#lock screen mariah carey

[sleepingghostt]

Wip

“Hey Kagami! Wanna shoot some!”

The first time Taiga met Tyler, he thought the guy was an annoying little shit. A mix of Kise and that adhd kid Hayama from Rakuzan and he was instantly a pain in the redhead’s ass. He was fun to play with though, not as good as Daiki but some of his moves were pretty remarkable.

The problem was, he never left Taiga alone, especially on the court…no matter which court he went to (not that there were too many courts in his neighborhood to choose from). It was getting ridiculous but dammit, he was too nice to deny the guy some one-on-ones.

“You like banana milk?”

Taiga looked up from his foot long sub and shook his head. He was currently sitting on a bench near one of his favorite courts in California, basketball waiting patiently next to him, a half empty bottle of banana milk on his other side, threatening to fall with one accidental jerk of his knee.

Taiga hated banana milk, but he hadn’t seen Dai, face to face in a month. He was missing him severely these days.

“Huh? Ah, no.” he took his headphones off and spared the bottle a meaningful glance. “It just reminds me of Japan...”

“Cool... So are you ready to play or what?” Tyler was definitely dressed for it. Black basketball shorts and a skin tight tank, his buff muscles prominent under the thin material.

He was on the shorter side, between Kise and Kuroko, skin pale and white with no trace of tan, blonde hair, curly and short. He wasn’t bad looking; crystal blue eyes and a tiny array of freckles on his nose but Taiga wasn’t interested.

“Yeah, just let me finish this first.”

Once his sandwich was devoured, banana milk waiting safely beside it, they started playing.

—

Tyler was fast. So fast, Taiga was out of breath by the end of it. He almost couldn’t keep up. Almost. He still dominated the court and wiped the floor with the twerp’s ass but the fucker almost gave him a run for his money.

“God dammit...you sure you’re not…one of those…annoying fruit loops?”

“Fruit loops?” Tyler laughed and shook his head as Taiga collapsed on the grass and took a big chug of water. “Hell nah. But I am fruity.” He winked and the redhead chuckled, then made a face as the blonde boy bent down to grab his bottle, making a show of waving his ass teasingly in the air. “You referring to your miracle friends?”

“Yeah.” In the little time they’d known each other, Taiga hadn’t told Tyler his whole life story. Only bits and pieces, the Generation of damn Miracles being one them. He wasn’t surprised their household name hadn’t made it back to the states which kinda sucked but it gave Taiga the opportunity to brag about Daiki whenever he had the chance, to pretty much whoever would listen.

“Those little self destructive fucks.” His phone buzzed then and Taiga rolled his eyes and bit back a smile as he glanced down at the notification.

princess💙: no asshole send pic of kate upton

i heard she has the biggest rack

-

Speak of the devil.

Kagz🍔: gonna cost u

-

princess💙: obv

just send it

no mariah carey crap

-

Kagz🍔: bullshit

just admit u have a thing for milfs

-

princess💙: I FUCKING DON’T

Chuckling, Taiga put his phone down and stretched his sore muscles. He’d do it later.

“Hey, is that your boyfriend?”

Tyler was staring down at his phone, the screen lit up with another notification. Daiki was pouting up at them from his lock screen, face soft with sleep, dried drool on the corner or his mouth, Taiga’s favorite sight in the early hours of the morning.

“Uh, yeah.” Blushing, Taiga tried to grab it but Tyler was quick to snatch it and hold it closer so he could see.

“Oh my god, he’s a total trophy wife!”

“Ughh. Don’t give him that title. He doesn’t deserve that shit.” Despite his jabs, he smiled bigger, pride filling his chest. He loved when people commented on Daiki’s looks. As long as they didn’t try anything.

“He does though! It’s a total beauty and the beast type of relationship going on. I see you Shrek.”

Taiga looked at him so fast, his neck cracked. “Oi! Don’t fucking call me that! You wanna die?” He raised his fist to strike but Tyler dodged him with a laugh and a playful shove.

“Just let me decorate my coffin first. If I’m going down, I’m going in style.”

“Yeah with my fist up your fucking ass.” Completely missing the severity of his own statement, Taiga checked the time and stretched, throwing an arm over his head. “Come on. Let’s keep playing.”

[wolferess]

12th Dec - 🅳ecorating 🆆ith 🆃he 🅱︎oys

Multi!BNHA X Reader

Izuku Midoriya

“Izuku can you hang this on the tree”

You handed him another ornament to go on the tree, music playing softly in the background since it is tradition to listen to Christmas songs to feel the holiday cheer as you decorated around the house..

Humming to a Mariah Carey song as you decorated the reets that hung on the walls by the living room entrance. Izuku secretly comes up behind you and slides his scarred arms around your waist as he sways you both to the song ‘All I Want For Christmas Is You’.

Resting your head on his shoulder, smiling at his sweet gesture.

Katsuki Bakugou

“Ugh just five more minutes Katsuki”

“No get up”

He has you two cleaning for half the day since seven in the morning without a single break, it was his idea to clean down the whole house. Your back aches for a break, your legs are like jelly, arms are like noodles. You weren’t accustomed to cleaning the house for such a long period.

Moving one item to another and then placing it back into place, “Come on Katsuki, if you really love me we’ll take another five minutes” putting him in a tight spot he glared before giving in shouting a ‘fine’ before stomping off to the kitchen and grabbing you both a glass of water before sitting next to you on the couch.

“Here, take it,'' he handed shoved the cup to your face replying “Thank you love” and gulping the water as if you hadn’t drunk in days. Removing the lip of the cup from your mouth saying ‘Aaah” in a satisfied tone and resting your head on his lap unexpectedly caused him to jump but relaxed once he saw what you were doing.

Massaging his hand into your scalp as his other hand works on his phone not stopping, his action causes you to fall asleep unto his lap unaware of him. “Hey dumba-!” seeing you peacefully sleep in his lap. His lips couldn't help but curve by how cute you look, snapping a picture to put on his lock screen.

It wouldn’t kill him if he stayed in this position right?

He’ll clean the rest tomorrow.

Shoto Todoroki

A knock was heard at the front door, who could that be? They weren't expecting any guests today, a female voice shouted "I'll get it!" Flattening out her clothes before opening the door she was greeted with a familiar face. "Y/N!!" She rushed into your arms knocking the wind out your lungs, you returned the embrace. Shoto head perked up when he heard your name, why were you here? Were you both supposed to go on a date today? Wasn't That next week? Did you shift the date up?.

It took you to reach his peripheral vision for him to snap out of his head. "Hey babe" walked up to him and planted a kiss inside his burned eye, a way of showing him he doesn't need to be insecure about it as well as saying hi to Natsu with a suck a bag between his lips who only salute in acknowledgement of your presence before planted your bum next to his cushion, between Natsu and Shoto while Fuyumi came out of the kitchen with some treats and drink and set it at the coffee table. " So what brings you here, today Y/n?" She questioned with a gentle smile, "oh well I wanted to check up on you guys, it has been a while" you said sheepishly causing her to snicker.

"I also wanted to discuss if you don't mind me spending the holidays with you", you were nervous to ask since it's kind of a big deal but the reaction you got was quite unexpected  "Oh yes! We'll be delighted to have you here with us, after all you are his first girlfriend" Fuyumi sent a wink your way and you couldn't help but smile being accepted like family despite not being blood related.

Setting up for tomorrow to get living with the decorating the day came, knocking on their door to see a happy Fuyumi hugging you and taking some stuff from your hands to carry indoors and setting them on the floor. You went up to Shoto to hug and kiss him before going back to.your original place, looking to see if any other siblings were coming as well, Natsu came surprisingly as well as Dabi.Sending a smile there way before the second oldest speak, “Alright let's get this christmas under control also I want to thank this lovely lady for taking her time to come an do this with us as well as this will be our first christmas with ALL the family members” she exaggerated on the ‘all’, discussing who dust, who sweeps, who mops and who helps with the decorations.

Sweeps - Shoto, Enji (The rooms are pretty big)

Dust - Dabi

Mop - Natsu

Decorations - - Fuyumi, Y/n

Doing what they were assigned to do, there were a few hiccups but it was done. The theme was blue and white and slight red to represent the family colors, Dabi and Natsu helped decorate high places with garlands, lights and ornament decorating with of course instructions from you and Fuyumi, tying streamers that starts from the garlands that stretch towards the big chandelier in the middle of the living room and we can’t forget the Christmas tree that was in the corner of the living room.. Within five plus hours you guys were done, falling down on and around the couch you all rested while looking at the finished product and it was beautiful.

The blue and white lights that surrounded the room giving it an almost snowfall effect, wreaths that were decorated so lovely, silver glitter poinsettias as well as the different shades blue that decorated every greenery around the room including the tree, ornaments such as santa, snowman, reindeers, angels and candles which were carefully place on the tree so it won’t catch on fire and using dabis’ quirk for the blue flames, it was risky but it was worth it. Today was a success and you couldn’t wait to do the outside of the house, just not today. You're all exhausted but it was really fun and they all can agree just not out loud.

Eijirou Kirishima / Denki Kaminari

Well lets just say with the amount of goofing around you guys barely got work done well you guys did get work done, it just took very, very very long. When you were cleaning the walls he began to wet you with the second cloth, looking at him in shock you took your own and began to whip him with it and that on for a bit befores stopping getting it done correctly. Decorating was no different, after getting him to put up the garlands in places you want it to be he decided to take his time to hand you the ornaments and lights causing you to squint your eyes at him while he just smile at you plopping the decor in your palms before repeating his actions over and over. Swing at him when he arrived and telling him to ‘hurry it up’, the both of you just laughed and continued on with your day decorating.

By the time you guys were done it was seven in the night despite starting eight in the bloody morning, resting on the couch you decided to take a break and continue another time “You little, look how long we took just to do one room” you folded your arms as you twist your body to face his and all you saw was a smug look with droopy eyes signaling how tired he was from putting on all that act. Deciding to watch some Netflix you both just knocked out on the couch, you guys are mostly likely to be sore from the horrible position you guys are in. 

Look out for the next later today.

Have a wonderful night/day

-🐾

[thinlinez]

Thx to my love Cha @chai-hat-tea for the tag challenge xx

This challenge is to share my Lock Screen, the last photo I saved and the last song I listened to!

I don't have Spotify on my phone so I just type it here, the last song I listened to was Mariah Carey- We Belong Together. I listened to it cuz I heard a meme song on Insta reel 😂 shocking!

My lock screen is updated just now just for this challenge 😂 and the pic I saved is of H in his chin length curls era so I can sample this pic for my fics!

I tag my mutuals @marchessa @itsworthitallthistime @ploomsgarden @annamiasworld @unreadablehandle @callouiee @keinessish @footy-met-mussy (Tricia u on break but I still tagging u cuz I'm not leaving u out 😂) to do this 😉

[boricuacherry-blog]

My intention was to keep her safe, but perhaps I have only succeeded in keeping her prisoner. For many years, she's been locked away inside of me - always alone, hidden in plain sight before masses of people. There's significant evidence of her in my early work: often she can be found looking out of windows, dwarfed by a giant frame, barefoot, staring at an empty rope swing swaying from a lone tree against a purple dusk sky. Or else she's two stories up in a brownstone, watching the neighborhood children dancing on the sidewalk below. She's shown up in a school auditorium in OshKosh overalls, holding a ball on the sidelines, waiting and wanting to be chosen. Sometimes she is caught in a rare moment of joy, on a roller coaster or flying by on skates with her hands in the air. Always she lingers, though, as a dull longing just behind my eyes. She's been scared and alone for so long, and yet through all the darkness, she's never lost her light. She has made herself known through my songs - her yearning heard over the airwaves or seen on screens. Millions of people know her, but have never known her. She is little Mariah.

-Mariah Carey

[hansensgirl]

you better not shout, better not cry.

summary. | they know if you’ve been bad or good, so be good for goodness sake.

pairings. | Dark!Sebastian Stan x Reader, Dark!Bucky Barnes x Reader, Dark!Lee Bodecker x Reader, Dark!Charles Blackwood x Reader, Dark!Chris Evans x Reader, Dark!Steve Rogers x Reader, Dark!Ransom Drysdale x Reader, Dark!Andy Barber x Reader.

warnings. | NONCON/DUBCON, gang bang, eight-some, (forced and not forced) drinking, manipulation, coercion, dark themes, crimes, threatening, slight angst, mentions of cheating, age gaps, Daddy kink, Sir kink, power dynamics, boss/employee relationships, face fucking, oral (m receiving), dom/sub, finger sucking, degrading, praise, humiliation, voyeurism, fingering, double penetration, cum marking, facials, anal, unprotected sex, cream-pie kink, slapping, spanking, smoking, choking, hair pulling, manhandling, + more. 18+, DARK FIC.

word count. | 13k.

authors note. | merry christmas/happy holidays! please be wary of the warnings, and have yourself a merry christmas and/or a great day! don’t use my gif without permission, and don’t forget to read and reblog because i worked so hard on this. IF YOU’RE INSPIRED BY THIS FIC OR WANT TO USE A SIMILAR PLOT PLEASE MESSAGE ME FIRST OR ELSE YOU’LL BE BLOCKED. love you all sm! also gonna be submitting this to my bb @mypoisonedvine’s festive holiday challenge! (ty for beta-ing and putting up with me).

Make my wish come true… All I want for Christmas is you…

A group of women erupts in laughter as they point at one of the ugly sweaters that their coworker wears. The man burns up with shame before grumbling off, making you furrow your eyebrows. You stifle a laugh, before grabbing a sugar cookie that you baked yourself. Little red sprinkles fall to the floor as you bite into the treat, the sound drowned out by the others.

The melodious voice of Mariah Carey starts playing and everyone cheers; you included. You quickly shut up, though, realizing how stupid you must look. Standing there by yourself, an elf costume on, stuffing your face full of cookies as you yell.

You find comfort in the numerous Christmas-themed treats — from sugar cookies to Rice Krispies, to cake pops. Your mouth salivates at the sight even though you just had a cookie. Everything is so irresistible… “Merry Christmas Eve!” A cheery voice calls from behind you, and your heart quickens its pace.

“Oh- uh, Merry Christmas Eve to you too, Mr. Barnes.” You stammer in shock, careful to not look up at him. You fiddle your crumb-covered fingers together, a habit that you have yet to lose. “No need to be nervous, doll. Are you enjoying yourself?” He asks, grabbing one of the cookies that are covered in green sprinkles. It’s shaped like a Christmas tree, and it’s one of your favourites.

“Uh, yes, Sir!” You answer quickly and nervously. Undeniably, everyone knows that Mr. Barnes drips with eloquence and dominance. As soon as he walks into the room, everyone either wants to be with him or be him. Everyone vies after him, and he knows that. He knows that, and he just makes it worse and worse and- “Why’re you alone by the snack table, doll?” He asks, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Oh well- I’m not overly friendly with the others- I mean I’m not rude to them! I’m just not close to them, that’s all.” You ramble nervously, wringing your hands. Bucky places a heavy hand on your shoulder and the butterflies in your start fluttering even harder and faster.

You struggle to look him in the eyes, those darned cerulean eyes that make you weak in the knees. “Oh, I’m so sorry about that… Have you been drinking, doll?” He asks you, and you choke on your saliva. “Oh I don’t drink, sorry if I’m being annoying…” You sheepishly apologize, realizing how out of line you must be acting. Truthfully, Mr. Barnes always has that effect on you.

“Uh- I should probably go see if everything is in order.” You say before Mr. Barnes can say anything else to you. “Happy Holidays!” You call out as you speed walk as far away your legs can take you. Three glasses of eggnog have you wobbling slightly but you’re determined to be far away from Mr. Barnes and the others.

In a way, they aren’t really your bosses. They’re just the CEOs and your boss is the head of the HR department. …Perhaps they are your bosses, but you’ve never really talked to them much. Mr. Bodecker’s temper always frightens you, Mr. Blackwood’s stare would always have you shaking, Mr. Barnes’s aura always makes you weak, and then there’s Mr. Stan himself. Everything about him sends numerous emotions through you and others as well.

You lean back against the wall and pull your phone out, sighing with a heavy heart. You’re not sure if it’s the heavy nostalgia of seeing Santa Claus sitting on a throne or the wallpaper on your screen but either one makes you tear up slightly. You already took photos of the party, and you’ve already sent well wishes to your friends, family and coworkers.

You look back up from your phone and try to decide whether or not you should scroll through your camera roll just to look busy to others. Whilst you ponder with your hazy mind, you accidentally lock eyes with Santa Claus. Younger you would’ve freaked out, but older you burns up with embarrassment. Suddenly, his white-gloved hand beckons you to him with a come-hither motion.

You point at yourself just to make sure because only you know how many mistakes you’ve made of thinking that someone was pointing at you. He nods and smiles, but you’re still not sure. Call it paranoia, call it anxiety, but there’s no way in hell that you’re going to make a fool of yourself on Christmas Eve.

You’re still unsure, so you look around and everyone else is off getting wasted in the main hall. Shiny confetti crunches under your flats as you hesitatingly walk over to Santa. He flashes you a smile and maybe it’s the egg nog talking but his pearly whites look awfully familiar to you. A waitress crosses your path, like a deer suddenly crossing the road. The platter that she holds gets slightly jilted but the shot glasses of tequila survive and her too.

You stop her and grab a couple of shots, taking them down the hatch with no shame at all. Liquid fire claims your throat as you have no remorse for your future self who’ll be hugging a toilet in the morning. You cough and sputter as you continue your way to Santa Claus. “Merry Christmas Eve, little girl!” He cheers delightfully.

You giggle drunkenly, the kind of laugh that would make anyone fall for you. “Oh, so no ‘Merry Christmas Eve’ for me? Seems like someone is asking for coal, or maybe even a spanking.” He drawls in a slight country-Santa accent. Perhaps your ears aren’t deceiving you, but there's no plausible way that Santa Claus just said… that.

“Oh— uh— Merry Christmas Eve!” You whoop, before bursting out in another fit of bubbly giggles. He laughs with you, but only for a few moments before taking in your appearance. Though you’re drunk on tequila, a few sips of wine from before the party and eggnog, he’s aiming to get drunk on your aura. Quiet yet sweet, a nervous mess that only furthers your adorable-ness and amazing desserts.

“See something you like, Mr. Claus?” You question him, snapping him out of his daze. You wiggle your eyebrows to your best ability, but you’re no actress. “Well, maybe I do, little girl.” He winks at you, and you swear that you’ve seen him before. “Wait- Do you work here? Or did we just hire you?” You ask him, as though you’re interviewing him.

“Can’t hire Santa Claus, little girl.” He disappointingly clicks his tongue. You let out an ‘oh’ before letting out a small laugh. He smiles at you and you bite your lipstick stained lip. Your coworkers are chanting in the background but you choose to artfully block them out. Maybe you’re not choosing, and it’s just the alcohol doing its wonders.

“I’m not little, why are you callin’ me little girl?” You slur your words as you question him again. “You are a little girl, and I can’t believe you’re back talking to Santa!” He scolds you, making your eyes water. You jut your bottom lip out in a pout and you’re doing the best puppy eyes that you can. “You been drinking a lot, huh little girl?” He asks you, turning the tables and you gladly let him.

“Yep! Gotta stay hydrated…” You tell him in a sing-song voice that makes him chuckle. “Silly little girl, getting all drunk in front of her coworkers…” He chides, grabbing your almost flailing arms. He pulls you up into his lap with a grunt, even though it doesn’t take much strength. You’re immediately reminded of the way he used to sit you in his lap.

Spinning you around in circles at first, loud giggles and begging for them to stop. Perhaps it’s fortunate that the alcohol renders your mind fuzzy and you can only make out a few colour blobs. “Whaddya’ want for Christmas, little girl?” He teasingly questions, smoothing a white-gloved hand over your hair. “Hmm, I can have anything?” You ask him, a bit of drool leaking out of the corner of your mouth. He nods, taking his thumb and lifting it to your mouth.

Oh, how he has the urge to just push his thumb past your lips and make you choke on it. “Well… I want a raise, even though I’m not all that worthy of the company… Just like my ex said, I’m easily replaceable. Oh! Can I ask for another thing?” You perk up even though your throat burns with sadness and your eyes are almost leaking.

Interested, Lee nods and drags his thumb across your rouge top lip. If he didn’t have a wife who drags him to makeup stores on the regular, he would’ve thought your lipstick was expensive. But it isn’t, because there’s no way your paycheck can afford a lipstick from Hermes or Christian Louboutin. “Can I know why my boyfriend left me? I know I may seem dull and quiet, but I have more to myself…” You sadly ask him, ashamed of how he abandoned you for one of your closest friends.

Lee’s heart breaks in two — making him question whether or not he had a heart after all. Insults had him believing that he’s heartless, but you’re making him question every fibre of his being. “I’m sorry about that, little girl. But what we don’t know can’t hurt us, right? Curiosity killed the cat, little girl.” He reminds you, talking down to you as though you truly are a little girl. “But satisfaction brought it back.” You sass in return, your voice cracking from the impending tears and alcohol.

“You need to listen to me, little girl. Your boyfriend doesn’t know jackshit about treating a girl like you right. He probably doesn’t even know where your clit is.” He scoffs abruptly. You lean in, listening to him as though he’s the wisest man ever. “Bet he can’t fuck that tight lil’ pussy a’ yours as well as a real man like me can.” He whispers in your ear, sending shivers down your spine and heat to your core.

“Didn’t know Santa Claus had such a filthy mouth…” You tease him, running your hands up and down his thick thighs. He groans, his cock stiffening up inside his red trousers.

“But, before anything like that happens… I would really like to have a raise.” You say with a heavy-hearted sigh. Lee has the urge to grab you tightly and shove his big, hard cock into any wet hole of yours. “Alright, little girl. But you need to continue to be a good girl, or else I won’t be able to get you anything except for a spanking.” He warns with a faux-smile beneath his fake beard. You giggle and squeeze his thighs, almost like a wave goodbye.

You stumble off, probably to go pee or hurl your guts into a toilet. He watches as your hips sway with each step of yours. The sight fuels the thought of you grinding yourself on his cock as you beg him to fuck you. He notices the party has died down to just people humping each other to party songs. Grumbling, Lee pulls the awfully fake beard away from his handsome face. Before, he was cursing his luck for drawing the short stick to become Santa. But now, he’s glad.

He’ll talk to your boss about the raise, maybe along with a promotion. If only the others could mind their own businesses. Literally. He’s glad that he wore only a dress shirt and not the double-breasted suit Jane suggested for him. “You comin’ or what? We gotta’ make these deals before everyone leaves.” Bucky asks as he swiftly walks past Lee. Lee nods and starts to take off the rest of the obnoxious costume. Bucky puts no effort into stifling his chuckle, a known trait of his.

Bucky smooths his hair back, even though not one strand is out of place. His arm whirrs wildly and his fist clenches every few seconds. His stress symptoms were the worst, but they’ve never been this bad. It’s risky; the deal that they’re about to make. For months, they had been making secret bribes, forging numbers and signatures, and putting their employees in loopholes from their contracts. But this deal was the riskiest. Their plan was well thought out, all thanks to Charles, whose middle name might as well be devious.

He stands in front of one of the glass doors. His reflection looks back at him. Somehow, the dark look in his eyes becomes enhanced. His huge frame only makes him more intimidating, but he knows that no woman ever had a problem with it. Except for one. “You comin’?” Lee asks as he brushes past Bucky, mocking his words from earlier on. Bucky rolls his eyes like a spoiled rich kid because he is one.

Bucky buttons his suit jacket and exhales one last time. He walks to his right and pushes the door open with only a little bit of strength. Laughter from different men fills the room, along with thick tension and the smell of expensive booze. “Oh, look who decided to join us!” Ransom sarcastically jabs at Bucky. “Look who finally got laid. I was beginning to think you couldn’t get it up anymore, Drysdale.” Bucky sneers at him, pouring himself a glass of Dalmore 62.

Ransom grumbles a few curse words under his breath and a prideful smirk spreads across Bucky’s face. They all have their ties loosened, maybe even the top buttons of their shirts but nobody cares enough to look. All but Mr. Stan and Mr. Evans are relaxed. They stare at each other with such glares they could murder one another. They all sit in their chairs, all similar. Except for Mr. Stan, who seems as though he’s sitting on a throne.

“They havin’ a starin’ contest or what?” Lee questions Bucky, downing the rest of the whiskey. “I don’t know, but didn’t they hate each other over some family feud shit?” Bucky asks in return, handing Lee the bottle of highland malt scotch. “Like the game?” Lee jokingly asks, knowing that the two head owners of the companies loved to get into petty squabbles. “We all fucking wish.” Bucky jeers, eliciting a chuckle from Lee. As much as they all hate each other, they always did have their moments when they weren’t insulting each other.

The only one who isn’t drinking, Andy, pipes up from all the talking. “So are we going to make this deal or not? I gotta get home for Christmas.” He grumbles just like the old man he is. “Oh fuck you, Barber. Just because you went to Harvard doesn’t mean you’re some busy guy.” Steve jabs, clenching his jaw in annoyance. He always hated Andy, and he proudly showed it.

Charles snickers, Ransom too. Lee and Bucky smirk from the sidelines. Andy clicks his tongue in a threatening way. But Sebastian and Chris send daggers in the form of glares at them. “I suppose we could sign the contracts and then celebrate… I could call the girls from Eighteen30’s.” Sebastian proposes, standing up from his seat. He emerges from the darkness like Batman, his beautiful eyes gleaming in the light. Everyone in the room groans in pleasure, recalling the moments they remembered from the last time they went to Eighteen30’s.

Andy pulls the contract out of his briefcase; an obvious “Andy” move. The sounds of glasses being set down on surfaces fill the room at different pitches. Evans simply turns around, stroking his beard as if he wants to say something. “Got something to say, Evans?” Charles asks him, giving him a devilish smile. “No, just thinking about how I’m gonna be rich as fuck once the ink dries.” He says in almost a hopeful manner. He thinks he has everyone deceived, but it’s the total opposite.

They all choose to keep quiet, wanting to just sign the goddamn papers and get it over with. “Just to be sure… We all know what this entails, right? More money, more power.” Sebastian states, pouring himself a glass of whisky. He never minds the burn, he actually loves it. They all nod, because who doesn’t love money and power? They all pull a pen out of their jackets, ever the businessmen. One by one, in smooth black loops, they sign their full names on the contracts.

Sebastian and Chris are the last to sign because their names carry the most weight. Charles lights his pipes and sighs as he takes a drag of smoke from it. As Lee watches Charles puff the smoke out of his mouth, he has the urge to light up a cigarette. But he can’t, because his doctor told him not to. So now he has to suffer the pain of fighting away that urge and Charles all but taunts him. He watches, and he fights, and he watches until he snaps.

“‘Scuse me.” He says, getting up. “Are you going for the champagne?” Sebastian asks, tracing the rim of his glass. Lee nods, lying to his business partner and longtime friend. “I’ll come with, can’t fucking stand the darkness.” He grumbles, following Lee. They both appreciate the fact that the part is still lively, maybe even more as booze has taken over everyone’s body. “Hey man, sorry you had to be Santa this year.” Sebastian apologizes, clearing his throat beforehand.

It’s not unexpected. Lee already knows that Sebastian is comfortable with him. “Ah, it’s alright. Only had to talk to a couple ‘a horny girls and Mrs. Patterson’s son. That lil’ fucker is cute an’ all, but he fuckin’ drooled on my hand.” Lee rants to him, making him let out a chuckle. “Well, the girls weren’t all that bad, right?” Sebastian questions him, pulling out a pack of cigarettes. “They were… somethin’. Most of them were obnoxious, except for one of ‘em.” Lee admits to him.

“Oh really? Anyone I might know?” Sebastian continues, handing Lee a cigarette. Lee gruffly thanks him and hands him his Valentino lighter. “Hmm… not sure. I don’t think anyone really knows her, she seems quiet. But she was drunk, so that was nice.” Lee tells him, sparing certain details. “She wanted a raise, and to know why her boyfriend left her for some other girl. I think it was her friend. Either way, she nearly started cryin’ on my lap.” Lee recounts to him, something he’d only do with his therapist.

Besides fucking her, of course.

“Oh… maybe we could give her a raise. Do you see her here?” Sebastian asks him with a smirk on his face. Lee wonders if Sebastian is thinking of the same thing that he is, and vice versa. Lee’s blown out eyes scan the crowd for you, hoping you’re still here. Maybe perhaps even more drunk than before. “She’s in this burgundy dress and had a mini Santa hat on… Red lipstick too.” Lee describes to him. Sebastian nods his head and keeps on looking for you.

“Think she had lingerie on underneath the dress… probably wanted to get back with her boyfriend.” Lee begrudgingly admits to Sebastian, finishing his cigarette. Smoke flies from both of them yet nobody seems to care. “How do you know she had lingerie on?” Sebastian teasingly asks him. Lee’s face burns up with slight embarrassment. “I… I was feeling her up, I couldn't help myself. She was all over me in the cutest way possible.” Even though Lee doesn’t give a rat’s ass about God, he’d swear on her that he’s telling the truth.

“Is that her?” Sebastian asks him, pointing at you as you walk out of the women’s bathroom. “Yeah…” Lee puts out his cigarette and throws it beside him, leaving it for the janitor to pick up. Sebastian does the same, aiming his cigarette more accurately. “Fuck, that little doll? I’ve always had my sights set on her. Always so cute and shy… Never bothered anyone.” Sebastian groans, hoping— no, knowing that Lee and the others are on the same boat as he.

“I have an idea,” Lee says, shoving his hands in his pockets. Sebastian follows him, going along with whatever his idea is. From your spot at the snack table, you manage to fill your now empty stomach with your sugar cookies. You’re slightly disappointed that not many of your treats have disappeared, but you tell yourself the night is still young. You look up at the sound of footsteps coming closer and nearly choke on a cookie.

“Oh my— uh, Merry Christmas Eve, Mr. Stan and Mr. Bodecker!” You cheer, stumbling on your words and yourself. “Hi, darlin’,” Lee says, giving you his signature ‘ladies only’ smile. You feel yourself become shy at the sight, but Mr. Stan makes you look back up. He clears his voice and you take in both of them. They both stand tall and intimidating, with enchanting stares that just capture you. “Merry Christmas Eve to you too, little girl,” Sebastian says, taking in your form.

You look absolutely adorable and innocent in front of them. In your little burgundy dress and Santa hat… slightly tipsy with cookie crumbs all over your face. “We came over here to ask you for a quick favour… We just closed one of our biggest deals and we’d love for you to help us bring the champagne. Maybe make a toast with us? It’s the least we can do since you brought all these lovely treats.” Lee explains, grabbing himself a sugar cookie.

It’s identical to the one you have in your hand; except yours is half-eaten and his only has a small nibble. “M- Me? Really?” You ask in shock, nearly going into full cardiac arrest. They probably don’t even know your name, but that doesn’t matter. At least they’re talking to you. “Yep! Unless someone else made all these delicious desserts.” Sebastian jokes around, slightly admitting that he tried a cookie. You shake your head in object and lace your sweaty fingers together.

God, why did you have to drink?

“I’d love to, Sirs.” You whisper with the utmost grace you can muster up whilst being half-drunk. They both nod and Lee places a heavy arm around your shoulders. The cookie in your hand breaks and you not so discreetly drop all the crumbs onto the floor. “Can I ask what the deal is for?” You question, not even daring to look up from the floor. “Oh, it’s nothing to worry your cute little brain about,” Sebastian tells you with a smile, quickly shutting you up and shutting the topic down.

They lead you to the bar and Sebastian makes a simple gesture with his hand. The bartender makes quick work of getting five champagne bottles and you’re easily amazed. Without realizing it, your jaw drops slightly in awe. Both Sebastian and Lee chuckle at how cute you are. The sounds are absolute heaven and they force you to realize something.

Holy-fucking-shit— You have feelings for your bosses.

You choke on your saliva at the epiphany, making Sebastian and Lee jump to you in concern. “Hey, are you okay?” Sebastian asks you, rubbing your back gently. Lee does this same, but his hand inches down to the small of your back. With anyone, you would jerk away and feel very uncomfortable. But with them… With them, it’s the complete opposite. You nod as you slowly calm down. The bartender sets the numerous bottles of champagne down on the bar.

Two bottles of Dom Pérignon, two bottles of Boërl & Kroff Magnum and one bottle of Goût de Diamant Brut. It’s the most expensive champagne in the world, costing $1.2 million. But to them and the company, it’s no big deal. You only know the price because he would rave about it on and on. You sniffle at the memory and Lee shushes you in a calming matter.

“Here, you lift this one, and we’ll carry the rest,” Lee instructs, handing you one of the bottles of Dom Pérignon. You hold onto the bottle tightly, but not too tightly. Sebastian and Lee point to where they’re going to celebrate, just to direct you. You walk in small steps, careful to not drop the bottle. They’d probably murder you if you did. “Right there, little girl… I— uh, I heard you wanted a raise, is that true?” Lee asks you, desperate to hear your lovely voice.

“Uh yeah, I just haven’t had a raise since I’ve been working here. All my coworkers are constantly getting raises…” You sheepishly admit to your two bosses. They nod and frown, how long has that been going on? They’ve kept their eyes on you since you started working here. You reach the door and you don’t open it because your two hands are occupied. Lee oddly knocks on the door, perhaps in a code. A few seconds pass, but the alcohol in your system makes it feel like an eternity.

Mr. Barnes opens up the door and gasps at you. “Nice to see you again, little girl.” He greets, smirking down at you. The sober version of you would’ve noticed the plethora of men in the room, but drunk-you can’t focus on too much at once. You nod shakily, swallowing thickly as you remember your encounter with Bucky earlier this evening. Bucky takes the champagne bottle from you and leads you inside, Sebastian and Lee following.

Bucky briefly leaves the room after setting down the bottle of champagne on one of the tables. It’s incredibly dark in the room and you can only make out the lights coming from the city. Sebastian flicks the lights on and you bite back a hiss at the sudden change. You look around and nearly drop dead right there and then. The company’s biggest enemies are here, smug as ever. “I… Huh?” You’re confused, not sure if your mind is playing a wicked trick on you.

Mr. Blackwood takes a drag from his pipe and then puts it out, the only remnants of it being the scent of smoke. In front of you, though, are Mr. Drysdale, Mr. Barber, Mr. Rogers and Mr. Evans. “Is this the little minx you’ve been telling us about?” Steve asks your bosses, unbuttoning his suit jacket. “Yep, even better in person,” Bucky says, pushing your hair to the side. “What’s going on?” You ask, trying to move away from him. Lee quickly stops you, his pudgy stomach pushing you closer to Bucky.

“Like I said before, little girl. Nothin’ for you to worry your little brain about.” Lee says, his country drawl sending shivers throughout your body. Little girl… The nickname is all too familiar, and it’s not like anyone else with a country accent would call you that. “You were Santa Claus?” You ask him, slightly nudging him. “She’s smart… Can’t fucking wait to make her go all stupid for our cocks.” Ransom says, a smug half-grin on his face.

You whimper at his words because they’re straight out of your greatest fantasies.

“Oh you like that, don’t you? You really wanna be dumb and stupid for our cocks?” Bucky asks in a condescending tone. You shake your head no because all you want is to get out of here. “Let’s get the real party started…” Chris ominously says, grabbing a bottle of Dom Pérignon. He pops it open, the wooden cork flying to the other side of the room.

Foam pours out of the bottle and everyone cheers, minus yourself. Instead, you flinch and still try to move from their grasps. Andy hands him the glasses and he pours everyone half a glass. You, on the other hand, receive a full glass with a strawberry inside. “I- I think I had enough to drink tonight…” You shyly tell them, inching your body away from Andy. “Nonsense, celebrate with us, little girl.” He objects, beginning to tilt the glass forward.

You shake your head and twist your face away, but Bucky’s metal hand stops you. He roughly grabs your jaw and squeezes until your mouth pops open. Champagne fills your mouth and you refuse to swallow. Lee’s fingers dance across your cheek and clamp over your nose, cutting off your only source of oxygen. “C’mon, swallow it all. Do it like the good little girl you are.” Charles demands, the praise going straight to the pit of your stomach.

You cave because there’s no way you’re winning this. Against your will, you swallow the bubbly golden liquid. Slight carbonation sizzles on your tongue and in the back of your throat. You have to admit, it is absolutely delightful. You now see why rich people drink it like it’s water. “That’s a good girl. See? Wasn’t so bad after all.” Andy praises you, tapping your cheek as though you’re a pet.

You whimper again, feeling Lee and Bucky grab your arms tightly. “As much as I love that cute little dress, I’d prefer to see you out of it,” Ransom smirks, handing Andy another glass of champagne. This time, it’s a glass of Boërl & Kroger Magnum. It’s stronger, much stronger than the previous one. Ransom’s hands come to the front of your favourite dress and a loud rip reverberates throughout the room.

You squeeze your eyes shut as the room fills with whistles and groans. “Fuckin’ hell, little girl.” Lee groans, his cock swelling up once again. Suddenly, everyone’s trousers are a few sizes too small. They drink in your lingerie-clad form and you grow even shyer underneath their strong gazes. “I don’t know if I wanna fuck you in this little get-up, or rip it off and then fuck you.” Steve groans, palming himself through his dress pants.

You don’t realize until now that they’ve all surrounded you. Andy tilts the glass into your slack jaw and you allow the bubbly beverage to fill your mouth. Why fight it? Plus, there’s no way you can get wasted off of champagne. You can feel a bit of champagne dribble down your chin and towards your cleavage. It has you feeling even more embarrassed and ashamed than you already are.

The sight fuels everyone in the room. “Fuck it,” Steve says, grabbing the glass from Andy. He throws it behind him, a crash reverberating in the room. You flinch at the sound and Ransom cooes condescendingly. “Are you scared, little girl?” Ransom asks you, tilting your chin up to his face. His blue eyes are blown out with lust and darkness. He smashes his lips against yours and you’re not sure whether to kiss him back or not.

A harsh hand squeezing your ass warns you to mimic his movements. The kiss is rough and filled with need. You try to keep up with kiss lips, so focused on doing it correctly. You don’t even realize that you’re being moved to one of the couches and that everyone has been stripped from their suits. The only article of clothing on the men is their boxers. Ransom shoves his tongue into your mouth and you let him dominate you. Sets of hands begin to feel up your body — groping, squeezing, rubbing.

You feel someone else’s lips on your neck, lightly peppering kisses near that sweet spot of yours. As soon as Charles hits it, you melt in all of their hands. “That’s a good girl, yeah.” Chris praises, cupping one of your tits through your bra. The strings on your lingerie are tearing away, the sound echoing in your ears. Your bra and underwear remain, with tethers of red string on them. Sebastian’s hands run up and down your waist, making goosebumps form.

You aren’t sure what Lee, Andy and Steve are doing, but you know their hands are on you somewhere. Then, Ransom pulls away. Your lips are swollen and they even hurt a bit, too. You can feel wetness pooling in your red panties, but you’re too drunk to care about your sudden neediness. You’re worried about what’s going to happen. Lee lifts you and places you on the expensive shag carpet.

You whimper in pain as the carpet digs into your skin remorselessly. “Sorry, baby. It’ll be worth it, don’t worry.” Lee gently tells you, rubbing your cheek. Suddenly, he strikes you harshly. You let out a shriek of pain and fear, but you’re quickly shushed. “Shh, I know you like that, look -- You’re rubbing your thighs together like a lil’ slut.” He jeers, stroking the other cheek. You whimper and shake your head, even though he’s correct.

“Lying isn’t very nice, little girl,” Steve warns, standing next to Lee. You look up at them both, tears welling in your beautiful eyes. The sight makes them even harder than they already are, to the point where it’s almost unbearable. Lee pulls his boxers down and so does Steve. You gasp and your jaw nearly drops. Their cocks bunce up and slap their lower abdomens. Pre-cum leaks from their swollen, red tips. They’re both roughly the same size, but Lee is thicker than Steve.

“You like what you see, little girl?” Steve asks, grabbing the base of his cock. It looks even bigger in his large hands, and you gulp in fear. You’re not sure why you’re nodding, but you can’t stop yourself. Lee gives his cock a few strokes, and Steve grabs a handful of your hair. You whimper loudly as he drags you closer to his cock. “Say ‘ahh’.” Steve teases, before shoving his cock into your mouth.

You’ve done this before, but never with someone of his length and girth. Your mouth and jaw immediately start to hurt at the stretch. His cock is only halfway into your mouth, but it’s quite possibly one of the worst feelings ever. Steve tugs at your hair again, and you take it as a sign to start sucking. You hollow your cheeks and begin to bob your head, your tongue laving at the bottom of his cock.

You can feel the different veins on his cock throb, pulsating underneath the wetness of your tongue. He groans above you and the others in the room whistle at you. You’re not sure where to look, so your eyes dart around. You end up locking eyes with the man above you and your squeak around his cock. The vibrations of your voice have him cursing like a sailor. “Fuckin’ hell, little girl. So good at sucking cock.” He praises, petting the top of your head.

You involuntarily hum at the praise, squeezing your thighs together. Suddenly, you’re pulled off of Steve’s cock. You gasp for air, not even realizing how you were barely breathing whilst sucking his cock. Your chest heaves and your heart clamours as Lee drags you closer to him. He slaps the fat tip of his cock on your thrumming cheek. You flinch, feeling sticky pre-cum stain your face. Lee shoves his cock in your mouth the same way Steve did, only this time he forces you all the way down.

Your nose meets his fuzzy, soft tummy. You gag and sputter around his cock, trying to control your very much needed breathing. Lee places both his hands on each side of your head. Somehow, he’s still a bit gentle with you, even though he’s forcing you to suck his cock. He slowly moves your head up and down, moaning softly at the feeling of your wet mouth. Saliva coats his coat with a sticky sheen that only helps you make him feel good and nothing more.

“Oh, fuck.” He groans loudly, tossing his head back. You swallow around his cock, your threat constricting around him for a brief moment. You can feel his heavy balls against your chin for a few moments every now and then. All of a sudden, you’re once again pulled away from his cock. Steve forces himself farther into your mouth, just like Lee.

You feel light-headed from the little bit of air you’re getting. But you know that’s not their priority. Gags fill the room and your eyes roll back into your head. You aren’t pulled off of his cock, yet. “Fuck, I’m pretty sure she’s enjoying this as much as you are, Steve,” Bucky says, only just realizing that you’re trying to alleviate the ache between your legs. Everyone’s eyes fall to your cunt, where you’re rubbing your thighs together and humping the hair like a little bunny.

“Bet she probably doesn’t even realize it…” Ransom smirks, feeling his cock throb. You can only hear some of their words. You don’t know what they’re talking about, but it can’t be good. Steve begins to thrust his cock into your mouth, moving his hips back and forth. His balls slap your chin, his cock stretches your mouth and his moans are the only thing your ears can hear. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” He announces, and you shake your head in objection.

You place your hands on his thighs and push him as much as you can. Your efforts are wasted because he doesn’t budge at all. You decide to resort to hitting, but it still doesn’t do anything. Steve suddenly still and his cum shoots down your throat. White stickiness fills your mouth up and you whine loudly. Steve paints your mouth with white streaks and he sighs loudly. He doesn’t pull out even after he’s already come, and you’re confused.

“C’mon, swallow it all like the good little slut you are.” He husks, his voice a bit hoarse. He shoves his cock more into your throat and you have no choice but to swallow it all. As soon as you do, Lee pulls you away from Steve. “Fuckin’ piece of shit.” He grumbles loud enough for only you to hear. He gives a nod to someone and then grabs a hold of your head again. “Shh it’s okay, you can do it. I know you can, you’re a good girl.” He eases, slowly pushing his cock into your wet cavern.

Unlike Steve, Lee is a bit gentler. Maybe it’s because his heart is slightly bigger than his dick. His cock hits your gag reflex and you’re so fucking lucky that you aren’t having any… accidents. Steve’s cum is still lingering in your mouth — musky, a little salty, and sticky. The droplets that are on the side of your mouth roll down Lee’s cock, leaving slight wetness on him that isn’t saliva. As soon as your nose nuzzles against his stomach, he groans.

He keeps your head locked in place for some reason, you’re not exactly sure why. Maybe he’s giving you some time to get used to his thickness. You hum in delight, a way of showing that you’re thankful that he’s sparing you some humanity. He chuckles, stroking one of your cock-filled cheeks. Cold fingers crawl between your thigh and you jump in fear. Your body doesn’t fully jerk away because of Lee’s strength. You can see Bucky smirking from your peripheral view and he rubs your wet cunt through the panties.

You shake your head and try to kick him away, but he stops you from protesting. Bucky spanks your ass harshly, watching as the skin ripples from the force. “Uh uh, stop that. Don’t make me put you over my knee and spank you ‘till you’re bleeding.” He threatens, placing one of his knees on your leg. You try to wiggly away from him, but your attempts are fruitless. You accept defeat, but only for now.

His metal hand returns to your cunt and he grabs the crotch of your soaking wet underwear. Bucky pulls it away from your cunt and you can still see his grin as smug as ever. You look up at Lee and your eyes plead for him to stop it all, but he just rubs your bulging throat. He moans at the slight pleasure and you gulp in fear. His thumb rubs at your cheek whilst Bucky rips your underwear away from your pussy.

Sebastian, Chris, Ransom, Andy, Charles, and Steve watch the sight before them with their hands palming their hard cocks. “She’s so fucking wet, aren’t you, little girl? Bet you got this wet just from sucking their cocks, ‘cause you love it so much. You love being a little slut for us.” He sneers, lightly smacking your cunt. You whimper around Lee’s cock and he grows tired of holding back.

He drags his hips back slightly and moves your head away from his cock, before pushing you back down rather quickly and harshly. You feel Bucky’s fingers trace at your drooling hole, occasionally dipping the tip of one of his fingers inside. He traces your wet lips and your sensitive clit too. You twitch at the sudden stimulation. Lee guides you up and down his cock at a rather decent pace. Your gags, wet noises and Lee’s moans fill the room in a rather melodious manner.

Bucky pushes one finger into your tight cunt, groaning at how your pussy immediately hugs his digit. “God, you’re so fucking tight. This cunt just needs to be destroyed, doesn’t it? Don’t worry, we’re gonna ruin it for any other man.” Bucky chuckles, pushing his digit further into you. He feels around, searching that spot that you haven’t found yet.

“You look so pretty with your mouth stuffed full of my cock, little girl. So fuckin’ pretty, ‘s like it was made just for me.” Lee cooes at you, thrusting even harder into your mouth. Tears sting your eyes but you ignore them. Bucky let’s put a noise of satisfaction and pride as you clench around his fingers. “There it is… Do you like it when I touch you like that, baby? Yeah, I know you do. Fuckin’ love it.” He husks in your ear, before nibbling on your earlobe.

You squeeze your eyes shut once Bucky starts moving his fingers inside you. Lee fucks your face with sloppy movements, signalling his impending orgasm. You place your hands on his thick, squishy thighs. Your short nails dig into his soft skin slightly as Bucky assaults your g-spot with his metal fingers. Lee pulls out your hair, a delicious sting radiating from your head. The pain makes you sputter once again around his cock, and that’s when Lee loses himself.

Just like Steve, he shoves his cock further down your throat as he hits his orgasm. His hot cum shoots down your throat, some of it filling your mouth up along with his cock. His hips are stilled but his cock is twitching almost wildly in your mouth. You can feel him throbbing against your tongue and you’re more ashamed than ever. Hopefully, it’s all over now. You shut your eyes close, unable to look Lee in his eyes.

He gives your cheek a light slap, and this time you don’t shriek or flinch. You swallow obediently around his cock, losing all defiance just so that it can all be over. You cringe at the feeling of his cum sliding down your throat, which is a fleeting moment. Bucky’s other hand reaches down to play with your little pearl of nerves. Suddenly, you’re gushing around his single-digit as it thrusts in and out of your pussy. “You look so pretty when you come, little girl. Such a sight.” Bucky whispers in your ear, kissing your neck.

“Aw, you love this, don’t you?” Lee asks, watching as you struggle to keep yourself together. You shake your head, even though the man above you doesn’t allow you to move. “Yeah, you do. You love sucking your seniors’ cocks and having your bosses watch. That’s why you’re all wet, right? Soaking Bucky’s fingers an’ coming all around them.” Lee presses, pulling his cock out. Somehow, he’s still as hard as ever. Steve too.

You open your mouth up to scream for help, but Ransom quickly stops you. His hand wraps around your neck and squeezes, cutting you off. Your scream for help dies down in your throat and so has all the fight in your body. Bucky continues to fuck you with his finger and his hand doesn’t leave your clit either. His movements are quicker, much quicker. Ransom leans his face close to yours, a dangerous scowl staining his.

“Do you want us to be rough, hm? We can fucking ruin you, and your holes. Are you that fucking stupid to try and scream? Who’s gonna help you anyway? Especially if they walk in to see you bouncing up and down on our cocks, begging for our cum.” He spits, squeezing your throat even tighter. “I— I’m sorry.” You apologize, scared of the man in front of you and the others who surround you.

You can feel yourself slowly losing consciousness, slowly but surely. Tears sting your eyes and begin to leak down your cheeks, maybe Ransom chuckle. You can feel his pinky ring dig into the skin of your neck, just like how you can feel Bucky’s fingers push against your sweet spot. “Do you wanna breathe, or do you wanna cum like a good girl?” He asks lowly, staring right into your eyes. You’re not sure what the right answer is, but you can barely think.

From the loss of oxygen to the way Bucky's fingers and slowing down and denying your pleasure. You feel Ransom’s fingers loosen a bit, almost as if he’s giving you a hint. You’re sure he knows you can’t think straight, and he’s probably going to tease you for it. “I… I wanna cum like-- like a good girl…” You breathlessly admit, feeling your eyes flutter shut. “Please…” You beg, more tears leaking from your glassy eyes.

Ransom lets go of your neck but he doesn’t let you fall. Bucky’s ministrations on your pussy speed up, bringing you closer to the edge. White fire burns in your stomach and cunt as you can feel yourself about to cum. “Please, please, please, Sir…” You unconsciously beg, before starting to sob. “Awe… Look at you, so desperate. Hm? You don’t even care if you were gonna pass out, you just want to come.” Ransoms jabs at you, grabbing your face roughly.

You can see that he’s taken off his boxers, his hard cock hanging between his built thighs. “Do it, come right fucking now.” He demands, before hollowing his cheeks out. You can’t see what he’s doing through your bleary eyesight, but you have a feeling that it isn’t good for you. You let out a gasp as Ransom spit on your face, his sticky salvia painting your left cheek.

It drips down to your open mouth in the worst way possible. You let it roll into your mouth because you can’t stop it. “Oh my God, yes…” You pant desperately as you hit your climax. You cum all over Bucky’s fingers, your cunt spasming. You moan loudly, just like the slut they claim you are. Bucky rubs your clit and continues to finger you until you can barely keep yourself up. “So sensitive… God, I’m gonna have so much fun with this pussy.” Bucky groans, slowing down his movements.

You barely have any time to collect yourself from your heaven-sent orgasm. You’re being lifted and placed on someone else. You rub your eyes and turn around, just to see Andy smirking up at you. His kind-seeming eyes, but his smile tells a different story. You turn back around, just to see your bosses and their deviant partners surrounding you. Charles steps forward with his signet ring-decorated hand wrapped around his cock.

He stares you down as he spits in his hands and brings it to his cock. He strokes himself slowly, the salvia making lewd squelching sounds. Andy’s hands crawl up your ass to your soft thighs. He grabs your skin and spreads your legs as wide as he deems best. His thighs rest under yours as Charles kneels down in front of you. “Such a pretty little pussy, Bambina.” He softly tells you, as though he’s your lover.

It seems that you’re looking at him, it truly does. But in reality, you’ve zoned out to a land far, far away from where there were no monsters like these men. Only princes and heroes like him. “Look at her, she looks so fucked out.” Steve comments, pointing at you. Charles hums, before snapping his fingers. Your trip is cut short, and you’re back to reality. Charles grabs the base of his cock and slaps the head of it on your sensitive clit, making you twitch.

Andy runs two of his fingers across your face; his pointer and his middle finger. He moves down to your slightly parted lips and pushes them inside. Charles smears his pre-cum against your wet lips, mixing the stickiness with your cum. You whimper at the feeling and focus on that only. “C’mon, suck on my fingers like it’s my cock, little girl.” Andy urges, pressing your tongue with his fingers.

You hesitatingly comply, trying to please him. The more you listen, the quicker it’ll all be over, right? “You’re just a good little slut, aren’t you? So good, the best little girl ever.” Charles praises, running the head of his cock through your folds. If this was all… okay, then you would agree with him and serve your duties as a good girl. But it isn’t okay, so you leave it at that. Charles pulls his now soaking wet cock away from your pussy, and you feel him push in.

But it isn’t him. It’s Andy’s cock. He slowly pushes into you, stretching you until it hurts like nothing before. He bottoms out with a loud moan that nearly makes your right ear hurt. He doesn’t begin to fuck you brutally, as any man would. No, he stays buried in your wet cunt and Charles seizes the moment. His wet cock head nudges against your other hole, the one that was forbidden to your boyfriend — ex-boyfriend.

You flinch and try to close your legs, but Andy stops you as quickly as possible. “Please…” You beg, using your eyes to tell him “No, I don’t want this. Please stop.” He shushes you and pushes the head of his cock in slightly. You’re gratefully he doesn’t just get on with it and brutalizes you. Andy pulls out of your wet cunt and you’re immensely confused.

To be honest, though, you always are.

Charles pushes into your cunt and fills you up like Andy. He immediately finds your sweet spot just like Bucky did. Andy grabs his cock and leads it to your tighter hole, before slowly pushing in. He groans loudly at how tight you are, how much you’re squeezing him like a vice. “No, stop it, please.” You beg, trying to get up from your spot on his chest.

He pulls you back down and Charles wraps his hand around your throat. “Shut up. Shut your fucking mouth before I get one of them to stuff it full with their cock.” He threatens. His face is calm in the most frightening way possible. Andy curses behind you as he finally bottoms out inside your ass. The pain makes you want to scream, but after your previous antics, you choose to just bite your lip and keep quiet.

Your short, red nails dig into your palms and draw blood, but it doesn’t hurt that badly. They both nod at each other but you don’t notice it at all, too focused on the excruciating pain you’re feeling. You might say that you’re about to pass out, but you can’t even form anything more than “please,” and moans of pain. Charles’s rough thumb rests upon your throbbing clit, ready to bring you to your orgasm.

But God, you’re squeezing his cock so tightly with your pussy it takes him a few moments to collect himself. “You’re squeezing our cocks so nicely, little baby. You just don’t wanna let us go.” Andy chuckles, wiggling his hips for some friction. You let out a loud moan — and you’re not sure if it’s of pain or pleasure.

Charles slowly drags his cock out of your cunt, leaving just the tip inside you. The feeling of sudden emptiness reminds you of when you stand up too quickly after laying down for a while. Mind-altering, if you must say. He slams back inside you and Andy does the opposite; pulling out of you. Charles fuck you slow, yet hard and rough. He rubs your clot quickly as he fucks you relentlessly.

Groans, whistles, curse words and moans all fill the room yet you only focus on the way their cocks are driving in and out of you. “Fuck, such a nice ass. You love having Daddy’s cock in your ass, don’t you?” Andy asks, looking straight down to where you’re connected. You swallow thickly and Charles feels it against his hand. He squeezes the sides of your throat slightly, and you nod quickly.

“Say it. Say you love having my cock fuck your little ass. I bet nobody ever fucked you like this, not even that lousy boyfriend of yours. You probably wished he took you like the little slut you are, destroying all your holes.” He demands as his dirty words make you wetter and wetter. “I…” You pant helplessly, looking around.

Everyone stares you down, their cocks in their hands as they slowly jerk off to you. “I l-love having your c-cock fuck my a-ass, Daddy.” You sheepishly tell him, whispering that last part. “Brava, Bambina.” Charles praises, punctuating his words with one thrust that hits your cervix. You let out a cry and the lewd sounds of them fucking you are drowned out for a brief second.

Charles continues to pummel your g-spot, and occasionally, your cervix. The pain isn’t as bad as the pain Andy is causing you. You can feel Andy’s cock pulsating in you, driving in and out of you. You’re sure you’re probably bleeding, but you know that none of these men care. “Fuck, she’s so stretched out…” Someone says, loud enough so you can hear.

You feel yourself being pushed to the edge at a rather fast pace. “You gonna come, baby? You gotta ask us first.” Charles snickers, slowing down his thrusts and taking away his thumb from your clit. You whine out like a bitch in heat, desperate to come all over their cocks. “Please…” You beg, gyrating your hips so that Charles can continue to fuck you like a starved man.

“Gotta do better than that, Tesoro Mio.” He hums, pulling out even more. He watches in awe as your wetness coats his cock like nothing before. In the bright lights, his cock glistens with your juices. “Please, please let me come! I need it, I want to come so badly, Sir!” You beg, bucking your hips upwards. “That’s a good little slut.” He praises, pushing back into your cunt. You moan loudly and wantonly once he bottoms out again.

The pain in your ass finally turns into pleasure and you moan even louder. “Oh my god!” You squeal despite your throat hurting. You grind down on their cocks slightly, chasing your orgasm. “Please let me come. Please, Sir… Please, Daddy!” You beg involuntarily, taking a page out of your wildest fantasies. Your words spur them on and you’re suddenly crashing into a lovely climax. You moan loudly and clamp down on their cocks as much as your body lets you.

“Fuck, you’re even more beautiful when you come around our cocks. You love being fucked by two men, don’t you? Yeah, yeah you do. That’s why you’re being so needy and desperate.” Andy groans in your ear, feeling his balls tighten up as you milk him and Charles for all they’re worth. You nod in agreement, not even caring anymore,

You soak their cocks with your cum, and your eyes roll back into your skull. “Awe, look at her. She goin’ all stupid.” Lee teases, squeezing the base of his cock to stave off his release. Your heart clamours in your chest, beating wildly as you struggle to come down from your high. Your mind has a slight buzz to it, and the champagne is the one to blame. You can hear soft moans from the other men, and you fight back a shy smile of pride.

Charles and Andy both have beads of sweat dripping down their skin, enhancing your arousal. They both curse under their breaths and groan. Andy’s hips still first, and his cock twitches inside you. “Oh fuck…” He groans in a low voice. Streaks of cum paint your insides, filling you up in a pleasant way possible. You sigh at the feeling and look up at Charles. He squeezes your throat a bit tighter, which only makes you wetter.

His thrusts are slow and sloppy, signalling his orgasm. “Please come in me… Please, Sir.” You whisper to him, knowing he needs something to push him over the edge. “Fill me up with your cum, Sir.” You add, remembering certain lines from porn videos you used to watch. “Oh— fuck…” He groans as he comes inside you. You can feel his cum, filling you up to the brim and then some. Andy pulls out, his cock lightly brushing against Charles’s thigh.

You watch Charles as he slowly comes down from euphoria. You feel empty, so empty. Bucky watches with hungry eyes as cum and a tinge of blood leaks out of your asshole. It’s slightly stretched, which only turns him on even more. Charles drags his cock out of your pussy, slowly and carefully just so that he won’t hurt you.

Again, if the circumstances weren’t so… fucked up, you would’ve enjoyed this all.

You sigh and flop backwards onto Andy’s chest, ready for sleep to take you. You feel your eyes flutter shut, but then you’re jerked back to reality. Your eyes open up just for you to come face to face with Bucky, who smiles deviously at you. “I know you’re tired, baby, but we’re not done with you yet.” He cooes at you, rubbing your ass.

You don’t know where he’s taking you, but you hope it’s somewhere near the door.

“Hi, baby girl… You feelin’ good?” A raspy yet oh-so-familiar voice asks you. You rub your eyes as you’re set on someone’s lap. Ransom’s dark, lust-filled eyes lock with your tired ones. It takes you a good few moments to nod, and he chuckles. His hand comes up to your face, cupping your slightly sticky cheek. He caresses your face with his thumb, and you involuntarily lean into his touch.

Bucky pushes you farther into Ransom’s arms and he grabs your hurting hips. Cum leaks from both of your aching, stretched holes. Ransom’s hand leaves your cheek, but it quickly returns. But this time, it isn’t sweet and loving. No. Instead, he gives you a light slap on the cheek, just like Lee did. The coolness of his ring on your hot skin is… refreshing. It’s different.

Your ass is lifted into the air slightly, giving Bucky easy access to your stretched out rim. Bucky runs his hands up and down your ass, occasionally spanking you. The crack of his hand against your skin is just a reminder of your situation. You can feel Ransom’s cock resting right beneath your abused cunt, throbbing with want and need.

He grabs the base of his cock and lines the fat, leaking tip up to your cum-filled hole. Neither he nor Bucky needs any lube, all thanks to Andy and Charles. In one thrust, he fills you in a way that your fingers can’t. You can feel Bucky scoop up some of the cum leaking from your holes, along with your juices. Everywhere is tingling, a sensation unlike anything else.

He brings his fingers up to your mouth and Ransom squeezes your jaw until your mouth falls open, just like before. Bucky quickly pushes his fingers into your mouth. The taste of cum — salty, musky, and sweet — fills your mouth. It laps over your tongue and you involuntarily swallow it all. Whilst being distracted by Bucky’s fingers in your mouth, you don’t realize that he’s already pushing into your ass.

You gasp around his fingers as he quickly bottoms out inside you. Bucky’s too eager to take it slow. Bucky takes his now spit-slick fingers and wraps his arm around you, reaching down to your clit. You feel even more full than when Andy and Charles were in you. Maybe it’s the added cum, or maybe it’s the same and you’re just not used to being filled by two cocks.

Ransom moves his hand to your stomach and rubs the skin there — the bulging skin. The outline of his cock is faint, but it’s there. “Look at you, all filled up with our cocks.” Ransom whispers, before roughly grabbing your hips. He grinds you down onto his cock before lifting you slightly. Both he and Buckypull out slightly and start shallowly thrusting into you, almost in a teasing way.

You want more, you want more pleasure so badly. You want them to fuck you hard, for them to fuck you deeply and maybe even roughly. “You want something, don’t you, baby? So ungrateful…” Ransom disappointingly coaxes. You thrust back onto Bucky’s cock, a trick you learned from when you caught your ex-boyfriend balls-deep in your closest friend. Then, you grind down on Ransom’s cock.

Cum drips from both of your entrances and runs down the sides of their shafts and your inner thighs. “Fuck, if you wanted it that badly all you had to do was ask real sweetly.” Bucky groans, losing all sense and self-control. He pulls his cock out all the way, not even leaving the tip inside your ass. Ransom pulls halfway out and then bucks his hips up. He fucks back into you, but this time it’s more deep and punctuated.

“Oh— Thank you… Thank you, Sir!” You squeal as Ransom pounds against your g-spot over and over. His sticky, swollen, heavy balls slap against your empty ass. Bucky rubs your clit slowly, just to hear you whine like the desperate slut you are. “C’mon, make some noise for Daddy.” He demands in your ear, rubbing the tip of his cock on your other hole.

The feeling is lovely, but you crave more. “Please… Please fuck my ass, Daddy! I wan’ it so bad, wan’ you to put your big cock in me… Please, please…” You beg whilst you pant wildly. “примерная девочка.” He husks before pushing his hips forward. Despite having your… anal cherry being just popped, he acts as though you’re constantly begging to take it up the ass.

“Fuck, she doing that thing again,” Ransom comments, staring at your face. By ‘that thing,’ he means that way your mouth drops open in a silent scream and your eyes roll back into your skull. You clench around both Bucky’s and Ransom’s cocks, even though your muscles are barely working. You fall onto Ransom’s chest and you can hear his heart beating wildly in his chest, just like yours.

Unbeknownst to you, you just gave Bucky more leverage to fuck your ass. He takes his hand away from your clit and instead wraps it around your hair. He gives your hair a slight tug, and starts fucking you even harder. You dig your nails into Ransom’s chest at the stronger thrusts overpower your entire body and mind. You can hear a groan rumbling in his chest. “Fuck, best pussy I ever had.” He growls, finishing his sentence with one painful snap of his hips that goes straight to your cervix.

“Oh, can I come, please? I need it so— so badly, Daddy… Please, please let me come…” You beg, feeling the knot in your stomach beginning to tighten up. The pressure increases and you’re not sure if you can hold out for a minute more. The lewd sounds, the feeling of their cocks driving in and out of you, and their moans all push you to the edge.

“Awe, well go ahead, little girl. You’ve earned it, come all over our cocks.”

“Yeah… Fuck— I don’t think ‘m gonna last any longer…” Bucky curses under his breath loud enough for you and Ransom to hear. Ransom nods, a bead of sweat running down his neck. Bucky’s metal hand comes up to your bra and he unhooks it. Ransom grabs the cheap fabric and throws it at one of his friends. Ransom gives a wink to Lee, who pockets your bra.

Your tits are sticky with dried champagne from before. Ransom has the urge to swirl his tongue around your hardened nubs until you’re coming around their cocks once again. But his basic needs are just more important than yours as of now. Bucky’s hips still first, his brutality against your ass finally coming to an end.

He swallows thickly — but he gets caught off by a loud, deep moan of his own. It’s right in your ear, and Bucky has you use your body as a brace to hold himself up. His balls tighten up and cum shoots inside your ass. You’re far more sensitive than the previous time and now you can feel every single drop painting your walls. Ransom follows, his load pumping into you in a relieving way. Your walls encompass them both, hugging them tightly.

Bucky fucks into you with a few more thrusts; shallow and quick. He prolongs his orgasm until his mind is fuzzy and his cock can’t take it. He pulls out, removing his hand from your hair and he sighs. His and Andy’s cum follows his cock along with a streak of light pink. He feels nice, prideful in a way that throughout all the pain, you only ever took pleasure.

Ransom keeps his cock locked inside of you, and he just knows that you’re on the verge of either crying, screaming, or passing out. He also knows that you’re smart, and won’t do anything other than remain docile for Sebastian and Chris. “C- Can I go now? I won’t tell anyone– I swear!” You plead to Ransom in an excited sort of whisper. Ransom clenches his jaw and stares down at you, and your lips turn down into a frown.

“You’re lucky we aren’t alone.” He tells you and his words are enough to shut you up. You whimper, but you don’t apologize. “You’ve been such a good girl…” Sebastian says from behind you. You turn around and look up at him. He smiles at you and it’s gentle, almost reassuring. But you don’t return it. Sebastian wraps his muscly arms around you and picks you up with ease.

Ransom’s cock slips from your folds with ease, and cum drips from your filled up pussy. White stickiness drips down your slightly sweaty thighs and it makes you feel so conscience-stricken. Unlike every other time — like when you were sucking off Lee and Steve, or getting fucked by Ransom and Bucky or Charles and Andy — you’re now standing up. It’s weird, a funny feeling that might take you a few seconds to get used to.

Chris comes up to you and he has a menacing stance. He cups your face with his soft yet slightly coarse hands. You flinch, scared that he’ll slap you the way Ransom did beforehand. Luckily, he doesn’t. “Aw, you’re scared, aren’t you?” Chris asks you, rubbing your top lip with his thumb. You hesitatingly nod. “Don’t be. The only thing you should be scared of is us destroying your holes… And by the looks of it, it seems like we already have.” He chuckles in a mocking manner.

You gulp thickly and try to ignore the newfound wetness that is pooling in your core. Along with it is a fire that doesn’t seem to be put out yet. Sebastian’s hands move from your waist to your back, and then to your hips. His movements are gentle and soft, almost as if his intentions hold no malice. But the truth is a complete contrast to what he’s trying to imply.

He spins you around in one swift movement and your world tilts on its axis for a brief moment. You grip his biceps as you try to get a hold of yourself. “Wanna see this pretty face while I fuck you into oblivion.” He mumbles under his breath, and you can feel Chris’s hands running all over your hurting ass. “And I wanna see this ass while I fuck it.” Chris chuckles in your ear once again.

He lands a spank onto your ass, watching the skin ripple in such a marvellous way he swears he’ll never see a girl as pretty as you. Sebastian lifts you up and on instinct, you wrap your legs around his waist. You can feel Sebastian’s cock right near your beaten up, cum-filled entrance. Then, you feel Chris’s tip at your other entrance.

They both thrust into you at once, and a loud squelching noise fills the room. “That cunt is so filled up…” Steve comments from the side, slowly jerking his cock off. You squeeze your eyes shut at his words, and try to block them out. Sebastian lets out a choked moan, whereas Chris groans lowly in your ear.

They both hold you up by your ass, and they start to thrust into you hard and fast. Your head lols back onto Chris’s shoulder and you can barely keep up with them. Sebastian’s hips buck up to your pussy and his cockhead slams into your cervix. “Ow…” You whine, before biting down on your lip. Your lipstick is smeared and your makeup is all ruined, but that seems to be the last thing on your mind.

You’re so fucking sensitive, it’s practically hilarious. Your little body has reached its limit... but maybe your body has no limit anymore. “Shh, just give up, babydoll. You’re doing so good, letting us use you.” Sebastian praises as he delivers a nice, harsh thrust. Chris ruts into you like no tomorrow, treating you like the fleshlight you are.

“Yeah– You love getting used. Bet your boyfriend couldn’t fuck you like this, couldn’t make you feel this good. He probably didn’t know how much of a slut you are.” Chris whispers in your ear whilst he grinds his cock into you. Both of their cocks are covered in cum, but they don’t mind. “These holes belong to us, right? All ours, ready to be used anytime.” Mr. Evans adds.

His slightly greying beard scratches your skin, right where Ransom was choking you. He places a few kisses on your bruising, hurting neck. Your hardened nipples rub against Sebastian’s sweaty chest, and your bulging abdomen touches his, too. “It’s… ‘S too much..” You complain in a dragged out, pathetic whine that turns into a moan. “Oh, it’s too much? Poor baby… Do you want us to slow down?” Chris asks, bringing his thrusts to a halt.

You nod before you start begging because you know they want the cherry on top. “Yes, please. Please, Sir, please slow down.” You ask them politely. You even flash your signature puppy dog eyes, hoping they haven’t gone out of style yet. They both coo at you, before smirking at each other. You shut your eyes and sigh, but your eyelids fly back open when you feel Sebastian and Chris starting to fuck you even harder.

“Too bad,” Sebastian grunts. “You’re going to take whatever the fuck we give you.” He sneers, and you can feel that pressure in your stomach beginning to increase. But it’s too much, more than you can handle. You shake your head and beg them to stop, but your pleas are silenced when Chris wraps his hand around your throat.

Every word that’s in your mouth dies down, and the only thing that comes from you are your moans and whimpers. “You’re gonna come, aren’t you? Just can’t help it, it feels too fucking good, doesn’t it? Do it, come all over our cocks right fucking now.” Sebastian growls as your moans become louder and your grip on their cocks grow tighter.

Your legs are shaking as you come undone. Your hands curl into fists and your eyes shut as they roll back. Your wet walls gush around their thick, long cocks and they continue to fuck you until you’re babbling like a dumb little baby. “Fuck…” Chris curses under his breath, his thrusts becoming sloppy. It’s the same for Sebastian, and inside you’re elated.

Finally, finally, it’s all over.

They both pull out and you’re all but confused. They set you on the ground and you can barely stand without holding on to either Chris or Sebastian. Lee chuckles, and you shut your eyes in embarrassment. “Oh, don’t be like that.” Ransom sasses from Lee’s left side. He’s right. These men just put you through hell, and that’s what you’re going to be embarrassed about?

Pathetic.

Sebastian pushes you to your knees and you fall with a muffled thud. Once again, the carpet digs into your knees but this time it isn’t as painful. You look up, and you’re suddenly surrounded by everyone. Mr. Stan, Mr. Barnes, Mr. Bodecker, Mr. Blackwood, Mr. Evans, Mr. Rogers, Mr. Drysdale, and Mr. Barber… You’re not sure whether you should look at any of them in the eyes or not.

Truthfully, you’re not sure what to do. Should you run? Scream? Fight? Stay put? Millions of thoughts run through your mind but none of them seem to fully register. Everyone’s dominant hands are on their cocks, moving up and down at a rather fast pace. Chris and Sebastian fuck their hands even faster, eager to meet their climaxes.

Their moans and groans go straight to your wet pussy, fueling certain feelings you had been trying to push down all night. “Fuck, yes…” Chris moans coarsely. His balls tighten up and his red tip lets out spurts of cum. He paints your face and you nearly gag out of disgust. “You look even prettier with– with your face painted like that.” Lee groans, and he comes too. “Open up.” He orders in a creepy sing-song voice.

You listen to him obediently, and you haven’t noticed that the alcohol in your system has dissipated. His cum shoots straight into your mouth, his signature taste of muskiness and salt spreading across your tongue. After a few more seconds, Chris finally stops. He admires the way your face is covered in cum — his cum, to be exact. “C’mon, swallow it all like the good slut you are.” Sebastian urges, and his streaks of stickiness begin to shoot from his tip, too.

He paints your chest, almost like it’s a canvas. As much as you hate to admit it, this all turns you on even more. You can feel your wetness leaking from your cunt. Lee’s finger drags through the cum that’s on your face and he scoops some of it up. He pushes his finger into your mouth and shakes his head when he learns you haven’t swallowed his seed yet.

His frown is enough for you to listen. You swallow with difficulty, which comes from his digit. Your tongue laps up the cum on his finger and he smiles down at you. He pulls his finger out with a ‘pop’ and your legs are being spread again. You know for a fact you can’t take anything more, but you also know that they probably don’t care.

Ransom aims for your cunt, Steve too. They both come at the same time, loud moans escaping past their plump lips. More cum joins the gratuitous amount that’s already there. Once they stop moaning and they stop coming, you’re turned over onto your stomach. You already know that the carpet is probably a mess that dry cleaning might not accept.

Bucky and Charles cover your ass in ropes of their seed, and your messy chest presses into the ground. There’s more cum on you and in you than there is dignity. “Fuck, I wish my phone wasn’t dead. I would’ve taken so many lovely pictures of our masterpiece here.” Bucky groans, and he continues to give his cock a few more strokes just to lengthen his orgasm.

Andy is the last, only because he has patience for things like this. He paints your back like he’s Monet, or maybe even Da Vinci. Sebastian kneels down in front of you and picks your head up from off the ground. His thumb smears the cum on your face into your skin, and you don’t even have the energy to ask them if it’s all over. He chuckles, before standing back up again.

“Looks like you really were a good girl this year.”

[tyonfs]

home alone with you (preview)

❝ there are criminals in the house, jisung! there’s no time to feed the cat! ❞

PAIRING ▸ park jisung x fem!reader (ft. yumark robbing your house)

GENRES ▸ fluff, crack, friends to lovers, home alone au, rich kid au

WARNINGS ▸ low iq, mild violence but for comedic purposes, seemingly unrequited love but it’s actually requited they’re both just stupid

SUMMARY ▸ a vacation with your family and the parks goes haywire when you and jisung are accidentally left behind at your house. all you wanted to do was confess your feelings to park jisung on christmas, but in an unfortunate turn of events, you have to deal with your cowardly best friend and two crooks trying to rob your home.

PLAYLIST ▸ all i want for christmas is you by mariah carey • christmassy! by the boyz

RELEASE DATE ▸ TBA (hopefully around jisung day!)

WORD COUNT ▸ around 5k words

TAG LIST ▸ @infnteen @jaehy9ngs @ridinhyuck @chubbsdabunny @fightmegirl @kiri-ah @prettyjaems @honeyju @neo-stay @kariskwn @marknolee @tacojisung @choerriesmotion

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ hello! this is sort of a late christmas present because inspiration struck out of the blue last night when i was watching the movie. send me an ask if you wanna be added to the tag list !! the preview is a shortened version and may be changed up in the final version btw!

IT WASN’T LIKE YOU WERE EVER NEGLECTED BY YOUR PARENTS OR ANYTHING, SO THIS WAS ABSURD TO YOU.

Forgetting one kid was one matter, but forgetting two? You wondered if you had the rights to never let your parents or Jisung’s parents live this royal fuck-up down.

Rather than being angry, you found this whole situation hilarious and slightly offended that your parents didn’t think to check if you were there during the car ride to the airport. Maybe they were stressed and trying to micromanage all of your cousins and your younger siblings, but you didn’t think you were that easy to miss. Hopefully, they had realized by now and were reflecting on their actions, but now you had to deal with being alone in your house with your best friend.

“Jisung,” you whispered harshly. When he didn’t stir, you resorted to throwing a pillow at him. “Park Jisung!”

Jisung groaned, pulling his blanket over him and shifting on the air mattress. “Five more minutes.”

Frustrated, you threw another pillow at him. “Jisung, everyone’s gone.”

He shot up in place, rubbing the sleep from his eyes promptly. “Gone? You’re joking, right?” He hauled himself up and stretched out his back. “Don’t scare me like that, Y/N.”

“Jisung,” you said, eyes sharp as you turned your laptop for him to see. “They’re not in the house and the flight left thirty minutes ago. They left us behind.”

Jisung boggled at the screen, kneeling down to get a better look. “No.” His jaw hung open while he stared at the pixelated flight moving across the world map. “Shut the fuck up. Tell me this is some sick joke.”

“I’ve tried calling them but it keeps going to voicemail,” you said, shutting your laptop. “We’re screwed, Jisung.”

“What do we do?” Jisung asked solemnly and then flinched at the sound of the doorbell. “Is that them?” he asked, looking like a dog who had just been given a treat.

“If it was, they wouldn’t need to ring the doorbell.” You pushed yourself off of your bed and made your way to the front door. “Come on.”

Jisung followed behind you, looking a bit wary of whoever was ringing your door. You looked through the peephole to see a man in a police uniform and furrowed your brows. Did your parents call them to inform you that they would be back soon? You opened the door, looking up at the policeman who started looking around your home before he looked at you.

“Um, can I help you?” you asked.

The man flashed a seemingly trustworthy smile but it just made you suspicious. “Just making sure everyone’s staying safe this Christmas with all of those robberies happening around the neighborhood,” he said. “Say, kid, where are your parents?”

Jisung scoffed from behind you. “Left us—”

You elbowed him sharply in the gut, rousing a wince from him. “They’ll be back, officer,” you replied. “They’re out buying Christmas decorations.”

“On Christmas Eve? A bit late for that, huh?”

“Well, late’s better than never!” you chirped, hand firmly on the doorknob. “Happy holidays then, officer.”

After he returned the greeting, you closed the door and locked it. You stared down at the doorknob for a second and then put the chain lock on as well, a small frown crossing your lips. Jisung took notice immediately and placed his hand on your shoulder, squeezing it gently.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” you admitted, “I just got a weird vibe from that guy.”

Jisung shrugged. “Well, we’re safe in your house and our parents are landing late afternoon so we just need to wait until then to hear from them.”

“You’re right, you’re right,” you breathed out, relaxing your nerves.

You couldn’t help but feel guilty for finding this situation to be perfect. If you and Jisung were stuck at your house alone, it made for the perfect opportunity for you to tell him how you felt about him tomorrow. There would be no distractions, no annoying siblings, and no overbearing parents.

“Y/N,” Jisung started, a grin tugging at his lips, “you know what this means, right?”

“We can do whatever we want?”

“Exactly.”

“Yuta, that plan of yours to dress up like a police officer was genius!” Mark praised, looking absolutely elated as he watched the crook take off the fake badge.

“Leave it to a few rich kids to blindly trust the police,” Yuta remarked with a cocky smirk. “And, Mark, get this: they’re alone in there.”

“Alone?”

“Yeah, their parents are gone,” Yuta explained. “The boy gave it away but the girl was trying to cover for him, so I’m thinking we should rob them tonight while their parents are out.”

Mark looked uneasy but nodded along. “Is it really okay for us to just break in with them inside?”

Yuta rolled his eyes, pulling his unmarked van out of their parking lot and onto the road. He tapped his fingers against the steering wheel as he drove out of the neighborhood. He knew better than most that the people in this neighborhood only cared about themselves. They wouldn’t waste their breath if they noticed something suspicious going on.

“Trust me, Mark,” Yuta said. “It’s a piece of cake to get past kids like them.”

[thegirlonpeetamellark]

Christmas Break - Part 1

Surprise!! After a looong time away Court returns to Everlark fic world with a little holiday treat for everyone  - enjoy! :)

Hi everyone. So 2020 has sucked. For me, the beginning of quarantine was actually a bit of a gift. Being home gave me the gift of time, something I haven’t had much of as my daughters (who were very little when I started writing in this fandom) have gotten older. While I never stopped writing, it was a struggle to find long enough chunks of time to get into a flow. I started writing again with earnest. Not all of it was my fanfiction; some of it was my original work. El keeps me posted on the humbling and kind asks she gets about my writing. I felt bad that despite my increased writing, I still wasn’t ready to update any WIPs. But I did remember a story I had started for the final holiday PiP that I was never able to get past the first page (due to lack of time that year) and to my surprise, it started flowing. I had every intention of finishing it and having El post it as a gift to this fandom. But once my school went “back” in October and hybrid learning started, that was it. My time was gone. And further, my family experienced the very sudden and non-Covid-related death of my aunt. So while I have nearly half of this story written, it’s not done. But it will be, very soon, since it is a one-shot. As with all my stories, it took on a life of its own and it needs more love. So what I have for the readers who have loyally followed me is the first part, the part that involves Christmas. It’s my hope to have a second part posted in a week or two, so that by the time that part posts, a final part is nearly done. 

Thank you for your asks and your patience, and thank you to El, one of my favorite people in this world and the best thing my time in this fandom has given me. Thank you for your encouragement. Our friendship means the world to me. 

Here’s to a better 2021. Love to you all. Court

Christmas Break

Fuck, not again, Peeta grouses as the opening notes of that insidious Mariah Carey song pipe through the loudspeaker. That’s the third time in the last two hours. He’s all for holiday spirit, but if he never hears this fucking song again it will be too soon.

Leaning his forehead against the cold pane of glass, he peers out of the fourth-story window into the darkened sky. When he had arrived at work a few hours ago, the snow had just been starting to fall; a slow, lazy tumble of flakes. Now it’s coming down in a tumultuous swirl. It figures Panem would finally see a white Christmas his first Christmas Eve on rotation in the emergency room. No doubt the weather is partially to blame for the crush of bodies crowding the waiting room tonight. 

Peeta walks away from the window and opens the cabinet where he stashes his Clif bars. The economy-sized box looks suspiciously closer to empty than it did the other day. He’s heard complaints from other doctors and nurses that snacks are pilfered on a regular basis and was warned to label his own boxes. But he had forgone the warnings. If someone needed an energy bar badly enough to steal one, what was the $20 he had spent on them at Costco. He snags one and unwraps it. 

He’s just raised it to his mouth when his Apple watch pings and his silenced cell phone pulses insistently against his thigh. Heaving a loud sigh, he sets down the energy bar and withdraws the phone from his pocket. 

“Mom, you’ve got exactly 60 seconds,” he grits out. He doesn’t even need to look at the screen to confirm it’s her. She’s called twice already tonight, calls he’s ignored with good reason, but somehow his mother thinks a phone call from her trumps any actual emergencies her doctor son could be dealing with. Which, tonight, have been nonstop since his shift began at six. 

“Please tell me you ate something,” she begins. 

“I was just about to, when you called,” he replies. “I’ve only got a couple of minutes. It’s been utter chaos for the last four hours.” 

“We missed you at dinner. I can’t remember the last Christmas Eve when I didn’t have all three of my boys together.” Peeta closes his eyes. All these years my mother has been gushing about having a doctor in the family, and yet she never stopped to consider the ramifications of actually having a doctor in the family, he thinks. Particularly its impact on holiday gatherings. She obviously hadn’t learned anything from this past Thanksgiving, as now, just a month later, she’s already dumping a fresh guilt trip on him for missing another family dinner.

She continues, “And Jackson and Maxwell were just devastated when they heard you weren’t coming, until I assured them they’d see you tomorrow. We will see you tomorrow, yes?” 

Peeta suppresses another exasperated sigh and breaks off a chunk of the Clif bar. “Yes, Mom, I’ll be there.” And though it’s childish, he crams the bar into his mouth and mumbles around it, “I wouldn’t miss it for anything.” His chewing masks the sarcasm that weighs down the words. 

“Excellent. We need an updated family portrait before Everly and Rye have to leave for her parents’ house.” Placated, his mother moves to ends the call, but not before getting in a less-than-subtle comment about how much she adores his brother Rye’s fiancée and how happy she is Rye is settling down. 

Staring at the disconnected call flashing on the screen, Peeta tries not to let the remark get to him. Mostly because he knows it’s a lie. His mother has complained more than once about Everly and how she’s not good enough for Rye. Peeta knows the dig was directed at him. He hasn’t truly had a serious girlfriend since junior year of college; just a few casual relationships that barely qualified as relationships. He doesn’t know how his mother expects him to meet someone with the hours he keeps. And his father, for as close as they are, never seems willing to jump to Peeta’s defense. 

Taking a deep breath to let his irritation suffuse, he jams his phone back in his pocket and scarfs down the rest of his pathetic dinner. All three bites of it. Then he uses the restroom, dutifully washes his hand, and stalks out of the staff lounge, his short break over.

As he strides up the corridor, he hears loud shouting coming from the ER waiting room. 

“…should be asleep in her bed, waiting for Santa Claus to come, but instead, we’re still here waiting for someone to take a look at her arm! It’s been over two hours! Don’t you people have any compassion? Or is Ebenezer Freaking Scrooge running this place tonight?”

Curious, Peeta veers towards the reception desk, where his eyes land on the ranting woman. She’s young, probably no older than her mid-twenties, and in spite of the fact that her dark hair is spilling out of a messy braid and she’s not wearing any makeup, Peeta is immediately struck by her beauty. The rosy flush to her cheeks from her tirade actually makes her even prettier. She’s cradling a toddler and protectively shielding the little girl’s right arm. The toddler’s blonde head rests on her mother’s shoulder, her thumb wedged into her tiny pink mouth. Her left arm clutches a stuffed orange cat. She looks tired. Actually, both mother and daughter do. 

“Miss, I understand your frustration, I really do,” the receptionist says calmly, her eyes cutting to Peeta as he stops by her side. He reads the name on the file on top of the stack, the next patient scheduled to be seen: MCMURPHY, JOSEPH. Clearly not the little girl in front of him. 

“I don’t think you do!” the young mother cries, her eyes flashing steel. “She’s three, she’s in pain, and she’s scared. And what’s more, I’ve seen at least five people go ahead of us who came in after us!” 

“That’s not how the emergency room works, miss,” the receptionist replies. She drums her fingertips on the desk, offering the young mother a tight smile. 

“It’s Christmas Eve,” the young mother adds, an edge of desperation creeping into her tone. Discreetly, Peeta moves around the receptionist’s chair, scanning the desktop until he spies the stack of files for the patients awaiting admission. While the receptionist continues to give the young mother the run-around, he thumbs through the stack, searching. His eyes land on what he’s looking for: a date of birth. His lips tip up. Bingo. This has to be it: HAWTHORNE, IVY ANN. 

At the exact second his hand snatches Ivy’s file from the pile and slips the other one in amongst the stack, the young mother’s eyes lock on his. Her gaze narrows. He can see the exhaustion all over her beautiful face. Her full lips twitch, her countenance suspicious as they stare at one another. 

“Ivy Hawthorne?” Peeta taps the file he had extricated. An immediate flicker of relief lights the young mother’s mercury eyes, and that lush mouth breaks into a grateful, relieved smile. The receptionist’s neck snaps up. “I’ve got this,” he adds, his tone leaving no room for her to argue with him. It’s not protocol for Peeta to take a patient directly, but it’s also not blatantly against the rules. Sure, it might mean a little more work for him, but if it means he can get this little girl home sooner on Christmas Eve, it’s worth it.

He smiles at the little girl. “Ivy, I’m Doctor Mellark. I’m going to help make you feel better, okay?” She nods once but doesn’t lift her head from her mother’s shoulder. Peeta’s arm sweeps to the side, ushering the young mother and Ivy past the desk. He scans the hallway and spies a partially drawn curtain halfway up the corridor. He leads them to the available partition and close the curtain behind them. As he turns to face them, he nearly slams into the woman. She hasn’t moved, and her luminous grey eyes fasten to his. She looks as if she’s going to say something, but several seconds pass and she’s still quiet, still watching him. The silence starts to become uncomfortable. Peeta clears his throat.  

“If you’d have a seat, please, Mrs. Hawthorne. You can hold her while I get some more information from you.” 

The young woman’s lips part slightly, again appearing as if she wants to say something, but instead she shuffles forward and Peeta waits while she settles on the edge of the hospital bed, gingerly adjusting Ivy so she’s sitting sideways across her mother’s lap. 

Peeta sinks down onto the stool and scoots towards the edge of the bed. This close he has a much better look at Ivy’s mother. She really is a beautiful young woman, and given how adorable Ivy is Peeta assumes her husband is probably also very attractive. He feels a twinge of jealousy. Lucky bastard. Pretty wife, cute kid…probably has a nice little house and a golden retriever too. Living the dream. His dream, if he allows himself to admit it to anyone but his mother. If he was being perfectly honest, he had always envisioned himself married by now. 

“How old are you, Ivy?” he ask, even though he knows from her chart and her mother’s declaration that she’s three years old. She hesitates, and still clutching the stuffed cat, manages to display three fingers. Peeta smiles at her again.

“I have a nephew who is the exact same age as you are. He told me just last week that he’s a big boy now. Are you a big girl, Ivy?” He keeps his tone gentle, hoping it will put her at ease with him. She nods, her big blue eyes lightening imperceptibly. “I thought so. Can you be a big girl and tell me what happened to your arm?” 

Her mother answers automatically, “She fell. I was only gone—” Peeta holds up his palm. He has the triage nurse’s initial assessment, so he knows Ivy’s arm is likely broken. What he doesn’t know is how the arm got broken. And those details he needs to try to get from Ivy herself. Kids her age always tell the truth when it comes to how they were injured, and unfortunately it’s part of Peeta’s job to make sure there isn’t a more sinister reason she’s in the E.R. tonight, no matter how sweet and innocent her mother appears. He’s already had a few encounters with suspected child abuse, though his gut tells him that isn’t the case with Ivy Hawthorne.

“Please. I would like Ivy to tell me how it happened.” 

Something dangerous flints in Ivy’s mother’s now stormy grey eyes.

“She. Fell.” The words are curt, enunciated coolly, but her voice is soft and Peeta can tell she’s keeping her temper in check for the benefit of her daughter. Eyes still pinned to his, she inhales deeply. A second later, her shoulders relax. “Go ahead and tell the nice doctor how you hurt your arm,” she whispers, stroking Ivy’s curls. 

“I was trying to see Santa,” Ivy replies, her tongue tripping in a lisp on the “S’s.” 

“What do you mean by that?” he prompts her. 

Ivy scrunches up her button nose. “I was trying to see up the chimney. ‘Cause the chimney at Aunt Katniss’s house is so skinny and Santa Claus is real fat and I don’t know how he’s gonna fit down it to bring me my presents!” Her blue eyes brim with tears and her lower lip starts to tremble. Peeta reaches over and pats her knee. 

“I wouldn’t worry about that, sweetheart. Santa Claus is magic. He’ll get you your presents, no matter what the chimney looks like.” He exchanges a look with her mother. 

“It was all my fault,” she says quietly. “I went in the kitchen, to get the cookies and milk—”

“And the carrots! For Rudolph and the other reindeer!” Ivy chimes in, her eyes shiny wet. 

“I never should have left her alone, not even for a second. This is my fault. It’s my fault. She wouldn’t have slipped and fallen off the hearth if I had been watching her.” Guilt chokes her words, and it sounds as if she’s close to tears. 

“Accidents happen, Mrs. Hawthorne,” Peeta says empathetically, “that’s why there are emergency rooms.” She presses her lips together, her brows knitting.  

“It’s Everdeen,” she says quietly. Peeta drops his eyes to Ivy’s chart, and furrows his brows, his gaze wandering to the young woman’s left hand. No ring. A brief thrill curls through him at the thought that she’s single. Asshole, he immediately chides himself. So not what you should be thinking about right now. He scans the chart more carefully and shakes his head.

“I’m sorry,” he begins, “but this lists Primrose Hawthorne as the mother, under the Parent/Guardian information, and a Rory Hawthorne as the father. I just assumed—”

She cuts him off. “Primrose Hawthorne was her mother. But I’m not Primrose Hawthorne. I’m Katniss. Katniss Everdeen. I’m her aunt. I should be listed as her primary emergency contact.” She swallows and squeezes her eyes shut briefly. When she opens them, they plead with his. Peeta glances down at Ivy, and then raises his eyes to Katniss again. The guilt that was clouding those silver irises a moment ago has dissipated, replaced with anguish. He doesn’t know what the full story is here, but he didn’t miss Katniss’s usage of the past tense in referring to Ivy’s mother. So he honors her silent appeal not to ask questions.

“Okay, Ivy, you fell, and you landed on your arm? I bet that hurt,” Peeta says to the little girl, but his gaze stays fastens on Katniss. She gives him the faintest smile and mouths, “Thank you.”

~*~*~*~

An hour later, the orthopedist informs Peeta that Ivy Hawthorne is ready for his approval to be discharged. Not wanting to keep her and her aunt waiting any later than necessary, he sets down the X-ray he had been studying, and heads back to where Ivy is. 

Standing outside the curtain, he hears quiet singing. He draws back the curtain and sees Katniss seated on the bed, with Ivy nestled in her lap. A bright pink cast safely cocoons the girl’s arm. Her blonde head rests on Katniss’s shoulder. Her eyes are closed, and her little body rises and falls with the deep breathing of sleep. 

Katniss continues to sing, unaware of Peeta’s presence. He doesn’t recognize the tune she’s singing. It’s not a Christmas carol, at least not one he’s ever heard before, but he continues to listen, captivated by her voice. It’s soft and decidedly feminine, but there’s raspy undercurrent to it that gives him chills. It’s like the first sip of a rich, smoky bourbon.

Gingerly, he tiptoes towards the bed and stands before her for several more minutes, until Katniss finally lifts her eyes. She immediately stops singing. Peeta smiles and nods towards Ivy.

“Someone is worn out,” he whispers. Katniss’s lips twitch into a chagrinned smile. 

“I’m sure the second we get home she’ll be wide awake and it’ll take forever to get her into bed. She was already amped up about Santa Claus before this.” She tips her head and gestures with her chin towards Ivy’s arm. 

“Warm milk. With a little bit of cinnamon,” he suggests. 

“Really?” Her eyes round. “Cinnamon? That really works?” Disbelief clouds her words. He shrugs sheepishly.

“I have no idea. No kids. And I’ve never had much trouble sleeping. I’m usually asleep the minute my head hits the pillow. But I’ve heard from a friend with a toddler that it does the trick.” He waits for her to say something—anything—in response, but she doesn’t. Her gaze is back on the sleeping toddler in her arms. 

Watching her stare tenderly at her niece causes something unexpected to claw at Peeta’s chest and he’s overwhelmed by a fierce compulsion to want to keep her here, to get to know more about her. It’s been a long time since he felt this kind of instant attraction to a woman. Why couldn’t he have met her under different circumstances? 

“Are we all done, doctor?” 

Peeta startles from his thoughts and offers Katniss an apologetic smile.

“Yes, sorry. You are good to go as soon as you sign here—” He holds the clipboard at an angle, to allow her to sign without having to disturb Ivy, “and here.” He flips the sheet back to the second page and she scrawls her name across the line there, too. Normally a nurse would go over discharge papers and protocol with patients, but Peeta had taken it upon himself to grab Ivy’s. He needed to spend every possible minute in Katniss’s presence. 

Once the release forms are complete, he review the plan for Ivy’s follow-up care, including how to manage any pain she has and when she’ll need to return to have the cast removed. Katniss listens attentively. 

When he’s finished, she stands up slowly, her movements tentative so as not to jostle Ivy. A sigh parts the little girl’s lips and she stirs, but she remains asleep. God, she’s cute, Peeta thinks. 

“Thank you, Dr. Mellark,” Katniss says softly. “For everything. I know what you did…” She falters. “I mean, I know we, ah, weren’t next, and ah…” Peeta waves a hand dismissively, sensing her discomfort with his hijacking of the queued patients.  

“It was my pleasure,” he replies. “Little girls should be home on Christmas Eve. Waiting for Santa.” He echoes Katniss’s earlier words. “I hope he’s good to her.” 

He doesn’t miss the forlorn expression that flits across Katniss’s face as she glances down at her sleeping niece. 

“He can’t bring her what she wants most, but he’ll try,” she murmurs and moves towards the open curtain. Just before she steps out into the hall, she pauses and turns to face Peeta.

“Merry Christmas,” she adds.  

“Merry Christmas,” he concurs. With a faint smile, she steps around the curtain. It rustles in her wake and resettles. Peeta exhales and slumps against the wall, regret washing through him, followed by a stronger wave of sadness at seeing Katniss go. If it hadn’t been for Ivy, he might have concocted some kind of delay to keep Katniss here longer, found some excuse to pry more information out of her. Like if she’s single. A surge of adrenaline spikes in his blood. He can’t let her go this easily.

He bolts out into the corridor, scanning the bustling hallway for any sign of Katniss and Ivy, but they’ve vanished. Disappointed, his shoulders slump as he trudges towards the nurses’ station to hand off Ivy’s file. 

It’s probably best, a nagging little voice inside him taunts, and he reluctantly concedes that it probably is. As much as he’d love to finally shut his mother up and find a woman that he’d want to spend more than a night with, it’s not fair to subject one to the kind of schedule he has to keep. New doctors are low-man-on-the-totem-pole. He’s had mostly graveyard shifts and he’s often on call. It’s his dream to have a pediatric practice, but he’s well aware that he’ll have to toil for a couple of years to get on track to make that dream a reality. 

A few minutes later, en route to his next examination, Peeta spies Johanna, one of the triage nurses, coming out of the room Ivy had occupied. His eyes immediately narrow when his gaze lands on her left arm.

“Was that in there?” He motions towards the vacated room and then nods towards the stuffed cat Johanna has wedged under her armpit. 

“What, the cat? Yeah. It must have fallen under the bed. I’ll take it to the station, in case someone comes back to claim it.” 

Ivy’s cherubic little face flashes in Peeta’s mind. He remember how fiercely she had been clutching that cat, and how she had reluctantly agreed to put it down when it had been time for Delly, another one of the triage nurses, to take her for X-rays. 

Peeta’s pulse quickens and he immediately thrusts his hand towards Johanna. “I’ll take it,” he says impulsively. She wrinkles her nose and cocks her head, her hazel eyes intensely scrutinizing him. Though they have a casual friendship, Johanna is far too insightful for her own good. Peeta doesn’t really need her questioning his motives for taking possession of the toy. 

“The little girl it belongs to goes to preschool with Max. I’ll make sure he takes it to her after the holiday break.” Fuck, that lie flew off his tongue so easily he almost believes it himself. Johanna shrugs and tosses Peeta the cat. 

“Suit yourself. One less thing to overflow the Lost and Found.” She strides past him and disappears into Triage 6. He stares down at the stuffed animal. His heart skips another beat and a slow smile tugs at his mouth. 

~*~*~*~

Stifling another yawn, Peeta squints at the numbers above the garage. He’s definitely in the right place. He kills the engine and sits for a moment, glancing at the clock on the navigation system. It’s quarter after nine. Early, but not obscenely so. When his shift had ended at six am, he had driven home and fought the urge to crawl into bed; instead, he grabbed a quick shower and freshened up. True, part of him hadn’t wanted to see Katniss Everdeen again looking like the bedraggled, exhausted mess he was at the end of a rotation, and also true, he was going to have to clean up before he’s due at his parents’ house at one. But he also knew he couldn’t really have shown up at Katniss’s house at the crack of dawn on Christmas morning, even if he suspects Ivy likely had her up by then. He recalls, with a wistful smile, that Christmas morning was the one morning he and his brothers were always awake before his father. It was only a question of which Mellark brother was going to be the first to rouse the others. Him being the youngest, it was usually him, he admits with a wider grin.

He quietly exits his car, careful not to slam the door, and gingerly steps across the icy driveway. He pauses at the un-shoveled front walk, where a pristine blanket of snow blocks his path. “Shit,” he whispers, gritting his teeth as he takes the first step. His foot plunges into the deep drift, up to nearly his calf. He braces himself and takes a huge step, hoping to eat up the distance in a few long strides. Fortunately, it’s not a long front walk. He reaches the also un-shoveled front steps and carefully ascends them. He contemplates ringing the doorbell, but instead raps his knuckles against the door. His breath pipes out in white plumes and he rubs his palms together for warmth as he waits. 

No one comes to the door, at least not immediately. Peeta lifts his fist again, but just before his knuckles can connect with the wood again, the front door opens a crack and he’s suddenly looking at Katniss. Those silver eyes round almost comically as recognition lights them. 

“D-Doctor Mellark? Wh-what are you….”  

“Hi. Merry Christmas,” he begins. “I thought Ivy would be missing this.” He smiles and holds up the stuffed cat. 

Katniss stares at him, her lips parting faintly, and shock and confusion war on her pretty face. But then her grey eyes darken with what Peeta can only describe as restrained fury. 

She opens the door fully and glares at him.  

“You had Ivy’s cat?” she accuses. 

“Uh…yeah…” he stammers, his own confusion welling. Why is she so angry? “My nephew…he has a bear. Otis. Can’t sleep without that thing. I thought if Ivy is anything like Max…well, she’d be missing this.” He holds the cat out to Katniss. She snatches it so violently that she stumbles backwards. Peeta is equally jarred, but his jolt is from the very brief brush of Katniss’s fingers against his when she had grabbed the toy. 

But Katniss gives him no time to revel in the feeling.

“So this is why no one at the hospital had a goddamned clue what I was talking about when I called there looking for this cat an hour ago!” she spits. 

Shit, Peeta thinks, an uneasy feeling clawing its way into his gut. 

“Why the fuck—” He can’t help but notice her slight hesitation before she lobs the obscenity at him. “—would you take my niece’s cat? Is this something normal people do?” She’s shivering visibly as she rants, a clear consequence of stepping onto her front porch wearing nothing but green plaid pajama pants and a threadbare black Henley shirt.

“I….I…” He shakes his head. He’s not even sure how to defend his actions. He can’t very well tell her his ulterior motives in bringing the stuffed cat back to her niece. Not now. He definitely fucked this up.

“I was just trying to be nice. That I’d save you a trip on Christmas morning,” he finishes lamely. 

Katniss’s nostrils flare and her jaw flexes. “Christmas morning,” she mutters, just barely audible over the clattering of her teeth. “Did it occur to you, Dr. Mellark, that I might be looking for Ivy’s cat and I might call the hospital looking for this cat?” She shakes the toy in his face. “And did it occur to you that, in spite of all the toys she had just opened, Ivy might be bawling and throwing a fit because Buttercup was missing?”

Buttercup, he has to assume, is the stuffed cat.

She pauses, as if waiting for him to defend himself, but all he can do is swallow against the lump crowding his throat.

So she continues, “They made me think I was crazy—but not until after they left me on hold for 20 minutes while I tried to calm a wailing toddler. And then they said there was no toy matching this description in the Lost and Found. And that’s because you had it!” Her eyes are a maelstrom now, but he notices that an edge of frustration has crept into her furious tone. 

“And now Ivy doesn’t have it. So thank you. Thank you very much, Dr. Mellark. Merry Christmas.” And before Peeta can release the breath he’s been holding during her outburst and plead his case, she whirls around, her disheveled braid lancing through the air like a whip, and slams the door behind her. Stunned, Peeta can only stare at the wreath on the door as he processes what just happened.  

What. The. Fuck. 

Heart pounding, gut churning, Peeta retreats to his car. He takes a few minutes to absorb the shock of his encounter with Katniss, his mind reeling through the accusations she made. He never would have expected her to react like this. So much for any shot with Katniss Everdeen. 

He finally gathers his composure and navigates out of her complex. As he drives, his mind continues replaying Katniss’s words over and over, and he finds one thing nags at him. 

And now Ivy doesn’t have it.

Those words don’t make much sense to him. He just gave the stuffed animal back to Katniss. She can give it back to Ivy. She’ll have it now. In her wrath, Katniss just wasn’t being rational, he decides. 

But her words continue to haunt him off and on for the rest of the day. Along with persistent images of Katniss that further torment him. She is never far from his conscious thoughts. As he sits down next to the fireplace in his parents’ house with a tumbler of scotch to exchange gifts with his brothers and his nephews, he finds himself wondering who Katniss is celebrating with. Ivy, obviously. But does she have other family? 

By the time the Mellarks all settle around the table for dinner, he’s conjured up the notion that Katniss may not be married, but she surely has a devoted boyfriend who is showering her with gifts at this very moment. Her mood is infinitely better than what Peeta witnessed earlier. She’s probably dressed nice for him, and he’s sitting around her dining room table with Katniss and Ivy, like a makeshift family.

His mother’s irritation is palpable when she has to command his attention twice to try and draw him into the discussion centered on Rye’s upcoming wedding. Peeta murmurs the apology he knows she expects and feigns his dutiful brotherly interest for Rye’s benefit the remainder of the meal. But a dull ache has taken up residence in the center of his chest and he realizes just how badly he wants what his brothers have. 

He just won’t be having it with Katniss Everdeen.

[yyxgin]

🌃 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 || 𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐣𝐢𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐠

☆ han jisung x fem! reader ☆

☆ GENRE: college au, best friends to lovers au, fluff

☆ SUMMARY: There’s only one thing that can help your stressed out mind when you have a week left to finish the most important assignment for your art class of them all, and that is the honey voice of your best friend. What a shame he’s too shy to sing sometimes.

☆ WORDS: 5k 

☆ WARNINGS: swearing and that is it me thinks

You hear the silent melody coming from your best friend sitting on the other side of the couch, quiet hums gradually flowing into coherent words as he mindlessly scrolls through social media on his phone, his low singing filling your empty living room as you take your eyes off your phone and watch him. 

He looks casual, just like always. The army-green hoodie looks about two times his size enveloping his body, the hood thrown over his head to hide his messy hair, sweatpants hiding a little bit of his foot as well as if to make him look extra tiny today. The song coming out of his mouth sounds similar, yet it still sounds new to you when you catch him randomly singing during the day on times when he forgets he doesn't want anyone to hear.

"It cannot wait, I'm yours-" his head snaps up to meet your eyes, immediately shutting up and looking back to his phone screen. 

"No, why'd you stop?" you whine, pouting. His voice is good. Too good, for never getting singing lessons and basically not even trying while he sings. 

"'Cause it sounds bad," he mutters, furrowing his brows.

"It doesn't." you firmly say, desperate to make your best friend believe your words in order to hear him sing more often. For some reason, his singing always managed to bring a sense of comfort into your heart. It felt like the sunlight shining at you in the cold days of winter, sweet and soothing for your freezing heart.

"Yeah, right," his cheeks flash pink, rolling his eyes. 

"You hear me singing all the time and I sound like a dying racoon, I really don't understand why you're so shy about it when you sound like angels coming down to earth to bless us all," you giggle, poking his sides.

He laughs softly at your compliment, shaking his head. This was how it usually went. 

He started singing out of the blue, you stopped everything you were doing just to listen to him, then he realised you became too quiet and stopped in the very second. 

"I wish you sang more. I like your voice," you point out, watching him flash an even deeper shade of pink as he shyly giggles at your confession.

"Sorry to break it to you, but I won't," he shakes his head in disapproval. It annoyed you, how he just never seemed to believe your words.

"But why? You never believe me when I tell you you sound good," you pout, furrowing your eyebrows and throwing your fists in the air in a sense of frustration.

"And that, my dear, is called not believing in yourself." he giggles, making you roll your eyes. 

"I don't get it," you sigh, standing up and moving to the kitchen, "anyways, I am on my way to paint the rest of the assignment I have for my art class, so if you don't want to sing me something, at least put some music on," you yell white putting your empty mug into the sink.

As you walk back to the living room with your art supplies you managed to snatch from the desk where you put them before, you hear the familiar sound of your bluetooth speaker turning on, making you sigh. And that's for your daily dose of Han Jisung's singing. You sit cross-legged at the ground, taking your paint brushes into your hand, hearing the song he decided to put on playing from the speaker. You recognise it being the one he was humming to himself just a few minutes ago, smiling.

"What is the theme anyway?" he asks, genuinely curious.

"Nature," you roll your eyes, not really interested in painting trees the tiniest bit, but having to do it anyway, because you can’t just paint whatever you want and get away with it in your art class.

"So like, trees and stuff?" he teases you, knowing damn well how much you don't like the particular assignment in the first place.

"Trees, mountains, butterflies…" you ironically smile, blobbing a whole lot of green paint onto your palette, grunting, "and I wanted to be chosen for the showcase this year, but I guess we'll have to wait until the theme is not about rocks and rivers." you scoff.

"Oh please, you'll do great anyway," encourages you Jisung, "you can paint well even if it's just trees and mountains." 

"I'm not Bob Ross, Jisung." you mutter, hating the way the green paint looks on the canvas in the first place.

"Yes you are," he giggles, "you paint just like him." 

"Tells me the one who sounds like Mariah Carey but tries to act like he can't sing," you tease back, enjoying the way his eyebrows furrow at your comment.

"I can't do whistle notes yet," he smirks.

The car rides with Jisung were probably your most favorite. It wasn't for the fact that he doesn't drive too fast like most of your friends do, since as he said, he doesn't trust himself to slow down if he strats, but truth be told, that was also one of the reasons. But the main reason is, that you always get to hear him singing along to the radio, even if it's kind of difficult to hear over the loud music and the original singer. That doesn’t matter, though, because even the tiniest sign of him singing around you made you happy. 

He doesn't seem to care as he yells the words to Riptide by Vance Joy on the top of his lungs, sounding like the song belongs to him, parking the car in the almost empty parking lot at Michael's craft store.

"No problem. What even happened, anyway?" he furrows his brows at you, confused on why you suddenly hit him up out of the blue in the evening as you swore on your life you couldn't hang out because you have to finish that disgusting assignment for your art class.

"Thanks." you smile at him as you ubuckle your seat-belt and open the door to his car. 

"I fucked up on the painting and now I need to buy some new canvases," you grunt, rolling your eyes, "and green paint. A whole lot of green paint." 

He snickers a little as he walks by your side, quickly turning around to lock his car and bringing his attention back to you, "I am sure it wasn't even that bad in the first place and you're just over-reacting." 

"Yes it was, Jisung, you didn't see the disaster that painting became. I wanted to paint a bear and it looked like a degenerated pine tree." you blurb out, frustrated, as you take the shopping cart to your hands only for it to be snatched by the hands of your best friend helping you.

"Well, you could always say you wanted to be a little abstract," he grins at you.

"Yeah, sure. Miss Kim would absolutely kill me and I wouldn't get to the showcase this year again. Why am I majoring in art in the first place when I can't even get to the school's art showcase? That prick Minho got in three times already and he said he doesn't even like art in the first place!" you say, gritting your teeth.

"Why is he majoring in art, then?" asks Jisung, confused.

"Because he wanted a degree and he said it was the easiest major to pick," you roll your eyes. 

"Well, I mean that is kind of smart, I should have picked that instead of business-" 

"Jisung, you can't draw." you laugh.

"And? We were all born to express, not to impress," he waves his arms in the air, grinning. You laugh at his expression, facepalming as you reach for three containers of green paint from the counter and throwing it into the cart.

"If this is not enough of green paint, I swear to god I will kick something-" 

"Hey! Peace. Think of the pigeons. Rainbows. Sunshine," he recitates, motioning you to breathe deeply to calm down your nerves, giggling in the process.

"Fuck the pigeons! I tried to paint one yesterday and it turned into a fucking rock in the air!" you throw a fit, making him shush you as a few people turn around to see your distressed state.

"Calm down, woman," he says, putting an arm on your back, gently pushing you to the cashier, "it's just a painting. You'll do great, don't worry. You're just stressing too much." 

You grunt as you see another ruined canvas, throwing the brush onto the ground, muttering a quiet swear as you notice the paint on the floor, quickly taking a tissue and wiping it off.

"What's gotten into you? It's okay," sweetly says Jisung, once again sitting at your sofa and watching over you as you try to paint your assignment again. 

"It looks bad! Just look at it! I have a week left and I already ruined three canvases, at this rate, I won't be able to even finish it, I can only dream of getting to the showcase," you mourn, throwing yourself to the ground and hiding your face in your hands.

"You just have to take it easy, you're pressuring yourself too much-" 

"I've heard that already." you cut him off, growling. 

You lay there for a while, breathing heavily, collecting your thoughts. Once you manage to calm down, you sit up and look at your best friend watching over you on the sofa, sighing. "I'm sorry. I'm just stressed out. I didn't mean to snap at you." 

"It's okay." he nods, seeing you taking the brush into your hand again and trying to fix the blob of paint that was supposed to look like a squirrel, much reminding you of your dear best friend sitting next to you. 

You feel a gentle grip on your hand after a few seconds, taking the brush out of it and putting it to the table. You furrow your brows and look at him, confused on why he is suddenly stopping you from your work, the contact of his skin on yours surprising you a little.

"We're done with painting today." he sternly says, stopping you.

"Ji, I have a week left to-" 

"That's a lot of time! Stand up, we're having a karaoke night." he grins at you, pulling you up to your feet, as he takes his phone laying on the sofa into his hands and connects it to the bluetooth speaker.

"I have no time to have a karaoke night Jisung, what even is that-" 

"Pick a song. Any song. We're about to sing our hearts out tonight and my mission won't be considered successful until your neighbours come to complain," he grins, giving the phone into your hand with his spotify app open already. 

You look at him dead serious for a moment before sighing and looking through his embarrassingly long spotify playlist called ‘bops only’. "Fine," you sigh, "but just this once. And if they call the police on us, you're paying the fine for disturbing the silent hours." 

"I didn't say anything about that-" 

"Blah blah blah, I can't hear you!" you giggle, putting on I will survive by Gloria Gaynor on full volume to cut him off, throwing the phone back onto the sofa as you prepare for your singing solo.

You sneak your arms around his neck, dancing and laughing in the process as you loudly scream the lyrics into his face. He smiles at the sight, content with the fact that he managed to cheer you up so quickly, putting his arms on your hips as he jumps up and down, joining you in singing once the song hits the chorus. 

And just this once, as his arms steadily hold your body and you throw a tantrum in your living room, he doesn't even care that you hear him sing as he knows you like to hear his voice. Maybe, just maybe, that was the reason why he suggested a karaoke night to cheer you up in the first place anyway.

"What do you mean you're not gonna be here on my birthday?" you pout from the ground, focused on the canvas right in front of you. 

"Look, I'm sorry, okay? But my mum really needs me to come help her with the atic, and you know how she gets when I refuse to come home at least once a month even though I constantly tell her I don't have the time to travel for 45 minutes just so she can see my face once in a while…" sighs Jisung, laying on your sofa so his head is now facing the same way yours does, and that is, your half-empty canvas.

"I know, I know. But does it really have to be on my birthday? You're going to be away for three days, and the showcase is on Friday…" you mumble, "if I get there, of course." you sigh.

"I'm sorry," he mumbles, sounding genuinely concerned. It was currently Monday and your birthday was on Thursday, which meant you had four days to finish your art piece to submit it on the exact day of your birthday to see if your teacher accepts it for the showcase of the following day. And you're not even halfway done with your work! To be exact, you feel like you're gonna fail and to not have your best friend by your side to help you through your stress, you truly feel like you'll go insane.

"I know," you sigh, "it's okay. I guess I'll just… manage, somehow." you scoff.

"You can always celebrate with that friend from your art class, and we'll celebrate together on Saturday, when I come back. What was that kid's name again?" he furrows his brows at you, turning your way to see your focused face.

"You mean Hyunjin? No, thank you. He'd just want me to get drunk and I really don't need that the day before the showcase," you mumble, painting the leaves of the tree carefully, focusing on every single detail. Jisung always adored your talent. Everything you ever drew was a masterpiece in his eyes. He even kept the notes you gave to him in high school once when he was sick and you managed to take notes for him as well when you shared a Chemistry class, sneaking a few doodles on the sides when you got bored of listening to the teacher, "but that will come handy when I don't get in again, so I'll consider it." you roll your eyes.

"You will get in." he reassures you again, finding your eyes.

"I doubt that," you bitterly laugh. 

"Ugh, stop that already," he grunts, focusing on the canvas again, feeling relaxed just at watching you do your magic, but you throw the paintbrush on the table again at that exact moment and run your hands through your hair in frustration.

"What?" 

"It looks like shit. Again." you exclaim. 

His eyes go wide at the sentence, disbelief washing over him. Did you really think that?

"What the fuck? It doesn't! It looks amazing, trust me," he says, reaching his arms to you, taking you by the shoulder from his position on the sofa.

"I am so stressed Jisung, I feel like I'm about to go insane." you whisper, sighing.

You don't have to say more for Jisung to stand up from his position on the sofa only to sit on the ground behind you, sneaking his arms around your middle and bringing you close to him, gently rocking you in your position on the floor. You feel his nose nuzzling into the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent as he quickly pecks your cheek and settles his head back onto your shoulder.

You hear him softly singing into your ear, the words filling your insides with gold as his voice feels like honey, calming you down from the storm happening inside of you like a brim of light. 

"And I see colors in a different way, you make what doesn't matter fade to grey, life is good and that's the way it should be," he sings softly, a wide smile appearing on your features with every next word.

His voice calms your nerves as you slowly relax in his hold, your bodies gently rocking to the rhythm of the song as it slowly ends and his voice grows quieter. 

He hated singing in front of people. 

But to see you smile, he would go as far as overcoming his biggest fears. Because when you need him, he will always be there.

"Jisung, I have no time for this, I already told you I need to finish the assignment-" you mumble as you sit in his car, his smiling face looking at you from the driver's seat.

"I'm leaving tomorrow morning and I can't have you painting for more than an hour today because I feel like you'll break down if you do, so let's go. And you're already in the car, so there's no escape anyway." he explains, waiting for you to buckle in your seatbelt.

You just sigh and look out the window, biting down on your lip. If he keeps distracting you this much, you'll never finish the assignment.

You hear him softly singing along with the radio, careful not to disturb him in fear of making him stop, smiling to yourself as you let him drive you to an unfamiliar place in the middle of the night. You count the lampposts, the habit you grew to have since you were little, before they disappear and you're on a road shadowed by tall trees, the headlights of Jisung's car being the only thing illuminating the road. 

You recognise you're going up a hill, looking over at him, seeing him focused on the road.

As you reach the top, Jisung stops the car and gets out, you follow him as he waits for you by the door to the passenger’s side. 

As soon as you look around, you're amazed by the sight in front of you. You have a view of the city far, far away in the distance as you see the dell illuminated by the subtle glow of the moon sitting up in the starry sky. You watch the sight with an open mouth, awe washing over you as you just can't keep your eyes off the landscape in front of you.

"Wow," you breathe out.

You feel his hand gripping yours as he leads you to the edge of the hill, sitting at the giant rock there, pulling you down next to him as you watch the nature breathe in front of you. His hand doesn't leave yours as he speaks up after a while.

"You like it?" he asks, quiet enough to not disturb the atmosphere.

"Yeah," you whisper. You see him moving closer to you from the corner of your eye, his head leaning on your shoulder as he enjoys your presence.

"I wanted to show you this before I go, so you have a moment to breathe for a second before you throw yourself into the stress again," he mumbles, gently playing with the fingers of your hand.

"Thank you," you speak, breathing in the chilly air of the forest.

You stay like that for a while, just gazing over the beauty of it all, making you feel like the time stopped for the two of you only as you enjoy the seconds that pass. The full moon watches over the two of you, captivating you as you look at it with a feeling of delight. You hear his gentle voice in your ear again, singing softly and beautifully, sounding magical at the top of the hill, once again filling your ears with melody as your insides tingle. 

"Fly me to the moon, let me play among the stars, and let me see what spring is like on a-Jupiter and Mars," he sings, voice tender and sweet, slowing down the tempo of the song on purpose.

"In other words, baby, kiss me," he sings softly, voice fading as his eyes move to your lips, the silence of the hill and the light breeze tickling your skin.

You feel your eyes wandering to his lips, nervously licking yours in the process. You see him hesitantly move closer to you, stopping halfway to see if you pull away, taking his other hand and resting it on your cheek. His breath fans your face as he moves even closer, nudging your nose with his, eyes gazing to yours, your trembling fingers squeezing his hand as if to tell him to go ahead, fluttering your eyelids close.

Once the moment finally comes and his shy lips press to yours, you feel yourself responding immediately, moving with him as the familiar feeling of the sun in your stomach greets you with full force, your other hand going up to rest on his neck. 

When he pulls away and rests his forehead against yours, you can't help but smile. His soft giggle fills your ears like music, your lips meeting his in a soft, quick peck in the instance.

"In other words, hold my hand," he continues, softly squeezing your hand resting in his lap, making you look at him, locking your eyes with his as he stares at you, gaze full of stars.

Han Jisung's always been your best friend. But perhaps tonight, you finally understood the fact that life feels sweet as honey anytime he's around you. 

In other words, you love him.

You toss and turn in your bed, tears silently falling down your cheeks on a Wednesday night. Jisung's left this morning and you didn't even finish doing your assignment. You had the whole day for it today without anyone bothering you, but turns out, you managed to hate the painting you did anyway. 

It just didn't look good in your eyes. It looked gross. Horrible. When you compare yourself to the other people in your class, you feel like your art is worthless. It always somehow managed to look bad. And everybody knew. 

You were the only one who wasn’t good enough to get into the annual art showcase in your three years of college. 

Did you even improve at all? 

You turn around in your bed, seeing your phone light up with a new notification, opening it and wiping your tears away in the process so you can see though your blurry eyes. 

'How did the assignment go?' there states, Jisung's name appearing on the message app, your insides automatically calming down a little at the thought of your best friend.

'Don't even ask', you shoot him a reply, sighing deeply to stop the salty tears from falling. 

'It's okay, baby' he replies instantly, your heart racing at the nickname appearing on your screen, bitterly laughing at yourself for acting like a schoolgirl when it comes to Jisung. When did your feelings even grow into something more in the first place? It seemed like it was that way from the start. Perhaps you were just too oblivious to notice.

'It's not. Didn't even finish it. Kicked it when I fucked up again and just gave up.' you type, already friends with the feeling of defeat and failure you've been feeling since the evening.

He doesn't respond for a while, making you think he fell asleep with the phone in his hand again, turning around in your bed to put the phone back onto your bedside table to try to fall asleep on your own as well, when a new message lights up your screen.

You see a voice memo appearing in your messages with Jisung, your heart thumping at the image of hearing his voice this late in the evening, quickly pressing the play button and listening to what he had to say.

"Hi, umm- I've never actually done this before, but I know you're probably feeling like shit right now and I need you to know that you are not a failure, because I know you feel like one right now," you giggle a little at the accuracy, his low voice making you feel things you didn’t even know you could feel before, "anyways, I need you to be kind to yourself tonight. And since I know you like it when I sing, here's a little something…" he mumbles into the phone, making your heart race.

"Here goes nothing," he softly laughs, and clears his throat, beginning to sing, "Wise men say only fools rush in, but I can't help falling in love with you," his voice feels soft through the speaker, your eyes welling up with tears again, but this time, they're of appreciation and pure love for the boy laying in his bed 45 minutes away from you, because you know just how nervous he must have felt to sing into his phone just for you.

"Shall I stay? Would it be a sin, if I can't help falling in love with you?" he finishes, his voice fading away, your insides melting. How did you get so lucky? 

"And now go to sleep. It's your birthday tomorrow, we don’t want you to feel sad on your special day. Good night, baby." he sounds, the nickname bringing another set of butterflies into your stomach. 

You wish you could do as he told you. But at that exact moment, you bring yourself to try again, you make yourself stand up from your bed and move to your living room as you take a new canvas with you, inspiration kicking you with full force, taking tubes of paint and a paintbrush into your hand as you begin to work on your assignment, trying again just one last time.

You stand in front of your painting, watching over it with proud eyes. The chatter of people around you is only a background noise in your ears as you smile brightly at the assignment you finished just the time the clock striked midnight on Wednesday. 

"Yaaah y/n, it looks so good," you hear the voice of Lee Minho call next to you, patting your shoulder.

You grin and turn to look at him, gratitude washing over you upon hearing the compliment. "Thanks." 

"I wondered when you're finally going to be on a showcase, I don't understand why neither of your previous assignments made it," he mutters, shaking his head, "but this looks great. It's original." he nods.

"Thank you, Minho," you only smile wider, the pride in you growing minute by minute, "yours looks great too, by the way. I like the colors." 

"Really? I hate it. I never hated a theme more than this," he huffs, "who the fuck thinks nature is entertaining to paint?" 

"I know, right? I had four mental breakdowns over it," you laugh, now that the suffering is finally over and you can breathe freely.

"Did you use reference for this?" he asks suddenly, pointing to the painting hanging on the middle of the wall.

"No, I did it from memory…" you mumble, sighing.

You watch Minho's eyes shifting somewhere behind you, grinning widely at something that caught his eye, prompting you to look that way only to be left in a state of absolute shock. 

The talking of the people filling the showcase gradually stops as they see Han Jisung holding a plate of a strawberry cheesecake with a single candle stuck to the middle of it, moving slowly not to make the light flicker die down, the grinning face of Hwang Hyunjin following his steps with a bottle on champagne in his hands doing grimaces at you from afar as a honey voice calls through the room.

"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday, dear y/n," he looks at you, eyes big and full of love, as he finally reaches your figure in the middle of the room,

"Happy birthday to you!" he finishes, your soft giggles cutting through the hall as you move to blow out the candle and gaze onto the face of your best friend.

"What are you doing here? I thought you were coming in the evening!" you yell, throwing yourself into his arms. It was only three days, but you already missed him too much.

"I escaped," he laughs, his whole body shaking in the process as you pull away after a second, "I'm joking. I couldn't stay with my mother knowing I'm gonna miss your first ever showcase." 

You smile warmly at him, the people around you disappearing in the moment, only his figure standing out to you in the haze as he hesitantly moves over and locks your lips in a quick kiss. 

You ignore the howling of Lee Minho coming from your left and the loud 'Finally!!' from the lips of Hwang Hyunjin to your right as Jisung turns to your painting, smiling widely at the sight.

"It looks so real," he mumbles in awe, noticing the way his insides turn into a puddle of sweet joy as he recognises the night view of the dell he showed you on the night of your first kiss, instantly realising the way you must have painted it after he sent you the voice memo to sing you to sleep on the Wednesday night. 

"You inspired me," you grin brightly. 

"Don't say that." he shyly looks down on his feet.

"But it's true." you prompt.

He smiles lightly, shaking his head before locking your eyes again. 

"I just realised I left your gift at home. Look at me, wishing you happy birthday a day later and not even bringing you a gift to make up for it…" he mutters, stepping closer to you and putting an arm around your shoulder in the process.

"That's okay," you say, and you really mean it. You are the happiest you've ever been right now, feeling accomplished and with him by your side. You don’t need any other gift.

"Well, I have one thing in my mind that can count as a gift, though," he smirks.

"And that is?" 

"I can finally be your boyfriend. I mean, isn't that the best gift you’ve ever gotten?" he grins, prompting you to elbow him lightly in the ribs as you burst into a fit of laughter.

"You're such a dork, I swear to god…"

"But I am your dork, right?" 

You sigh, playfully rolling your eyes. "Yes, Jisung. You are my dork. Only mine."

[mariacallous]

Watching the Conservative party self-destruct after 12 years of near-untouchable power while the economy tanks is akin to seeing your racist neighbour’s house flood with sewage. It’s delightful schadenfreude – until you realise that stink is heading straight for you. If there is one positive to the Tory party conference this week, it is that these people have been at least temporarily contained. A kind of Alcatraz for Eton alumni. I would say “how much damage can they do?” locked in a conference hall in Birmingham; but based on the last few days, this group would see that less as a question and more as an active challenge.

Enter the levelling up secretary, Simon Clarke, who kicked off conference by touting a new age of austerity in the middle of a cost of living crisis. Britain had, Clarke said, been in a “fool’s paradise” for too long with a “very large welfare state”, which must come as news to the people queueing in the utopia of their local food bank. Early figures suggest public services will see cuts of up to £18bn a year, while benefits are being lined up for real-term cuts.

Pulling money from the poorest to further enrich the wealthy is the sort of agenda so cliched in its evil that by all rights it should be delivered by a minister twiddling a tiny moustache. With even Tory backbenchers feeling an urge to do the right thing and dissent, the chancellor, Kwasi Kwarteng, took to Twitter just hours before his speech on Monday with a screen-grabbed U-turn on the 45p rate of tax, like a reality TV star apologising via the Notes app for inappropriate touching in the villa.

Unfortunately for him, the other contestants seemed as though they may have been drinking as they broke ranks, creating the kind of unhinged chaos in which you find yourself listening to Nadine Dorries and thinking, “good point”. It was all very last days of Rome, albeit with less dignity.

The only thing the Tory party could seemingly unite around was the need to find a scapegoat. The education minister, Andrea Jenkyns, targeted (entirely made up) “Harry Potter degrees”. GCSE ethics experiment Suella Braverman announced it would be “my dream” to get migration flights to Rwanda by Christmas, channelling Mariah Carey’s less popular B-side All I Want for Christmas (Is to Deport Torture Victims). As one cabinet source told the Daily Mail of impending revolt: “The trouble is, there are so many bastards in the party.” Quite.

Not that any of this bothered Truss, whose keynote speech had the air of a coma patient who had woken up with scarce memory of the last fortnight. Any economic crisis was caused by Putin and Covid, she implored. Her government would keep an “iron grip” on the public finances. Even Greenpeace protesters couldn’t jar her back to reality. The speech was 35 minutes short, though you couldn’t say it felt it. The only thing longer than Truss’s cadence is the current wait for an ambulance.

Tellingly, the “sensibles” of the Conservative party were missing from the audience, like rats fleeing the proverbial. When Boris Johnson is being referred to as “the sensible” era of Tory governance, it certainly gives a perspective on the depths of the particular barrel we are now scraping.

One notable absentee was Rishi Sunak, who has reportedly stayed in his constituency in Yorkshire, presumably unable to travel to conference on account of physically laughing too hard. As one Sunak ally reportedly put it: the former leadership candidate wished to “give Truss all the space she needs to own the moment”.

If there is one group currently suffering more than the select Tories who warned about Truss, it is those who supported her. As one Tory MP who voted for Truss lamented to the Times: “We’ve ended up with a perfect storm of problems.” If only there had been some sort of warning any of this was going to happen. Much like the MPs who supported Johnson only to feign surprise when he turned out to be a liar, there is something remarkable about seeing MPs who backed Truss in the leadership campaign one month ago now claiming shock at her shortcomings. A woman whose sole qualification for the post appeared to be “looks a bit like Margaret Thatcher when sitting in a tank”.

The truth is, of course, Tory MPs supported Truss not because they didn’t realise what she would do, but because they did. Just like their cheerleaders in the rightwing press, it suited them to get tax cuts for their own class and chums in the City and they cared nothing for the consequences – until they were found out. If recent polling is to be believed, “consequences” for Tory MPs may finally be on the way, specifically in the form of a ballot count at 3am in a cold school hall. It could not happen to a more deserving group. The question, though, is just how much more harm they can inflict on the country in the meantime. That isn’t a challenge – more an omen.

[auckie]

Is this possible? Is this a thing I can do and how do. I already had to change my laptop Lock Screen and screen saver from sponfebob and Patrick looking down at squidward falling into the fly of despair and squidward falling into the said fly of despair, different shots, respectively AND my phone Lock Screen from Mariah Carey with a unicorn and her nipples clearly visible through a dress. Like how much do I have to sacrifice.

[seasonsofeverlark]

Spreading Christmas Cheer

Author: @mega-aulover​

Prompt: Everlark the movie Elf [submitted by @alliswell21​]

Rating: G

Author’s Note: This is a story based off of the movie Elf as requested by @alliswell21​ It’s from “Jovie” i.e. Katniss POV, what she would have seen and fell in love with one Peeta ‘Buddy’ Mellark. 

Special thanks to @norbertsmom​ for her betaing skill and for the name of the story. Parts 3 and 4 will post separately.

_____________

Pt 1

I watch Peeta gently kiss the top of our first born’s head. Holly’s dark hair is braided into two plaits; her blue eyes closing softly. 

“And Papa Elf said, grandpa was on the naughty list…” his voice is soft.

Suddenly Holly’s eyes widen as she remembers something. Her blue eyes are laser focused on Peeta. “Papá, es verdad que mamá estaba en la  lista de los niños malos?”   

“Y quien te dijo esto?” I ask from the door. We never discuss my role in Peeta’s adventure, or the fact that I was on the naughty list. Ever. 

“Santa,” Holly says.

Ese gordo, Santa has loose lips. I think about teaching him about keeping secrets until it’s time to explain to our child about the past. But before I can say anything, Peeta gives me a look. He always knows when I’m having evil thoughts. I sigh, and redirect my thoughts, because Peeta made me believe in love, joy, and Christmas.    

“Your papa saved more than grandpa that Christmas. He saved me too.”

Holly’s eyes lit up like her father’s before the sleepiness creeps back into their depths.

“Now go to sleep so Santa can come down the chimney.”

“Night, mama, night papa,” Holly whispers right before she drifts off to sleep. 

Together we walk out of our daughters bedroom. Peeta slides an arm around my shoulders. He dips down and nuzzles my cheek. He steers me to the living room. I drag my feet. Peeta is up to something.

“Okay, spill it, Mellark.”

He gives me a wide eyed smile.

The hair at the back of my neck stands up straight. 

He’s got that look, that please tell me a bedtime story stare, and not just any story. 

“No.”

Peeta pauses and gives me a puppy dog look with a full lip pout.

“No.”

“Come on, Sweetums, my li’l sugar plum,” Peeta says in an excited whisper.

“No…no don’t waggle your eyebrows at me, Peeta. Buddy. Mellark.” I pronounce each one of his names.

Peeta’s grins so brightly; his eyes shine brighter than Christmas lights. His hat is slightly crooked as he hops and does that stupid little dance of his that makes me want to tear off his green tights. Yep, I said tights. My husband was raised as an elf, a six foot two, blond, wavy haired, giant with broad shoulders, washboard abs, and is genuinely sweet. Sweeter than eggnog.

He grabs me by the waist. “You know you wanna,” he says in that sexy time voice of his that’s reserved only for me. 

Canasto! 

I should clarify for everyone listening to my tale; you should know canasto isn’t a vulgar or bad word. It means basket. But I like the way it sounds in Spanish. So I say it with real vehemence. It’s like peaches in Spanish sounds like a curse word. Melocotón! Tu eres un Melocotón! Which translates into you’re a peach. 

I digress.

I let out a big sigh. There’s no way I can say no to him and he knows it! Canasto!

“I love it when you tell the story of how we met from your point of view.“ 

"You’re an evil gremlin,” I say with no heat in my voice. It’s my personal nickname for him. As in the gremlins when they ate after midnight. However to be fair, if you see Peeta, he’s not scary at all, he’s more like a big teddy bear.  

Peeta laughs and my heart flip flops. Because he is anything but; he is so congenial.

Peeta puts his hands on my belly, my very big belly. It’s baby number 2; actually it’s baby number two and three. They are counted as one until they’re born. I know what he’s doing, the evil gremlin! He’s trying to distract me because I’m due to give birth. I have mild pangs because I’m carrying twins and I’m nearing my due date.

He carries me and sits me on his lap. “Now start from the beginning.”

“From the candy cane forest?” I ask.

“No from your point of view,” his eyes dance gently as he rests me against his chest, rubbing my bulging belly.

“Okay,” I say quietly.

“Don’t forget to start with once upon a time,” Peeta insists, trying to contain his excitement.

“Once upon a time.”

“This is going to be good,” Peeta whispers.

“Are you going to let me tell the story?”

“Oh yea,” Peeta placed a kiss on my nose. “Go ahead.”

Closing my eyes I picture the year things changed. Because everything in my life was about others and never myself. I was always trying to be someone else, what everyone expected of me. 

It’s hard being a foster kid, and getting out of the system is kind of like getting out of jail. Suddenly you have all this freedom, but you’ve been conditioned to follow all of these rules, so when you are free, you do one of two things. You get in trouble, and try to get sent into an institution; some of us call it the iron college. Or you try to keep your nose clean and learn in the school of hard knocks. In my case, I kept my head above the water for my sister’s sake.  

“I love my family,” I muttered underneath my breath. 

I muttered it again as my sister destroyed, no scratch that, mutilated Mariah Carey’s “All I want for Christmas."  

Did I forget to mention that I love my family?   

I do. I love my family and there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for them, but at that moment I wanted to scratch my ears out with dull spoons.  

My perfect baby sister is a smoking hot blonde runway model and the muse for Karl Lagerfeld, but she has the worst singing voice known to man. You want to torture someone, hire my sister, and have her sing to the person you want to torture. Within 3 seconds flat, she can have even the most hardened of spies spilling their guts like a canary.

The one thing I could not stand beside my sister’s singing was Christmas. 

I loathed Christmas.

I was not ashamed to say it.  Every fiber of my body I hated Christmas!   If I had ever met the real Santa back then, he had better hoped that I was not holding my bow and arrow, because I would have shot him through the eye. Not that I believed in Santa then, but if I had known there was a real life Santa Claus, I’d have hunted him down, and burned the fat man’s jolly red outfit. I would then gleefully take a joy ride in his sleigh into his workshop like Bill Murray did in Groundhog Day when he allowed the groundhog to drive him off the cliff into a fiery death.

At this point you are wondering why I hated Christmas so much.

There were many reasons why the holiday was so contemptible to me. One, my father died on Christmas day. Two, my mother checked out on us that same Christmas day. The next Christmas Eve was when my sister and I were separated into different foster homes.  It took me a few months to find my six-year-old baby sister. I had been sent to a foster family who used foster kids for slave labor, to have them wipe and clean their floors while the Mrs. of the family spent the whole day in luxurious spas and getting Botox treatments, as if that was going to improve her mug. 

My baby sister was luckier. Primrose was placed in a foster home in the middle of suburbia with a 2 story house with a picket fence. A woman named Cecilia and her husband Ronald had never been able to have kids, and they doted on my sister. They brought her up to be the princess she always said she was. Honestly, they were rather shocked when my twelve-year-old cynical self rolled up into their home screaming for my baby sister, Primrose. Prim came running out of nowhere and latched herself on to my leg like an octopus. Best Spring ever, so I do love the Spring. 

But before you think we were reunited, we weren’t. The family that had Primrose never wanted me. And even if they did, we technically didn’t have the same last name. Primrose carried my mom’s last name while I carried my dad’s. My sister was Primrose Emmerson and I was Katniss Everdeen. Our parents had a silly agreement. They were also foster kids, so they decided that I would take dad’s name and the next one born would take our mothers name. 

They didn’t have family, and her parents lived a common law marriage. Their childish decision caused havoc. There was a mix up and we weren’t processed as sisters. Plus, I never stayed in the same foster home for long so even if they wanted me, they never knew where I was, but no matter where I was, I found a way to talk to Primrose, because as long as Prim was loved and cared for, my situation didn’t matter.

After our brief reunion, I had to go back to the family that I was placed in, and my sister stayed with her family. I didn’t stay with mine for very long; I became a statistic. A rolling number on someone’s computer screen. I was bounced around from one family to another in all sorts of seedy homes. 

So you can see why I’m so jaded. Every bad thing that ever happened to me, has happened on that freakin’ holiday. And there was one more reason I disliked that holly jolly holiday so immensely. For some reason, the universe hated me. 

No matter where I went, what city, what town within the state, I could guarantee you that it was a racket, a billion dollar racket to make parents crazy and buy things for their kids they didn’t need. For some reason, it pleased people to take my olive skin, dark hair, scowling self and put me into a sparkly Christmas cheer, “gag” pointy eared elf costume.

So with a week until Christmas, I was listening to my sister butcher another holiday favorite song. Then Prim screeched. And I sighed in relief.

"Katniss,” Prim said, coming out of the bathroom. “The water is cold!”

I looked heavenward. “The pipes. I forgot they’re working on the water main outside. They said there would be interruption to service.”

“Oh, you know I can get us a hotel room,” Prim said toweling dry her pale blonde locks. 

My studio apartment wasn’t what my sister was used to. She was a freaking couture runway model, six foot one, so slim nothing off the rack fit her. “I’m sorry Prim, I was so excited to see you.”

Prim smiled. “Look, I only have a few hours left. How about I treat you to lunch before I go back up to Connecticut to spend Christmas with Cecillia and Ron.” Prim smiled at me. “You know you’re more than welcome to come. They always ask about you.”

I loved my baby sister. She was amazing. And I was damned glad that the Henderson's were an amazing couple, but I knew the score. They didn’t know what to do with me. “As long as you don’t mind me wearing my elf costume.”

Primrose chuckled. “You make the cutest elf though.” She patted me on the head using a baby tone with me. Prim was taller than me by a foot. I was tiny, or as Prim said, compact size.

“I could still put you over my knee, little duck,” I growled. “Así que mira ver.”

My sister laughed and she delighted in taunting me. Prim no longer spoke Spanish, but she understood the language. “You’re adorable when you’re angry, an angry little elf, aren’t you?”

“Primrose,” I said in Spanish. I rounded my ‘r’s’ when I said her name. 

“Awe, I don’t don’t get why you hate Christmas so much.” Primrose winked going to the screen divider to get dressed. My sister was used to dressing and undressing in front of dozens of people. I, on the other hand, was not so free with nudity. Primrose said I was a prude. If I hadn’t I told her to use the screen, she would have changed right in front of me. 

“Did you know there are only three jobs an elf can have,” Prim said from over the screen. 

I sighed. Unlike me, Primrose loved Christmas. Hell, she even suggested that there might be a real Santa Claus. I told her the only people who look for ways to sneak into people’s houses were criminals. 

Prim continued her story about elves. “The type of elves that live in trees and make cookies, the types that make shoes, and the best type.”

“Let me guess, Christmas elves,” I said, rolling my eyes.

Prim grinned. She came around the screen wearing thigh high red boots, jeans and a camel tunic sweater that looked like cashmere. “Come on sis, let me treat you to breakfast so that you can go terrorize the children of Macy’s toy department.”

  Pt 2 

Peeta grins excitedly, breaking the narration. “You know she’s right. Papa says the cookie elves have high insurance premiums because their tree catches fire all of the time.” 

“Peeta,” I huff. “Do you want me to finish the story?” 

“Absolutely,” he hugs me closer. “I’m so sad you and Prim never got to grow up at the North Pole with me.”

I can’t help but smile at his sincere wish. “Oh Peeta,” I kiss his cheek.

“The only thing I would never let you do was toy testing,” Peeta whispers.

I chuckled. Peeta hated Jack-In-The-Box’s. They scare the dickens out of him. I lay my head on his shoulders. “Are you going to let me finish the story?”

“You know,” he says, blue eyes twinkling. “I’d spotted you in the city that first day.” 

“You were jumping across the lines of the cross walk, “ I grin at the memory. 

“I followed you until I saw the Empire State Building. Then I went to see my father.”

“I know,” I caress his face.

“Start from that point.”

“Okay, you ready now.” My babies were moving in my belly.

“Right, you were in your father’s office delivering the most awkward Christmas gram.” 

Peeta chuckles. “I don’t have your pretty voice.”

I sigh. “Peeta.”

“Right, I’ll be quiet.”

I give him a look. 

“But just so you know, when those guards told me to go back to Macy’s, I was curious as to why you were dressed as an elf.“

I roll my eyes. Did I forget to mention my husband is a talker. He is a chatterbox. I swear Peeta is the type who’d make friends with a paper bag.

"I thought your elf name was so pretty,” he sighs happily.

“Peeta, if you want me to tell the story. You have to hush!” I admonish, if I didn’t we would be here until tomorrow.

“Oh,” he gushes. “Yes, tell the story.” 

“So, there I was in the middle of New York, like a morsel in shark infested waters. I.E….”

“That passion fruit spray is horrible,” Peeta grumbles. “I do not know how women drink that stuff.” 

I want to laugh. There are still things that Peeta doesn’t understand about human society; perfume was one of them, and that fact endeared him to me.

“Can you start at the moment our eyes met?” Peeta gives me a wobbly smile. 

Ah, now I know why he’s interrupting so much. “Okay.”

Sighing I recall that day. Prim and I were out to breakfast. She was harping on me to find someone. Did I fall to mention Primrose was only twenty years old at the time, and at that age I was ancient at the tender age of twenty six. Seriously twenty-six. So what if I had never dated, never had a boyfriend, and never kissed anyone. My sister was right. I was a prude, but I’d seen how love could screw you over. My mom never recovered and she died alone in some home of a broken heart. All I had in the world was my sister. My Prim, and she was the only person I would love. Until that afternoon. 

“Seriously Katniss, you’re twenty-six,” Prim said. 

Eye rolling was a national pastime when speaking to a glamazon who thought I needed to date.

“Don’t roll your eyes at me,” Prim said, removing my sunglasses. “And also, sunglasses in the middle of December, so not tre chique.” 

Eye roll, eye roll, eye roll. Fake smile. CANASTO!

“You are the worst,” Prim hissed.

I knew my sister wasn’t mad at me. Annoyed, yes. Mad, no. “Prim, it’s just I’m not interested in dating anyone.” 

“Katniss, I just don’t want you to impersonate elves for the rest of your life, and when you’re like forty-six, you’ll realize you’re alone with a cat, who pisses in your shoes, and scratches your furniture.” 

I moved to pay our bill.

“No way,” Prim said, slamming her hand on the bill. “I make what you make in a month in two hours of work. This is on me.”

“Fine,” I grumbled. 

“Also, stop closing yourself to Christmas. Santa isn’t going to leave you anything under the tree.”

“Like Santa exists,” I snorted.

Prim gasped. “You take that back. Santa Claus is real Katniss, just like the rainbows, and pigs and frogs having a long term, caring relationship, and love exists.” 

My sister’s wide eyed passionate confession shook me, but the only words that came out of my mouth were, “a frog and a pig?” 

“Miss Piggy and Kermit are together, and if they can make it, no matter what the media says, anything is possible.”

“Huh,” I said, leaving the luncheonette near Penn Station. We walked to the corner, where she’d take the stairs to the lower level. 

I took a look at the stairs, knowing this was the moment I would say goodbye to my sister once again. My eyes filled with unwanted tears. I could still recall the little girl with the untucked shirt that looked like a duck tail. It’s where the nickname li’l duck came from.

“Don’t cry,” Prim whispered. “Quack, quack.”

“I hate it when we have to say goodbye,” I said quietly.

“It’s not goodbye, Katniss; it’s until the next time.” Prim grinned then she took my elf hat and put it on my head. “Go on, terrify the poor children of the city with your menacing scowl. But you better watch out, better not cry.”

I groaned. “Prim, I would rather hear seagulls squawking then you singing.” 

“I know, that’s why I do it,” Prim said.

“You’re a brat.”

“Brat, I’m on Santa’s nice list. You’re the one on the naughty list.”

“There’s no such thing as Santa…” the words died on my lips as I saw a huge man dressed in an elaborate elf outfit jumping on the lines of the crosswalk gleefully. I was struck by the joy on his face.

He looked like an angel with wavy blond hair and innocent blue eyes. It was one thing to see a six-year-old child with that wide eyed innocence, but a tall, broad shouldered man with large hands made me think perhaps he’d escaped his caretakers. His elf outfit wasn’t like the cheap one I had to wear. It was made from a rich fabric with elaborately embroidered gold thread. 

If there was something I knew about, it was fabric. I never had soft fabrics growing up and I was obsessed over soft materials. I dreamed of cashmere, Egyptian cotton, mulberry silks, and linens. His green tunic was made from merino wool, like the ones they made in England in those bespoke shops.  Even his hat, although a ridiculous cone shape, was not some cheap fabric covered cardboard that you’d find in a costume shop. It was made from genuine thick green wool felt with a yellow satin ribbon wrapped around it. A red feather bobbed up and down as he jumped.

He was so happy. He looked up, as if sensing my presence. Our eyes met and he smiled jovially and waved at me. My mouth went dry, because, gaw, Canasto!

This man-child was gorgeous. 

“Earth to Katniss.” Prim snapped her fingers in my face.

“Sorry.” I looked back to my sister.

Prim looked over her shoulder. “Are you okay.”

I dipped out of my sister’s way. “I think I saw an elf.”

Prim laughed. “It’s Christmas, Katniss. Santa’s elves are everywhere.” Prim gave me a hug before descending the stairs to the lower level of the station. 

Seeing my sister go was difficult, but I couldn’t shake the tall man dressed as an elf. He even had on yellow tights with black elf shoes. 

I made my way to Macy’s. I could see the Empire State building in the background as I took a left to head to the employee’s entrance. 

When I arrived, the floor manager Brutus headed straight to me. He was a ridiculous man with muscles in his neck and a bald head. His meaty fingers held a tiny clipboard. 

Brutus did not believe in technology. He refused to use a tablet. He said the muckety-mucks, as he called them, were out to get him. He wore dark brown pants that were too small for his large frame and even when he stood you could see his white socks. He wore a sweater vest with various pens in his front pocket and a cheap plastic necklace that was supposed to look like tree lights.  

“Jovie,” Brutus said looking over his shoulder.

“Yes, Brutus,” I smiled. Jovie was my elf name.

“Our last Santa quit, and we have no one, so until then I need you to help out in gift wrapping. Don’t forget to make sure the ribbon curl is six inches.”

“But you need more than six inches, to make a good curl.”

“Six inches.”

Sighing I walked to the station and nodded to the girls who were at the gift-wrapping station. I sat there trying to make six inch curls. People were insane at Christmas; they were stressed out to buy things, and things never made anyone happy. Things were just things.  

The line of people got shorter and I noticed the tree in the center of the sales floor was looking a little sad. So getting the ladder, I rearranged the ornaments and noticed one of the lights was out. From this vantage point I saw Brutus drag him in, the elf I saw on the street.

Heat rushed to my cheeks and I focused on the tree, eavesdropping the entire time. 

“Buddy, you need to remember you get a half-hour break when you work under six hours and a one hour break when you work over six hours. If I catch you on the floor again I’ll have to write you up.” 

His name was Buddy. My lips formed a goofy smile at his name. Up close he was prettier, his wavy hair curled up at the ends. A shiver ran up my spine at all of those curls. I could picture little boys with blond ringlets and a little girl with dark tresses in green colored elf clothing. I held on to the ladder as I swayed. 

“Wow, what’s this?” HIs eyes quickly darted to the crowded sales floor. 

“This is the north pole,” Brutus said looking at his precious clipboard.

“No it’s not,” Buddy waved at a pair of babies inside of a stroller. 

“Yes it is,” Brutus said.

“No it’s not,” Buddy eye’s traveled to the tree and I hid behind it so that he didn’t see me.

“Yes it is,” Brutus put his hands on his wide hips.

“No it’s not,” Buddy said smiling. “Where’s the snow?”

“He’s right, there’s no snow,” a six-year old girl said. She’d been listening to the conversation.  

I nearly snorted. 

“Why are you smiling like that?” Brutus brows knit together.

“I just like to smile, smiling’s my favorite thing,” he said. Bouncing to the Christmas music that was being pumped through the speakers. 

“Well stop smiling, and make work your favorite thing to do. And who gave you that outfit?”

“It’s mine,” Buddy said, splaying those large hands on his chest looking down at his elf outfit. 

Brutus looked at the intricate gold embroidery. “Fine, if that’s your story. You should make work your priority instead of shopping.” Brutus sighed, looking at his clipboard again. “I have to make the announcement.”

Buddy nodded, but once more was looking around. 

I was working on the tree lights by now and really didn’t want to get down because I wanted to keep staring at him. At his great legs. Normally tall guys had spindly legs. Not his, yum. 

“Okay I’ve got an announcement. Santa will be here tomorrow at 10AM. Keep your receipts so you can see Santa.” 

“SANTA!” Buddy yelled. He jumped, clasped his hands and a little girl next to him joined him. Soon there was a flock of kids doing the same thing, all speaking at once and he was nodding and speaking to them as if he knew Santa. 

I chuckled cause I’ve never seen Brutus look so stunned and speechless. He was carried away by Chaff, his second in command. 

Buddy turned and focused on me. I pretended that he wasn’t just a few feet away from me. I could feel his gaze as I fixed the bulb that was not letting the string of lights to turn on. The tree lit up and I swear his eyes seemed to glow brighter than the lights on the tree.

My stomach did a little flip-flop. “What!” I said defensively. I turned and saw how big his eyes were and the genuine smile. “Are you enjoying the view?”

“I love Christmas trees,” he said hesitantly. “It’s nice to see someone else who enjoys elf culture as much as I do.” 

Of course the guy that would make butterflies dance in my stomach was a wackadoo. I scowled. This wasn’t happening. Getting down from the tree, I quickly walk away, grabbing a few stuffed animals that were discarded and putting them back on the display.

“Looks like someone needs Christmas cheer and the best way to do it is to sing.”

“I don’t sing,” I muttered.

“Of course you can.” He chased after me.

“No,” I said trying to get him to stop, but liking that he’s walking after me like a wide eyed puppy-dog.

“Anyone can. All you have to do is put a group of words together in a tune,” he said sweetly.

I hopped on up on the stage where the guy in the red suit would be seated tomorrow. I turned to look at him. As I spoke to him, I couldn’t keep the hurt from my voice. Because the last time I sang a Christmas song it was with my dad, hours before he died.  “I know that, I can sing, but I choose not to sing.”

“Look, I’ll do it for you maybe it will make you smile,” Buddy said. He takes a deep breath, “I”M SINGING. I’M IN A STORE AND I AM…”

It was horrible, but I couldn’t help but smile. 

“THERE’S NO SINGING IN THE NORTH POLE!” Brutus comes running out from behind the registrar.

“Yes there is,” Buddy says grinning at me. “I’m Peeta.”

“Wait I thought your name was Buddy?”

“That’s my middle name,” Peeta said. “Is Jovie your name?”

“No,” my voice sounds breathy. “Jovie is my elf name.”

“So what’s your real name?” His voice sounded deeper and I swear I could see nothing else but his big blue eyes tenderly gazing at me.

“Katniss,” I said, wondering why my knees were so wobbly. I couldn’t fall for a guy who thought he was an elf. A very good looking, broad shouldered guy with the face of an angel, but nonetheless, a complete wakadoo.    

The ten minute warning came on letting people know they needed to go home.

“Oh I’ve got to get ready for Santa,” Peeta muttered under his breath. But before he could move Brutus appears. 

“Buddy,” Brutus grabbed him by the arm and hauled him away. I was left standing on that stage with a big old goofy grin on my face.

[tommyflanagans]

My person ❤️

I wasn’t able to sleep through the night especially after a long stressful day, I didn’t see Tommy for the whole day I knew he was busy and I couldn’t bother him like I wanted to, I respected him that much to have his time to do his own things that he needed to do. He always told me to tell him that if I ever needed him, he was just a phone call away but I’m stubborn so I never bothered him especially when I know he’s my go to person.

My day was just filled with stress from work, dealing with personal stuff, I can’t explain what the stuff was happening for because I had no reasons to explain, I just couldn’t explain. It’s the way I was, the way I dealt with stuff I kept it tucked in without any notice but this was different. I knew I needed him, his big hands against my skin, his little kisses he gives me out of nowhere. He knew how to treat me he knew what I liked. He was my person.

So here I am laying in bed at 3 AM in the morning, tossing and turning smelling his cologne and his musk against my bed I missed him. It wasn’t enough. I grabbed my phone that was on the night stand debating if I should text him or call him. I know he was sleeping I couldn’t bother him but I texted him anyway, “hey baby, I’m sorry to be texting you so late, I know you won’t see it until morning but I need you. I love you see you tomorrow.” I set my phone back down, laid my head against the pillows sighing loudly and groaned as I did.

Shortly 1 minute later my phone started ringing, I looked at my screen to see a picture of me and Tommy with ‘my heart’ as the contact name. I smiled slightly and answered “I’m sorry for waking you up...” I sighed I heard him clear his throat before he spoke “don’t worry about it darlin’ I said you could phone me anytime, and that means anytime of the day or night. I’m coming’ over” I could hear him moving around, his dresser drawers opening. “I’ll be over in 15 okay?” He spoke. I stayed quite for a second I didn’t want to cry not then and there but I muffled a little cry “okay baby.. see you in a bit”

“Stay on the phone with me until I get to see your beautiful face” he said as he was getting ready. I couldn’t help but smile and chuckled a little “okay baby.. can’t wait to hold you” he chuckled lightly “anything for you love, I’m always here, I’m just done getting dressed, walking down my stairs to find my cars keys.” He was giving me his every move details he was making. I couldn’t help but smile as he doing what he could to make me feel better. “I’m getting into my car now love.. I’m only a few minutes from you” he said as the car started up. “You’re too good for me” I said to him, “Now you and I both know that’s a lie. You’re too good for me baby” he smirked lightly. “Be careful baby, I don’t want you to get caught talking and driving” I said worried he wouldn’t get here in the time he said he would. “I’m always gonna risk things for you my love, should be there within the next 5 mins”

I got up from my bed and headed down to my living room looking out the window “I’m waiting for you.” I said, He was always giving me these butterflies in my stomach, every time I see him I get nervous but the good nervous he makes me fall in love with him all over again. “I love you baby, always and forever” he spoke “look out the window love you’ll see my pulling in” and there he was pulling into my driveway I got excited and walked to the door to open it for him, he got out of his car locking it. “You look beautiful as always” he said as he was smiling at me walking up to the door. I dropped my phone from my ear and ran into his open arms as he lifted me up, wrapping my legs around him. He was still but swaying a little as he held me tight kissing my neck and making his way to my lips “hello to you to darlin’” he said as he started to walk into my house.

“Hello to you too baby.” I said kissing him, he kicked the door closed and he locked it. Still holding me up and he kissed me again. “Let’s get you back to bed love.” I nodded I was about to get down from him he held me tighter and said “ooh you trynna get away from me now are we?” I laughed a little and kissed him “never baby, I could never do that to you” he started walking us up the stairs to my bedroom “that’s good love, cause I want to be the one you’re with forever” he smirked. He laid me down onto the bed then he quickly undressed down to his shorts and got on top of me as he kissed me. “I know we haven’t seen each other all day and I apologize for that” he said I shook my head “don’t apologize baby, you do what you gotta do, I’m just happy you’re here now” kissing him lightly.

He moved to lay down beside me pulling me into his warm body. I sighed in relief “I missed you.” I said kissing his chest holding onto him tightly “I missed you too baby” he kissed my head. “Sleep love, I’ll be here” he was running his fingers up and down my back I could feel myself falling into sleep. The next morning I woke up feeling an empty spot beside me, I stretched and wondered where he went to, then I heard music coming from downstairs I smiled, as I grabbed his t shirt and put it over myself walking downstairs. There he was in nothing but his shorts cooking and singing away to ‘Fantasy’ by Mariah Carey. I couldn’t help but smile at the scene and he turned his head towards me slightly dancing as he was walking towards me I met him halfway and he was smiling “good morning baby” he picked me up.

“Good morning to you too baby” I said kissing him he set me on the counter as he poured me a cup of coffee and handed it to me. “All this for me?” I said smiling at him taking a sip of my coffee “like I said love anything for you” he sipped his cup and set down as he started plating our breakfast. He stood there handing me my plate, “let’s eat on the couch watch some tv shall we?” He said I nodded getting down from the counter and we made our way to my couch, we got comfortable he turned on the news first, he always wanted to know what was happening around the world I did not mind at all. We sat and ate just enjoying being in each other’s company. He is my person forever.

The End

[hawkeish]

3. You made me a Christmas playlist but it’s just Mariah Carey’s “All I want for Christmas is you”. I can’t tell if you’re hitting on me or if it’s a joke --- for (you know it) Carver/Merrill :D

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS PROMPT IT IS FANTASTIC, here’s 1400 words of modern Carver/Merrill fluff written for @dadrunkwriting because I have no restraint and too much time <3 I hope you like it!

no CWs, but there’s some swearing (I promise my Hawke siblings love each other, in a brutal way!)

also my modern Merrill’s a postgrad studing Art History & Cultural Studies - repairing the eluvian is her research project.

read on AO3 if you want!

It’s the evening before everything shuts down for Satinalia, and it’s started to snow.

Which would be nice, if only Carver wasn’t stuck outside Merrill’s door, trying not to break a magical mirror which possesses far too many poky bits as it pokes right into his side. Fingers numb with cold, he’s too busy fumbling with the ridiculous amount of keys she gave him to appreciate the beauty of the Alienage in Firstfall. Bedecked with wreaths, shining baubles and flickering garlands of lights, the vhenadahl is like something from a fairy-tale, dusted with a gentle sigh of snow.

Snow, lights, whatever. Any other night, Carver might let himself be enchanted. But right now, he has one priority—get the damn mirror into the damn apartment without breaking it even more.

And yet here he is, falling at the first hurdle: locked out, with Merrill’s most precious possession leaning on him at an angle that’s making him nervous. It’s not exactly going well. But it needs to go well. He promised he’d get the eluvian - carefully swaddled in some enchanted cloth to “protect him”, whatever that means - from her studio at the Viscount’s College of Art back to her Lowtown home in one piece. If he doesn’t, he’s not sure what might happen. He doesn’t want to know what might happen. Her degree? Ruined. A vital piece of her people’s history? Lost. And as for Merrill herself?

She’d probably never speak to him again, and shit, he can’t think of much worse—

Click.

The random key he’s shoved in the lock twists, and the door swings open before him.

“Thank the fucking Maker,” he mumbles, then picks up the mirror and barrels into Merrill’s tiny home.

Merrill’s flat is much like Merrill. As in, modest, pretty, and filled with a frankly terrifying amount of knowledge. There are small cairns of books dotted between potted plants and thrifted armchairs, alongside art prints leaned up against walls and notebooks littering her paint-flecked desk. Though she doesn’t celebrate Satinalia, there are a couple of decorations over the tiny fireplace, too. And—is that spice he can smell?

As Carver carefully sets down the eluvian by the window in the corner like she’d instructed, he catches sight of something in his peripheral vision. Two steaming cups of wine-dark liquid set on the coffee table by the fire, and beside them, a neatly-folded note.

Curiosity gets the better of him. Carver wanders over and gingerly picks up the paper, a frown puckering his brow as he unfurls it.

C. Merrill’s handwriting is pin-point neat. I just wanted to say - I do really appreciate you doing this for me. Creators, there’s no chance I could lift that thing on my own! You really are my chevalier in shining armour. I’ll send you a little something to say thanks. M x

That x does something strange to him; a small chill runs up his spine, and Carver puts the note back down in a fluster. Just as he does, the phone in his pocket vibrates. Still frowning, he pulls it out, then squints at the text that’s screaming up at him from the too-bright screen.

alright dickhead! hope you’re having a lovely day of being a burden on society! did you get the message?

Carver doesn’t need to read the sender’s name to know it’s from his sister.

Go back to making shit coffee for people who’ll never sleep with you, he types. And what message?

Surely Ri wouldn’t mean the note. Why would she know about the note? As far as he can tell, Merrill only asked him for help after Aveline and Fenris made some excuse about being far too busy washing their hair, or dancing round their townhouse full of half-decayed corpses, or whatever the fuck it is that they get up to instead of being friendly, helpful people.

Carver wasn’t the first choice. He never is. Which is fine. Totally fine. He’s used to it. Knowing he’s never a first thought definitely doesn’t itch at the back of his mind, or keep him up at night—

“Maker’s breath,” he scolds himself, trying to focus back on his phone.

And then, just as he presses send, another notification pops up. Unknown number; something in him tells him to tap anyway. When he does, a little jolt of static runs through him, warm and fuzzy and disgustingly sweet.

For you, the new message reads. To say thanks. I knew I wouldn’t need to ask anyone else. You’re all I need for Satinalia. Enjoy! <3

Below it, there’s a link to a playlist. A playlist which, he notices, contains about twenty versions of the same song, All I Want For Satinalia Is You. One’s in Elven. One’s a country version with, inexplicably, some late-night TV host caterwauling over the chorus. One’s by some Orlesian crooner called Michel de Bublé. There’s even one that’s just someone playing the recorder extremely badly over a muffled backing track.

It’s an…interesting mix. As he skips through the songs, though, he can’t help but smile. Whoever this truly ridiculous playlist was meant for is a lucky person. It certainly wasn’t for him.

At least, that’s what he thinks, until he taps back onto his messages app.

Then, his heart does a weird twist in his chest, and the phone suddenly feels like a searing hot coal in his hands. Because, in bold, in the small gap above the text where the sender’s name usually lies, there’s a small line that makes his pulse skip every time his eyes trail over it.

Could this be: Merrill Alerion

Carver nearly drops his phone.

This is a joke, right? It has to be a joke. Carver feels slightly seasick. Quicker than he knew his fingers could work, he’s sent a crappy screenshot to Marian.

This???????

A few seconds pass.

Ri replies with a voice message. The voice message is a long, horrible, joyous screech.

Fuck, Carver thinks. “Fuck!” Carver says, and stuffs his phone back into his pocket.

His heart’s going wild, now; his palms are sweatier than they’ve maybe ever been. The mulled wine suddenly seems like a very good idea: he takes one in each hand, trying to convince himself he doesn’t fucking hate star anise. Time to chug—

Halfway through his first glass, there’s two light knocks at the door.

Carver freezes, glass still at his lips. Then, he realises that in his haste to get the mirror in, he’s left the door open. Panic spears through him, until he remembers that he’s a six-foot-stupid ex-farmer and could definitely take on a burglar. And that burglars probably don’t knock.

Still, this is Kirkwall. Better to be safe than sorry. Carver holds his breath as he sets the glasses down as quietly as he can and starts towards the door. He’s not punched anyone in a while. Maybe the anxiety coursing round his body from that text will finally give him a decent right hook. Maybe if he catches someone trying to steal Merrill’s stuff, it’ll add to the whole chevalier-in-shining-armour thing. Maybe—

A gentle gust of wind flutters through the apartment, and the door swings open, just as Carver’s barely steps away.

When he sees who’s behind the door, he makes a tiny squealing noise that instantly makes him want to cease existing. Rosy-cheeked and smiling, Merrill stands before him. Flecks of snow are caught in her dark hair and on the chunky knitted scarf wrapped around her neck, and her eyes are glittering beneath the Satinalia lights strung up on the street outside. It’s as if she’s haloed, glowing, a beacon against the dark winter’s night.

She looks beautiful.

“Merrill,” he breathes. “I thought you were...”

“Studying?” She’s smiling, and he feels a bit dizzy. “I was. But I finished - just in time, I think! Did you get the message?”

“Uh—the playlist?” he offers. “Yeah.”

“But did you get the message?” she asks again, a grin tugging at the edges of her lips.

Carver frowns. There was a message to get? “I—what?”

“Creators,” Merrill says, half-laughing, glancing up at something above him, then back down. When her gaze locks with his, he feels his heart flutter. “Hawke said making you a playlist would be very smooth. I’m not sure I’m ever very smooth. I guess I’ll not trust your sister again.”

“Smooth?” he echoes, like an idiot.

Then, he remembers what’s hanging above her door. A sprig of mistletoe, tied up with a neat red bow.

Merrill answers him with a laugh, and a kiss, and Carver thinks oh.

[tabloidtoc]

Star, January 11

You can buy a copy of this issue for your very own at my eBay store: https://www.ebay.com/str/bradentonbooks

Cover Story: Hollywood’s Best and Worst Bosses 

Page 1: Shia LaBeouf currently accused of relentless abuse and sexual battery by his ex FKA Twigs was snapped making out with Margaret Qualley after she arrived at LAX for a solid 10 minutes and holding up traffic -- the PDA session was the first time Shia and Margaret who is the daughter of Andie MacDowell were spotted out in public together but the two got well-acquainted a few months ago rolling around naked for a NSFW music video for a song by the actress’ sister Rainey Qualley a.k.a. Rainsford -- Shia went out of his way to charm Margaret as soon as they met and he wooed her with compliments and gifts and flowers and texts and spur-of-the-moment dates where he’d just show up at her house but her friends are concerned because Twigs’ lawsuit against Shia alleges multiple incidents of abuse including choking her in her sleep and knowingly giving her a sexually transmitted disease -- Shia said many of those allegations are not true and he is in a 12-step program and therapy for PTSD and alcoholism

Page 2: Contents, Prince William and Duchess Kate with kids Prince George and Princess Charlotte and Prince Louis for a Christmas card 

Page 3: Candice Swanepoel in a bathing suit in Miami, Jennifer Garner stepped out to run errands in a mask and an expressive sweater in L.A., Ryan Reynolds cuddled up with a puppy to encourage his Instagram followers to donate to the SickKids Foundation 

Page 4: Friends of Johnny Depp are keeping their distance as he gears up for another ugly defamation trial against ex-wife Amber Heard -- after losing the case against a U.K. newspaper that called him a wife beater and a scathing feature in The Hollywood Reporter that dubbed the star radioactive and his career all but dead, former pals want nothing to do with him -- the likes of Jude Law, Leonardo DiCaprio and Channing Tatum have been backpeddling on Johnny and it’s making him furious but to be fair Johnny had already alienated Leo and Channing by calling them Pumpkin Head and Potato Head and accusing them of having affairs with Amber -- Jude’s indifference cuts the deepest because for a time he and Johnny were brothers-in-arms as they filmed the second Fantastic Beasts movie and from Johnny’s perspective Jude hasn’t lifted a finger to defend him 

Page 5: Mossimo Giannulli’s son is speaking out claiming the fashion designer is being treated harshly at California’s Federal Correctional Institution in Lompoc and Gianni Giannulli took to social media to complain that because of the pandemic his dad has been locked in solitary confinement for one full month and is only let out every three days for a few moments to shower and Gianni, Mossimo’s son from an earlier relationship, is irate that his father is being mistreated and he feels sorry for his dad and doesn’t want to see him languishing in prison however his half sisters Bela and Olivia Jade don’t seem too bothered by it

* At age 74 Susan Sarandon has had it with men -- she said she hasn’t really had a large dating career and in fact hasn’t had a guy in five years and it’s not that she can’t get a man, it’s just that the men she attracts are losers or sub-par in some way -- she is happy hanging out in her NYC apartment but still friends can’t help trying to fix her up because she’s attractive and in phenomenal shape but the problem is she scares guys away; she’s a force they can’t handle 

* Two years after sharing her shock diagnosis with multiple sclerosis Selma Blair is struggling with pain and fear -- she was recently spotted getting emotional outside a West Hollywood cannabis shop and she has turned to medical marijuana to soothe symptoms of the chronic immune-system disorder which can include fatigue, spasticity, walking issues, numbness, weakness, vision issues and pain -- on some days she can’t even get out of bed but she’s trying to stay strong for her son Arthur and smile more for him but it’s been hard 

Page 6: Julianne Hough appears to be sweetness and light but she’s a heartbreaker according to her ex Chuck Wicks who split from Julianne in 2009 -- in a revealing podcast Chuck blasted Julianne saying they were both loving life then out of nowhere you find out that they are not the person you thought they were and you break up -- Chuck admitted that he and Julianne agreed to say their split was amicable but it wasn’t fine and it wasn’t his fault

* After holing up at his Oklahoma spread Blake Shelton and Gwen Stefani are having a blast decorating their 13,000-square-foot $13.2 million new home in the Encino area of California’s San Fernando Valley -- the home sits on 1.6 ultra-private acres behind double gates and extensive walls and features a pool and fabulous views -- inside the engaged pair give each other space: Gwen wants a dance studio and Blake gets his own man-cave with a big screen and high-tech surround sound 

* Star Spots the Stars -- Nicky Hilton, Katharine McPhee Foster, Katherine Schwarzenegger Pratt making dairy-free and plant-based holiday appetizers, Jenna Dewan, Natalia Dyer

Page 8: Big Losers -- these stars shed pounds and got healthy in 2020 -- Jessica Simpson, Rebel Wilson, Kelly Osbourne 

Page 10: Star Shots -- Gwen Stefani on the way to the recording studio in Santa Monica, Jerry O’Connell started his morning off with a fresh mimosa and a kiss from one of his dogs, Jodie Turner-Smith is the first Black actress to play Henry VIII’s ill-fated queen Anne Boleyn in a major U.K. TV series in Emley, UK 

Page 11: Nick Cannon pitched in to help distribute 2000 free meal boxes to the Hollywood Food Coalition

Page 12: Demi Moore in a yellow bow for a selfie thanking readers for checking out her memoir, Paris Hilton kicked back for a Coach campaign reintroducing the early-2000s ubiquitous Swinger bag

Page 13: Derek Hough and his dogs Romie and Luna, Irina Shayk striking a pose 

Page 14: Sofia Vergara during a photoshoot, Real Housewives of New York City alum Kristen Taekman is taking advantage of the California winter weather in a bikini in Malibu, Wells Adams takes out the trash in L.A. 

Page 16: Carrie Underwood showed off her comfy at-home style, Vanessa Hudgens and her favorite condiment, Katherine Schwarzenegger celebrates her dog’s birthday 

Page 17: Vanderpump Rules star Tom Sandoval picked up a holiday-themed centerpiece ahead of Christmas in L.A., Katie Holmes slung a guitar over her shoulder in NYC, Dame Joan Collins dropped by The Jonathan Ross Show in London 

Page 18: Normal or Not? Hailey Baldwin shares a glimpse into her beauty routine -- normal, Tiger Woods’ son Charlie showed off his skills ahead of the PNC Championship -- normal 

Page 19: Pete Wentz playing tennis in L.A. -- normal, Pete Davidson hurt himself a few times while making a scarf -- not normal 

Page 20: Fashion -- stars charm in romantic ruffles -- Keke Palmer, Gwyneth Paltrow, Lupita Nyong’o 

Page 21: Kirsten Dunst, Halsey 

Page 24: Ariana Grande announced her engagement to realtor Dalton Gomez with some celebratory shots and she’s telling everyone how she never thought it was possible to be this happy -- the couple began dating in early 2020 when Dalton helped Ariana find a home in L.A. and things hit the fast track amid the health pandemic which saw the two enjoying quality time together in lockdown and realizing they were a perfect fit because they never fight and are totally in sync about how they look at life -- Ariana went straight into wedding mode already deciding on an intimate outdoor setting in mid-2021

Page 25: Jon Hamm stepped out in L.A. recently with girlfriend Anna Osceola and she was showing off a noticeably rounder midsection and there’s a good chance the two are pregnant because they’ve been actively trying to get into the family way -- though Jon admitted in 2016 that having children isn’t necessarily an imperative Jon may have changed his tune after his year-long relationship with Anna and hitting the big 5-0 in March has him reassessing his life and now having a child has become important to him 

* Mila Kunis and Ashton Kutcher will be camping in style now that they’ve purchased a $140K Mercedes Benz Sprinter and they’re preparing to embark on an adventure  -- with sleeping accommodations for four and a kitchen the spacious luxury vehicle is perfect for the couple and their two kids -- other stars can spend their vacations in five-star resorts but Mila and Ashton prefer to keep things alfresco and it’s a tradition they’ve kept all these years; this is their idea of a perfectly fun vacation

Page 26: Cover Story -- Hollywood’s Best and Worst Bosses -- who’s great to work for and who makes employees’ lives a misery -- Jennifer Hudson -- best

Page 27: Jennifer Lopez -- worst, Rihanna -- best, Kenny Chesney -- best, Mariah Carey -- worst, Gwyneth Paltrow -- worst 

Page 28: Keanu Reeves -- best, Sandra Bullock -- best, Emma Watson -- worst 

Page 29: George Clooney -- best, Ellen DeGeneres -- worst, Guess the Bad Boss 

Page 30: Tom Cruise and Hayley Atwell: Man on a Mission -- amid all the tension on the set of Mission: Impossible 7 Tom has been pursuing his costar Hayley to be his next girlfriend and it seems to be working -- Tom has become very active with the U.K. Scientology Branch and is very taken with English women like Hayley and he’d like to make the U.K. his home base -- handcuffed to each other for several scenes in M:I7 Hayley and Tom were also spotted holding hands when the cameras weren’t rolling 

Page 32: Prince Harry and Meghan Markle’s very L.A. Christmas -- the prince spends the holidays 5000 miles away from the royal family but Meghan’s mom Doria Ragland was on hand for the festivities -- the couple were intending to call Queen Elizabeth on Christmas morning otherwise they were happy to celebrate a low-key holiday 

Page 38: Entertainment 

Page 48: Parting Shot -- Sophie Turner and Joe Jonas suited up to hit the slopes stopping by a local store to pick up goodies before changing into warmer gear in Mammoth Lakes in California -- the couple are familiar faces in the ski town and looking forward they will be able to plan even more snowy getaways now that they’ve listed their NYC apartment for $5.9 million and moved full-time to Encino 

[spn-safeandsound]

02. Saving the Day

Safe and Sound

Dean Winchester x Original Character

Episode: 1x02; Wendigo

Word Count: 8,436

Warning(s): Mature language, canon violence and gore

Author’s Note: I hope you enjoy! Reblog and like!

Masterlist in Profile Description!

"Dean, please."

"Nope."

"I'll do anything."

"No fucking way, Junior."

"Oh, Dean, come on!" Julia whined, falling back against her seat. "Just one song. You'll like it, I swear."

"I'm not listening to Mariah Carey or Carrie Underwear," Dean scowled at her in the rearview mirror.

"Well, I don't even like country, so..." she shook her head. "And I think you would like Fall Out Boy."

"I think I wouldn't," Dean retorted.

"What about Elton John?" Julia raised her eyebrows at him. "He has older music. My mom loved him."

Dean's face visibly softened when she spoke about her mother. He knew she missed her, especially since the fourth anniversary of her death was coming up. He didn't blame her. Naomi Petersen was a great lady and had treated him and Sam as her own, even though she already had four children to take care of. He could still remember the taste of her famous peach cobbler. He wasn't usually a cobbler man, either, but he couldn't turn down Naomi's food.

"Fine," he gave in reluctantly; Elton John wasn't that bad anyway. "but only one."

The smile that Julia gave him was worth more than one song but he kept quiet, not wanting to give away complete control of his music. If Julia knew that flashing a smile would get her whatever she wanted from him—like it did for the rest of the world—he was done for.

Julia dug her cassette jack that she bought at the last gas station out of her bag and practically climbed over the front seat. She was careful not to hit a sleeping Sam because he really needed the rest; he hadn't been sleeping much since Jess and she spent most of the nights they shared motel rooms making sure he was okay.

She set up the jack and plugged in her iPod, turning it to her mom's favorite song.

Blue jean baby, L.A. lady, seamstress for the band...

Julia let out a relaxed sigh as she practically melted back into her seat. She smiled softly as she listened to the lyrics, remembering all the times her mom sang this song to her while she was growing up.

Her mom had been a dancer for years in her childhood and well into her adulthood. That was how her parents met, actually. When she was in college, her mom was in a recital that her dad coincidentally went to during one of his earlier hunts. He used to tell Julia that he was mesmerized by her mother and that she really was his tiny dancer.

Hold me closer, tiny dancer...

Dean appreciated the silence that fell over Julia because it seemed like she was always talking. And she was actually staying still, a stark contrast to her chronic fidgeting that drove Sam nuts. What he appreciated more than that was the small and contented smile on her face. It seemed like it was the first time he saw that smile in days; she had been grieving Jess, too, and trying to take care of Sam at the same time.

Despite being two years younger than his little brother, she had always been one of his caretakers.

You had a busy day today...

Dean let her bask in the last few notes of the song and then unplugged the jack, passing it back to her without a word. Julia was just as silent as she took it from him, her lips turning up at the corners when he popped in one of his cassettes.

Sam awoke with a start as the drum beat kicked in. Dean gave him a hesitant look as Julia leaned forward worriedly.

"You okay?" she asked him, trying not to hover as much as she had been the last few days.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Sam answered groggily, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Another nightmare?" it was Dean who asked this time.

Sam cleared his throat loudly, refusing to answer.

"You wanna drive for a while?" Dean offered.

Sam laughed in amazement. "Dean, your whole life you never once asked me that."

"Just thought you might want to," Dean shrugged casually. "Never mind."

Sam looked between Dean and Julia; he could easily read the worried look on Julia's face but Dean's was a little bit harder to decipher. "Look, guys, you're worried about me," he acknowledged. "I get and thank you, but I'm perfectly okay."

Dean hummed doubtfully. Sam looked back at Julia for her reaction but she just smiled sweetly and looked over to Dean, changing the subject as a distraction for Sam.

"You know, I can drive—"

"I don't think so, Julia," Dean cut her off, causing her to pout at him.

"All right," Sam chuckled and looked back at her. "where are we?"

"Um..." she looked at the handheld GPS that she was in charge of while Sam slept and found where they were. "we are just outside of Grand Junction."

Sam sighed and grabbed the GPS so he could look at the location of the coordinates John gave them. "You know what, maybe we shouldn't have left Stanford so soon."

Dean blinked slowly; Sam always got so depressed when he brought up what happened to Jessica and it was starting to worry him. "Sam, we dug around there for a week and we came up with nothing. If you wanna find the thing that killed Jessica—"

"We gotta find Dad first," Sam finished, having already heard this speech before.

"Dad disappearing and this thing showing up again after twenty years, it's no coincidence," Dean theorized. "Dad will have answers. He'll know what to do."

Sam shook his head and focused on the device in his hands. "It's weird, man," he changed the subject and studied the map. "these coordinates he left us, this Blackwater Ridge..."

"What about it?" Julia spoke up, leaning her chin on the front seat.

"There's nothing there," he informed her and Dean. "It's just woods. Why is he sending us to the middle of nowhere?"

Dean didn't answer as they drove into the town of Lost Creek. They headed straight to the ranger's station so they could look at a 3-D model of the area around Blackwater Ridge.

"So, Blackwater Ridge is pretty remote," Sam sighed as he pointed at the location on the model. "It's cut off by these canyons here. Rough terrain, dense forest, abandoned silver and gold mines all over the place."

Though Julia was listening curiously, Dean wasn't paying an ounce of attention. His focus was on the huge taxidermized grizzly bear on display.

"Dude, check out the size of this fucking bear!"

Julia smiled at his childlike amazement and added, "And I'm guessing a couple of grizzlies?"

"A dozen or so," Sam confirmed with a grin as they walked over to stand by Dean. "It's no nature hike, that's for sure."

"You three aren't planning on going out near Blackwater Ridge by any chance?" a ranger walked up to them, narrowing his eyes.

"Oh, no, sir," Sam assured him politely. "we're environmental study majors from UC Boulder. We're just working on a paper."

"Recycle, man," Dean held up a supportive fist.

"Bull," the ranger called them out, his eyes flitting to each one of them. "you're friends with that Haley girl, right?"

"Actually, we are," Julia played along, sending him a sweet smile. "Ranger Wilkinson."

The older man looked charmed by her, though not in a way that she considered sexual. Maybe he was just fond of a kind soul now or then.

"Well," Ranger Wilkinson's voice was considerably nicer, causing Sam and Dean to exchange impressed looks. "I will tell you exactly what I told her. Her brother filled out a backcountry permit saying her wouldn't be back from Blackwater Ridge until the twenty-fourth."

Julia nodded understandingly.

"It's not exactly a missing-persons, is it?" Ranger Wilkinson asked rhetorically. "You tell that girl to quit worrying. I'm sure her brother's just fine."

"We will," Dean promised with a smirk. "Well, that Haley girl's quite a pistol, huh?"

The ranger nodded in agreement, grabbing his coffee mug off the large front desk. "That is putting it mildly."

"Actually, you know what would help is if I could show her a copy of that backcountry permit," Dean said casually. "You know, so she could see her brother's return date."

"I'm sure that will calm her down," Julia added.

Dean had to admit it was nice having a pretty girl around to convince people to cooperate with them. Ranger Wilkinson melted at the pleading look Julia sent him and quickly copied the backcountry permit so they could take it to Haley. He gave it to her with a smile and a fond goodbye as they left the station.

"What, are you cruising for a hookup or something?" Sam asked Dean as they walked to the Impala.

Dean gave him a confused look. "What do you mean?"

"The coordinates point to Blackwater Ridge," Sam pointed out. "so what are we waiting for? Let's just go find Dad. I mean, why even talk to this girl?"

"I don't know, maybe we should know what we're walking into before we actually walk into it?" Dean said obviously. He gave his brother that had Sam stiffening in irritation.

"What?"

"Since when are you all shoot-first-ask-questions-later, anyway?"

"Since now," Sam's voice went flat.

Dean gave Sam an unimpressed look as he got into the car but before he open his mouth to speak again, Julia cut him off. Sam was delicate right now, no matter how tough he acted, and his emotions were all over the place. She didn't need the brothers to have a big blowout right now.

Dean sighed and got into the car. An hour later—after Dean stopped to make a fake ranger ID—they were knocking on the door of the address they got from Tommy Collins' backcountry permit.

The door opened and a pretty brunette a couple inches taller than Julia greeted them.

"You must be Haley Collins," Dean grinned at her. "I'm Dean and this is Sam and Julia. We're, uh, rangers with the Park Service. Ranger Wilkinson sent us over. We wanted to ask a few questions about your brother, Tommy."

Haley pressed her lips together as she looked them over. "Let me see some ID."

Dean pulled the fresh ID out of his wallet and presented it to her with a smile. Haley quickly looked it over and opened the screen door to let them into the house.

"Come on in," her eyes swept past Dean and locked on the Impala. "That yours?"

Dean nodded. "Yeah."

"Nice car," she said, impressed. She walked away from the door, leading them through the front room to the dining room. Julia and Sam exchanged eye rolls as Dean gave them a salacious grin, his eyes trailing to Haley's back.

There was a younger kid sitting at the table when they entered the dining room, frowning down at his placemat as he waited for his dinner to be served. He looked up when he heard their arrival and Julia smiled at him in greeting but his eyes quickly avoided her.

"So, if Tommy's not due back for a while, how do you know something's wrong?" Sam asked Haley as she walked into the kitchen and grabbed a hot serving bowl.

"He checks in everyday by cell," Haley brought the bowl to the table. "He emails photos and stupid little videos. We haven't heard anything in over three days now."

"Maybe he can't get cell reception?" Julia suggested.

Haley shook her head. "He's got a satellite phone, too."

"Could it be he's just having fun and forgot to check in?"

The kid, Ben, looked up in offense at Dean's comment. "He wouldn't do that!"

Ben, who sounded much older than he looked, looked down, ashamed at his outburst. Julia gave him a reassuring smile, hoping that he wasn't feeling uncomfortable in his own home because of them.

"Our parents are gone," Haley informed the three of them. "It's just my two brothers and me. We all keep pretty close tabs on each other."

Julia knew a little of what that was like. Despite her dad being alive, he didn't check in with his children much. So, Julia, her brother, and her sisters all made sure they were okay in the meantime. Levi, the oldest twin and only son, always made sure they were all safe. Bethany, the oldest sister, mothered over Julia and Abby like it was her job. Abby, the middle child and previously the only hunter of the siblings, checked in to make sure everyone was keeping up on their self-defense and protective charms. And Julia did all of the above, just making sure that her siblings knew that she loved them more than anything. They didn't always get along but they were family—who didn't argue with their siblings?

From the look in Dean's eye, Julia knew that he could relate to Haley, too.

Sam nodded understandingly. "Can I see the pictures he sent you?"

"Yeah," Haley pulled out her laptop and pulled up the most recent video that her brother sent. A man a few years older than Haley with the same dark hair as his younger siblings flashed onto the screen. "That's Tommy."

"Hey, Haley," the video played. "Day six. We're still out near Blackwater Ridge. We're fine, keeping safe, so don't worry, okay? Talk to you tomorrow."

Julia caught Sam making an intrigued face and wondered what he saw on the video that she or the others hadn't.

"Well, we'll find your brother," Dean assured Haley. "We're heading out to Blackwater Ridge first thing."

"Then maybe I'll see you there," Haley replied; she saw the look of confusion Dean gave her. "Look, I can't sit around here anymore, so, I hired a guide. I'm heading out in the morning and I'm gonna find Tommy myself."

"I think I know how you feel," Dean stated seriously.

"Hey," Sam interrupted the intense eye staring going on between Dean and Haley, gesturing toward the laptop. "do you mind forwarding these to me?"

"Sure," Haley agreed easily.

-

The bar they sat in for a late dinner was loud and filled with local college kids on Thanksgiving break. Julia was used to the loud scenery of college bars, though, being a college kid herself, and she had to admit the burgers she and Dean ordered were good. She was just paranoid that someone would catch on to the fact that she was underage—her fake was great but she was always worried every time she walked into a bar.

She didn't drink anything alcoholic just in case. She spent most of her time learning how to research the meticulous way that Sam likes it to be done, both of them searching for any local history of mysterious disappearances having to do with Blackwater Ridge.

"So, Blackwater Ridge doesn't get a lot of traffic," Sam told Dean as he sat down with a fresh beer. "Local campers, mostly. Still, this past April, two hikers went missing out there. They were never found."

"Any before that?" Dean asked as Sam opened John's journal.

Julia cleared her throat, looking down at the local newspapers they had collected. "Yeah, in 1982, eight different people all vanished in the same year. The rangers said it was a grizzly attack."

She slid a newspaper over to Dean, the headline reading, UP TO EIGHT HIKERS VANISH IN LOST CREEK AREA. HIKER'S DISAPPEARANCE BAFFLE AUTHORITIES.

"And again in 1959 and again, before that in 1936," she finished. "Every twenty-three years this happens."

"Like clockwork," Sam commented, opening his laptop now. He moved it so Dean and Julia could see. "Okay, watch this. Here's the clincher. I downloaded that guy, Tommy's, video to the laptop. Check this out."

There was a video on the screen. Sam pressed play, showing a slowed-down version of Tommy's video. Julia's eyes widened in surprise when she saw a shadow move behind the missing man.

Dean blinked. "Do it again."

Sam played the frames again. "That's three frames," he told them. "That's a fraction of a second. Whatever that thing is, it can move."

Dean excitedly hit Sam in the shoulder, a know-it-all expression on his face. "I told you something weird was going on."

Sam nodded in agreement, only looking a little annoyed by Dean's smugness.

"One more thing," Julia spoke up. "In fifty-nine, one camper survived this supposed grizzly attack. It was a kid and he barely made it out alive."

Dean raised one eyebrow. "Is there a name?"

Julia smirked and passed him the newspaper.

-

The next morning, Julia, Dean, and Sam set out to find Haley and Ben before they could go up to Blackwater Ridge on their own. They carried multiple weapons because they weren't exactly sure what they were going up against.

The night before, after leaving the bar, they questioned the witness that Julia discovered. He was an old man now but his memory of the night his parents were killed by whatever was out there was still fresh in his mind. The bear—or what the rangers were calling a bear, anyway—had unlocked the cabin the man was staying at, slaughtering his parents while he was asleep. Dean thought that the creature might be a skinwalker or a black dog but he and Sam both agreed that whatever it was, it was corporeal.

Sam wasn't happy about their babysitting job but Dean wouldn't hear about leaving Haley and Ben to fend for themselves. He was adamant that they continue like any other case while Sam was just gunning to find his dad. Julia, on the other hand, went with the flow, not wanting to get in the middle of one of their notorious arguments.

Dean pulled the Impala up to the trail entrance where Haley, Ben, and an older man were talking. They got out of the car, Julia being the only one actually prepared for a long hike.

"You guys got room for three more?" Dean asked Haley as he locked his car.

"Wait, you want to come with us?" Haley said skeptically.

"Who are these guys?" the older man looked the three of them over with disdain—especially the duffle bag that Sam was carrying over his shoulder.

"Apparently, this is all the park service could muster up for the search and rescue," Haley informed him.

The man raised his eyebrows. "You're rangers?"

"That's right," Dean said confidently.

"And you're hiking out in biker boots and jeans?"

Julia smirked, having had the same argument with Sam and Dean before they left their motel room, and passed by her to stand with Sam. "I told him the same thing."

"I don't do shorts!" Dean called after her.

The man didn't look impressed with Dean's cocky tone. "Oh, you think this is funny? It's dangerous backcountry out there. Her brother might be hurt."

Julia turned back to Dean, begging him with her eyes not to lose his temper on the naïve man.

"Believe me, I know how dangerous this could get," Dean stated firmly. "We just wanna help her find her brother, that's all."

The group of them started up the trail, all six of them walking in a single-file line. Roy—the older man—led them with Haley and Dean in front, Julia and Ben in the middle, and Sam bringing up the rear.

As they hiked, Julia shared some of her trail mix with Ben, who was turning out to be a sweet kid. He didn't talk much—he was clearly very worried about his older brother—but he spoke with her a little about how his freshman year of high school was going.

"Roy," Dean spoke up about two hours into the hike. "you said you did a little hunting."

"Yeah," Roy answered reluctantly, clearly not wanting to talk to the younger man. "more than a little."

"Uh-huh," Dean wasn't bothered by the man's grumpiness. "What kind of furry critters do you hunt?"

"Mostly buck, sometimes bear."

Dean sped up, passing Roy in line. "Tell me, did Bambi or Yogi ever hunt you back?"

Roy didn't answer as he reached forward, grabbing the back of Dean's jacket to stop him from continuing. Julia and Sam stiffened, ready to intervene in case the men got a little violent.

"Whatcha doing, Roy?" Dean asked warningly.

Roy let go of his jacket and bent down, picking a stick up off the forest floor. He held it down to the ground, where there was a freaking bear trap, and pressed the stick into it. It popped up, chopping the stick in half.

Julia's eyes widened; Dean was about to step in that!

"You should watch where you're stepping, Ranger," Roy advised Dean with a knowing smirk.

Dean pressed his lips together and clenched his jaw as Roy walked past him, looking back at the others. "It's a bear trap," he informed them needlessly.

"Yeah," Julia rolled her eyes to hide her worry. "We noticed."

As they hiked on, Haley confronted Dean, severely annoyed, "You didn't pack any provisions. You guys are carrying a duffle bag," she pointed out, grabbing Dean's arm to stop him. "So, who the hell are you?"

Julia didn't envy Dean, who now had to explain to Haley what they were actually doing out here. She smirked at him as she and Ben passed him and Haley. Sam paused a little but when Dean nodded at him to go on, he continued and caught up to Julia and Ben.

"You don't eat the M&Ms first?" Ben asked Julia curiously as she continued munching on her trail mix. "That's what I do."

"Well," Julia handed him a couple of M&Ms, which he threw in his mouth. "They're my favorite part of trail mix and I probably wouldn't eat the stuff if there weren't any in there. I save them for last to make sure I eat the healthy stuff first."

Ben nodded. "That makes sense."

"My best friend here is a health nut," she gestured to Sam, who rolled his eyes. "He likes to keep an eye on me."

"You have an insufferable sweet tooth," Sam interjected.

"Bite me," Julia playfully snapped back at him.

Ben gave them a small smile; Julia was happy that she could help get his mind off of his missing brother.

Only an hour later, they arrived at their destination.

"This is it," Roy declared, looking at his GPS. "Blackwater Ridge."

Sam stepped around him and stopped, looking around at the trees. "What coordinates are we at?"

"Thirty-five and minus one-eleven."

Dean wandered over to Julia and Sam. "You hear that?"

Julia stopped, listened, and nodded; the thing was, there wasn't anything to hear. That was the whole problem. There should be some noise considering the fact that they were in the middle of the woods.

"Yeah," Sam confirmed. "Not even crickets."

"I'm gonna go take a quick look around," Roy told Haley and Ben, causing Julia and the brothers to turn around cautiously.

"You shouldn't go off by yourself," Sam advised, knowing that it was too dangerous for a regular hunter in the woods around here.

"That's sweet," Roy scoffed mockingly and raised the shotgun he had been carrying around. "Don't worry about me."

"Just let him go," Julia grabbed Sam's arm to stop him from following Roy out of the area. "He's an asshole anyway."

Dean made a noise of agreement as Haley and Ben joined them. "All right, everybody stays together. Let's go."

Despite the fact that they all wanted to leave Roy—besides Haley and Ben—they followed the older man anyway. It didn't take long for Roy to find something and when he did, he called for Haley.

She took off at the sound of her name and the rest of them followed her. They came across a campsite that was absolutely ravaged apart. The tents were shredded with some blood on the bigger parts, there was clothing everywhere, and food packages flattened into the muddy ground.

"Oh, my God," Haley breathed.

"Looks like a grizzly," Roy examined the mess.

"Tommy?" Haley called her brother's name, unclipping her backpack. "Tommy!"

"Shh!" Sam hissed at her, jogging over to her side to calm her down.

"Tommy!"

Sam shushed her again and Haley whipped around to face him with an angry stare.

"Why?"

"Something might still be out there," Sam answered.

As Sam and Haley spoke, Dean gently took Julia's arm and pulled her away from Ben. He led her a couple of feet away from the tent, looking at the ground intently. Once he saw what he was looking for, he called his brother's name to get his attention.

"The bodies were dragged from the campsite. But here," Dean explained to Julia as Sam made his way over, pointing to where the tracks stopped. "the tracks just vanish."

"That's weird," Julia wrinkled her nose.

Dean nodded at her. "I'll tell you what, it's no skinwalker or black dog."

Sam nodded in agreement and the three of them wandered back over to Haley, Ben, and Roy. Haley was perched on the ground, holding onto a broken cell phone and crying lightly. Julia guessed that it had been Tommy's.

Dean crouched next to her to offer some comfort. "Hey, he could still be alive."

Haley gave him a look, clearly not believing him.

And then, there was a scream from somewhere in the woods.

"HELP! HELP!"

Dean pulled his gun from his jacket as he, Roy, and Sam took off running toward the voice. Julia, Haley, and Ben followed them at a slightly slower speed, all of them hoping that it was Tommy that was alive and screaming for help.

However, when they came upon a clearing, there was no one there.

"It seemed like it was coming from around here, didn't it?" Haley asked, slightly out of breath.

Sam looked around cautiously. "Everybody back to camp."

They ran back to the messy campsite where Sam's duffle bag and Ben, Roy, and Haley's packs were missing.

"Our packs!" Haley groaned.

"So much for my GPS and satellite phone," Roy grumbled.

"What the hell is going on?" Haley turned to Sam and Dean for answers.

"It's smart," Sam said bitterly. "It wants to cut us off so we can't call for help."

"You're saying someone—some nutjob out there just stole all our gear?" Roy's voice was flat as his eyes darted around the trees.

Sam rolled his eyes at the older man and walked over to Dean and Julia, who were each searching the outer rims of the campsite to see if the creature left anything behind.

"I need to speak with you in private," Sam told them quietly, leading them a couple of feet away from the others so they couldn't overhear. "Okay, let me see Dad's journal."

Dean immediately looked to Julia, who pulled off her backpack and unzipped it. She reached in and grabbed the journal from atop the water bottles she packed, handing it to Sam without a word.

Sam flipped through the pages until he found what he was looking for. "All right, check that out," he showed Dean and Julia, pointing out a sketch which looked like a weird stick-figure drawing that reminded Julia of the First Nations.

"Oh, come on," Dean scoffed. "Wendigos are in the Minnesota woods or Northern Michigan. I've never heard of one this far west."

"Dad hunted one in North Dakota once," Julia recalled unhelpfully. Her dad hadn't been expecting the creature since they normally didn't pop up west of Minnesota and he had come home from his hunt badly injured. Julia's mom didn't let him out of the house for a whole week.

"Think about it, Dean," Sam tried to convince his brother. "The claws, the way it can mimic a human voice."

"Great," Dean muttered sarcastically, pulling his gun from his jacket. "Well, then this is useless."

"What kills wendigos?" Julia asked them.

"Fire," Dean told her. "Flare gun, flamethrower, torch, Molotov cocktail. Anything that can blow the fucker up."

Julia winced; that sounded like hard work especially since wendigos were apparently lighting speed fast.

"We gotta get these people to safety," Sam declared as he started heading back to the campsite. When they arrived, he got the others' attention. "All right listen up. It's time to go. Things have gotten more complicated."

"What?" Haley looked at him in shock.

Julia put John's journal back in her bag as Roy gave Sam an annoyed look.

"Kid, don't worry," he stated. "Whatever's out there, I think I can handle it."

"It's not me I'm worried about," Sam replied. "If you shoot this thing, you're just gonna make it mad. We have to leave, now."

"One, you're talking nonsense," Roy faced Sam head-on. "Two, you're in no position to give anybody orders."

"Relax!" Dean warned him, not liking his tone.

"We never should have let you come out here in the first place, all right?" Sam continued, trying to get them to leave. "I'm trying to protect you."

Roy stepped forward, getting in Sam's face. "You protect me?" he laughed mockingly. "I was hunting these woods when your mommy was still kissing you goodnight."

"Hey," Julia snapped at him, bristling at the man's verbal attack. "Back off."

Sam glowered at Roy, losing his temper. "It's a damn near perfect hunter. It's smarter than you and it's gonna hunt you down and eat you alive unless we get your stupid, sorry ass out of here."

"You know you're crazy, right?"

"Yeah?" Sam retorted back. "You ever hunt a wen—"

Dean pushed him away from Roy before he could finish his sentence; Julia grabbed Sam's arm, holding him in place just in case he wanted to beat the shit out of Roy.

"Roy!"

"Chill out!"

"Stop it," Haley protested, stepping in the middle of Sam, Julia, Dean, and Roy. "Everybody just stop. Look, Tommy might still be alive and I'm not leaving here without him."

Dean looked at Julia and Sam before sighing. "It's getting late," he pointed out. "This thing is a good hunter in the day but an unbelievable hunter at night. We'll never beat it, not in the dark. We need to settle in and protect ourselves."

"How?"

Dean held out his hand toward Julia at Haley's question. She gave him a look, annoyed that he just expected her to have his dad's journal out and ready, and pulled the backpack off her shoulders once again. She handed him the journal and pulled out her water bottles, handing three of them to Ben, Haley, and Roy so they could keep hydrated.

Dean flipped through the journal until he got to the pages about the wendigo. He found what he was looking for, a row of protective symbols that would keep the wendigo away from them, and he and Sam got to work on etching them into the dirt around the campsite.

As it got dark, Roy and Ben started a fire so they could keep warm and be able to see who—or what—was around them.

"Okay, so what exactly are these?" Julia asked Dean, hovering behind him as he drew in the dirt with a large stick.

"Anasazi symbols," Dean spoke loud enough so everyone could hear, Julia having told Haley, Ben, and Roy what exactly they were up against. "It's for protection. The wendigo can't cross over them."

Roy laughed in disbelief, slinging his gun over his shoulder.

Dean gave him an annoyed look. "Nobody likes a skeptic, Roy."

Dean stood up and walked over to where Sam was sitting on a log, a melancholy look on his face. Julia let them have their privacy and went back to join Ben and Haley at the fire.

"So, how do you know about all of this?" Haley asked her quietly.

"Honestly, I'm still training," Julia admitted. "but my family has always been involved and Sam and Dean grew up in this. It's like a family business for all of us."

"Your families do this?"

"My dad and one of my older sisters, yeah," Julia confirmed. "Sam and Dean's dad hunts, too."

"Does it scare you?"

"Yeah, of course," Julia said honestly. "It scares the crap out of me but it's better that I know and help out than other people dying, right?"

Haley nodded and Ben looked thoughtful. Suddenly, a voice—the same voice that called for help earlier—started shouting in the distance. Everyone perked up at the noise, getting to their feet in shock and fear.

Dean pulled his gun out of his jacket while Sam flooded the area in light with his large flashlight.

"He's trying to draw us out," Dean stated, cocking his gun. "Just stay cool and stay put."

"Inside the magic circle?" Roy scoffed, raising his own gun for protection.

Everyone ignored his skepticism as the voice shouted again.

"Okay," Roy admitted. "that's no grizzly."

Ben hurriedly grabbed Haley's hand and burrowed into her, frightened beyond belief. Haley had an equally afraid look on her face and held her little brother tightly so she could protect him.

"It's okay," Julia assured them with a calming smile. "You'll be all right, I promise."

Something rushed past the campsite, too fast for anyone to see. Haley shrieked in fear and Ben squeaked; ignoring her own fear, Julia took a protective step toward them.

"It's here," Sam muttered darkly.

As the wendigo sped past them again, Roy shot his gun. Nothing happened but when he took another shot, it sounded like something took a hit. Whether or not it was the actual wendigo and not a tree, Julia didn't know.

"I hit it!" Roy crowed before rushing out of the protective circle to see just what he shot.

"Roy, no!" Dean called after him. He looked back at Julia, Haley, and Ben and warned them not to move before running in the direction where Roy took off. Sam rushed after him and Julia kept a sharp lookout, flashing her light around every couple of seconds.

They couldn't see what was happening to Roy, Dean, and Sam but they could hear shouting. Dean was calling for Roy and Roy was shouting back but his voice abruptly got cut off, putting them in an uneasy silence.

"Roy?" Dean shouted into the quiet.

Within minutes, the brothers came back without Roy in tow.

-

The night passed slowly with Dean and Sam taking shifts to watch out for the wendigo. Julia mostly sat with Sam—who didn't seem to sleep even when he wasn't on watch—restless from the lack of bed and intense paranoia she was having.

They didn't talk as they sat side-by-side, Julia's head resting on his shoulder. They often had silences like this, it was comfortable and it was sometimes relaxing just to stop talking and get lost in your thoughts—that was Julia's point of view, anyway.

"I don't," Haley spoke up a half-hour after sunrise. Julia and Sam were in the same spot, against a tree trunk, and Sam was playing with his dad's rosary. "I mean, these types of things—they aren't supposed to be real."

"I wish I could tell you differently," Dean sighed.

"How do we know it's not out there watching us?"

"We don't but we're safe for now."

"Julia said that you grew up knowing this stuff," Haley said hesitantly; Julia perked up at the mention of her name but laid her head back down on Sam's shoulder once she realized that it was just a passing mention.

"It runs in the family," Dean confirmed.

Sam patted Julia's knee, warning her that he was getting up, and stood up when Julia leaned away from him. Julia hopped to her feet right away, picking up her water bottle to take a sip. They walked over to Dean, Haley, and Ben, who were all in the middle of the protective circle.

"Hey," Sam greeted them; Haley stood up to face him. "So, we've got half a chance in the daylight. And I, for one, want to kill this evil son of a bitch."

"Well, hell, you know I'm in," Dean grinned at his brother. "Give them the rundown, Sammy."

Sam opened up John's journal where he used the rosary as a bookmark and started to explain to Haley and Ben about wendigos. "Wendigo is a Cree Indian word. It means evil that devours."

"They're hundreds of years old," Dean added. "Each one was once a man. Sometimes an Indian or other times a frontiersman or a miner or a hunter."

"How's a man turn into one of those things?" Haley asked curiously.

"Well, it's always the same," he answered. "During some harsh winter, a guy finds himself starving, cut off from supplies or help. He becomes a cannibal to survive, eating other members of his tribe or camp."

"Like the Donner party," Ben supplied.

"Exactly," Julia confirmed.

"Cultures all over the world believe that eating human flesh gives a person certain abilities," Sam continued on with the lesson. "Speed, strength, immortality."

"If you eat enough of it, over the years you become this less-than-human thing," Dean stated. "You're always hungry."

"If that's true, how can Tommy still be alive?"

"You're not gonna like it," Dean sighed, exchanging a hesitant look with Sam before continuing, "More than anything, a wendigo knows how to last long winters without food. It hibernates for years at a time. When it's awake, it keeps its victims alive. It, uh, stores them so it can feed whenever it wants. If your brother's alive, it's keeping him somewhere dark, hidden, and safe. We gotta track it back there."

"And then how do we stop it?"

"Well, guns are useless and so are knives," Dean sighed and picked up a bottle of lighter fluid, a discarded but still intact beer bottle, a white cloth; a homemade Molotov cocktail. "we gotta torch the sucker."

After making a couple of Molotov cocktails, one of which Julia was allowed to hang onto after a stern lecture from an overprotective Dean, they started off in search of the wendigo and whatever cave it was hiding in.

They walked around for a half-hour before Sam spotted some claw marks in the trees, all off them high up and covered in blood. There were a lot of marks, making a circle in the trunks high above their heads.

Julia scrunched her nose; why wouldn't the wendigo cover its tracks? It was like it wanted them to find it.

"Sam, aren't these a little too distinct?" she quietly asked her best friend.

"I was thinking the same thing," he agreed with her. "they're too easy to follow."

A vicious growl came behind their group, causing all of them to whip around. Once they were facing the opposite direction, another screech came from behind them again, moving so fast that the trees rustled like they were in a major storm.

Suddenly, Haley screamed and fell to the ground, looking terrified. Roy's dead body fell right in the spot where she was standing, his neck broken so drastically that his head was almost turned around.

"You okay?" Sam asked her as he helped her to her feet. "You got it?"

"His neck's broken," Dean said needlessly; he stood up and urged them back toward the campsite. "Okay, run, run, run! Go, go, go!"

The five of them took off running, trying to get away from the wendigo as fast as humanly possible. Julia and Ben were at the back and when Ben tripped over an overgrown root in the ground, she accidently dropped her cocktail as she went to help him up.

Sam doubled back to help her and they started running again. They were almost back to the campsite when they heard Haley let out a loud scream. They raced toward the sound, stopping when they didn't see Haley or Dean.

"Shit," Julia sighed anxiously, spotting the Molotov cocktail that Dean had been carrying; it was on the ground, smashed to pieces and very useless. "It took them."

Ben didn't look as panicked as Julia thought he would be since his sister was now missing, as well as his brother. He pulled himself together and clenched his jaw, pushing back his anxiety so he could help find Haley, Dean, and Tommy.

"If it keeps its victims alive why would it kill Roy?" he asked Sam as they continued walking back to the campsite.

"Honestly, I think it's because Roy shot at it and pissed it off," Sam replied; Ben nodded, seeming to accept that answer.

Julia kept her eyes on the ground as she walked, making sure that they wouldn't step in any random bear traps that may be lying around. She gasped excitedly when she saw a large M&M in the mud, more of them following a few inches from each other.

"Look," she pointed them out to Sam and Ben. "Dean's peanut M&Ms."

Sam scoffed in surprise and picked one up. "It's better than breadcrumbs."

They followed the trail of M&Ms to one of the old mines that Sam told her and Dean about the day they got into town. There were signs warning them of intense danger but it was dark and hidden in there; a perfect spot for a wendigo to hide.

Julia, Sam, and Ben stepped through the broken door and made their way further into the mine. Julia pulled out her flashlight the darker it got, illuminating a clear path for them. They heard a growl and hid as the wendigo sped past them, leaving the mine; it was probably searching for them.

Once the wendigo was out of sight, they kept going. Eventually they came upon a larger cave. It was full of old human bones that made Ben flinch in disgust. They also spotted Haley and Ben's hiking gear and in the corner Dean and Haley were hanging up by their arms, both of them unconscious.

Julia sighed in immense relief and sped toward Dean, Sam right on her heels. To be honest, she had been so worried about him and was afraid she might never see him again. If they all got out of this alive, she was going to tease him about being a damsel in distress just to see that annoyed look in his green eyes that she secretly liked.

"Dean!" she exclaimed, reaching for his torso to shake him awake. While she did this, Sam reached up and started cutting at the rope that detained him with one of his knives. "Hey, Dean, wake up. Rise and shine, sleeping beauty."

Dean grunted as he slowly blinked. "Shut up."

Julia beamed at him and laughed softly, bracing him against her as his rope finally broke. Sam went to help Ben get Haley down and Julia slowly helped Dean sit down on the stone floor.

"Are you all right?" Julia asked softly as he groaned in pain.

"Yeah, yeah," Dean assured her quickly. "Where is it?"

"It's gone for now," she told him.

Haley stood up when she was freed from her ropes, way better off than Dean was. She gasped when she saw her older brother hung up in another corner. She, Ben, and Sam went over to him, waking him up and freeing him from his bindings.

Dean huffed and looked over at the bags Julia had set him down by, spotting a few flare guns that would really be helpful. He grabbed three of them, giving one to Julia, and slowly and painfully got to his feet.

"Check it out," he walked over to Sam with a slight limp.

"Flare guns," Sam grinned while Dean twirled two of them dramatically. "Those'll work."

They started out of the cave, Julia and Dean in front of the group—helping a man that was almost a foot taller than her walk was actually hard work—with Ben, Haley, and Tommy supporting each other in the middle, and Sam in the back to protect them.

The wendigo growled threateningly as it came back into the mine and Julia figured that it was upset she, Sam, and Ben weren't back at the campsite for it to bring home to dinner.

"Looks like someone's home for supper," Dean spoke quietly.

"We'll never outrun it," Haley said worriedly.

Dean looked back at them, his eyes flitting over everyone in the group. Finally, he pointedly looked at Sam last. "You thinking what I'm thinking?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah, I think so."

"All right," Dean caught the attention of the Collins siblings. "listen to me. Stay with Julia, she's gonna get you out of here."

"What are you guys going to do?" Julia gave him a concerned look.

Dean gave her a dramatic—and only slightly attractive—wink and pulled away from her. He started running back down the mine with Sam on his heels, both of them screaming for the attention of the wendigo.

"Chow time, you fuckin' bastard!" Dean shouted over Sam's voice. "Yeah, that's right, bring it on, baby! I taste good!"

Any other time, Julia would have laughed her ass off at Dean's nonsense. Now, though, she had work to do and innocent people to save—she was kind of like a superhero now, she guessed.

She held up her flare gun in front of her as she continued out of the mine, the Collins siblings right behind her. She checked to see if the coast was clear before urging them to hurry up out of the mine's entrance.

"All right, come on," she said quickly. "Hurry!"

"Hey! You want some white meat, bitch? I'm right here!" they heard Dean shout.

He's having way too much fun with this, she thought.

Just as the siblings started climbing out of the entrance they heard the wendigo growling a little too close for comfort.

"Get out of here," Julia urged them, coming to a quick decision.

"Julia, no!"

"Go, now!"

"Come on, Haley!" Ben begged his older sister, reaching for her and Tommy through the entrance.

Once Haley gave in and she and Tommy left the mine, Julia turned around to head back toward wendigo's growls. When she heard quick footsteps, she hid behind the way and held her flare gun up, ready to shoot at a moment's notice.

A low snarl from her left caught her attention; she slowly turned to look and screamed when she came face-to-face with the wendigo. She heard Dean and Sam calling her name as she shot the flare at the ugly bastard but it quickly ran off.

Julia didn't waste any time; she sped toward the entrance, hoping that the wendigo wasn't going after Haley, Ben, and Tommy.

"Julia?"

Julia jumped out of the entrance where the siblings were waiting and quickly slipped Tommy's free arm over her shoulder to help bare his weight. "Come on, go, go, go," she urged them. "Hurry, hurry."

There was another loud snarl and the four of them turned around in horror. Although still in the mine, the wendigo had spotted them. It looked absolutely furious in what little expression it had and it was definitely not going to mess around and keep them for the winter.

"Get behind me," Julia ducked from under Tommy's arm, Haley taking her place, and stepped in front of them.

She stared down the wendigo, fearful for her life. The wendigo snarled angrily as it got closer and closer to the entrance, out for blood. It was only a foot or so away from the broken planks when something caught its attention.

"Hey!" Sam and Dean called from behind it.

When the wendigo turned around, both of them shot their flare guns. Their shots rang true and the wendigo burst into flames. Its body burnt into a crisp as it slowly lowered to the ground, finally dead.

"Holy shit," Julia sighed in relief.

"Not bad, huh?" Dean called over to her with a smirk; Julia let out a breathless laugh as he walked over to her, surprisingly cupping her chin and lifting her head to look for any injuries on her face. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," she assured him with a tired smile. "How about you? Did it get some white meat off of ya?"

Dean chuckled. "Oh, it fucking wished, shortcake."

-

Hours later, they had buried the wendigo's corpse so no one could find it, used Tommy's satellite phone to call for medical assistance, and hiked back to the trail entrance. Paramedics, police officers, and park rangers were surrounding the area, offering their assistance immediately.

Tommy went straight into one of the ambulances while Haley and Dean were tended to at the other. Ben and Sam were questioned by a deputy—Sam there in support so Ben would give the officer the correct, but fake, details of what happened—and Julia was questioned by another.

Her questioning was over quickly since she was the only witness the deputy had to talk to, so she quickly took a bottle of water from a helpful park ranger and walked over to the Impala, leaning against the trunk.

She watched as Dean and Haley conversed, likely saying their goodbyes, and smiled when he sent the girl a flirty look and got a kiss on the cheek in return. Same old Dean. Sam and Ben joined them and they quickly said their gracious goodbyes. As the siblings walked toward the ambulance that was bussing their older brother to the hospital, they waved enthusiastically at Julia, who waved back happily.

She was so glad that they had each other and they were all safe. Honestly, she felt great. Despite the fear she had while facing the wendigo, she was pretty proud of herself. She helped save people and it felt damn good.

Sam and Dean walked over to the Impala, their hands in their pockets. Dean leaned against the trunk next to her, sighing heavily.

"Man, I hate camping."

"Me too," Sam agreed.

"Glamping is way better," Julia stated honestly.

Dean gave her a weird look. "What the fuck is glamping?"

"Glamorous camping," she ignored the weird looks the brothers gave her.

Sam's face quickly fell into sadness and Dean gave him a sympathetic look. "Sam, you know we're gonna find Dad, right?"

"Yeah, I know," Sam said sullenly before perking up. "But, in the meantime, I'm driving."

Dean wordlessly tossed him the keys.

"Ooh," Julia squeaked excitedly. "Shotgun."

"I don't think so."

"Fine," she shrugged, unbothered as Dean gently pushed her away from the passenger seat. "At least the driver gets to pick the music."

"Ah, hell, I'm regretting this already."

(Gif is not mine)

[banshees-and-valkyries]

S.O.S. : An ABBA Inspired Nightwing Fic

A/N: Hey guys! This is my first fic that I’m posting here to Tumblr. It’s not the first fic I've written but it is the first Nightwing/Dick Grayson fic I’ve done! I’ll also be posting to AO3 at some point so I will make an edit to this with the link at some point! Anyways, I super head canon that Dick is into ABBA and I’ve noticed others have the same HC as me so that is what inspired this. Enjoy!

I had met Dick in the most humorous way possible.  

I’m a bartender by day and a musician by night, as I like to say. I make decent money in tips and that helps me afford my little one-bedroom apartment and any possible equipment I might need for a show.  

It was Karaoke Night at the bar I had been working at. We usually had another bartender come in around eight or so at night, so in case I had a later gig to play, I could make it. This night, I didn’t have a show but still got off work at the same time. The other bartender kept eyeing me as she was cleaning some glasses. “You should go up there and sing,” Josie said, “You’re a musician, aren’t you? Have you ever thought of doing Karaoke here to help get your name out a little more?”

I actually had never thought of that, and I’m kind of surprised I didn’t. When I thought of playing shows, I was never intending part of it to be Karaoke at my work. Maybe it was pride that kept me from singing there before but, everyone’s got to start somewhere right?

I smiled and nodded my head at Josie, “Yeah, you know what? I’ll do it. I get off in about 10 minutes so I’ll just finish up and give Donald my name.” Donald was the man gracious enough to run Karaoke Night, gods know most of us didn’t want to have that gig. Between folks drunk off their asses and most women thinking they were the next Mariah Carey (plot twist, they weren’t), we rarely saw any actual talent up there. Maybe once or twice every few weeks but, this was just a schtick for the bar to make a little more money, and to the patrons, it was purely just for fun.

As I was finishing cleaning up my station, I noticed someone walk through the door and make their way over to me. He was about average height, maybe 5’10 or so, with a mop of chocolate brown hair and the most beautiful ocean blue eyes. He was a looker, that’s for sure. He sat down directly in front of me, with a smirk.

“I leave in a few minutes so I’ll make it quick. What’s your poison?”, I inquired, wiping the counter. He spoke in a deep velvety voice, “Jack and Coke.” His eyes never left me as I walked around the bar, making his drink for him. I placed it down in front of him. “Enjoy. My time is up but Josie here will take care of you.” I smiled at him and gathered my belongings, exiting the bar to get some fresh air before making my way back inside.

I set my target on Donald and made a bee line for the man. Donald was a man in his forties, divorced for about ten years with both of his kids grown up and living on their own. He was alone but he wasn’t lonely. He liked doing Karaoke Nights at the bar, it oddly brought him joy. I gave the man a hug, “Hey Donny,” I greeted. His face lit up when he saw me and gave me an equally tight squeeze. “Hey kiddo! No gig tonight?”

“Not scheduled no, but I was hoping I could sing tonight if you don’t mind” He smiled back excitedly, “Not at all! It’s about time we got some real talent, what’s been keeping you?” He chuckled and we talked for a few minutes. All the while, I could feel someone’s eyes on me. I looked around, attempting to catch who it was and ended up locking eyes with the man I served at the bar. He looked at me inquisitively with a slight smile. I returned the smile for a moment and turned my attention back to Donald.

“So what’s it gonna be little lady?” I looked over his shoulder at his laptop, eyeing the track selection. Nothing was catching my eye. I thought for a moment before asking him, “Do you have any ABBA?” “Boy, do I! I have all of the hits here.” He pulled up the selection and my eyes gazed over the songs until I found the one I wanted. I pointed to the screen, “That one!”

Donald looked back at me, “That’s a duet typically, are you sure?” Just before I could answer, I felt someone walk up behind me and speak in a familiar voice, “I could be the second voice if you’d like?” I turned around to catch a glance at the mystery man and it was the same one from the bar. “I’m Dick, by the way. I’m not trying to be weird or anything, I just - I thought you were really beautiful and when I saw you came back in, I had to talk to you before I lost my chance.” He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling awkward I could presume.  

I was flattered, actually, and impressed in a weird way. Most of the guys who came in and took interest in me were total sleazes and would hit on me any chance they got. But him, Dick, he seemed sweet. I smiled back at him and held out my hand for him to shake. “I’m flattered, but most people call me Faye.” He shook my hand and laughed at the joke I made. “Are you okay with ABBA?”  

I swear that man got a sugar rush the second I mentioned ABBA. “Of course, they’re only the best Supergroup to ever exist.” He rambled on for a few seconds and it was totally adorable to see him geek out like that.  

We waited about fifteen minutes for all of the other patrons who had already signed up to take their turn. As expected, we got a bunch of drunk men trying to sing Journey hits and women attempting to sing Whitney Houston. Finally, there was one person singing and we were set to go next.  

I turned back to Dick, we had been making small talk as we waited for our turn to come up. “You do know the words to S.O.S? Right?” “No I just thought I’d make an ass out of myself in front of this insanely gorgeous woman I like,” he deadpanned. He broke out into a smirk and a fit of laughter soon after. I started blushing but quickly tried to cover it up, “Okay Romeo, just sing when you’re supposed to.” I let out with a chuckle.

This was so new and foreign to me. This beautiful, handsome, breathtaking man was flirting with me and he wasn’t a creep like all the others. I wasn’t accustomed to talking to someone like this. I tend to keep to myself, never looking for a relationship because, quite frankly, none of these “men” nowadays, ever met my standards. Always too immature, or had a crude “sense of humor” or they were just assholes.

Donald turned to look at us then motioned for us to go up there and I felt a rush of nerves and adrenaline hit me. I was always nervous before I sang but it was a good nervous, an excited nervous. Dick and I walked towards the makeshift “stage” as Donny spoke out to the bar, “Alright, alright. In a minute, we got Faye and Dick singing S.O.S by ABBA!” We both grabbed a mic and smiled at each other as we stepped forward, preparing ourselves for our performance.

I heard the music kick in and looked at Dick, not really sure what to expect from his singing but as I heard his voice, I was speechless. I thought his speaking voice was alluring but his singing voice was even better.  

“Where are those happy days, they seem so hard to find,” he sang, looking directly at me with a slight smirk. “I tried to reach for you but you have closed your mind.” This man began sauntering towards me and making a legitimate performance out of it. I’ve never been so blown away before.

He continued to sing the rest of his lines and then it came time for my part. I walked towards him and grabbed his hand as I sang, “You seem so far away, though you are standing near.” His resolve dissipated for a moment. I was unsure if it was my voice or my action that took him by surprise but the smile returned to his face as I continued my serenade.  

We were so in synch with our mini show. I was a musician so I was used to performing already. Whereas him, I had no clue where this came from but I loved it! We had so much chemistry, like we had been together like this a thousand times.

We finished out and heard a roar from the crowd. Applause, shouting, whistles, you name it. It was such an amazingly unexpected experience. Dick and I crossed the floor to hand the microphones back to Donald. “I gotta say, kid,” he began, “You blew me away. You both did actually. You two look like you were meant to be up there together.”

I smiled and blushed at the compliment as Dick turned towards me. “You were,” he paused with the biggest grin on his face, “Showstopping. I- I'm speechless, I have no words!” Now I was grinning ear to ear as a deep crimson swept across my face, “You weren’t too bad yourself there. Say, where did that come from? You’re a natural!” He went on to explain that he came from a family of acrobats and would all perform together at something called Haly’s Circus.  

“Can I get you a drink? On me? This is an occasion to celebrate, of course!” He chuckled and I accepted. I have never had this kind of chemistry with anyone before, it was almost intoxicating. He held his hand out for me and I grasped it as he led us back over to the bar. Dick ordered another Jack and Coke and I ordered a Vodka Cranberry. We sipped on our drinks as we chatted and began learning more about each other.  

So far, I had learned that he was twenty-three years old, had his own apartment and vehicles (yes, PLURAL) and had two previous short-lived relationships and was currently single. You know, all the important stuff. Amidst the conversation, he continued to flirt in cute, cheesy ways. He also managed to throw in some clever and well-placed puns. This man was speaking my language and I was thoroughly enraptured by him. I honestly did not want this night to end.

Just then, we heard a voice carry over the bar, “Final call for any last-minute Karaoke Kooks. We’ll be packing up in a few so make your way down!” My ears perked up at the sound as my mind sprang with an idea. I turned to Dick but it seems he beat me to it. “Do you maybe want to go up there again? I had so much fun with you!” He was beaming with glee. I quickly nodded and we left our seats to reunite with Don.

“Back again I see! Well, you guys are probably the last ones so make it memorable,” Don winked as he finished and we looked over the song selection. “You can choose this time, since I decided the first song.” Dick nodded and scanned the screen before locking his sights on a track and deciding. “I want that one,” he spoke with such conviction and I looked over his shoulder to eye his choice. “’Gimme Gimme’ huh? Bold choice.” I smiled at him as we prepared ourselves for our second performance but I certainly hoped this was not our last.

Once again, the music started up and I had decided to introduce the song this time around. “Half past twelve, watchin’ the late show, in my flat all alone. How I hate to spend the evening on my own.” I was giving this performance everything I had in me, and it helped that I felt like Dick just brought that energy out of me. It was as though I didn’t have to try.  

We continued our “dialogue” back and forth as the song progressed. We belted out the lyrics with such fervor and enthusiasm, feeding off of each other’s energy. “Gimme, Gimme, Gimme, a man after midnight. Won’t somebody help me chase the shadows away!” We were grinning ear to ear, looking like a couple of dopes but we had so much fun together. The song finished out and we threw our arms around each other, laughing to no end. We held each other like that for a few moments until Don interrupted.

“You guys did it again. I don’t know what it is, call it fate, call it whatever you want, but you guys were definitely meant to be together.” Don grinned at us and I felt that familiar crimson shade spread across my face as I turned to Dick. He was already smiling.

“Well, I’m not one to argue with fate. Are you?” I merely shook my head and grinned at him. “Soooo,” he drew out, “Does that mean I might walk away with your number?” I chuckled at his comment and we swapped phones so we could exchange contact information. “I should get going,” I spoke up after a few moments, “I had so much fun though, seriously! This is probably the best night I’ve had in a while.” He seemed to light up after my compliment and offered to walk me to my car.  

“Actually, I walk. My apartment is just a few blocks from here. I can handle it.” He looked skeptical, “Nonsense, I can just drive you. You shouldn’t be walking home alone this late at night. Hop in.” He smiled at me and led me to his, very nice, I might add, Porsche parked out front. He opened the door for me and I situated myself before we took off.

I directed him down the streets until we were parked right out front of my home. He turned the car off and came around my side, opening the door for me again. He went so far as to walk me up the stairs until I was right outside my door, “for safety reasons, of course”. He was such a gentleman.

“I had a lot of fun tonight,” he spoke up leaning against the wall of the building. “So did I. Thank you again for driving me home, you really didn’t have to.” I smiled softly at him and he returned it. He leaned forward off of the building and took a step forward so he was standing right in front of me.

In this close proximity, I caught a whiff of spearmint and pine emanating off of him. He outstretched his arms and brought me in for a hug, holding it there for a few moments before pulling away slightly to look down at me.

I swore I saw his gaze flicker between my eyes and my lips a couple times and I smiled in response. He leaned in closer to me, head dipping down slightly. “Let me know if you want me to stop,” he spoke, voice just barely above a whisper. I licked my lips, “Don’t.”

That was all the invitation he needed. His lips met mine in a soft embrace and I felt electricity run through my body like nothing ever before. It was soft and sweet and I loved it. We pulled away soon after and I caught him cheesing like an idiot. “Don’t be a stranger, okay?” he told me.

“I won’t be if you won’t.” He grabbed my hand and gave it a squeeze before walking back to his car. He made sure not to drive off until he saw me enter my apartment. I definitely didn’t expect my night to go like this but I sure was happy about it nonetheless. I sighed contentedly and leaned my back against the door. I touched my lips and they still tingled from the experience. I went to bed that night with the events of the day replaying in my mind until I fell into a peaceful slumber.