cause an upset tummy to the kids who’d eat them. 
yes. i buy fresh plastic so she can package the egg and indulge to her undiagnosed OCD. she’s a germaphobe in her own right at a time when that term was still in its infancy. 
yes. i bite my lip and swallow hard every time she dropped her “well decorated” handcrafted easter eggs because of her sickness and not because of her signature clumsiness. 
yes. easters ring bitter bells but i managed to turn them to moments where i learned to accept that the super human mom i looked up to is a very flawed human, too. 
my family is not big on words. hugs and kisses are luxuries like vacations --pretty much non-existent in our vocabulary. i guess that’s why i turned to writing so i can think out loud without having to speak up, and speak out. i guess that’s also the reason why i later turned to taking photos because i chase emotions that i’m not exactly attuned with; but always intrigued about. 
so... going back to easters. 
mother dragon’s easter eggs ended when she expired. i vividly remember that the day before the first easter i was not with her, i teared up and moved my depressed ass off the bed and got hold of a tray filled with, you guessed it, fresh eggs. 
made sure that i get eggs that won’t break easily and those that have a “rough” feel. youtube says that these eggs are certified fresh. (another segue: today, i learned though that most commercial eggs in the philippines are laid by hens without having to fuck their cocks. FUCK. MIND BLOWN. GMO UNITED, but i still love eggs. LOL.) 
in between breaking down and laughing my head off, i tried to get perfectly boiled eggs. thankfully, i managed to get 3 cracked ones --not really bad for a first timer, right? i also gathered my art stuff and adorned the eggs with minimalist designs. one had a face and even had a legit lace around her face. i realized i always try to outstage my mom even when she’s obviously not able to get even with me. 
i am still a sucker for my mom’s very rare approval.
but, this time around though, easter pains turned to a time i can be with her even for a while. there’s something so magical in the mundane way of prepping those eggs for kids i don’t give a fuck for to be honest. BUT, at the same time, i sincerely wish that the kids who’d get them would smile and have a fill of their first meal or might be their only meal for any given easter sunday. 
a few easters after, i found myself back to my dad’s hometown. and guess what, i hosted a really wild easter egg hunt for the first and second generation. reason? sheer boredom and i still wanted to upstage my mom yet again. my easter eggs are miles apart from my mom’s; but, i have to say that her pure intention made me see easter mornings in a different light. 
easter became part of my tradition without me knowing it. :D LUH. happy now, mom? i feel the smirk and the slight head shake from wherever you are in. fuck me. but, yes. 
easter to me these days mean second chances after fucking up so hard, after falling badly, after being beyond broken. LUHHH. 
easter means allowing that kid’s bruised ego and spirit to heal and help others heal, too, in whatever tiny or big way. 
easter in the time of this lockdown though elevated my senses. 
easter in the time of this lockdown has allowed me to face my issues better and easier.
easter in the time of this lockdown has made me see what matters most to me. 
easter in the time of this lockdown has inspired me to be more intentional even when it’s easier to shut emotions down and not give a fuck. 
while there is no easter egg project this 2020, i say that easter is like a second new year. and i am really, really excited to see how far i’ve gone and how far i’d be able to go with this old normal meets new normal once #thisquarantineisover. 
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