#this is me trying to be festive enough to finally put up my tree
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Maestro if you please? A little festive mood music (in no particular order)
summer wonderland- Roman Keating
white wine in the sun- Tim Minchin
how to make gravy- Paul Kelly
fairytale of New York- The Pogues & Kirsty MacColl
happy xmas (war is over)- John Lennon and Yoko Ono
all I want for Christmas is you- Mariah Carey
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Little blurb about the anxiety of being Eddie’s Secret Santa
Your hands were shaking from how nervous you were.
You clutched the wrapped box tightly in your hands, seconding guessing the wrapping paper you had bought instead of a noncommittal gift bag.
Did the perfectly tied red ribbon and bow make it seem like you were trying too hard?
Your friends were getting together for a little Christmas Eve celebration before going your separate ways to spend time with your respective families for Christmas Day.
This year they thought it would add to the festive joy by having a round of secret Santa.
Your heart dropped when you pulled Eddie’s name from the bowl. Not because you didn’t like him, no, but because he would be hard to shop for when you feel your brain turning into a big pile of mush when you thought about him and your insides erupted into butterflies whenever he was near.
You weren’t sure when your feelings for Eddie crossed from just friends to crush territory. Maybe it happened when he always sat next to you on movie nights or maybe it was when he insisted on driving you home instead of letting you walk home in the dark like you had planned.
Or maybe it was when he turned and winked at you when every one else was arguing during game night.
Every one else had put their presents under tree, excited chattering lighting up the house as everyone tried to guess who had gotten them their present.
“What are you doing out here?”
You turned, embarrassed to be found in your hiding spot right outside Steve’s kitchen, in the hallway before the living room.
Eddie stood before you, hands placed in his pockets as he smiled down at you.
The package in your hand felt heavier and instead of answering him you just thrusted the box into his hands like it was burning you.
It took him a second to register what you had handed him, and a wide smile spread across his face followed by a relieved chuckle.
“You know, I was getting worried when I didn’t see my present under the tree. I thought maybe my secret Santa gave up on me,” he said lightheartedly.
“Merry Christmas, Eddie,” you breathed out, happy to get the words out of you and into the world, like they were clawing, begging to escape.
“Merry Christmas,” he smiled back, hands playing with the edge of the wrapping paper.
You gestured for him to go ahead and open it, ready to rip off the bandage and get it over with.
He gently unfurled the bow with tenderness you had never seen from him before. He found the seam of the paper, unwrapping slow enough to almost torture you.
When he finally opened the box, he grinned and pulled out the crocheted gloves that you had been working like a madman to make for him. They were dark blue, made with the softest yarn you could find at the craft store.
You felt a little dumb now that he held the gloves in his hands. You had thought making him gloves was a great idea originally, since you noticed the way his hands were always cold and he was always trying to warm them up.
“If you don’t like them maybe I can-“
“You made these?” He interrupted you, voice full of awe.
You nodded, fumbling with your hands and shaking from anxiety.
“I’ve never had someone make something for me before. This is the best present ever,” he said as he slipped the gloves over his hands, commenting on how soft they were.
You sighed, shoulders relaxing from his reaction.
He grabbed your hand with one of his warmth covered hands and squeezed.
“Thank you.”
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson au#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson x you#eddie stranger things#eddie munson series#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson blurb#eddie munson fluff
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your latest mike fic actually has me squealing stop. can you please write something cute about him for the festive season? i don’t mind how long it is, i just wanna cuddle into his itchy christmas sweater and eat gingerbread and drink hot chocolate and watch love actually (despite him insisting he’ll hate it)
mr. grinch | mike schmidt x reader
word count: 904
warnings: none! this is just some nice little christmas fluff for the holidays! thanksgivingdoesnotexisttomeok
all of you are keeping me so well fed, any time i see a mike request, i have to take a second to get excited
he is probably such a grinch, he is so dear to me
I LOOOVE writing christmas stuff, i hope that this did the holiday justice
mike sighs tiredly when he finally enters his house, about to announce his arrival before stopping in his tracks. he closes the door behind him as he knocks some of the snow off of his shoes, eyeing the rest of the house with an almost comedic sort of suspicion: he swore the house hadn't been this festive when he left.
his once dull looking living room was littered with boxes, ropes of garland and tinsel peeking out of some them. the most noticeable thing, however, is the obvious christmas tree in the corner of the room that remains undecorated. the kitchen seems to be the most decorated for now, a quaint centerpiece in the middle of the table and some christmas lights hanging on one end of the room. mike looks up when he hears footsteps from down the hall, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise at the sweaters he sees on you and abby who is following behind you. your sweater is decorated with all kinds of red, white, and green patterns, a cat poking its head out of a stocking on the front of it. abby's sweater is less in your face, a deep blue with various colored christmas lights decorated onto it.
"you're back! how was work?" you say with a sweet smile, putting down the box in your arms to pull mike into an embrace that he gladly accepts. "same as always, boring. did you do..?" mike says with a smile, raising an eyebrow as he gestures to the rest of the house.
"WE decorated the house."
"oh, yeah?" mike says with another smile, letting abby take his hand and lead him over to the living room. "we wanted to do the christmas tree with you. i'm gonna put my ornament from school, you put on your sweater." abby says, not missing a beat as she hands mike a sweater hanging off the couch and running back to her room. you give mike a knowing smile as you lean against the couch, watching him unfold the sweater: the colors are the same as yours but have a cartoonishly decorated christmas tree on it. almost immediately, he lets out a laugh of disbelief.
"no way."
"oh my god, where's your christmas spirit?" you giggle as mike shakes his head, already trying to abandon the sweater that you're trying to put back in his hands. "you and abby have enough christmas for the three of us, thank you very much." he says as you hold the sweater up against him, scrunching your nose at him playfully. the two of you have a moment of silence, looking at each other expectantly to see who will break first: you, of course, have no shame at all. "pleeease? for abby? and totally not for my own enjoyment?" you say as you bat your eyelashes at mike, folding the jacket over your arm so that you can cup his face in your hands. his eyes remain focused on yours and seemingly uninterested despite the smile tugging at his lips, your hands squeezing and pinching his cheeks in an effort to further crumble his resolve.
"for me?"
mike looks over at abby standing in the hallway with a sheepish smile, giving her a look that says 'really?'. when the two of you nod at him with fake-innocent looks, he lets out a sigh before giving a defeated yet amused "fine."
and with that defeat, mike is wrapped up in christmas festivities for the rest of the night. abby insists on everything there is despite how little time it takes for her to get tired; it's only 10:00 pm by the time you and mike are sitting on the couch, your legs hung over his lap and his hand rubbing slow circles into your back. quiet christmas music plays in the background, your cheek rested against his shoulder as you bring your mug of hot chocolate to your lips. "tree turn out alright for you?" mike mumbles softly as he looks over at the now decorated tree, making you smile warmly as you nod. "yeah. it's perfect. abby's ornament really ties the whole thing together." you say with a soft laugh, looking over at the small angel that was nearly in the center of the tree.
"thank you, by the way. for all this, i mean. we don't do this all the time."
you smile up at mike when he looks at you, his hand moving from your back to your hair, brushing it away from your face as your cheeks redden.
you press your forehead against his, feeling your heart start to soar in your chest: before you can get closer, you gasp softly as a thought comes to your mind.
"wait!"
mike watches you scramble away to the kitchen for a moment before you come back with something cupped in your hand: as soon as he sees the mistletoe, mike can't help the laugh that leaves him. "hey, don't laugh! not only are you going to wake up abby but you're also not embracing the spirit of christmas." you say with a fake tone of pride, making mike roll his eyes.
"so you're saying that christmas is-"
before mike can even finish his thought, you close the gap between the two of you with a giggle against his lips, knocking the two of you backwards on the couch as a grunt of surprise leaves mike.
I WAS SOOOO GIGGLY WRITING ALL THIS, thank you anon for requesting this right after laufy dropped several christmas songs
I HOPE THAT TO ANON, THAT YOU ENJOYED THIS AND THAT IT MADE YOU GIGGLE AS MUCH AS THE LAST ONE I WROTE
i hope to everyone reading this that you all also enjoyed this and are having a good rest of your day/night/afternoon! :3
#mike schmidt#mike schmidt fanfic#mike schmidt x reader#mike schmidt x you#fnaf#oneshot#x reader#fnaf movie#five nights at freddy's#josh hutcherson#michael schmidt x reader#fnaf x reader#fnaf x you
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┊'𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐢'𝐥𝐥 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞'
neteyam te suli tsyeyk’itan ; avatar: the way of water
pairing: neteyam x omaticaya!gn!reader
warnings: light fluff, budding romance, a lot of commas (not even a warning but it’s bugging me how I used so many)
request: n/a
summary: inspired by ‘yes to heaven’ - lana del rey
a/n: I heard this song and immediately wanted to do a fic with it, but then I saw the footage of the deleted dance scene from avatar 1 (lmk if you want a link or something) and knew it had to be done,, takes place some time before the sullys leave the forest
character credit: avatar movie series
w/c: 1.7k
part 2: ‘and if you don’t, i’ll dance anyway’
As you approach the Omaticaya’s kelutral, you cannot help but immediately smile in the festive ambiance.
The clan is currently hosting a celebration for the success of one of the war parties. Ey’tey jahmka hiru’tayas – tree drums made of holes within the Hometree – are being struck in various different locations; the vibrations of the melodies sending happy tingles throughout your body.
Around you, your people are in various states of enjoyment. Warriors are reunited with their families, thanking Eywa for letting them live to see their loved ones again. Many have dressed in their best garments, littering their hair with beads and their bodies with jewelry.
This was a time to not only appreciate the survivors, but to give final thanks to your sisters and brother who have returned back to All-Mother after their great fight.
You tried to put a little extra effort in your appearance this morning, adorning your braids with a few colorful wooden beads and your loincloth with a few accented pieces.
Walking through the Hometree, you grin at recognized faces, making sure to welcome the returned and give gentle smiles to those experiencing loss. As you weave through the crowds, you catch sight of the eldest son of Toruk Makto, sitting around one of the many fires with his family.
You would like to say Neteyam is one of your best friends.
Ever since you were young and his siblings had found you exploring the forest, you’ve joined them on their many wanderings and activities. The only thing is, Neteyam is always too busy that he never actually gets to join and enjoy himself. He’s always off training with his dad or out on a hunt; he never allows himself to relax and actually be a child.
You hate it.
There have been many nights where you have caught Neteyam returning from training, long after his father has returned; forcing himself to perfect his stances and study his problem areas – not that he has many.
He has engulfed his life in expectations: following them, achieving them, perfecting them, then exceeding them. The pressure he has had since a young boy due to his status as the next olo’eyktan has taken over his childhood, and he no longer allows himself to simply exist.
Due to this, you try to help Neteyam loosen up whenever you get the chance, and right now was the perfect opportunity.
You stroll over to the area where he and his family reside. He’s currently conversing with Lo’ak, though he does not seem to be enjoying himself. His toothy smile – which you have bare witness to on several occasions – is not in appearance and a small, almost sad looking grin has taken its place.
“Hi, Y/N!” Tuk rushes out of her mom’s arms and darts in your direction, holding her own arms out when she nears.
“”Hey, Tuk,” you playfully scrunch your nose as you pick up her small frame. You twirl her around whilst lifting her high above your head before placing her on your hip. “How is my favorite Sully sibling doing today?” You tickle her stomach lightly while speaking loud enough for the rest of the family to hear.
“Nah that’s just cold,” Lo’ak puts his hand over his heart and shakes his head in a hurt manner, “all the years we’ve been together and this cry baby comes along and suddenly I mean nothing to you.”
Tuk sticks her tongue out from the place on your side, making a small hum before placing her arms around your neck and resting her head on your shoulder.
“What can I say Lo’ak?” You lightly shrug your shoulders before sitting in the empty space next to Neteyam and placing Tuk on your lap.. “You’ve been slacking in the favorites department and a demotion was long overdue.”
You nudge the elder brother’s shoulder and inquire in a light tone, “and how is the family’s best tsamsiyu doing today?”
It almost seems as though his mood has already lightened from the way his smile brightens.
“I am good Y/N. Thank you for asking.”
You carry light conversation with the Sully kids, complimenting Neytiri on her beautiful jewelry and greeting Jake when he stops by after mingling with his people. In this time, Neteyam only makes light jokes and adds very little to the conversation, even as Lo’ak repeatedly pushes his buttons in hopes of him pushing back.
You softly sigh, stopping the moves you’re currently doing with Tuk: you swinging and twirling her in correspondence to the music from your position on the log. You turn Tuk around and point towards a few kids who are dancing together and watch her run off to join them.
As you turn to ask Neteyam what is wrong, the drummers start to play one of your favorite songs and you cannot help but smile. You quickly hop up and wave the kids to come join you. Lo’ak gets up immediately, happy to move around and do basically anything. Kiri, though reluctant, slowly rises and you take her hands, quickly spinning her in a circle before you both move to the beat.
You close your eyes and let the music consume you: swaying to the rhythm, gliding on your feet, moving your arms in accordance. Music was always one of the main ways you felt your connection to Great Mother deepen. Whether it be remembering the verses that accompany your clan’s various songcords, learning the ways of the drums, or joining in on any events that had dances involved; music always moved through you in a spiritual manner.
The song shifts, changing into a partner dance that every Na’vi is taught from a young age.
Immediately, you open your eyes and meet Neteyam’s gaze.
You tilt your head in a “come here” gesture, but he scrunches his nose and shakes his head, his braids jostling due to the movement. You giddily walk over to him, a slight skip in your step, and grab his hands, attempting to pull him up from his sitting position and towards the dance circle.
“Y/N, I am not much of a dancer.”
“You must dance,” you say as you manage to pull him up, “it is the way.”
As you drag him away, you glance back and see Neytiri smiling at you and her son. You bow your head back at her before proceeding into your necessary positions.
“Y/N, I really do not know what I am doing.”
The boy almost seems…nervous? Whether it was because of his so-called “lacking” dance skills or simply because he was dancing with you, you did not know.
“You learned dance when you were younger, yes?” You rock on your heels and bounce on the balls of your feet once he nods, “then you are fine, ma Neteyam.”
As the music starts to pick up, you hold your forearms vertical in front of your face, your palms facing you. Although he is opposed at first, Neteyam slowly does the same, and you can’t fight the giant smile that appears on your face.
You slowly start to twinkle your fingers as your arms raise above your head. When your hand brushes against his, you can’t help but blush. You look him directly in the eyes to make sure he is doing okay.
You find he is doing more than that.
His smile seems to be growing by the second. His shoulders lose their tension, his eyes fluttering like he is finally letting go of his mind and taking in his environment.
Once your arms straighten above your head, your turn your hands over and slowly bring them back down with the same twinkling fingers. As your tips gently tap against his, you can’t help the way your heartbeat picks up.
You’ve never felt this close to Neteyam before.
Whenever the two of you spent time together previously, it was always in light of his siblings: you joining him and Lo’ak on an ikran ride, you aiding Kiri when she patched him up after injury, you babysitting Tuk when Jake and Neytiri went out hunting while the others were busy. It’s come to your realization that the “moments” you’ve had with Neteyam were never really yours.
Now, even though you guys were not technically alone, felt different than the other times. This was between you guys; you and him alone.
Even though your mind was pacing a million thoughts a minute, you noticed that your partner had stopped the gentle taps against your fingers.
This sent your brain into overdrive.
‘Why am I thinking like this?’
‘Has he ever thought like this?’
‘Oh Eywa, did I really just force him to dance with me?’
‘He was so reluctant at first. Is he only giving in because I wanted to dance?
‘Have I made him uncomfortable?’
“Y/N…?”
You startle a bit at the sudden voice so close to you and start to pull your hands away.
“I am so sorry, Neteyam. I did not mean to force you to dance with me. You just seemed so out of it today, more than usual at least, and I wanted to help you relax a bit. Wait, not that I notice when you are out of it. I mean it is kind of obvious that you would be – you are the son of the olo’eyktan after all. Wait, I am supposed to be helping you forget that right now…”
Neteyam grabs your hands back and gently intertwines his fingers with yours. Your eyes pop back up to his face. The confusion must be present on your face because he actually chuckles when you meet his eyes.
“Thank you, Y/N. Truly I…I needed this.”
You cannot stop the warmth that spreads across your skin at his soft words.
“Oh…It is no problem.” Your eyes pop down to your locked hands and you softly grin before looking back at him.
What happens next actually surprises you.
Neteyam pushes you back a bit before twirling you around and continuing the dance. It catches you off guard at first, but you quickly recover and nudge his shoulder once you’re reeled back back in.
“What has happened to not being able to dance, hm?”
“A big part of dancing is who your partner is,” he says with the slight tilt of his head and a shrug, “if you dance Y/N, I’ll dance.”
Okay I wasn’t sure if I wanted to make this a oneshot or divide it, but I haven’t posted in so long and this was already a decent size by itself so yeah
Also, I’ve organized all the requests and stuff I’ve been sent for various shows/movies/books, so I’ll get to everything when I can !!
#avatar#Avatar: The Way of Water#Avatar 2#avatar: twow#avatar way of water#neteyam#neteyam fluff#neteyam x reader#neteyam sully#neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan#neteyam x y/n#neteyam x you#avatar twow#avatar the way of water#fanfic#fanfiction#oneshot#drabble#imagine#neteyam fanfiction#escapism#atpsnty
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christmas mornings - jack hughes
prompt: jack proposing to you under the christmas tree
requested by: @bordeleau : )
notes: this was really cute, i'm super happy about how this turned out! thanks for requesting <3
tags: @woodruff-edwards <3 join my taglist!
gif not mine!
on christmas morning, you woke up to kisses. you scrunched your nose up, making a noise to try and push jack away. he ignored you, peppering kisses over your face.
“i’m up, i’m up,” you muttered, finally opening your eyes.
jack grinned at you, finally awake. you tried to narrow your eyes at him, but it was hard to stay mad when he smiled like that.
“hi,” he couldn’t seem to stop smiling. “let’s go open our presents!”
you laughed as he carried you out of bed, bridal style, towards the living room.
“wait, wait! i need to brush my teeth!” you protested. “put me down! jack!”
“do you really have to do that now?” he groaned. “can’t it wait?”
“no,” you rolled your eyes. “put me down now.”
“fine,” he groaned, setting you down.
you laughed to yourself as you made your way to the washroom to brush your teeth. the two of you were spending christmas in new jersey, since the devils schedule was too stacked for you to make the trip to michigan.
since it was just the two of you this year, you decided to keep it smaller than usual. with a mini christmas tree and some festive lights, you guys decided it was enough. you’d much rather spend the day with him than fuss about the decorations.
after brushing your teeth, you made your way to the living room still in your pajamas. jack was sitting expectantly under the christmas tree like you’d expected.
you grinned, giving him a quick kiss.
“you sure you don’t want to eat breakfast first?” you asked. “we’ve got waffles.”
“i’m not that hungry, you?” he asked.
you shook your head. “there’s not a lot of presents anyways. might as well open the few we’ve got.”
“okay, but open mine first!” jack said, rummaging through the few boxes, pulling out a small one.
you laughed at his enthusiasm, taking the box from him. it was rectangular-shaped, most likely carrying some picture of you two in a case of some sort. jack knew you cared about the sentiment more than the price, and this was how he managed to make both of you happy.
“wait!” he shouted suddenly, remembering something as soon as you were about to open the present.
“yes?” you asked, raising a brow.
“you need to be standing like… this!” he said, helping you up and adjusting you to make you face the kitchen.
“is there a reason i’m standing facing the kitchen?” you asked as jack went to stand behind you.
“uh… yeah, yeah. you need to face the kitchen for this to work,” you could practically hear him nodding as his head from where he stood behind you.
you weren’t sure if that was true or a convenient excuse, but you shrugged to yourself. “can i open it now?”
“um… yes, now you can open it!” he said.
you still couldn’t see him, so you had to trust that whatever he had planned was working out how he wanted it to.
“okay…” you smiled, unwrapping the present.
you froze at the velvet box that lay underneath. it was a blue so dark it almost looked black - your favourite colour. your heart sped up at the thought of what lay inside it.
“you can open the box,” jack said from behind you, his voice soft.
too stunned to do anything else, you nodded dumbly, opening the box. in place of a ring was a small note. you took it out and unfolded it, recognizing jack’s handwriting. normally scribbly and illegible, he’d made an effort for this. even drawing a little heart.
turn around <3
you turned, your hands flying to your mouth in surprise, even though you knew jack was going to be on one knee. he held a ring in his hands, smiling up at you and looking much more nervous than this morning.
“yes,” you said, even though he hadn’t asked anything yet.
jack laughed a bit, “no, wait. i’ve got a speech. but it’s nice to know your answer from before.”
you laughed, crying even though this was the happiest you’d ever been in your life.
“y/n, you’ve been my girlfriend for three years,” he began, tearing up slightly. you didn’t blame him, considering you were trying to hide your own sobs. “but you’ve also been more than that: my best friend, the person who makes me laugh, the person who orders takeout in advance when i cook, the person who’s been there for me even when i didn’t know i needed it. y/n, i’ve loved you for a long time, and i can’t imagine my life without you. i don’t want to. so, y/f/n y/l/n, will you marry me?”
you laughed through the tears, nodding your head. “yes.”
he slipped the ring on your finger, catching you as you fell to your knees, the two of you on the floor in front of your christmas tree.
“i don’t think you can ever top this christmas present.”
#jack hughes imagines#jack hughes#jack hughes fic#jack hughes imagine#jack hughes blurb#jack hughes oneshot#jack hughes one shot#jack hughes blurbs#jack hughes oneshots#new jersey devils blurb#new jersey devils imagine#new jersey devils fic#new jersey devils one shot#new jersey devils#hockey imagine#hockey#hockey fic#hockey x reader#jack hughes x reader#nhl one shot#nhl fic#nhl imagine#nhl#nhl blurb#naqia writes!#fluff
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Cringefail Throuple 💡
Decorating Billy’s flat for Christmas is a nightmare because Michael comes prepared with a ruler and a laser level and takes on the role of supervisor. Everything has to be perfect! He even measures the spacing of ornaments on the tree!
Eventually, either reader or Billy start distracting him by blowing him just so the other can actually get the decorations up, and he can fix them later… if he still remembers afterwards.
I have to say, there's more angst at the start than what I originally planned. Fear not, there's enough filth to make up for it!
Warnings: angst, Billy panics a little, quick mention to the car bomb, self-image issues, kissing, oral (male receiving), handjob, ass play, anal (male receiving), hints at cunnilingus.
NSFW and 18+ under the cut!
When Billy comes back home, he can hear the Christmas music through the cheap door of his flat. For a moment he panics, then remembers than now, both you and Michael have a set of keys and you've texted him that you two will be waiting for him. Billy takes a big breath, he's still getting used to have people over to his own place, panicking a bit and he has to tell himself that's you two, who love him and care about him, who will never put bombs in his flat, or his car, if he still owned one.
When he opens the door is greeted by the sight of you, perched on a stack of books, on a chair, intent on putting Christmas decorations on the walls. You're wearing a black jumper, decorated with festive skulls and knee high socks.
"Hello love." He says, over Dolly Parton's singing.
"Billy!!!" You turn around, almost losing your footing and Billy has to run to you, his hands around your hips to help you keep your balance.
"That's dangerous! Where's Michael?"
It blows his mind that someone as smart as you are, can be so incapable of taking care of themself.
"I've send him on a errand. He was driving me absolutely crazy! He kept moving what I had already set."
Billy looks around his small living room/kitchen area. You've already decorated the small tree near the telly and put Christmas trinkets on all the flat surfaces you can find. There's window decorations as well and now you're nailing fake holly garlands on the walls.
"You don't have to work so hard, you know that?"
Billy blushes as he speaks. Both you and Michael have worked so hard during the finals, he's seen how tired you were, almost burned out, and now, instead of lounging on the sofa, stuffing your face full of chocolate while watching stupid Christmas movies, are decorating his crappy flat.
"Billy." You cup his handsome face in your hands. "You're going to be alone for Christmas, and that breaks my heart, at least you'll be feeling our presences with you."
Billy can feel tears welling up in his eyes, he doesn't deserve you two.
"I don't mind not traveling back to London. I can do without having to deal with all my family for this year. Besides, the pub is going to be opened, I will be swamped with work."
You can hear the tremble in his voice, your heart aching with the knowledge that his family doesn't feel like a safe harbor for him, even though you know both his parents and older sister love him.
"Oh Billy..."
You curl your arms around his neck, your legs finding home around his slim hips, his hands under your arse to sustain your weight, your face against the side of his neck, tears already falling from your eyes.
"Love, don't." He says, voice broken by his own tears.
He manages to sit you on the kitchen table, before hugging you impossibly tight, letting you cry as he tries to not bawl himself, failing.
When he feels your arms loosened, he gently cups your face and clumsily tries to dry the mess of tears and make up on your cheeks.
"I must look like a panda." You try to joke as you use the arm of the jumper to dry your nose.
"A very cute panda." He kisses your forehead. "Let's go."
His hands go under your arse again, lifting you up as if you weight nothing, before he heads to his small bathroom and positions you on the small cabinet next to the sink. He remains between your splayed legs, his hands grabbing your make up remover and cotton pads to reveal your naked face.
You don't like you skin, too many blemishes and imperfections for you to feel comfortable to walk around without, at least, some foundation. Billy loves all of them, all these little marks that draw the picture of you truly are, he's spent hours just kissing all of them, before making gentle love to you.
After he's washed your face, he kisses the tip of your nose, his teeth nibbling the tip until you laugh.
"Let's finish before Michael comes home." You tell him. "He's going to be a pain anyway."
"What did he do?" He's genuinely curious about the drama.
"Ugh! He's just so... gah!"
"A perfectionist?"
"Lucky that I am in love with him!"
The jingle of Michael's keys is drowned by Bing Crosby singing "Santa Claus Is Comin' to Town", he's not surprised you're repeating the 'You better watch out' line with increasing dread, to Billy's absolute glee.
"We need a bigger garland and the Gävle goat is too close to the Santa and..."
He can't finish the sentence, Billy's hand goes to his waist and he uses Michael's momentum to turn him with his back against the wall, crowding him there.
"Hi genius boy." Billy's body is flushed against Michael's, one hand pushing Michael's glasses over his head, the other bent against the wall, caging the other man there.
"Hi Billy." Michael can feel his cock swell at Billy's blatant display of strength; it shouldn't turn him on the way it does, but he's discovered things about himself since he's fallen for Billy, things he's appreciating as the days pass.
The kiss makes Michael's knees tremble, his hands go to Billy's arms to keep himself steady, his mouth already slack, tongue playing with Billy's, filthy moans escaping from their interlocked lips. When Billy grounds his semi-hard cock against Michael's, the Oxford's math genius knows he's done for.
"You coming?" Billy asks, lips worrying the side of Michael's neck left free by his hideous Christmas jumper.
"Let me finish here and I'm all yours." As turned on as you are by your lovers's antics, you need to finish, without Michael in your way.
Billy is strong, stronger than Michael is, but he can't throw him over his shoulder, he can only kiss him with ferocity, as he backs him to the bedroom, hands under the jumper, nails raking down his fair skin.
Michael grabs Billy's loose joggers, the two of them almost falling as they slide down Billy's long legs, followed by his boxers, to reveal his, now, fully hard cock, Michael's hand already jacking him with fast motions that make Billy's head spin.
They leave a trail of clothes in their hunger for one another, Michael falls on the bed, legs spread and already on Billy's large shoulders, Billy's tongue licking a fat stripe on Michael's engorged cock, the tip of his tongue licking the cock head like he would a ice cream, his hands on Michael's hips to keep him still, his body deaf to the pain of Michael's heels digging in his back when he deep throats his cock, his muscles tight around the engorged member, Michael's back bowing, hands in Billy's hair, scratching his scalp, pulling at his locks, mewls and whimpers spilling from his parted lips.
Michael wails when Billy's mouth leaves his cock, he was almost ready to come!!!
"Do you want to turn around or lie on your back?"
Michael eyesight is not good enough to see Billy in the dark, without his glasses, but he can imagine the hunger on his lover's face, the slightly reddened skin around his mouth.
"On my back." He manages to say, scrambling back to lie in the middle of the bed.
"Great choice." Billy's voice is dark with desire, his pupils enlarged.
He stalks towards Michael, whose legs are already spread, hips pumping against nothing. Thankfully the lube is under the pillow and Billy can pour a liberal amount on Michael's hole, fingers following immediately to prepare him, body pressed on Michael's, lips devouring one another's as his fingers scissor and fuck against Michael's prostate, until he keens, hand curling around his cock to stop himself from coming too soon.
Both men whimper and moan when Billy's cock breaches Michael, slow and deep pushes to open his tight hole, until Billy can feel his lover's muscles giving up, accepting his invasion. It's only in that moment that Billy pulls Michael's legs over his shoulders, folding his long body to start rutting inside of him hard and fast, whimpers and screams music to his ears, spurring him on to fuck Michael even faster, aiming mercilessly for his prostate, reveling in the way Michael's muscles curl around his cock and he has to pump harder, hand around Michael's straining cock, him babbling, his orgasm cresting and cresting, Billy's whimpers spurring him on, until Michael's body bows, ropes and ropes of cum spurting from his cock, Billy following him with a long whimper, hips fucking him sloppily, until he falls next to him, breathless.
You find them on the bed, Billy's head on Michael's chest, the picture of debauchery and, if possible, your cunt is even wetter, their moans and whimpers loud enough to cover the music, making you rush through the last decorations, so that you can join them.
"Love?" Michael's voice is strained from having screamed so much.
"Yes?" You answer, absentmindedly.
"We need to space the ornaments better on the tree."
"Oh bollocks!" Billy swears, arms covering his eyes.
You throw your panties in their general direction, before removing your jumper and socks.
You saunter to the bed, right where Michael is laying, still droning about all the Christmas trinkets in the flat.
"Michael?" He owlishly stares at you, eyes not truly focusing without his glasses, as you straddle his face. "Put that tongue, and mouth, to a better use, will you?"
Cringefail throuple taglist: @fan-goddess
#cringefail throuple#billy washington x reader x michael gavey#billy washington x y/n x michael gavey#michael gavey x reader#michael gavey x y/n#billy washington x reader#billy washington x y/n#michael gavey#billy washington
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Bubz's 12 Days of Ficmas: Day 12 Christmas Eve (Otis Driftwood)
Here we are! The final day of Ficmas 2023!. I hope you all have a Merry Christmas, Happy holidays or if you don't celebrate anything have an amazing next couple days <3
Notes: Minors DNI, SFW, Fluffy, No specific descriptions or pronouns used for reader.
The firefly house was abuzz with the energy and festivities from the impending holiday. The fireflies loved Halloween sure, but since her babies were kids Mama firefly had also wanted to ensure that no matter what her babies had the most "normal" Christmas they could manage.
Even a family of psychopathic murderers deserved to have magical moments during the holidays, she had once said when Spaulding had bitched about going and getting a tree.
You were in the kitchen helping mama make some of the Christmas dinner dishes early so the workload for tomorrow would be a lot less. Mama adored you from the moment Otis had found you and brought you home. You were easily enveloped into the family dynamic were just as much one of her babies as everyone else was.
"Sweetie can you go get Otis to go get me more firewood? We're supposed to get a freeze tonight and I wanna be sure we have enough in case the pipes go"
"Yeah mama"
You replied with a smile before wiping off your hands and heading upstairs to the room you shared with Otis. Hoping to just find him there and that he wasn't already out.
"Otis? you in there?"
You called coming to a halt outside the door. Even though it was your bedroom too, you had learned very quickly to always let Otis know you were coming in. You had made the mistake of not letting him know just once, and he ended up nearly taking your head off.
"Yeah"
You heard him grumble from the other side of the door. Otis never had liked Christmas, no matter how hard Mama tried to keep everyone included in the Christmas spirit. It was always too cheery for him.
You opened the door to the bedroom and poked your head in. You noticed him sitting on the side of the shared bed and fiddling with some sort of wood that was for a future project.
"Mama wants you to go and get some more firewood. There's gonna be a freeze tonight and she wants to make sure we have backup in case any of the pipes bust"
Otis sighed and looked up at you from what he was working on.
"I mean hey out of all the Christmas stuff, going to get firewood is like the least Christmas thing you could do. Would you rather help baby finish decorating?"
His eyes widened and then he rolled them at you.
"Very funny, C'mon"
He said motioning for you to follow him as he got up. You followed him down the stairs and out of the house. If he had to collect firewood you were going to at least help him do so.
"Ya know it would make Mama real happy if you at least, tried to act happy during the holidays"
"Yeah and it would make me happy to get left the fuck alone. But that's not gonna happen is it?"
He simply said with not a hint of attitude in his voice. You gave him a small smile as the two of you approached the wood pile.
"Well it's just she tries so hard to make this a happy time for everyone, it wouldn't hurt you to at least try"
"Christmas just isn't my thing. Never has been, never will be. It's too goddamn happy and bright"
"Not everyday can be Halloween Otis. People gotta be "Happy and bright" sometime during the year"
"Sugar, Halloween makes me perfectly merry and bright"
You gave him a smile as he placed a few pieces on firewood into your arms. Once your arms were full he picked up an armful himself before the two of you began heading back to the house.
"Yeah and Halloween is why we still have that human spine in our fucking bedroom "
Otis laughed at this.
"I didn't have anywhere else to put it sugar"
"Yeah well you didn't have to hang it over our bed as if its tinsel"
"You said you wanted me to decorate our bedroom and make it more "festive" that's exactly what I did"
You rolled your eyes at him.
"You know that's not the type of decorating I meant Otis"
"Well when your with Otis Driftwood, It's the type of decorating you get"
He shot you a big smile as he opened the back door for the two of you to make your way back inside.
"Here's the firewood Mama"
You said rounding the corner to the living room to set it down by the fireplace. The tree Baby decorated was standing tall in the corner of the room adorned with all sorts of mismatch ornaments and garland. Once you set the firewood into the holder by the fireplace you turned to fully take in the tree.
"It looks like Baby just took all the junk out of her room and slapped it on there"
Otis said from behind you, you laughed at his comment.
"Be nice Otis, Baby was up nearly all night decorating this tree"
"That was nice, i could've said it looked like shit"
You smiled and scanned the tree until your eye caught one ornament in particular. The ornament in question was a little picture frame that you could slide a small photo into and hang it on the tree.
The photo that Mama had carefully slid into the small frame ornament was a photo of you and Otis. It was taken a few months after you had been fully accepted as a member of the family by Baby in the kitchen.
Baby had always told you how you somehow managed to melt her brother's cold dead heart and make him actually care about something besides himself but you never fully knew what she meant until she snapped the picture and showed it to you.
There you were, in the middle of Mama's kitchen, making dinner for the family. Otis had his arms wrapped around your waist from behind as you stood at the stove as he thought the two of you were the only two around to see it, not knowing Baby was there with the camera.
Most people would argue that a simple cuddle from behind didn't show anything to do with a person changing. But the fireflies would all know that Otis showing any kind of affection at all wasn't something to just scoff at. Otis showing any emotion other then just plain mean to anyone was almost miraculous. When you had announced you and the white haired killer were "going steady" as Mama put it, you could've sworn half the family almost fell out at the prospect that Otis Driftwood had managed to find himself a partner.
"Why do they still have that fuckin picture?"
Otis said from behind you, snapping you out of your thoughts while you still gazed at the photo.
"I think it's adorable. It's my favorite picture of us to be honest"
You told him truthfully. You adored the photo and were so happy Mama did too, enough to put it in a little ornament for Christmas.
You heard Otis huff behind you, before one of his lanky arms wrapped itself around your shoulders. You allowed him to bring you into his side as you wrapped your arms around his torso as the two of you stood there in front of the tree.
"I really gave you hell the first few months I was here didn't I?"
Otis snorted
"Yeah you and Baby were one in the same, no wonder the two of you were friends before she even brought you here"
A few beats of silence fell between the two of you before you spoke again.
"Merry Christmas Otis. I love you"
"I love you too...Merry Christmas"
#slasher x reader#slasher fandom#otis driftwood#otis driftwood oneshot#otis driftwood x reader#house of 1000 corpses#3 from hell#12 days of ficmas#ficmas#ficmas23#ficmas 2023
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fuck it friday!
i'm a little late to the festivities, but i've arrived and i can finally put the fuck in fuck it friday!
was tagged by @panbuckley, @honestlydarkprincess, @wildlife4life, @wikiangela, @try-set-me-on-fire, @jeeyuns, and @alyxmastershipper (phew)
this is a lil something from a sweet, goofy thing i'm writing when bthb gets too much for my brain, so pls enjoy <3
Sighing, Eddie tucks his face in the hollow of Buck’s throat and breathes in Buck’s sleepy-soft scent. He hooks one of Buck’s legs up over his hip, reaches down to grip the base of his length, and nudges the head of his cock around Buck’s slick hole before bullying all the way inside.
Buck accepts him easily, greedily, and lets loose a hiccuped moan that he muffles against the scruff on Eddie’s cheek. He smears his lips across Eddie’s face, over his cheeks and nose and brow and forehead, and then finds Eddie’s mouth and kisses him, deep and dirty and delicate, like Eddie’s something to savor.
He settles atop Buck’s body, flush head to toe, and frames Buck’s face with his hands. He kisses Buck back, sucks on Buck’s tongue and licks Buck’s taste from his mouth; the white-yellow sun sifting through the curtains warms his shoulders and back and ass and thighs the same way Buck’s touch heats him up.
He pulls back to stare down at Buck. “Hi,” he says, quietly, and chuckles when Buck’s pretty blue eyes cross as he leans down to nuzzle against Buck’s cheeks. He’s flushed red from the heat of their bedroom, face blotchy and hot—the same color as his birthmark. Gorgeous.
“Hi, yourself.” Buck’s hands come up around Eddie’s back; his hands spread wide on Eddie’s ribs, fingers slotting in the divots. He grins, bright as the sun and dirtier than the pornos Eddie sneaked as a teenager. “You’re really deep. Can feel you in my throat.”
“Yeah?” Eddie smiles, pulling out till the tip of his cock’s the only thing inside Buck, before pushing all the way back in. Pleasure sizzles across his shoulders, leaving gooseflesh behind that Buck rubs away with his fingertips. “You’re so fuckin’ wet, baby. Gonna make a mess of you.”
Buck mewls, pathetic and sloppy, and hitches his leg higher up on Eddie’s hip. The angle’s good, allows Eddie to shove the head of his cock against Buck’s prostate as he fucks in, hard and fast. He drops one hand down from Buck’s cheeks to press against Buck’s tummy, right where he can feel himself shoved up inside Buck’s guts.
Eddie drops his forehead onto Buck’s. “Jesus Christ.”
“It’s not polite to say another man’s name while you’re in bed with your boyfriend,” Buck quips, chuckling against Eddie’s mouth, and Eddie fucks in hard once, twice, three times just to hear Buck’s laughter stutter in the back of his throat.
Eddie grins. Serves him right for being a smartass when Eddie fingered him open even after winning the impromptu, uncoordinated round of rock-paper-scissors to decide who was going to bottom this morning. He’s a gentleman like that.
“Eddie—”
“Shut up.” Eddie kisses Buck, bites at Buck’s bottom lip till it’s swollen and red and wet with their spit. “Too much talking, not enough fucking.”
“But Eddie,” Buck says again, a little slurred, as Eddie finds his pace and begins fucking in, deep and hard and slow. “D’you know magnolia trees are over sixty million years old? That means—that means the dinosaurs saw them.”
Eddie huffs. “Buck.” He shifts over onto his elbow, reaching a hand down to wrap around Buck’s hot cock. He strokes up once, plays with the pre leaking from the piss slit, and drags his palm down, but before he can do so again Buck slaps his hand away. “Baby?”
“Don’t wanna come yet,” Buck replies, bug-eyed and slack-jawed. He laces his fingers with Eddie’s on the bed and smiles, ugly and crooked and so remarkable it hurts to look away. “Just wanna be close with you.”
Eddie shuts his eyes and holds Buck’s hand tight, relishing the wave of desire that crashes through his body. One of these days, he’s going to marry this man. He can’t wait.
no pressure tagging: @eddiediaztho, @thewolvesof1998, @jaskierofrivia, @housewifebuck, @shitouttabuck, @mysteriouslyyounggalaxy, and whoever else wants to share!!
#my sincere apologies if anybody's already done this and i just haven't seen it#116 degrees will melt your brain and i'm still recovering even after a shower and dinner and rest#tag games
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Cold Hands, Warm Heart
Miguel x gn!reader
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| Navigation | warnings: None! I just didn’t proofread this 😭. | a/n: I SHOULD NOT BE FEELING FUCKING FESTIVE IN SEPTEMBER. Anyway enjoy 💞. | tags 🏷️: @thethreeeyed-raven @knight-of-flowerss
Miguel’s hands were always cold. Whether in freezing temperatures or scorching heat his hands were always stone cold. You had obviously noticed this.
In the heat his cold hands were useful. The perfect ice pack. If he saw you sweating or red in the face he would cup your face with his giant, cold hands. However in the winter his hands were your worst enemy. You had to wear gloves whenever you went out with him just in case he wanted to hold your hand.
It was winter once again and once again Miguel’s hands were freezing cold. You were out Christmas shopping, trying to find gifts for friends and family. Another problem of Miguel’s is that he never gave you any ideas for gifts. Whenever you ask he always responds with “I don’t know baby. I’m sure whatever you get me will be perfect.” It frustrated you. However this year you had an idea. You were going to tackle his cold hands problem.
“Hey I’m going to go into this shop. You should go get us some coffee while I go in.” You let go of his hand and you enter the store while he walks to the coffee shop. You look around the shop trying to find some gloves. You look around the store, aisle to aisle, trying to find the perfect pair of gloves. Then you see them. A pair of heated, blue and red gloves. You grab them quickly and you pay.
“Hi did you get the coffee?” He nods. “What’s in the bag?” He passes you your coffee and he points to the bag. “Nothing let’s get home.” You smile softly and he takes your hand once again, the coldness of his hand seeping through your gloves.
When you get home, you bound up the stairs with his present in your hands. You had to make it look perfect. You grabbed a box that you had saved and wrapped it in gift wrap that had cute little snowmen saying ‘Merry Christmas.’ You hide the box in your closet and you return to Miguel who gives you a soft peck on the lips.
It was finally Christmas Day. The day you had been waiting for, for the past week. You woke up before Miguel could and you take the present from the closet and you take it down stairs, under the tree.
About an hour later, you hear footsteps creep down the stairs. “Merry Christmas.” Miguel says groggily as he sits down next to you on the sofa. “Merry Christmas.” You reach up and give him a gentle kiss. “You ready to open presents?” You nod eagerly. “Yes but I want you to open mine first.” You squeal excitedly as you reach down to grab his present. “Here.” You pass him the gift waiting for him to unwrap the it. He slowly slashes through the gift wrap and takes the top off of the box. “Gloves?” He takes the gloves out of the box and holds them up. “Yeah! I thought it could help with your cold hands.” You smile softly to him. “Now put them on.” He takes the packaging off of the gloves and tries them on, only for them stop halfway. They didn’t fit. Of course they didn’t fit. His hands were always bigger than the normal human hand.
You look down in defeat “Sorry”. You sniffle a little. “Hey it’s ok I don’t mind.” He pulls you into a hug . “I don’t mind really. I’m more bothered about the meaning behind the gift.” He kisses the top of your head. “I know but I wanted to help you.” You look up to him and look into his crimson eyes. “The only reason I care about my hands is because I know they bother you.” He takes your hands into his. “But your hands are enough to keep me warm.” He gives you a reassuring squeeze and the most soft and genuine smile. “I’m still sorry. You don’t have a gift off of me now.” You lower your head.
“Baby you’re the only gift I’ve ever wanted.”
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a/n: I probably should’ve posted this in December but oh well. Hope you enjoyed 👹💞!
#miguel o'hara#miguel x reader#miguel x you#miguel o hara x you#miguel ohara x y/n#miguel o hara x reader#miguel o hara x y/n#miguel ohara x you#miguel ohara x gender neutral reader#miguel ohara x reader#across the spiderverse#miguel ohara
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have yourself a marry little christmas
Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x fem!reader
Part of my home to you universe // Masterlist
Wordcount: 11K
Summary: The festive season is in its hight in Bradley and Blossom's new house. The couple is ready to welcome Christmas with family and friends, revive old traditions and create new ones. With nothing but happiness on the horizon, the pair is sure to have a memorable first Christmas.
Warnings: domestic fluff with our favourite pair, Bradley in grey sweats, shameless festive smut, oral sex (m receiving), sub!Bradley if you squint, unprotected p in v sex (wrap it before you tap it!), dirty talk, smidge of daddy kink and breeding kink, creampie, let me know if I've missed anything
6 December, 19 days till Christmas
All week the weather had made everyone in their pompously glittering houses just a little Christmas-y. Of course, the temperatures in Southern California could never drop low enough to merit a knee-high snowfall, or black ice on the roads and pavements, but it was chilly enough to make everyone pull the coats and fuzzy scarves from their closets.
Christmas tunes were drifting slowly through the beautiful, almost fully decorated Mediterranean-style home. So far it was the only house on the block that hadn’t gone all out in terms of lights and decorations. But the light-up snowman on the front lawn and the twinkling lights that spanned the length of the eaves, were decoration enough for the happy couple that had moved in about a month ago.
Upon walking up to the dark wood door in the arched entryway, one would be greeted by a simple, but stylishly handcrafted wreath. The twisted branches and evergreen vines were dusted with false snow which made the red of the holly fruit all the more striking.
Then further inside, in the small entry hall, the accent table where you and Bradley would drop your keys upon entering was cluttered with old Christmas cards and small ornaments to amplify the holiday feeling. The door to the walk-in closet was adorned by another wreath, albeit smaller and even less ostentatious than the first.
It was older, a family heirloom like the many other trinkets that were going up on walls and doors as part of your very first Christmas season as a couple.
Finally, a long pine branch garland paired with tiny warm white lights twisted itself around the bannister to the first floor and guided the way up to where the bedrooms were located.
Immediately to the left from the entry hall, through another arched doorway, was the living room where, it seemed, the beating heart of all this Christmas excitement was steadily thrumming.
Boxes, both old and new, littered the floor and couch, each carton lid sporting a different title in a neat blocky handwriting. Those being the last ones to leave the storage compartment where all of Bradley’s family’s belongings had been kept. Decorations were laying across the available surfaces, ready to be either given a proper place or put back in storage.
And the piece-de-resistance in this room was the yet star-less Christmas tree that was standing in front of the three large windows facing the street, showing off its twinkling lights to any passerby.
The electric flames in the faux fireplace seemingly danced to Michael Bublé’s baritone coming from the festive playlist as a string of colourful lights dangled over it. The cable was still half-tangled between your fingers as you balanced on top of a chair in front of the fireplace, trying to hoist the lights over the painting of the sea you got as a move-in present from Penny and Mav which sat above the mantlepiece.
A roll of masking tape hung between your lips and a pair of scissors were tucked inside the pocket of your leggings. Neither was going be used any time soon as you just couldn’t seem to reach high enough to hook the other end of the cable over the damn frame.
You lifted one leg, feeling the chair wobble a little. ‘Shit.’ You stepped back and scoffed at your unfinished work. Bradley had done most of the things that required the extra inches (that you lacked), but with him in the shower you’d given yourself the task to try and finish setting the lights up.
And obviously, you were failing at that miserably.
‘Hey, hey, hey! What the hell do you think you’re doing?’ You felt Bradley’s hands reach for your hips from behind at the same time as his voice came rushing from the doorway.
He made sure you were stable on top of the chair before you he turned you around to face him. ‘I thought you were going to let me deal with the lights, baby.’
‘Yeah, but I thought I’d manage it,’ you explained, untangling the balled-up string of lights in your hands. ‘Stupid painting isn’t cooperating.’
Bradley chuckled, his hands on your hips gently squeezing your sides. His thumbs slipped beneath the edge of your crop top and rubbed short crescent shapes into your skin. You placed your own hand on his face, cupping his cheeks in your small palms and bringing his face closer to yourself. Still on the chair, you were barely half a head higher than him.
His hair was still a little damp, ends sticking out at all directions after he most likely towelled it dry. His skin was flushed from the heat of his shower. His face had a thin sheen over it with the remnants of the cleanser and facial creams you’d taught him to use. Bradley was not all that vain, but he had seemed to gladly accept any tips on self-care from you. That included everything from skincare to dietary tidbits.
You were this close to getting him to switch entirely to oat milk, but he was still taking his coffee with that powdered creamer that made you gag. After seeing the back of the box and the list of “ingredients”, you were convinced that the creamer was called such for appearances only. The general idea of milk relied solely on it being mentioned in the list of flavourings.
You looked further down at his tight black T-shirt and the pair of grey sweats that although loose still outlined his strong, muscular thighs and… all else.
You smirked to yourself, appreciative of your absolute favourite article of clothing Bradley owned, took a tiny step over the chair seat to move closer to him and wrap your arms around his shoulders.
‘You’re looking nice,’ you comment slyly, your eyes darting between his own and the sweats. ‘Looking, uh… real comfortable.’
‘Yeah…’ Bradley briefly glanced down at his clothes and as far as one could see he hadn’t seemed to grasp the extent of your interest in his choice of clothing. ‘Just threw these on so we could finish decorating, but I’ll put something nice for the date.’
‘No, no, no,’ you hastily interjected.
You drummed your fingers on his shoulders and bit on the plushiest part of your bottom lip, stifling that ever growing smirk. With one finger you trailed a line down from his shoulder to the centre of his chest, just at the middle of his sternum.
‘I’m just,’ you pursed your lips and gave an exaggeratedly pointed look towards his lower half, ‘showing appreciation.’
Bradley threw his head back in laughter. Your hands on his shoulder and chest shook with the force of his chuckle. He took a step forward to fully sever the distance between the two of you and wrapped his hands around the small of your back. You leaned slightly back into his tender but firm hold.
To be entirely honest the slight possessiveness of it always managed to get you all fluttery inside.
‘Well, I guess it’s like with guys and sundresses. Right?’
You nodded, ‘Pretty much. You just… you look delicious in these.’
‘Yeah?’ Bradley chuckled, his eyes darkening at your not so innocent insinuation.
His hands slid down your waist to the underside of your ass, lifting you without so much as a twinge of discomfort from the chair. You felt your pussy flutter as slick began to pool onto your panties. Your legs wrapped themselves around his waist, ankles locked at the small of his back so as to keep you as close to him as you could. Your slit came to rub against the top of Bradley’s abdomen which was a welcome friction, but certainly not the kind you were now growing desperate for.
‘And you wanna know what else…’ Bradley murmured against the shell of your ear and it caused another flutter to go through you and peak at the apex of your thighs. ‘I decided to go commando.’
You whimpered. Was he trying to kill you?
You rolled your hips into his hold, trying to rub against his lower belly and possibly urge him to prove his words by showing you. Bradley, however, seemed to have a different idea because he lowered you down on the ground and reached behind you for the line of Christmas lights that was hanging off of the mantlepiece.
‘Come on, I’ll finish setting up the lights.’
‘Wait, wait, wait!’ You halted him, still incredibly turned on and with your face several degrees warmer. ‘Bradley!’
He turned back to you and leaned down to kiss away the pout from your lips. ‘Let’s finish this first.’
‘We can always finish it tomorrow,’ you wiggled your eyebrows suggestively.
‘Nuh-uh, we need to finish it today.’
Bradley had been adamant that one of the Christmas traditions he wanted to revive from his childhood was decorating on St Nicholas day. His mum had been a somewhat devout Catholic and had kept with certain traditions she felt were important to her.
Many of those traditions and beliefs had been, of course, passed down onto Bradley and you genuinely loved that he wanted to start doing them again with you.
It made you two moving in together and being together all the more significant. He was making you a part of his family traditions, as were you. You were weaving each other’s familial pasts into a present and a future where there was no his or hers. There was only ours, together as one.
It made you love him even more.
‘I’ll put up these lights,’ Bradley began. ‘You can check those boxes over there for the tree topper, it should be with the other ornaments. We’ll put it up together and then we’ll have some time to kill before going to the Christmas market. How’s that sound?’
You pursed your lips, considering his proposition. ‘You better be really, really naked underneath those sweats, Lieutenant.’
Bradley laughed again and kissed your forehead before climbing onto the chair to put up the lights.
You made your way to the small mountain of boxes on the couch, digging through years and years of family Christmases and holidays and looking for anything resembling the ornament you were looking for.
After a few minutes of searching, you caught a glimpse of a white and gold point. You reached for it, turning over other pieces of decoration and memorabilia in the cardboard box to pull out a very beautiful Christmas tree topper.
The little rhinestones reflected the surrounding lights which made the star appear as if it was actually shining. There were some specks of dirt and dust given that it had spent nearly two decades in a storage compartment, so you grabbed a rag from the coffee table to give it a very light scrub.
You wanted to make sure you wouldn’t damage a single stone on the piece.
Feeling Bradley’s hands come up to your waist from behind once more, you looked back at him with a comfortable smile. You noticed the rhythmic twinkling of red, green, yellow and blue over his shoulder and you fully twisted your body around to look at the finished work.
‘Oh, Bradley,’ you said softly, ‘they look fantastic.’
He turned with you and wrapped his arms around you, laying a soft kiss on your temple.
‘They’re all pretty well levelled, right?’
A long line climbed up the wall, then broke into neat half-crescent moons across the top half, surrounded the painting above the fireplace, continued off in those rounded shapes and dropped back down the wall to connect to the power outlet behind the Christmas tree. This way, all cables would be hidden from view and wouldn’t be a tripping hazard.
‘They look fantastic!’
Bradley kissed your temple once more before gently urging you forward towards the Christmas tree. The lights, tinsel and baubles were already set up in a beautiful arrangement that kept up with the fairly minimalist style of your decoration.
Both you and Bradley agreed that an elephantine amount of festive ornamentation inside and outside the house would a) be too much for either of your tastes, and b) would make your electricity bill go through the roof. And neither of you wanted your Christmas to be ruined.
Bradley bent down to loop his arm behind your hips, lifting you easily off of the ground again. You shrieked with laughter as Bradley inched both of you closer to the tree. You reached up and placed the star-shaped topped at the very peak of the fake pine tree.
And your hard work was rewarded by the joyful feeling of finally having completed your festive decorating.
Bradley lowered you back on the ground and wrapped an arm around your waist as the two of you admired the fully decorated tree. Christmas tunes continued to drone in the background. Bradley swayed you left and right, singing softly the words of the song in your ear.
He nipped at the skin below it, making you let out a sound that was something between a giggle and a moan. His hand on your waist curled to bring your body around and press it against his own.
‘Are you still interested to see what’s in my grey sweats?’ He asked you sultrily.
‘Oh, I’m pretty sure I can feel it,’ you replied. You wrapped your arms around his neck and brought him down for a much needed kiss.
The twinkling Christmas lights casted a lovely, romantic glow on the two of you as your bodies moved clumsily in the direction of the couch.
You pushed Bradley down first and eagerly climbed into his lap. Your knee knocked into a cardboard box and accidentally sent it flying down to the ground, it’s contents spilling out onto the large Egyptian rug.
‘Right, we might need to tidy up first,’ you said with no small amount of dejection.
You were more interested in keeping up with your current activities, growing wetter by the second as you felt the hard ridge of Bradley’s cock nestling perfectly against your slit. But you also knew perfectly well neither of you would be comfortable on the couch with how cluttered it was.
‘Quickly.’ Bradley instructed. ‘And then we go back to your exploration.’
You cackled at his evident excitement. You got up from his lap and gave a mock salute, ‘Right away, Lieutenant.’
You bent down to pick up the contents of box you had knocked over while Bradley started to collect the ones on the couch and coffee table, hoisting them into his arms and carrying them off to the bottom floor closet for temporary storage. You picked up pieces of old newspapers the were used to cushion the more delicate ornaments, placing each carefully in the box.
Then you foot knocked against something more solid and you looked down to find the edge of what looked like an album that was bound in dark red leather.
You reached down to grasp its edge and picked it up. It didn’t have anything written on the cover so you tentatively flipped it open to find pictures that were meticulously taped two-a-page. And under every picture there was a brief caption and a date.
The handwriting was beautiful. Each letter and digit was like a work of art by itself. It was definitely a feminine hand; you’d seen Bradley write stuff down numerous times and he was perhaps a few degrees off from having a doctor's penmanship.
The first two pictures were of what looked like a table set up with Christmas dinner, the title and date confirming your conclusion. The next two were different snapshots of some people who you didn’t recognise until you turned the leaf and your eyes landed on a picture of two very familiar women.
One was Sarah, much younger and with her wild, curly hair styled in a side parting. She was wearing an incredibly ugly Christmas jumper that matched the one the woman next to her wore.
Bradley’s mum.
Carole’s face was split in half by a massive beam that shined through the very picture. Her arm was thrown over Sarah’s shoulder, pulling her in a half hug. The photo just below it was similar — Sarah and Carole being the only two characters present. It seemed as if Carole was saying something to whoever was taking the photo, pointing a finger at them.
‘Oh my god, where did you find this?’
Bradley looked down at the album over your shoulder. His eyes were wide with surprise and the edges of his mouth were pulling into a grin. He lifted his hand and lowered it gently onto the album’s page.
‘It was in the box I knocked over,’ you explained.
‘Christ, I remember that Christmas. Mom had invited the whole gang,’ he explained and flipped over to the next page.
There were four photos of Maverick and a blond man who was taller and bigger than him, but still very much lean. The caption said Maverick and Iceman.
So that was Sarah’s husband, Tom…
‘Look at uncle Ice.’
Bradley’s smile grew, most likely going into that place in his mind where his most treasured memories lay. His eyes began to glisten when he looked at the fourth picture — his mother was squeezed between the two aviators, the three of them frozen in laughter.
You hummed, unable to find anything useful to say. The dates on the pictures suggested it was the Christmas a couple years or so prior to Carole’s passing. It was surely something that brought no small amount of anguish to your boyfriend at the moment.
Then you flipped onto the next page of the album and couldn’t contain the roar of laughter that escaped you.
There were two pictures of Bradley. One of him on his own, the other of him a whole head and a half taller that his dear mother, but that wasn’t what made you laugh. No, Bradley’s hair was short, styled in spikes with what seemed like copious amounts of gel and he… had frosted tips!
You snorted, trying to contain your giggles. Your whole body shook with the force of your laughter.
‘Look at you hair!’
Bradley tried to grab the album from your hands, but you ran away from him and flipped through it for more compromising pictures.
‘Give it here!’
‘No, oh my!’ You laughed harder when you saw a picture that Bradley had obviously taken of himself in a bathroom mirror, proudly showing off the atrocious hairstyle. ‘W-what?!’
‘It was fashionable!’ Bradley defended when he managed to reach you and tackle you in a hug, prying the album from your hands. ‘And I wasn’t the only guy in high school with that haircut, I’ll tell you that.’
Bradley dropped the album onto the coffee table and stood between it and you, his hands holding your upper arms delicately. Tears had sprung in the corners of your eyes, your shoulders still shook and you could barely keep from laughing. When your laughter had turned to steady giggling, you looked up at Bradley, giving you an exaggerated pout.
‘Aw, baby!’ You reached up to hold his face and lifted yourself onto your tippy toes to kiss his protruding bottom lip. ‘I didn’t mean to laugh that hard. I think you actually looked quite, um… charming?’
‘I was actually.’ Bradley softened, a deep blush painting his cheeks that was visible even in the dim lighting of the living room.
‘Did you do it for a girl or…?’
Bradley scratched the back of his head. ‘Rose Jennings. She was the grade above me, I had a crush on her. Her ex boyfriend had the same hairstyle so I thought she’d like me if I did the same.’
There was something so adorably moronic about him adopting a new style — one that even in the nineties through early naughties was a choice — all to impress a girl. One could put it down as simply teenage foolishness, but you thought it was stupidly sweet. To think that this hunk of a man was once a pining young boy, ready to change his entire appearance at the drop of a hat — all for a crush.
Sweet, but very stupidly so.
‘Oh, no. Did Rose Jennings not like it then?’
‘Well, she didn’t date me,’ Bradley admitted almost shyly. ‘But we did almost go to third base under the bleachers.’
‘Woo hoo!’ You fist pumped the air.
‘It was stupid. I never thought you’d find pictures of me from that time.’
You let out a curt giggle and buried your face in his chest to calm down. ‘The idea of it is starting to grow on me. Have you thought of doing your hair like that again?’
‘God, no!’ Bradley’s chest rumbled with the power of his baritone. You lifted your head and looked at him quizzically.
So even he agreed that that had been a choice.
‘Well, you never know. You could bring that style back. I might let you hit home run since Rose Jennings didn’t give you the same curtesy.’
Bradley rolled his eyes playfully. ‘She did give me a half-handjob.’
‘A half-handjob? What’s that, over-the-jeans action?’
Bradley nodded and it was now your turn to give him a pout. This revelation, however, gave you an idea. A brilliant way to combine your previous conversation, your minuscule obsession with his grey sweats, and this new piece of information.
Your mouth filled with saliva when the idea began to form more solidly in your mind’s eye.
‘Let me imagine you like that for a sec.’ You whispered and made a show of closing your eyes whilst rubbing your temples to conjure the image of Bradley with that horrible hairstyle.
You snorted out another bout of laughter, but remained laser focused on your plan. ‘Okay, okay…’
You let your hands rest on his chest and slowly caress his pecks, searching for the peaks of his nipples. The pert buds began to engorge beneath your touch and you swore you could feel the goosebumps sprouting across Bradley’s skin.
Your hands began moving lower and lower, your nails coming to gently scratch against his stomach. You sneaked your hands underneath, feeling your way across his soft stomach.
You remembered how Bradley had complained about losing his six-pack some weeks ago and you had made it your mission to convince him just how much you enjoyed that extra fluff.
Looking up towards his face, you found his eyes fluttering the moments your fingers teased against the waistband of his sweats. You smiled to yourself, feeling Bradley’s hands bury themselves in the short locks of hair at the back of your head.
Deliberately slow and tender, you kissed his neck — right above the small scar he had on there — before letting your teeth sink into the soft flesh, marking him as your own.
Bradley’s head fell onto your shoulder and he let out a litany of whimpered moans. You pressed your lips against his earlobe, whispering. ‘I know I’m not Rose Jennings—’
‘Y-you’re better,’ Bradley rushed, breathless.
‘I know. And I’ll show you just how I would’ve showed my appreciation.’
Taking a tiny step back from him, you gave yourself enough space to kneel down in front of Bradley while keeping your hands on his hips. Your fingers hooked underneath the waistband of his sweats and before you pulled them down, you looked back up towards Bradley to make sure you weren’t doing anything he didn’t like or want.
But seeing his lust-blown eyes, the complete desperation in them, you knew that stopping now would be more of a torture than anything else.
You slowly pulled his sweats down. His half-hard cock sprang free from its confines, slapping against his left upper thigh. The head was a shade of red that was growing in intensity by the second, appearing almost purple the longer you sat there and did nothing more than take him by the base and give him a couple of lazy strokes.
‘H-happy?’ Bradley rasped.
‘Hm?’
He licked his lips. ‘Told you I went commando.’
You smirked, lowering your lips to the head of his cock and giving it a kitten lick that had Bradley shuddering. You licked the tip again, feeling the salty taste of precum gather on your tongue.
The taste of him was addictive!
‘I knew already. Do you think your own girlfriend would miss the fact that you’re wearing grey sweatpants and nothing underneath?’
‘I guess no— Oh! F-fuck, Blossom!’
Bradley gasped, his head falling back, when you finally spared him from the torture and wrapped your lips around his cock. Your hand at the base began to pump him slowly, working his length at the bottom while you mouth lathered him up in saliva and precum at the top.
You lifted your eyes briefly, looking up at Bradley through the thick curtain of your eyelashes. His bottom lip was firmly lodged between his teeth, biting down on it so hard you were positive once you rose up to kiss him you’d feel the distinct coppery taste of blood on your tongue.
Bradley’s eyebrows were furrowed and eyes fluttered shut as his hips rolled once to meet the heat of your open mouth.
You choked back a little at the sudden intrusion, moaning deep in your throat which only seemed to excite Bradley more. One of his hands came down to your head, finding purchase at the back of it to gather your short locks in a firm hold and pull at it briefly.
You loved when he pulled your hair during sex; it had taken both of you some time to figure out how to build your sense of security in the bedroom which included slightly risky things like hair pulling and choking. Bradley had been patient and maybe too careful, but you had a safe word established and practiced plenty and regularly.
Now there was nothing you loved more than having Bradley grab you by the hair when you went down on him, or even grab your throat and squeeze when he was fucking you like a madman.
His fingers were buried in your soft hair, guiding your head up and down his length. You relaxed your throat and opened wider. The head of his cock hit the back of your throat a smidge too hard on one of his thrusts and you gagged around it, drool dripping down your chin which most likely made for a pretty erotic sight because Bradley’s moans were growing louder.
He sounded completely wrecked.
Your free hand came around his thighs to grab at his buttocks and pull him even further into your throat. You bobbed your head faster and the most debauched sounds fell past your lips, gliding down your bottom lip and chin with your drool.
‘Fuck, baby! Yes, yes,’ Bradley babbled. ‘Fuck, I love this mouth, love this mouth so much! God, if you could just— fuck, see yourself right now… ngh, fucking gorgeous. With my cock in your mouth, baby.’
You relished in the incoherent praise and doubled down on your efforts, trying to take more and more of him in your mouth. You felt every engorged vein, every ridge of him against your tongue as you slid his cock in and out of your mouth.
Bradley’s voice rose in octaves and completely overtook the persistent hum of the Christmas playlist. His chin was pressed against his chest as he gazed down at you through half-lidded eyes, but even so you could see his soft brown irises had turned dark with desire.
‘Fuck, my beautiful girl. My gorgeous, gorgeous girl. I love you, I fucking love you, baby.’ He groaned louder when you twisted your hand at the base of his cock as you dragged it up and then down.
You moaned around his length in response, gagging and tearing up at the strain in your throat but you kept at it. The pain was more pleasure than pain. And if it meant seeing Bradley fall completely apart, unable to even keep standing on his own two feet, then you’d take it all.
‘Oh, I’m gonna come,’ Bradley whimpered. ‘Can I come in your mouth, baby? Can I— fuck!’
You lifted your head so only the tip of his cock rested against your tongue. Your saliva-soaked hand kept jerking him closer and closer to completion.
‘Come, Bradley. Come in my mouth.’
His head fell back as a strangled groan ripped out of his chest. His hand in your hair fisted it harder as you worked him through his orgasm, ropes of cum flying into your open mouth and filling it with that familiar salty taste.
Bradley lowered his hand from your hair to your chin and lifted your face so he could see you better. You made a show of showing him your filled mouth and swallowing down his seed with an exaggerated gulp that had him groaning once more.
‘Fuck, Blossom. You little minx.’
You helped him by lifting the waistband of his sweats and covering him back up, the alluring sight of his softening cock being the last thing you see before the grey material covered it again. It allowed for an equally alluring sight of that same cock outlined by the cotton material.
Bradley caressed your chin affectionately, humming in approval when you wiped the remnants of drool from your chin and got up. He helped you by holding your arm and once you were upright once more, he lowered his lips to capture yours in a kiss that had such depth you thought he’d merge himself to you.
‘Was I better than Rose Jennings?’
Bradley huffed, ‘I can’t even remember who that was.’
Your softly murmured good boy was met with a visible shudder on his part. He dipped down for another kiss that rewarded both of you.
‘Come,’ he urged gently when the two of you separated, a line of spit being the only thing still connecting your lips. ‘Let’s get dressed and head to the Christmas market before I fuck you on this couch.’
‘We can do both in succession if you’d like.’
The Uber driver dropped you off at the entrance of the market, wishing you both a merry Christmas. Like a true gentleman, Bradley helped you out of the car and thanked the man once again before gently pushing the door shut. He entwined your gloved fingers with his bare ones as the two of you made your way through the maze of huts.
The alpine-style structures offered the ultimate Christmas atmosphere. They were adorned with small lanterns and plush fake snow. The vendors wore red and white hats with bells at the end that jingled with each of their move. And at the end of the first row, there was a sign directing you to each part of the Christmas market.
‘Oh, we should grab a bite to eat at the bratwurst hut,’ you suggested excitedly. ‘And drink gluhwein. And then we can see about getting some presents for the family.’
Bradley let you lead the way. ‘I’m down for all that. I wanna check out the skating rink, if you’re up for it.’
You considered the proposition for a moment. Ice skating had never been something you were good at, being slightly clumsy in general meant that unstable surfaces were even more of a hinderance to your walking — or even standing — abilities.
‘I’m willing to give it a go,’ you told him. ‘But if I fall and bruise my ass—’
‘I’ll gladly kiss it.’
‘Ew, Bradley!’
He laughed good-naturedly when you slapped his chest. ‘Don’t pretend like you wouldn’t like that.’
You raised a brow and lowered your voice to a whisper. ‘Are we really considering public sex?’
‘We already did that, baby.’ Bradley’s lips pulled in a triumphant smirk as he led you in the direction of the bratwurst hut. ‘Halloween night at the Hard Deck.’
‘That doesn’t count,’ you retorted.
On Halloween, Bradley had wanted to improve your mood after the disappointing start of your house hunting. The two of you had gotten slightly drunk on Margaritas and one too many Jäger bombs. At some point during the night, you had snuck into the men’s toilets and stumbled into a stall to enjoy some risky behaviour.
‘It totally counts,’ Bradley argued as the two of your joined the queue in front of the hut that was maybe a little too heavy on the lederhosen-wearing cartoon sausages. But the sound of crackling meat and smell of spices made up for the gaudy decor.
Mindful of the random people that surrounded you, Bradley lowered his voice too. ‘The guys walked in on us, remember? Bagman even barged in our stall.’
You chuckled, ‘Okay, okay. They didn’t see much thought. I was wearing that long black dress on so we were both pretty covered.’
‘Mmm, you did look really hot as Rhaenyra Targaryen.’ Bradley leaned down to kiss the corner of her jaw and she swatted him away. ‘Bouncing in my lap like a cock-hungry slut.’
‘Shush!’ Despite the nippy December wind, you felt your entire face grow hot at his teasing. ‘And it certainly didn’t help that we’d shotgunned that joint beforehand.’
‘Don’t know, made everything a bit more… colourful, didn’t it.’
You looked up at him with a small smirk. There was a certain mischievous glint in his eye that was hardened by the vivid Christmas lights surrounding you. If you knew he’d be in such a mood after the fun you’d had back home, you’d known to give it even more effort. You loved seeing Bradley so relaxed and yes, even his bouts of extreme horniness that always seemed to flourish in inappropriate times and places was a part of him you adored.
‘I’m not sure about the wursts anymore,’ you told him with a joking lilt to your voice. Bradley raised his eyebrows and inquired as to your meaning. ‘Me, gobbling down a sausage. Don’t wanna give you ideas.’
Bradley barked out a laugh which startled the old couple standing in the queue in front of you. He apologised through a fit of giggles that had you hiding your mouth behind your gloved fingers to stifle your own laughter. The elderly woman who had her arm around her husband’s smiled at you both, assuring you it was fine and complimented you on what a charming couple you two make.
The rest of the evening was spent going from hut to hut, trying different festive delicacies and drinks. Two mulled wines each later, you were warm enough to take off your gloves and stuff them in your pocket. Bradley’s own hands offered enough warmth for you as he led you down the busy path, offering to buy you anything you’d like.
The two of you stopped in front of a place that had a wide display handmade Christmas tree toys. The most interesting part of their work was the offer to take a picture in their photo booth that they would then put in a little plastic sphere or heart-shaped bauble.
‘It’s gonna be nice to have something to commemorate our first Christmas together,’ you told Bradley and led him to the photo booth so you two could participate.
Ten minutes later you were moving off to another part of the Christmas market with your bauble packed in a little bag. Bradley carefully pulled you to stand in front of him while he steered both of you in the direction of the ice skating rink some hundred feet away.
While he was paying for your entrance, your phone buzzed in your coat’s pocket and you pulled it out to see a new message had popped up in the Bitchezzz United group chat you had with Phoenix, Frankie and Halo.
QueenNix💁🏻♀️: BLOSSOM!!!
QueenNix💁🏻♀️: checked in with the shelter today. they’ll keep the little guy until next week. Frankieand I will pick him up and keep him at our place until xmas eve.
You gasped, typing out a quick response.
FlowerPower🌼: That’s perfect! Thank you so much! Keep the receipts for food and anything like that.
baddie with a fattie💋💋: absolutely not babes!
FlowerPower🌼: absolutely yes! Keep the receipts or I’ll ask Amelia to hack into your banking accounts so I can see how much I owe you and give you money instead of xmas presents!
Halo reacted to your message with a laughing emoji. An ellipsis appeared next to Phoenix’s profile picture before her next message appeared.
QueenNix💁🏻♀️: ill keep a tab on any expenses but it’s seriously not an issue. we’re excited to see Bradley’s reaction!!!
FlowerPower🌼: thanks, Nix! Im excited as well! Gotta go now, Bradley took me ice skating.
carbs4life🍔🍜🍕: send pics!
QueenNix💁🏻♀️: say hi to mr chicken
baddie with a fattie💋💋: trip him up lmao
Before Bradley could see your chat as he made his way back to you, two pairs of skates in hand, you pocketed your phone.
‘The girls say hi,’ you told him as he knelt at your feet to untie your shoe laces.
‘They’re still on for Christmas Eve, right?’ He asked.
You nodded in response while he pulled your shoes one at a time, then helped you into the skates. They were a nice cream colour, fleece lined which warmed up your feet immediately. After he was done with your own, Bradley quickly slipped out of his Timbs and into a pair of much larger black skates.
‘How did they manage to find boat sized shoes for you, I’ll never know.’ You joked. Bradley tickled your sides in retaliation which made you yelp and you clamped your mouth shut.
You watched him with a smile while he fiddled with the shoe laces, very much excited yourself to see the reaction to his Christmas present. You’d managed to get this far with the secret, hiding the fact that you’d been scouring the websites of all breeders and shelters in the state for the perfect puppy. Bradley had told you he’d always dreamed of having a dog and seeing as you had space to fill in your big house, you thought a dog would be a welcome gift.
‘Ready?’ Bradley got up from the bench and offered you his hand.
You beamed at him and nodded, sliding your palm in his own and letting yourself be pulled to your feet.
The pair of you waddled your way to the door and carefully got onto the rink, making sure not to fall over the moment the blades of your skates touched the false ice. But with Bradley’s hand firmly holding yours, you began to abandon your worries and happily slide around the rink with him.
24 December, 0 days till Christmas
The dinner table was extended and covered by a beautiful, red table cloth. There were candles spread around in the few gaps that weren’t filled by plates and bowls of various foods. There was a turkey in the middle of the spread, surrounded by smaller dishes containing stuffing, gravy, Bradley’s potato salad, and a pear and red onion chutney you’d made from scratch. There were bowls of dried fruit and a basket of bread from the nearby bakery. The first bottle of red wine was open and left to decant on a side table, surrounded by a fresh set of merlot glasses you’d gotten as part of your list of move-in must-haves.
The food around the table was perhaps enough to feed an army, but knowing full well that a majority of their guests would be an ever-hungry bunch of Navy guys, it made sense. Payback alone could probably finish the turkey by himself and then ask for another. Bob was the easiest to cook for, because he had the stomach of a chicken and rarely asked for second helpings even if your inner grandma was constantly pushing more things onto his plate because he needed the nourishment.
You’d left Bradley in the kitchen to finish the chocolate mousse while you showered and changed into something nice. That wasn’t too tricky a desert to do and the only thing you asked of him was to whip it until it was an airy consistency. You could say you were confident in his abilities to let him.
Something happened in the shower; you couldn’t tell if it was the festive spirit, the excitement for the night ahead, or simply the fact that you had started to imagine Bradley in his crisp white shirt and dark blue slacks carefully handling a chocolate mousse.
You could peg it to ovulation-related horniness, but the thoughts kept coming to the forefront and the hot water stream just elevated those feelings to another level.
His large hands wrapped around the whisk or wooden spoon, flicking through the mousse with a military precision. His muscles tensing under the material of the shirt with every move. His plush lips pursed in concentration.
By the time you got to your closet in search of an appropriate dress to wear, you’d decided you wanted to add on to his Christmas present in a more personal, more pleasurable way.
Your heels clicked against the wood of the stairs as you descended, making your way to the back and into the kitchen. The skirt of your red dress swished around your thighs and you intentionally swung your hips a little more so that the fabric could flare about you seductively. Your put your left hand behind you, wanting to partially obscure the bunched up lacy fabric in your first.
Your plan seemed to have worked because Bradley’s eyes were immediately on you when you entered the room.
Bradley’s mouth hung open with the wooden spoon he had been using to stir the mousse halfway up. You walked to his side and wrapped your free arm around his middle, making a final check on the mousse. You peeled yourself off of him and dipped a finger in it, tasted, and the sweetness melted on your tongue.
You let out a deep moan before grabbing the spoon from Bradley and scooping some more of the mousse onto it. ‘Oh my god! This is to die for!’
‘Your dress is to die for,’ he commented before taking back the spoon and throwing it in the sink. He pushed the bowl of mousse out of the way before turning you around to face him. You chuckled at the seriousness and determination in his eyes which raked up and down your form, fully taking in your outfit.
The sweetheart neckline offered a nice view of your cleavage which was enhanced by the bra you knew him to harbour strong feelings for. The dress was cinched at the waist before flowing freely down your hips, reaching just shy of your knees.
Bradley’s hands wondered from your shoulders to your sides and waist, fully appreciating your outfit and you in it. You were patiently waiting for him to have his fill before spilling the contents of your hand in his own.
‘You look beautiful, Blossom.’
You smiled up at him. ‘Thank you, baby. Thought I’d finally put this dress on, it’s been in our closet for months.’
‘You should’ve worn it out by now. Torn it to shreds.’
‘Yeah?’
Bradley nodded eagerly. ‘I certainly would’ve helped with that.’
Your eyebrows twitched and a self-satisfied smirk made its way onto your lips.
‘Why don’t we give it a test flight then?’
You lifted your left hands high enough to slip the bunched up lace in his slacks’ pocket. While he was reaching for his surprise, you lifted yourself onto the kitchen island and leaned back on your palms, watching him expectantly.
The moment his fingers touched the lace, you knew you had him. His eyes widened comically and you noted how his pupils dilated at the slow, but sure realisation exactly what he was touching.
He pulled his hand out of his pocket, slowly turning the lace panties that matched your bra between his fingers. He paused for a second, taking the sight of them in, before putting them back in his pocket.
You leaned forward on the counter, smiling innocently at your boyfriend in who’s eyes you could see an ocean of emotion that was spilling over the edges. You swung your legs back and forth and simply waited for him to make the next move. Which he soon enough did.
Bradley’s hand landed softly on your bare knees and climbed higher and higher, reaching underneath the hem of your dress to feel the smooth and soft skin underneath. The moment he reached the tops of your thighs, he felt his way around for any sign of a material obstructing his touch. And when he couldn’t find any, but could touch freely — which he did and caused a soft sigh to tumble past your lips — he grabbed you by the hips and pulled you closer to his body.
You gasped audibly when your naked slit pressed tightly against his covered zipper, underneath of which his cock had begun to swell. You wanted him like this, in this position, no prep, no nothing. Your pussy was so wet and aching for him that you were certain that him sheathing himself within you would bring you to the brink.
‘You know we’ve got guests coming soon.’
He was giving you a way out, but you couldn’t care less if they were right outside your door.
‘Not for another half-hour we don’t.’ You raised a single eyebrow. ‘Think you can finish by then?’
Bradley took your face in his hands, leaned down, and pressed his lips against yours. His kiss was hard and demanding. His tongue invaded your mouth without a second of deliberation.
His hands ran over your curves, pulling you closer and melding your chests together. He lifted your skirt higher while you reached for the fly of his slacks. Your fingers trembled in anticipation and it took you a second to pry two flaps open, nearly tearing the button out of its place.
‘Baby, can I fuck you without a condom,’ Bradley begged against the heat of your open mouth. ‘I wanna feel you, all of you.’
You moaned loudly. Your head dipped back and offered the expanse of your neck to his wanting mouth. His lips trailed wet, open kisses across your skin down to your collar bones. ‘Yes! Oh, yes, please!’
You reached inside the opening in Bradley’s slacks, freeing his cock from his confines. He groaned against your shoulder when your delicate hand wrapped around the base of his length and pressed it up against your soaking cunt.
‘Oh, fuck, baby! You’re so fucking wet for me, beautiful.’ He sighed, tangling one hand in the hair and angling your head to his liking.
His other hand slipped back underneath the skirt of the dress, his thumb pressed against your clit and applied pressure that was barely there to the little bundle of nerves that had you crying out.
‘Is this why you did this? Wore this dress, took your little panties off and presented your hungry pussy to me for the taking. Huh, hoped I’d fuck you like this? Like the good little slut you are?’
‘Yes, Daddy.’
‘Fuck!’
Your hand on his cock guided him in, your walls opening and sucking him in. Bradley bottomed out without wasting another second and stilled; he dropped his forehead against yours and held you like that.
‘Bradley,’ you whimpered and tried rolling your hips into his own. ‘Please, move, Daddy. I need— need you so much. Please.’
‘Give me a sec,’ he murmured in response. ‘I need to last long enough, baby. Can’t give my good girl everything she needs if I shoot my load too soon. And I wanna reward you, show you how much I liked your little surprise.’
‘You like it?’
‘Yeah, beautiful. If this is my Christmas present, I can tell you…’ Bradley thrust into your heat once, deep and slow, and made you see stars, ‘…it is a very good present.’
‘It- It’s no— ah! not your only pre-present,’ you sobbed while his thrusts picked up in pace and force.
He began to fuck into you, your barely covered ass sliding against the marble counter, but Bradley’s large hands kept a firm grip on your hips as he half-guided your body towards his own. Your breaths caught in your throat, eyes rolled back to the back of your head. With shaky hands you gripped his shoulders while your legs fell wide open on their own accordance to allow him more room.
‘My beautiful, beautiful woman. My fucking girl. Mine!’ Bradley growled against the side of your neck, mere inches from your ear.
You keened at the possessiveness and pulled him closer, clawing at the collar of his shirt. If the material wrinkled, you couldn’t care less. You’d strip it off of him yourself and iron it later, or even better — let him wear his wrinkled shirt to dinner and let all your guests know what transpired between the two of you. Right there on the kitchen island. A foot or so away from the chocolate mousse, you’d be serving them for dessert.
Bradley nudged the collar of your dress to the side, baring your shoulder to his hungry mouth, and sucked on your skin like he was trying to consume you. His hips snapped harder against yours with every whimper, every wail of exaltation. His hands wondered around your body, touching anything covered or bare so he could, everything within his grasp.
You felt desired, worshiped, adored. Bradley’s hips rolled against yours, his cock slipping in and out of your soaked cunt with what could only be oxymoronically be described as tender force. Those lustful feelings that had spurred your impromptu seduction melted into a very poignant sensation which softened your touch against his own body.
Everything seemed to take on a fuzzy, pink hue.
You smoothed Bradley’s hair back, kissing his face tenderly and sighing against his flushed skin. His own breaths rang like bells against your ear and before you even thought to ask him to kiss you, his lips were joining with yours.
‘I love you, I love you so much,’ he groaned, almost desperately. ‘I love you.’
You gasped into his open mouth and he swallowed your rushed breath, peppering your lips with his kisses.
‘I know, I know. I love you, Bradley.’
‘Please, come on my cock, baby. You know how much I love it,’ thrust ‘know how much I love when you squeeze me, fucking drench me’ thrust ‘oh, baby, you feel so fucking good!’
Your legs wrapped around his waist and pulled him even closer.
‘Come in me, Bradley. Give it to me, fill me up. Please, please, ple— AH!’
Your wail of pleasure and surprise came at the exact moment Bradley’s cock made one final plunge in your depths. The sensation threw you over the edge and you came shuddering, clutching Bradley against you. You felt him twitch inside you, shoot his hot seed into your quivering cunt and come to a halt.
Full. You felt full and satiated. Like a cat that had a bowl-full of cream and was lounging in a sun spot.
Bradley stayed buried inside you longer than he usually did. You caressed his face, his neck, loathe to let him go. This felt too good and too special to end so soon.
‘Marry me.’
You pulled your face back and looked up at him. Your eyes were wide and mouth agape. All thoughts save but one left your mind with your breath which had stilled in your throat. Your hands came up to hold his face and Bradley’s own rose to cover yours. There was a flicker of uncertainty in his gaze when he licked his lips to speak again.
‘Marry me.’
You blinked dumbly. ‘What?’
Bradley bit his lip and you wanted to kick yourself for how uncoordinated you’d become in the wake of his proposal.
‘This was going to be half of my Christmas present for you. I- I thought… never mind.’
He began to pull away, his softening cock slipping out of you. You gripped his jaw a little tighter and made him stop, staring deeply into his eyes. He couldn’t think you were rejecting him, could he?
Oh, you silly, silly man!
‘Ask me.’ You said firmly.
Bradley’s features twisted in hesitation before he licked his lips to say once more, ‘Marry me.’
You gasped, bottom lip trembling and eyes filling with tears. ‘Yes. Yes, yes, yes!’
‘Yes?’ He repeated, astonished.
‘Yes!’ You exclaimed. ‘God, Bradley, yes! I will marry you, I will be your wife!’
Bradley grinned broadly, holding your face in his hands and watching you as if you’d made him the happiest he’d ever been. You sincerely hoped you had, because he’d made you the happiest you had ever been.
And all with but a single request.
‘I- I have an actual present, too.’
‘I couldn’t care less about that.’
‘But it’s really nice,��� Bradley assured you. ‘It can double as an engagement present as well. But if you want a separate one, I’ll get it. I’ll give you everything, Blossom. I love you.’
‘I love you, Bradley.’ You sobbed. Tears of joy dropped onto your cheeks as you pulled him back in to pepper his face with kisses, making Bradley chuckle.
‘You really had me there for a second. Thought you were going to reject me.’
You shook your head. ‘Could never. I love you and I want to marry you, have wanted it for such a long time. I just never thought it’d happen right after you fucked me on the kitchen island.’
Bradley laughed and pressed his forehead to yours as the two of your stopped your furious kissing to catch your breath. ‘I had a much more romantic proposal in mind. At the dinner table with our friends, but the post nut clarity—’
‘Thank god, for post nut clarity!’
Bradley kissed you again and seemed to savour the kiss with an unquenchable thirst. He then looked at you again, nothing but joy in his eyes. He held up a finger for you to hold for a moment, pulled free of you with a grunt, tucked his now placid cock in his slacks and told you to wait for him there.
‘Can I have my panties?’ You asked as he made his way out of the kitchen.
He smirked. ‘Oh, no. These are staying with me tonight, baby.’
You patiently sat on the kitchen island, your thighs clenched together to keep Bradley’s seed inside. You felt high, higher than anything could ever get you. You kept thinking over the whole proposal, delving deeper and deeper into that pool of absolute, unadulterated joy you felt.
He wants to marry you.
Bradley will be your husband, you will be his wife.
Not more than five minutes later, he was back in the kitchen and jogged over to you. In his hand he had a small blue box that he swiftly unlidded to reveal two beautiful rings nestled inside. Both were very simple, without many embellishments, but to you they were as grand as diamonds and rubies.
‘They belonged to my mom and dad. Maverick gave them to me the day you got the job. I would’ve proposed then, but knew it was too early and I wanted my proposal to you to be special. If you don’t like them, we can go and get newer ones—’
You kissed him to stop his worried rambling, holding his face in your hands and smoothing your thumbs over his reddened cheeks. You then gazed down lovingly at the two golden bands before taking the larger one and holding it in your hand whilst giving your now fiancé an expectant look.
‘I love them. Don’t think about changing them, they mean a lot to you and so they do to me.’
Bradley nodded and took the smaller ring from the box, reaching for your left hand and slipping it onto the appropriate finger. You waited for him to feel the power of this moment before you gently clasped his own left hand and slipped the other ring on.
You looked up at Bradley and he looked down at you, both of you entirely lost in your shared joy. He leaned down to kiss your lips for what was probably the hundredth time that evening, but did it truly matter — you were happy beyond all explanation.
Just then the doorbell rang, singling the arrival of your guests.
Bradley hastily fixed the collar of his shirt which, surprisingly, didn’t look as rumpled as you thought it’d be. He then helped you off of the kitchen island, telling you to go greet whoever was at the door while he finished setting up the table.
You couldn’t leave his side before stealing another kiss, and then another, and another. But the insistent ringing of the bell had you running off to get the door.
‘Hey, Blossom!’ Hangman greeted you cheerfully, his hand clasped around the neck of a red wine bottle.
Coyote was standing right over his shoulder and followed him into the hallway. He gave you a brief hug before moving out of the way for Payback and Fanboy to walk in as well. It was, perhaps, the first time you’d seen any of them in anything other than uniforms or casual clothing — the four of them wearing suits, but still keeping with their casual nature by wearing trainers. Apart from Hangman, of course, he was always making sure he looked as if he’d jumped out of a GQ magazine spread.
It was a succession of hugs, exchanges of Merry Christmas’s and polite compliments on your outfit which made you look away sheepishly, knowing just how downright inappropriate the intention behind your dress (and lack of underwear) had been.
‘Damn, this place looks nice!’ Coyote exclaimed when you showed the guys the way to the dining room. ‘Where’s Bradley?’
‘Over here, man.’
Bradley came out of the kitchen, carrying the board of cheeses and cured meats you’d fixed up earlier. You smiled when you caught the soft twinkling of the ring on his finger. The guys exchanged quick festive greetings with him and began chatting as if there’d been no time between seeing each other last and now.
Payback turned to you for a moment. ‘Don’t wanna be a bother, but wanted to ask—’
‘Don’t worry, Bradley and I made sure to make all foods halal and kosher. Sarah’s coming too, so we were extra careful with the ingredients.’
‘Aw, thanks, bud!’
‘Don’t mention it! We’re glad you all agreed to spend Christmas Eve with us. It feels really nice to fill the house with people,’ you gushed.
‘I bet!’ Fanboy joined the conversation, standing on Payback’s side. ‘Still can’t believe your guys’ luck! The house looks amazing!’
The doorbell rang again.
‘Bradley? Baby, mind pouring the guys some drinks, I’ll go see who’s at the door.’
‘It’s probably Mav. He texted that he, Penny, Sarah, and Amelia were a close.’
True to his word, once you opened your door you were greeted by the four of of them, arms full with present bags and boxes. Amelia was first to rush forward and bundle you in a bear hug, followed by a much calmer Penny who kissed your cheeks and praised the wreath on the front door.
‘Thank you! Bradley and I made it,’ you said proudly. But once you lifted your hand to push your hair out of your forehead, Penny seemed to catch sight of the ring on your left hand and let out a gasp. Then came Sarah who gently took your hand so the two women could examine the delicate band on your ring finger.
‘Oh, sweetie! Is this…?’
You grinned. ‘As of ten minutes, yes. The other guys haven’t noticed yet.’
Amelia was ecstatic and ran off to find the group of aviators and rub in their noses their inability to notice this very important fact. You laughed when you heard the boom of cheers coming from the kitchen, bringing your attention back to Penny, Sarah and Mav who gave you their congratulations.
‘What are we celebrating?’ Came Frankie’s voice from the open doorway. She, in her usual fashion, was dressed to the nines in a sparkling green dress which meticulously hugged her curves and matched her glittery eyeshadow. Halo and Bob came in after her, both of them dressed very sharply, but anyone would pale after Frankie’s dazzling entrance.
‘Phoenix is in the car with the puppy. Want us to bring him in now?’ Frankie whispered to you once you’d directed the others to the kitchen.
Just then Phoenix herself appeared at the doorstep and in her hands was a little black fur ball with a large red bow wrapped loosely around its neck.
You couldn’t contain the aw that escaped your lips once you finally saw the puppy you’d chosen as Bradley’s present. The cane corso started to wagging his tail, sniffing the air about you and trying to get out of Phoenix’s arms. She handed him to you and the little guy couldn’t sit still until he could lift himself high enough to lick at your chin.
‘Oh, you are just precious!’
‘We’ve got his documents from the shelter,’ Phoenix explained and lifted the small bag that was handing from her elbow. ‘We brought his food, he’ll be good for the next month at least. Frankie overspent on that and treats.’
‘It’s ‘cause he gave me these eyes. Oh, babes, he gives you those eyes and you can’t not give him a treat!’
You chuckled, smoothing the puppy’s sleek black coat back which meant that your two best friends were the next to learn of the recent developments, both gasping audibly when they saw the ring on your finger.
‘Okay, come in now both of you, we should go take this little man to Daddy.’ You said after another series of squeals, screeches, shouted congratulations, and more face licking from the puppy in your arms.
Frankie gave you her typical lopsided smirk. ‘Is that how you got him to propose? Called him Daddy?’
You jokingly slapped her ass when she walked in front of you. ‘Shush you!’
‘Oh, Daddy! Give me a ring, I’ll be a good girl!’ She gave an exaggerated moan and a sigh, throwing a hand over her forehead and leaning against the living room doorframe in an overdramatic fashion. ‘Okay, okay, let’s go take the little guy to Bradley!’
The three of you, grinning from ear to ear in anticipation, hurried off to the dining room, greeted by the sight of all the guests either sitting at the table and enjoying an aperitif. Bradley was standing near the door to the kitchen, talking to Bob and Maverick, when he caught sight of you and your eyes widened at the contents of your arms.
‘Oh my god!’
‘Merry Christmas, baby!’
‘Oh my god! Is that for us?’
Bradley crossed the distance between the two of you and reached out for the puppy that was now more interested in this new human that in you. Bradley picked him up and hugged him to his chest. Everyone around the room gushed over the adorable puppy.
‘It’s for you mostly,’ you explained to him. ‘Frankie and Phoenix put in me in touch with a shelter in San Fransisco after I said I was looking for a puppy. Apparently, someone found this little guy tossed out on the street as a newborn.’
‘Yeah, some dickhead,’ Frankie supplied.
‘Aw, buddy,’ Bradley gushed, screeching the puppy behind the ears which the he seemed to adore. ‘Guys, I need a cool name.’
‘Thor.’
‘No, Zeus.’
‘I think Cerberus is a badass name for… what is he, a doberman?’
‘Cane corso,’ you explained, already thinking over the name Cerberus.
It was a fitting name for a dog like this, would be in complete contrast to how sweet he was, but in the end the decision was all Bradley’s.
‘Well, Cerberus is a badass name,’ Bradley agreed and groaned when the little guy licked his cheeks. ‘Oh, we’re gonna be best fucking friends, buddy.’
You patted him on the shoulder. ‘Alright, let’s sit down and eat, because I don’t want our efforts to go to waste.’
Payback barked out a laugh and pointed at the turkey. ‘No way, we’re leaving this place before obliterating this.’
‘Wait, is this a Christmas and an engagement dinner then?’ Phoenix asked when she took up the chair next to yours.
You shared a brief look with Bradley who simply smiled and gave you a shrug. ‘I guess it is.’
Maverick grabbed his wine glass and lifted it proudly in the air. ‘To Bradley and Blossom then.’
Everyone followed suit with the toast before taking a long sip to your health and happiness. Bradley, still holding little Cerberus in his arms, leaned down to give you a quick kiss on the lips. You placed your hand on his cheek and looked into his eyes, finding that serenity you felt reflected back to you.
‘Merry Christmas, baby.’ Bradley whispered to you as he raised his lips to your forehead, leaving a delicate peck upon your warm skin.
‘Merry Christmas to you, too.’ Your mouth twitched in a smile. ‘Fiancé.’
Bradley sighed contentedly. ‘I’m really starting to enjoy the sound of that. Be even better when I’m promoted to husband.’
‘Keep being your usual self and I’ll promote you sooner rather than later,’ you promised him.
‘I’ll hold you to that.’
You giggled and leaned back in your chair, taking the offered bowl of salad that Phoenix held. You spared a quick glance in Bradley’s direction still in disbelief that someone could make you so happy.
But there he was, you wonderful man, your fiancé with a puppy in his arms and an engagement ring on his left hand that promised you happiness and love.
What a perfect Christmas…
Happy holidays to you all! Sorry I couldn't post this earlier, I'd planned to make it into two parts, but I was sick then something not very nice happened to me at work so that's why it was delayed. Hope you're all having fun today, however you're spending it (if you're not celebrating Christmas)! 🌸
(taglist is still open, click here and fill out this Google Form)
home to you tags: @gretagerwigsmuse @jupitercomet @youlightmeupfinn @craftymoonchaos @the-winter-marvel33 @agent-jbarnes @blahehblah @katieshook02 @amysteryspot @daisyhollyxox @marantha @piceous21 @mak-32 @twoosinrooster @adoringsebstan @everyoneslovechild @shityoudidntaskfor @alluringshawn @marsontoast @lemur46 @taytaylala12 @benhardysdrumstick @strangeangelflapsuitcase @eugene-emt-roe @shanimallina87 @beachesandboats @ishipit1420 @machsachds @wishfulhope (crossed over names are people I wasn't able to tag, sorry)
#home to you#christmas special#bradley bradshaw x female reader#bradley bradshaw x reader#rooster x reader#top gun maverick
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I felt like giving you ideas again since yes
All are Pavitr x Readers
Angst :: Basically, this one can be a little hard to right but like, if you know Hamilton, the song "Satisfied" / "Burn/First burn"
Fluff :: It's basically from Hamilton (lol) again but it's the song "Helpless"
Princess!Reader x Commoner!Pavitr :: YOU AND PAVITR SNEAKING OUT INTO THE FORESTS HOLDING HANDS AND BASICALLY SHOWING PDA WHILE YOU R DISGUISED SO PEOPLE DON'T RECOGNIZE YOU AS THE PRINCESS <33
@ Feel free to use these ideas <3
Write well my fav writer ♡♡
Princess and the Spider
🕸MASTERLIST🕷
Pairing: Commoner!Pavitr Prabhakar x Princess!Reader
Summary: Pavitr and you sneak out into the woods, your secret spot. Lots of holding hands and basically showing PDA while you're disguised so no one recognizes you as the Princess
Tags: Fantasy AU, Royalty, Secret Relationship, Lantern festival
Also Read on AO3
Deep brown skirt brushes against your feet as you run through the forest, the fabric swishing with your every move. The breeze is infrequent yet soothing enough under the scorching summer sun.
The empty jug in your arms feel heavy as you finally reach your secret place -the river bank- and lean down, filling the jug with water before you drink from it. Satisfied, you look into the moving waters to see your blurry reflection staring back at you. Dang, if your mother even got word of the state you’re in...
Tainted clothes, slippers, ungloved hands and in the wild without guards or handmaidens? Your mother, the Queen, will pracitcally have your head for it if she knew!
An echoing howl alarms you and you bunch up your skirt, ready to move, abandoning the stolen water jug as your feet hits the ground once again. Whatever beast chasing you maybe quick, but not as swift as you. Plus, you’ve brought your stiletto daggers just in case.
Perks of being a royalty.
“Careful, Princess”, a shadow swings from the air, coming to land behind you.
A smile pulls across your lips as you lower your weapon, blush rising to your cheeks. You’d know that voice in your sleep; the voice that never failed to make your heart flutter.
He’s dressed in festive clothes today -a crisp red tunic and blue dhoti- and comes to stand before you, removing his decorative face mask. His radiant smile rivals a thousand stars; bright and energetic as if to illuminate the entire world. You’d even believe if he was the reason summers are hot.
“Meri jaan-“
“You’re under arrest!”, you announce and the next moment Pavitr becomes alert, raising his hands up in surrender. A hint of confusion dance in his cautious eyes, his confidence wavering. No.. you wouldn’t betray him like that..
You keep him at the edge of your dagger till you can contain it no longer. “For having amazing hair!”, you burst out laughing.
When realization dawns, he finally breathes a sigh of relief, shaking his head with a smile. How can Pavitr forget you’re the Queen of Pranks?
“Oh God, the look on your face!”, you say, pinching his cheeks as he playfully slaps your hands away.
He knows you won’t do that to him; In fact, you’d be the first to defend him.
Pavitr simply points to the notice pinned on the trees asking for The Spider’s identity in return for a thousand silver coins.
“Not even gold!”, he jokes, crossing his arms, “The King really is a miser.”
It was put up yesterday; not a good sign. You planned on doing something about it once you got back to the palace. Until then..
“Pavi..”, you drag sweetly, rubbing the sides of his arms in a soothing motion, “You promised me something yesterday. Remember?”
Pavitr’s face falls a little as he stutters, trying to deflect. “I, uh, the weather is too hot today, isn’t it?”
“No.” You huff and cross your arms, pulling away from him to sit by yourself on a log, pouting as you refuse to meet his face.
“Meri jaan”, he begs in vain, “please understand, it would not be safe. Plus, you may not like it there. The town is dirty and smelly; especially too crowded today-“
“You said you’d take me to the fair! And I won’t talk to you until you do.”
The Queen used to lecture you that stubbornness is unbecoming of a Princess and would take you nowhere but they seem to work on Pavitr just fine. He sighs, shoulders sagging as he eventually caves in, shaking his head in playful exasperation.
“Has Your Highness tasted a panipuri before?”
Your grin is wide as you take his extended hand.
______
Squeals echo through the forest as he swings you through bridal style, his grip on your waist never faltering.
Hitting the ground at the edge of the thick woods, you’re quick to grab his hand and pull him towards the brightly lit festive town, skipping all the way uncaring of the dirt brushing against the hem of your once pristine dress. Mother would scold, but you know it’ll be worth it.
The fair Is as crowded as he rightly warned, but not much as you were accustomed to. The royal balls were even more populated, with desperate snobs trying to impress the upper class. This is way better compared to that.
The first thing to hit you is the festive ambience.
“FORTUNE! FORTUNE CALLS!'', a man yells. "IS THERE A BIG FORTUNE IN YOUR FUTURE? THE SEER ANSWERS, FOR ONLY THREE COINS!”
You eagerly drag Pavitr to the tiny stall -despite his protests that they are fake- and pay them a bronze, showing the old fortuneteller your palm.
“Oh! This is a royal hand!”, the elderly woman cries. You freeze in shock, sweating bullets. Have you been found out? It doesn’t help that the local guards are roaming the fair either.
Pavitr squeezes your other hand in reassurance, saying it’s just a metaphor for a readable palm -and, that they say this to those who seem to carry a heavy pocket. You snort quietly.
“Your bloodline will be filled with fortune-“, she says in an exaggerated voice, “-and a handsome Knight in a shining mask will come to your rescue!” She leans down to your ear in a stage whisper, “why, I bet, ‘tis the very lad you’re with!”
Your cheeks instantly go pink and you shyly raise your eyes to meet Pavitr’s from under your lashes. He rubs his nape, blushing. “N-no.."
“Nuh-uh, don’t you dare lie to me, hero!”, the lady says and Pavitr goes red in the face. He drags you away, uncaring as to how many coins he pays her in haste just to leave the place quickly.
You laugh at his embarrassed face and pull him towards a face-painting stall.
He reluctantly agrees, instantly regretting it when the artist smears a fat blob of red across his features.
Pavitr gets the shock of his life when the artist hands him a mirror to see the outcome and lo, what does he see? His own alter-ego staring back at him with equal surprise. He is The Spider.
“Meri jaan!”, he whispers in alarm, tugging at your silk blouse, “people might find out!”
“No, they won’t”, you say, hooking your arm around his elbow as you walk him to a food stall. “Not today, atleast. Look!”
Indeed, all the children and young boys in the stall are waiting to be painted as The Spider. It puts a humble smile on Pavitr, a real, genuine one and he looks at you with eyes overflowing of love. Tears of awe gather in the corner of his orbs, which he blinks away rapidly; his love for you is beyond words.
A horn Is suddenly blown, signaling the time for the special event -everyone’s favorite part of the fair. You look around in confusion as people run hither tither, Pavitr leading you as you try to decipher what’s going on. Curious, you rise to stand on your tippy toes and peek over his shoulder.
Without warning, a handful of color powder is thrown on your face!
What the- Oh. They’re powdered dyes!
You giggle in understanding, finally catching up. Rushing to a nearby stall, you buy a pocket of green, yellow and orange liquid dyes while Pavitr buys blue, red and white -his signature colours- and aims them at you like a canon.
You mirror his stance. “It’s on, Spider!”
“Do your best, Princess”
SPLISH! SPLASH! SLPOTCH!
You’re the first to drench Pavitr in green, his face-paint mixing with the dye into a dirty brown. Squealing, you run as he chases after you with blue while all the colours of the rainbow fly over your head, thrown around by other people.
By the end of it, everybody is wet and unrecognizable yet ultimately happy. You share a laugh before everyone goes back to exploring the fair, preferring to enjoy the evening rather quietly.
After cleaning yourself up, Pavitr walks you around the fair buying you panipuri as promised, all the while holding your hand. You enjoy his arm around your waist, a comfortable weight as you press yourself closer to him.
Pavitr introduces you to his family -Maya auntie and Uncle Bhim- who greet you excitedly. His friends join and a bunch of cute little munchkins come up to you asking for a story.
“Do you know the story of the Princess and the Spider? Once there was a Princess, who lived in a big, big castle. But she was very lonely and had no friends. One day, while walking through her garden, she found a spider tangled in his own webs..”
Behind you, Pavitr leans against a tree smiling to himself, listening to you narrate the story of how you met. He patiently waits for you finish, watching you transfixed.
You guys share a shy smile after you’re done, cheeks tinting pink as you grab his hand. Pavitr excuses yourself, blushing furiously when Maya auntie sends him a knowing wink and tells him to “go enjoy his youth!”
They know he wants to have you all for himself.
_______
Lights are put up everywhere, the fair itself descending into a warm orangey glow. The evening turns invitingly chilly and you stop for a drink, fingers staying intertwined when a particularly colourful stall catches his eye.
You find yourself seated on a private boat as Pavitr rows, other couples rowing quietly past you. It slowly comes to a stop at the middle of the lake and you hold hands, lifting your head up to witness the sun disappear into the quietness of the young starry night together.
His thumbs rub soothing circles on the back of your hand. Water lanterns float around your boat, let onto the surface of the lake by those gathered, engulfing the water body in a soft dreamy glow.
So romantic.
Pavitr takes your hand in his and places a water lantern in your palms, the light illuminating your features. His eyes shine as they give you a once over, stunned by the angel before him.
And, in that moment, you couldn’t help yourself.
Pushing a strand of curly hair away from his face, you lean in. He watches with baited breath, frozen with pleasant surprise as your soft lips touch his in a firm kiss.
Your eyes flutter shut as you let the overwhelming feeling consume you, the world around you stops moving and time becomes insubstantial; the only thing you know, feel and breathe is each other.
Is this love or rebirth, you can’t tell. You’ve never felt so alive.
When you finally open your eyes, a thousand decades have passed. The world is brighter and lively, more colorful. You gasp as his lips chase yours, not willing to part so soon even though you’re out of breath.
Blood rushes to your cheeks when it dawns on you that this is both of yours’ first kiss! You chuckle, seeing his face heat up just like yours. Flustered, you let your head fall to rest against his palpitating heart. Oh, the woes of youth!
Pavitr cups your hand and gently lowers the water lantern onto the surface of the lake, making it stay afloat.
Very belatedly you realize that the Queen, aka your mother, asked you be home by sunset. You’re here past your curfew! The royal dinner would’ve been over by now -the one you haven’t shown up to.
He rows you quickly back to the shore, but not before splashing some water on your face in jest. Pavitr and you giggle as he swings you bridal style to the palace, landing on your balcony just in time.
“Meri jaan..”, he stops you, presenting a rose, “this is for you.”
Your heart melts.
(He plucked that from your garden but nevermind; it’s the sentiment that matters.)
The gifts you receive as a Princess may be worth the world, but his sentiment is priceless. And that’s what truly commandeers your heart.
You give his cheek a goodbye kiss when the door is being brutally knocked upon, your maidens yelling on the other side that your mother is frantically searching for you. By the time the Queen opens your chamber door, Pavitr has thankfully disappeared.
“Good grief, Y/N dear!”, she cries, clutching her worried heart, “why did you not come for dinner? And, why are you so dirty!?”
The look she gives your dress is enough to make you cringe internally.
You shrug, feigning innocence. “I was just… painting, mother. Forgive me, I must’ve been enjoying it too much to notice the passage of time.”
The Queen shakes her head in exasperation and orders you to clean up, offering to send supper to your rooms instead. You glance out of your balcony as she fusses for new clothes in your wardrobe, looking back to the single red rose in the water jar.
Masked white eyes glimer under the moonlight, a giddy smile spreading across your face as you find them hidden amongst the darkness of your garden trees. He may have vanished from your sight, but he stays in your heart forever.
Your web-slinging Knight in shining eye-mask.
______
Hope you liked it <333
#pavitr prabhakar x reader#pavitrx reader#pavitr prabhakar x female reader#pavitr x fem!reader#pavitr x reader#pavitr x gn reader#pavitr x male reader#pavitr prabhakar x fem reader#pavitr prabhakar x you#pavitr x you#pavitr x y/n#pavitr prabhakar x y/n#astv#Spider-Man#sony#pavitr prabhakar x gn!reader#pavitr x gn!reader#pavitr x gender neutral reader
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Merry christmas!! Have a joyful holiday!! For the event, can I request lee thoma with ler itto? The sentence starter is up to youu hihi
{Bun’s Festive Fics Event❄️- closed}
A/N: gosh i didn’t even realise i hadn’t posted this, my upmost apologies hun! but i hope you enjoy this - bunny 🔮
“Was that a snort?”
Thoma shook his head furiously, but couldn’t verbally answer, due to the humiliating noises that were constantly leaving his mouth. Itto just laughed heartily, watching his childhood friend giggle his head off. It was only meant to be a small catch up between the two; they had met up in a cherry blossom tree field and quickly got to talking about life had been since they last met. Of course, the topic of their childhood had come up and they began reminiscing on how they used to play as kids.
“Hey remember when we were younger and you used to be so anxious all the time. Man, i used to tickle all of those nerves outta ya!” Itto had jokingly reminded, and the comment made Thoma’s face light up.
“W-Well, I wouldn’t quite put it like that-“
“Are you kidding? You used to cackle just from a few pokes to the side! Hey, are you still ticklish? Can I see!” Before Thoma could protest, Itto was already clambering towards him and sitting comfortably on his thighs. Thoma was terrified.
“I-Itto this isn’t necessary- I can assure you I’m not t-tick- sensitive anymore.” The blond stuttered out. The Oni just scoffed playfully.
“Well we can always try, can’t we?”
And his hands descended quickly. Itto wasn’t a trained tickler of sorts, but he was agile, his hands moved sporadically all over the shorter’s torso, focusing on squeezing up and down his sensitive sides. Thoma flinched harshly, immediately attempting to hold back his laughter by pursing his lips and weakly slapping Itto’s hands away.
“Oh, cmon Thoma, you’re not hiding your laugh, are you?” Itto teased, drilling his fingers in the boy’s lower ribs that had him arching his back.
“I-I t-tohold you I’m- mhmhm I-I’m not tihicklish” He struggled to get out. Suppressing the giggles was harder than Thoma thought, and he was just hoping if he could hold out long enough, maybe, just maybe, Itto would give up. But of course, he’s not that lucky is he.
“Hey, Thoma, is your tummy still ticklish?”
“Wha- no nohohohoho gohohod dahahamn it! ihihihihitto stahahap!”
“And we have lift off!” Itto cheered, using his long nails to lightly drag up and down Thoma’s tummy. The light tickles were absolutely unbearable, it had the boy thrashing his head like crazy, his hair becoming disheveled instantly. Itto was grinning like the cheshire cat.
“Now what’s all this, huh Thoma? I thought you said you weren’t ticklish anymore. This looks like it tickles pretty bad to me!” He said with a teasing lilt to his voice that made Thoma want the ground to swallow him up. God, how could he let this happen.
“Dohohohon’t- plehehease ihihihitto-“
“Please what? Please amp up the tickling? You got it, bro!”
“NO! nohohohoNOHOHO DON’T- NOHOHOHOT THEHEHERE!” Thoma suddenly cried out. Itto had began to vigorously vibrate his fingers at the sides of the blond’s tummy, the change in tactics sending shock waves around his entire body. Thoma screamed, screeched and snorted through endless amounts of laughter.
“Was that a snort?”
The blond shook his head furiously, but couldn’t verbally answer, due to the humiliating noises that were constantly leaving his mouth. Itto just laughed heartily, watching his childhood friend giggle his head off.
“IHIHITTO PLEHEHEASE I CAHAHAHANT! MY STOMAHAHACHE OHOHO ARCHONS!” Thoma cried, and with one final squeeze, the Oni brought his hands away from the poor boys quivering tummy. Almost as quickly as it started, but not quick enough for Thoma, who was currently lying limp on the floor, panting for the oxygen he had been momentarily deprived of.
“Man, you sure know how to laugh, Thoma, it’s good to hear it after all this time!” Itto cooed, patting the shorter’s shoulder. The other just took the taunting on the chin, because he knew that even he needed a break like this.
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Big thanks at @onewingedsparrow for the cute art! I’ll share it here as soon as she’s posted it! (Or peek at my Ao3)
Close enough
Zelda blinked, fighting the sudden heaviness of her eyelids. She stood in front of a big, wooden pyramid with ornate figures of Nayru, Farore, and Din holding each other with their hands in a dancing position. It was cute and obviously impressive craftsmanship, but the problem was that the figures circled and circled thanks to a propeller construction running by the heat of candles and that… lulled her to sleep. Focus, you’re the Queen. Queens don’t doze off while someone is talking. If only the mayor of this village hadn’t such a monotone voice... What was his name? Globo? No. Rakus? Hm. Maybe? By the Three Goddesses, she didn’t even remember the name of his village! They were in the Snow Peak region, but the details… the row of small towns and villages on their journey had been too much to take in. Maybe Link could help? She crouched, pretending to inspect a carved pine tree, and shot him a quick look. Oh, oops, he already forced his smile, too.
She suppressed a sigh. It was a long-cherished tradition that the new Queen visited every settlement of her Kingdom at the beginning of her reign and in theory, Zelda loved the idea very much. She had been eager to learn about the regions, to inspect if the shadows of the twilight had left damage she needed to fix. But they were nearly at the end of her journey and… everything blurred together like a snowman in the sun.
Link cleared his throat into his gloved fist, his face schooled into a very serious expression that he deemed worthy of representing the kingdom. It was adorable. “Thank you so much for your detailed explanations, Sir.”
Sir? Aha, Link didn’t know the mayor’s name either. Zelda discreetly turned her head aside, covering her chuckle with a cough. Link's sharp eyes flew to her; she might fool the mayor, but not her Hero. Link continued, his gaze never leaving hers. "Her Majesty would appreciate some time to explore the lovely booths here at the festival. I'm sure the local merchants would be honored to offer their goods to their Queen."
Wistfully, Zelda broke eye contact and let her gaze travel over all the tiny huts, their roofs adorned with icicles and their tables laden with dried fruits, all kinds of sweets, and small wooden trinkets. Of course, Link had caught her sneaking glances at the festival over the course of the day.
"Oh, that is an excellent idea," the mayor hurried to say, not even bothering to put conviction behind his words. "I shall acquire the village patrol to ensure your safety, Your Majesty, and then I’ll be right back to introduce Her Majesty to the vendor families."
"That won't be necessary." Link's tone was final. He was used to officials sizing him up with a scrutinizing gaze; one mayor more wouldn't shake his confidence as her appointed knight. "Her Majesty would appreciate it if you instead overlook the preparations for dinner personally, Sir."
The mayor lingered, his eyes resembling slits. "It will be my pleasure, Sir." Eventually, he gave up, bowed, and vanished back into the building that was a mixture of town hall and tavern.
"Finally," Link breathed. "One more word and I would have needed to sweep you up in my arms and carry you to the inn, sleepy head."
"Excuse me? You're the one who doesn't even remember the mayor's name!"
Grinning, Link guided her with his hand on the small of her back toward the festival lights who competed against the washed-out winter sun. "What is his name, Your all-knowing Majesty?"
Zelda turned her head over her shoulder and looked him dead in the eyes. "Blahblah."
Link pressed his lips together, but the sound of his laughter still burst out. "Ah. Blahblah, the mayor of chit-chat?"
"You name it." Zelda giggled. "But now let's use the little time we have. I want to try the fruits."
"As my Queen commands."
"Stop that, you know I don't want you to use my titles."
Link exchanged some rupees with one of the fruit vendors and flashed her a grin. "But it makes me feel important. Look at me, a country bumpkin making it up all the way to the Queen's appointed knight." He held a grape in front of her, withdrawing it from her mouth at the last second and popping it into his own.
"Still working on table manners, I see, Sir knight." Zelda snatched his wrist and stole the next grape from his fingers with her teeth, looking at him innocently through her lashes.
His mouth fell into a silent "Oh!" and the tips of his pointed ears went red like the grape that had just disappeared in her mouth. Zelda giggled, he truly had no idea how cute he was when she made him blush. "Let's try something else!"
"Yeah," he said, voice a little hoarse. "Let's."
They went to the booth with tiny toys carved of wood next. Little dolls painted with great care piled up in too small baskets, smooth dice invited gamblers to buy their own set, and all kinds of carved farm animals in miniature size waited for tiny hands to be played with. Zelda couldn’t get enough of looking at all the things, every piece a little wonder on its own. With a playful wink, Link finally nudged her side and she made the vendor pack a little basket full of figurines for the children living in the castle.
Dutifully, Link carried it for her and they continued their way a few steps behind the people crowding in front of the booths. "You know," he started and lifted the basket. "I don't think we'll make it back in time to give it to them for the festivities. I've lost track of our schedule, but I overheard some vendors say that today is the last day of the festival since tomorrow is Nayru's Eve."
"Oh, so much time has passed already? That's unfortunate, now I'm keeping you from going back to Ordon for the holidays." She halted and pulled him out of the way of a couple of teens rushing through the crowd. "Maybe if we skip the dinner and push the horses a bit, you could make it at least to Din's Day?"
Link, slightly alarmed by the teens he had missed, scanned the people, keeping a keen eye out for potential troubleshooters. Then, he returned his gaze to her. "Don't worry about that. I'm a child of the village, I'm used to spending the holidays getting passed around. But what about you? Isn't there something you have to do at the castle during the festivities?" He ruffled the hair at his neck. "I really should have asked this sooner, huh?"
Zelda smiled and put a calming hand on his forearm. "It's fine. There are some minor prayers in the cathedral that I'm in charge of, but the priestesses can do them as well. I don't mind being away from the castle. It has never been the same for me since the invasion. It was… a difficult time all around." She raised her gaze to him and trailed her hand down his winter coat. "It's a lot better since you are there, though. You have a way to warm the heart, you know that?"
His eyes widened and darted away, over the heads of the crowd, his ears going red once again. "Uh…” He stammered. “What about the shooting gallery?"
Zelda used the opportunity that he didn't look at her to smile at her heart's content. He was so shy when it came to compliments, or, heaven forbid, flirting. "The shooting gallery? Sure, why not? Is it arrows or sling-shot? If it's arrows, we can compete."
Standing on his tiptoes, he said, "Not sure, too many people in front of it."
He was right. More and more people poured onto the fairground and it became difficult to see the booths or what they sold.
"Is it still safe?" she asked. "We can leave and take a walk where it's less crowded."
"I would…" Sighing, he rubbed his forehead. "I would be more comfortable with that, yeah. Sorry to ruin the fun, but I can't keep an eye on everyone and especially short range weapons like daggers are a problem in crowds—"
"Link." Zelda tugged his sleeve, already taking a step toward the wooden arc that marked the exit. "It's fine. I know the risks. I don't mind."
"Okay, good. I'm still sorry, I know you don't have many opportunities to enjoy festivals."
She hummed her response, expecting him to take her arm or her wrist so that they didn't get separated like he usually did, but he felt around for her hand and curled his fingers around hers. And now of all times, she could hardly see his face. Her breath stuttered, and this time her ears burned. This was new.
He still didn't look at her, using the excuse of guarding her to his advantage. They threaded through the crowd, catching a shoulder bump here and misplaced step there, but all in all, they made it safely out of the market.
Outside, Zelda nodded toward a small forest that glittered frosty in the setting sun. Nothing and nobody would bring her to let go of his hand if he didn't move first. And Link? His ears were bright red, the color even spreading over his throat, and his eyes were still determined to look everywhere but at her. Was it her comment that he warmed her heart that finally let him make a move?
The snow, more and more untouched the closer they came to the forest, crunched under their steps and neither of them said a word. Their hands hadn't taken up the natural rhythm of their steps yet; they stayed carefully put between them. Link's courage seemed to be used up.
"You know what the only tradition from the castle is that I miss?" She forced herself to speak, heart beating fast and loud enough for everyone in the over-snowed forest to hear.
He shook his head.
"The mistletoes. The servants hang them up everywhere in the castle and if you happen to meet under one, you have to kiss."
That finally broke the spell. His forehead twitched amused and his lips curled upwards. "You don't seem to me like someone who enjoys kissing random people."
"No," she said and laughed, going slower and slower until they stopped. "I don't. I was rather hoping for a kiss from a certain someone."
"Oh? Who might that be?" Blue eyes rested heavily on her and she used the moment to shift her hand and interlace their fingers. He didn't pull back. Okay, okay, good, now…
"We'll never find out, I guess," she said, her too-high voice making her cringe. Wait, what was she doing? Spirits, she was so stupid!
Link slacked, his hand going nearly limp in hers. "No, I guess we won't." His voice grew quiet towards the end of the sentence and he pulled his hand back.
"No, wait!" Zelda snatched his wrist, yanking him closer so that he nearly stumbled against her. "I've, there is…" Her free hand pointed at the crown of the tree hanging over their heads and stupefied, his gaze followed her gesture. "Did you know that, um, ivy is closely related to, um, mistletoes?"
His eyes dropped back to hers. "What?"
"Um, yes, I learned it from my tutors, both grow on trees and—"
A gloved hand cupped her cheek and the rest of her sentence evaded her. He waited, reading her eyes like an open book.
"A certain someone, yes?" He whispered when she didn't continue, threading his fingers into her hair and pulling her closer to him. Their thick winter clothes hindered them from touching properly, so she wrapped her arms around his neck, requiting the intensity of his eyes.
"You," she breathed, determined not to say something stupid again. "It's you, Link. Has been you for a while."
His eyes crinkled. "Well, we can't change that we're so far away from the castle, but at least we can keep some of the traditions up, right?"
She managed a hint of a 'Yes' and closed her eyes, her breath trembling against his skin.
His lips were as warm as his heart. He moved them against hers, slowly, nearly a bit shyly. She couldn't help but tighten her arms, just a fraction, and pull him closer, parting her lips shakily. She had waited for so long to kiss him!
He followed her lead, tentatively answering her pleading, even raising his second hand to graze her chin line, but eventually, he pulled back.
Had she… gone too far? No. He smiled. And a cheeky smile on top of that. His hand that had just left tingling warmth on her skin reached for something just behind her. Plop! The tree rustled and snowflakes drizzled on their heads.
“Here,” he said, threading a big leaf of ivy into the stitches on his hat. “Now you have permission to kiss me whenever you feel like it.”
“I will take full advantage of this, I hope you know that.” Zelda giggled, touched the leathery leaf with her fingertips, and bumped her forehead against his.
“I hope so.” He nudged his cold nose against hers. “Just… don’t tell our little secret about ivy and mistletoes to anyone else. I’m not interested in kissing random people either. It’s been you for me for a while now, too.”
“Promised.”
And then, they kissed again, because what better way is there to keep their lips sealed?
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I’m pretty sure this is so late it’s not even Xmas day for anyone on the planet. But it’s still the festive season and this fic is more going for that vibe than specifically Xmas.
Zaun Family holiday fic (but the more general Zaun Family verse not the specific one). Hope you all have a wonderful end of year however you personally celebrate that.
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“So when are we putting the tree up?” Mylo asks sitting on the foot of the bed that Silco is recovering in. The kids all needing the time with Silco to reassure them that they aren’t going to lose him.
If Vander’s being honest he and Silco need it too. Spending time as a family again even if Silco is on bedrest, half his face covered in bandages laced in the doctor’s glowing ‘medicine’ to try and fight off the encroaching infection thanks to the waters of the Pilt getting into Silco’s blood and split eye.
“I already told you, we won’t be putting the tree up this year.” What with Silco still recovering and everything else they needed to organise for him to take his new role as representing Zaun in Piltover. Setting up a tree in the Last Drop just didn’t feel worth the effort. The patrons would understand and if they didn’t Vander couldn’t give a shit about their opinions. All things he had explained to the kids the other five times they had asked.
And yet, like those five other times he is met with a chorus of protests.
“We can’t not have a tree up. Where will our presents be!?” Powder says, sitting up suddenly from where she had immediately cuddled into Silco’s side as soon as she was allowed in the room.
“Powder careful,” Vander says because, as much as Silco tried to hide it, Vander caught the pained gasp his husband had made.
“I’m alright,” Silco assures when Powder immediately turns around to check on him. “And of course we will have a tree for your presents to be under.”
“Sil-“ The kids can go one year without it. They’ll still get their presents – more than a lot of kids in Zaun will be getting.
“Vander will go get one and you can all decorate it,” Silco continues, ignoring Vander’s attempted interruption.
“You’ll help right?” Claggor asks.
“That is probably above my current capabilities, but I can come up while you do it.”
“You’re supposed to be staying in bed.” The man who had saved Silco’s life had been very clear that if Silco didn’t rest his condition would deteriorate again. Vander can’t almost lose his husband again.
“It’s just upstairs. A booth isn’t that different to a bed,” Silco says, running a hand through Powder’s hair, watching Vander closely with his uncovered eye. “Go get a tree Vander.”
“Oh! Can Ekko join?” Powder asks before Vander has a chance to argue against the idea and how it isn’t worth risking Silco’s health for.
“Of course. Vander will go get Benzo to help get the tree and Ekko can come join,” Silco says, looking down at their youngest before meeting Vander’s eyes. “It has been a stressful year for us all. We should celebrate that we made it through.”
“Vander, go get a tree,” Silco repeats when Vander doesn’t move fast enough for his liking.
Vander knows there isn’t any convincing his husband off this plan. Once Silco’s made up his mind about something like he has there is no budging him no matter how Vander tries. His only option to try and mitigate what he can.
“How about I carry you up before I go?” Better that than Silco overstrain himself or trip as a result of his changed eyesight.
Silco stares at him defiantly but Vander just meets his gaze. If Silco wants this so bad he can accept the compromise.
“Any excuse to have me in your arms,” Silco says finally, breaking his gaze from Vander, as close of a surrender he will give.
The kids give a mixture of laughter and dramatic gags at it.
“Of course,” Vander says, coming over to the bed. Powder scrambling out of his way. “You know I want to hold you.”
Silco snorts at it but reaches up to wrap his arms around Vander’s neck as Vander reaches down to pick him up. Trying to be gentle as he settles his husband in his arms. Trying not to think about how Silco feels thinner than he normally does. Tucking his head into Vander’s neck, the fabric of his bandages rubbing against Vander’s skin as he does.
Vander nearly lost him and he wants to take a moment to remind himself that his husband is still here. Silco safe in his arms where he can protect him from those who hate the new deal with Piltover and want them dead for their part in it.
The kids have already racing up the stairs. Vander doesn’t give it long before they impatiently come and demand he hurry up – wanting the tree Silco promised them.
He’s mindful of Silco in his arms – climbing the stairs carefully and making sure he doesn’t bump his husband into anything on the way to the booth. Letting Silco brace himself on the backrest and table before putting him down.
Even with his care Silco gives a hiss as he settles into the booth. Adjusting the pillows the kids offer to him to prop himself up.
“Go get the tree now,” Mylo demands as soon as Silco’s sitting.
“Do you need anything else before I go love?” Vander asks Silco because he needs to know he’s okay before he’s going to leave.
“Nothing the kids can’t get for me.”
“We’ll take good care of him,” Vi promises, with the other three nodding around her.
There’s no point stalling any longer, he’ll only be met with frustration from them all. Vander still gives Silco a kiss before he leaves, gently cupping his husband’s face, his husband’s unbandaged half softening at it.
Benzo doesn’t look surprised at Vander arriving at his shop. His expressions shifts to it when Vander tells him why.
“Thought you weren’t doing that this year?”
“I got outvoted.”
“More like put in your place,” Benzo says as he starts shutting up the shop. “Can Ekko join too?”
“’course. Powder’d probably be disappointed if you showed up without him.” She’s always preferred hanging out with Ekko more than her siblings and doesn’t even try and hide that fact.
The boy in question scurries down from somewhere in the shelves at it. Clearly having been listening in.
“Go ahead while we get the tree,” Benzo says. It’s not that Ekko wouldn’t try and help them but it’s the kind of job that’s easier done without a kid underfoot. “But remember Silco’s still recovering. No getting into trouble with the others while you wait.”
“We won’t,” Ekko promises before hurrying off to the Drop.
“Always listening that one,” Benzo says once the boy should be out of earshot. “Gotta’ watch what I say sometimes. How is Silco?”
“Recovering.” Thankfully.
“You shouldn’t be surprised. He’s too stubborn to die, especially now he’s got a new group of people to go be a pain in the ass of,” Benzo says as they start heading towards the docks. “Is he joining us or is he still stuck in bed?”
“He’ll be supervising from one of the booths.”
“I’m sure. Right where he’s able to tell us how we’re doing it wrong then.”
“He just wants to feel like he’s in control of something.” The year had been a tough one for them all. Even Piltover’s olive branch didn’t feel like the win it actually was, just more work for them to find the time for. And it definitively wasn’t close to what Silco actually wanted from the Topsiders.
“Good to know even a near death experience can’t change him,” Benzo jokes because Silco had always liked knowing how all the things they were involved in were going. If Vander had to guess his husband probably knows Benzo’s shop’s books better than Benzo himself did.
They mostly talk about business for the rest of the trip to buy one of the trees the ships bring in this time of year. Most are destined for Piltover but Zaun money is just as good to the sailors, especially when it comes from the owner of the bar they frequent while in port. Dragging it back to the Last Drop was a pain but at least most got out of their way as they passed.
The kids had clearly worked themselves up in their excitement. All five of them impatient at the door as Vander and Benzo drag the tree in. Practically dragging them over to the spot it usually goes – tables hastily shoved out of the way to ensure there is enough room.
Vander looks over to the booth he had settled Silco into. Making sure his husband is still there and unharmed.
Silco meets his gaze for a moment. No extra pain in his eye from what had been his current state since he returned him.
“Remember to secure it down properly,” Silco says, breaking Vander’s gaze to survey the situation. “I don’t want to pay for anything it breaks if it falls down.”
“We’ll do it the same way we have every other year,” Benzo says because it has never fallen over in the past.
Silco makes an unhappy sound at it but thankfully drops it. Letting them get the tree up and secure before being shooed away by the excited kids so they can decorate it with anything shiny they could get their hands on.
“How you feeling?” Vander asks Silco, coming to his husband’s side to check on him.
“Same as I would if I was still lying in bed,” Silco says, watching as the kids all flock around the tree to decorate it. Hard to tell if they are working together or in competition as they shove and help each other.
“Do you need me to get you anything?”
“I’m fine Vander,” Silco says, his glare still harsh even with only one eye.
“You look better than I thought you would,” Benzo says, wondering over to join them. “Vander made it sound like you nearly died.”
“I did. And it will still more than likely take me eventually,” Silco says with a gesture to the bandages covering the damaged infected skin the Pilt-water left him with. “This is just to get me as much time as possible.”
“Right,” Benzo says, clearly uncomfortable with the idea that Silco now has a time bomb in his head. “At least it hasn’t taken you yet. Vander’d be lost without you bossing him around.
Silco gives a small laugh at it, watching the kids as Powder sits on her sister’s shoulders to reach the top part of the tree.
“He’s not the only one who needs me alive for a while yet.”
#Zaun Family#Vanco#Vander Arcane#Silco Arcane#Benzo Arcane#Jinx Arcane#Ekko Arcane#Violet Arcane#Claggor Arcane#Mylo Arcane#I accidently a ficlet
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You Are My Sunshine Chapter 3
Hmm… let’s see…” Sunshine muttered to herself, tapping the eraser of her pencil against her chin. She just needed one more word to finish this crossword puzzle.
As she pondered over the final answer, her best friend suddenly popped out from behind the tree she was sitting under. “Wassup, Sunny,” shouted Tiny Diamond, tugging on her arm, “C'mon, let’s go have some fun!”
“Not now, Tiny,” she replied, nudging him away, “I need to find a five-letter word that means ‘to disturb or bother.’”
“C'mon,” Tiny pouted, “you’ve had your nose buried in that thing for over an hour. You gotta make time today to sing, and dance, and hug…”
“Tiny…”
“And dance and hug and sing…”
“Tiny…”
“And hug and sing and dance…”
“Tiny!”
Tiny recoiled at Sunshine’s sudden exclamation. “Tiny, you know that you’re my best friend and that I love you,” she said, “but you are really starting to annoy me!”
Suddenly, she gasped in realization. “That’s it!” Returning to her puzzle, she filled the empty squares in with the word “annoy.” It was a perfect fit! “Thanks, Tiny.” Standing up and looking down at him, she added, “you’re the best.”
It was funny; despite being ten years old now, Tiny Diamond was just barely up to Sunny’s knee. He certainly lived up to his name. “Thank you?” he said, slightly confused, but happy that she was finally ready to play with him.
As the two made their way to the Misty Meadows, each troll they passed by made sure to wish Sunshine a happy birthday.
“Hey, hey, is that the birthday troll I see,” asked Prince D.
“Yep,” Sunshine replied, giggling, “that’s me.”
“So, Sunny,” Cooper began, “you lookin’ forward to your surprise party tonight?”
D and Tiny both looked at him aghast after he let this secret slip. “Um, would it make everyone feel better if I pretended not to hear that?”
“Yes, please,” D said, glaring daggers at his brother. As the two Funk Trolls walked away, Sunshine could hear D muttering the definition of “surprise” to Cooper.
Despite the surprise being ruined, Sunshine was still very excited and flattered. No one had ever thrown a surprise party for her before. She assumed Poppy had considered her tenth birthday enough of a milestone to deserve one.
“Well, I guess now I can’t ask you to close your eyes and follow my voice,” said Tiny, slouching in disappointment.
“Don’t worry,” Sunshine giggled, “I can still pretend to be surprised.”
…
After a long, fun-filled afternoon of dancing, singing, hugging, and rapping, it was time for celebration. Sunshine noticed some bushes near the meadow rustling, and she could hear a few faint voices muttering to each other.
“You know, there’s plenty of room where some of you can scoot over.”
“Ooh, I can’t wait to see the look on her face.”
“Shh, I think I see her coming.”
Trying to hide her excitement, Sunshine parted the foliage to find the source of the voices. “Hello?”
Suddenly, a cacophony of noisemakers, air horns, and shouts of “SURPRISE” rang out.
It was unbelievable. Everyone in TrollsTopia appeared to have shown up. There were balloons and streamers on the ground and tangled in the trees, and a banner that read “Happy 10th Birthday, Sunshine!” in pink glittery letters was hanging overhead, being held up by two Classical trolls.
“Wow,” Sunshine gasped, amazed at how much effort was put into this, “a surprise party for me?”
“Well, I don’t know,” Branch said, jokingly looking around, “Anybody else have a birthday today?”
Everyone shook their heads, but one responded with a soft “mew.”
“Very funny, Mr. Dinkles,” Biggie scolded, “that was last month.”
“Welp,” Branch continued, “Looks like it’s all yours, Sunny.”
“Do you like it,” Poppy asked, “I can’t tell if those are happy tears.”
Sunshine hadn’t realized she was tearing up until then. She sniffled and wiped them away, looking around at the festivities in front of her. Without a word, she ran into Poppy’s arms, laughing as they hugged each other. “Thanks, Poppy,” she said, “you always throw the best parties.”
“Hey, I helped, too,” Branch said, joining their hug.
Looking over Poppy’s shoulder, Sunshine noticed a gigantic pile of gifts, stacked almost as high as the party space was wide. “Are all of those gifts for me,” she asked, shocked.
“Again,” Branch joked, “does someone else have a birthday today that we didn’t know about?”
Poppy giggled as her and Sunshine approached the gifts. “Everyone in TrollsTopia got you something.”
“You sure this isn’t overkill,” Sunshine remarked. Not that she wasn’t grateful, but Poppy did tend to go overboard when it came to birthday parties.
“Oh, that’s nothing,” Poppy said, “wait until you see your cake.”
That alone made Sunshine nervous, but seeing the cake for herself didn’t do much to alleviate that nervousness. How she hadn’t seen it when she first arrived was beyond her; the first layer alone was twice her size, and the entire thing was so tall she could just barely see where it ended.
“That’s a pretty big cake,” she said, Poppy looking at her expectantly. “Yep,” Poppy replied, “One layer for each year you’ve existed, chock full of berries, buttercream, and love!”
“Smidge and I call it ‘The Leaning Tower of Diabetes,’” Branch muttered, making Sunshine snicker.
“Hey, isn’t this supposed to be a party,” they heard Tiny shout from atop his dad’s shoulder. “Then lets get it started Troll-style! Turn that music up, DJ!”
DJ Suki cranked up the volume, and now the party was in full swing as Sunshine began singing along.
Right, right, turn off the lights
We’re gonna lose our minds tonight
What’s the dealio
I love all the trolls so much
Classic, Techno, Country and Funk
Pop and Rock and Roll
Val shredded a few chords on her guitar.
Party like this is your last one
Time for hugging, singing, dancing
Don’t be fancy, just get dancey
Why so serious?
The Snack Pack formed a trampoline with their hair and tossed Sunshine into the air as Poppy sang the chorus.
So raise your hair and wish Sunshine a happy birthday
Let me hear you sing
There will never be, never be
Better times than these
No we will always sing and dance and hug
Won’t you come on and
Come on and
Raise your hair
Raise your hair
Sunshine harmonized along with Poppy on the last line before landing on her feet and finishing with, “For me!”
Sunshine high-fived everyone around her excitedly. “That was awesome, you guys,” she panted, slightly out of breath, “let’s do that again.”
“Let’s keep some of that energy contained for a little longer,” Branch said, “You need to save some of that air to blow out your candles.”
Sunshine looked at him in disbelief. You let Poppy put candles on that cake, she thought, quickly deciding against saying it out loud to avoid hurt feelings. There probably weren’t enough to warrant any emergency precautions if Branch was willing to let Poppy include them.
She suddenly felt someone grab her from behind, and she turned to see Legsly. “Here, let me give you a boost,” she said as she raised her up to the top of the cake, Sunshine letting an excited “Whee,” escape her lungs.
“Don’t forget to make a wish,” she heard as she reached the top. Sure enough, there were only five candles on the cake; she wondered how long it took Branch to convince Poppy not to put all ten on. Giggling at that thought, she closed her eyes, took a big breath, and blew as hard as she could.
“Whoo, she got ‘em all,” Legsly yelled as they descended back to the ground. Everyone cheered and clapped; Tiny jumped into her arms for a hug.
“So what’d you wish for, Sunny,” he asked, jumping around excitedly. “New clothes? A bicycle? A song to be written in your honor? Tell me tell me tell me!”
“Now, now, Tiny,” Guy Diamond said, picking up his son, “she can’t tell you what she wished for, otherwise it won’t come true.”
“It’s okay, Uncle Diamond,” Sunshine replied, sadly, “It never does.”
The others looked at her with concern and confusion as a wave of emotions crashed over her. It had been ten years since her egg had been swept away from her family; ten years since she had hatched all alone. Instead of looking into the eyes of her mother, her first glimpse of the world was filled with loneliness and despair. And it seemed like she was long overdue for a family reunion.
“Sunny,” Holly said, placing a hand on her shoulder, “you alright, gumdrop?”
Once again, Sunshine hadn’t realized that she had started to cry. This time, though, her tears were anything but joyful. “I-I’m sorry,” she sobbed, before running off in embarrassment.
“No, no, Sunny, don’t cry,” Poppy called after her, “not on your birthday.”
“Sunny, wait,” Branch shouted, following her. He could no longer see where she was, but he had a hunch that he knew where she was heading.
…
Branch made his way through the labyrinth of tunnels in his bunker until he finally came to Sunshine’s bedroom. While she also had her own room in Poppy’s pod, his home was usually the first place she thought to go to when she was upset.
Branch knocked softly on her slightly ajar door, opening it a little further. “Sunshine?”
He couldn’t see her, but he did see a lump under her bedcovers shift a bit. “Sunshine isn’t here,” it said, “she’s Stormcloud right now."
That was the nickname they had given to her when she was little and feeling sad. Poppy had first called her that as a joke in an attempt to help her stop crying; all that it usually took was a few hugs and one of her favorite songs and she’d be back to her old cheerful self in no time.
Branch figured it would take more than that to bring her smile back this time around.
He sat down on the edge of the bed and stroked the tuft of her hair that was sticking out from under the blanket. “We don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want to,” he said, “but I’m not leaving you here to cry alone, Sunny.”
Sunshine hesitated before slowly lifting the blanket off of her and leaning her head on Branch’s shoulder. “I’m sorry,” she sobbed, “I didn’t mean to ruin the party.”
“Oh, Sunny,” Branch said, wrapping his arms around her, “you didn’t ruin anything. I understand what you’re going through right now.” Sunny sniffled as she looked up at him in surprise.
“How,” she asked, “you don’t even know what I wished for.”
“I think I do,” he replied, looking into her eyes. “You wished for your mom, didn’t you?”
She nodded, averting her gaze.
“That’s what you wish for every year, isn’t it?”
She nodded again, sobbing as she buried her face in his chest. “It’s been so long since they lost me. I thought maybe they would have found me by now. What’s taking them so long? Do they not want me?”
Another piece of Branch’s heart broke with each word she said. He and Poppy had accepted years ago that Sunshine was going to be part of their lives indefinitely—she may as well have been their daughter—but she was still dead set on finding her birth family.
“I-I really don’t know what to tell you, sweetie,” he said, holding the crying child a little tighter, “except this: no matter what happens, I want you to know that you are not alone and you never will be. Everyone in TrollsTopia loves you very much, especially me and Poppy.”
Sunshine allowed herself to smile again as she listened to Branch’s reassurance. This is why her first instinct was always to go to his bunker. He made her feel safe and always knew the right thing to say. She almost felt bad for feeling this way; she knew that she wasn’t alone in this world, but she still wished she could spend at least one moment with her parents.
Their Hug Time bracelets went off while he held her. “Look at that,” Branch joked, “we’re ahead of schedule.” Sunshine giggled as he wiped her tears away. “Feeling better now,” he asked.
“Mm-hm,” she said, hugging him again. “Thanks, Branch.”
“Anything for you, kiddo,” he replied. “Now let’s get back to your party.”
…
The rest of the birthday party went off without a hitch. Sunny’s favorite gift she got was a hand-crafted hairpin shaped like the Sun; Satin had made it for her, while Chenille made her a necklace to match. She couldn’t bring herself to finish even one half of a piece of cake. One bite of frosting was enough to make her feel full, but she was still grateful to have so many trolls in her life that cared about her.
It made it a bit harder for her to put her plan in motion.
She woke up in the middle of the night and gathered up everything she would need, making sure to be quiet so Branch wouldn’t catch her. A few of his emergency rations, a couple of sharpened sticks for defense, and a scrapbook containing a map of Troll Kingdom were placed into a knapsack. She tore a page out of the scrapbook first, wrote out a goodbye note, and placed it on her pillow. She grabbed some of her favorite storybooks and her teddy bear and put them in the bag as well, drawing it shut as she took one last look at her bedroom, throwing a blanket over her shoulders and departing for an adventure that was years in the making.
She decided against taking the elevator out of the bunker; she was guaranteed to wake Branch if she did.
Luckily, she had been around long enough to know where all of his emergency escape tunnels were.Once she had made it outside, she breathed a sigh of relief and looked out at the home she was leaving behind.
“Goodbye, TrollsTopia,” she said softly, “I’m sorry that I have to leave like this, but…
I’ve got to go and find my mom and dad
I know they’re somewhere out there. I hope you understand
We might see each other again someday
But it’s about time
I gotta find my family”
She blew a kiss and disappeared into the night.
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Matriarch
Years later, as I read The Secret Garden by Frances Burnett, I found myself silently shrugging, feeling triumphant that the magic I had experienced in Aunt Zeinab's garden, and the secret I share with it - which I'm about to reveal - far surpassed anything I found in the pages of the book. This is how it went down:
It was a spring day in the mid-90s, and I was probably six or seven years old. The Western idea of a manicured and "perfect" garden hadn't arrived in the village yet. So, I was blessed with a piece of heaven on earth: my aunt Zeinab's wild garden. My sister Yafa, cousin Mohanad, and I explored the garden with wide-eyed wonder. The garden was a wild sea of creatures and plants, brimming with life. Turtles of all sizes, grasshoppers, beetles, bees, birds, and butterflies in a kaleidoscope of colors. Rare and common flowers sprouted everywhere, bursting through any available space. The garden had two olive trees, an apricot tree, a fig, two loquats, a grapevine on the roof of my aunt's house (we secretly put a ladder and climbed up, sorry aunt), and a massive wild berry tree. All of them bore so much fruit that they satisfied not just us, but also the non-human dwellers of this wonderland. We all existed in the most fantastical fashion, surrounded by a festival of the senses. But the most stunning phenomenon manifested through a blooming almond tree that lived in the furthest southern corner of the garden.
I must have been lost in a magical interaction with a fluorescent cicada or a poppy when a breeze smelling of almond blossoms brushed my cheek ever so subtly. I looked up, and there she was: the royal almond tree, blooming so abundantly, standing so proud. It reminded me that it had been my only coveted target left unexplored due to its particularly thick trunk that had barely enough wedges to accommodate my small body. I walked toward it tentatively, and upon reaching it, I felt a fluttering in my stomach as I looked up and realized I might have grown just the right height to finally be able to climb it! The thought thrilled me, and the decision was made instantaneously: I am going to try! If not now, never. The worst thing that could happen is a fall on my butt. But no problem. It happened often enough already, and I was used to it by now.
So I did. I rested one foot on the first little branch sticking out, then my second foot on the slightly higher knob, and then, to my utmost joy, I was able to reach with my right hand the branch that was impossible for me to grab hold of before! It now helped me push my body up towards the final knob! "That’s it! It’s happening," I cheered inside. From there, I used my right foot to step on the first branch up, which, in turn, would easily lead to a secure place inside the tree! And I did it!
My heart beat so fast! I stood up as I gained enough support from the branch, and as soon as I reached my full standing position, I was engulfed with overwhelming whiteness and a perfume so intoxicating I forgot my past up to that moment. Nothing existed outside this dream I was living. I couldn't hear or see anything outside this purity. But as if that wasn't enough, as I turned to find a thick enough branch to sit on, I met Her face to face... The secret encounter forever engraved in my being. The experience that has brought me to this page today, after 27 years: Sitting on a branch amidst the whiteness, I came to meet the largest butterfly I have, and will most likely ever, see in my entire existence: a moth matriarch, a colossal piece of perfection! Two wings perched and spread majestically on the branch, looking peacefully at me with the two eyes on its wings, like the world began and saw its end within her. Like no matter what of the world's allure one might encounter, it will all amount to nothing compared to her beauty. I was flabbergasted! The biggest butterfly I had caught hitherto using my butterfly net was barely the size of my finger! This masterpiece was the size of my two open palms together! I couldn't quite contain the emotions I was feeling!
The matriarch butterfly seemed to be imparting something so profound and significant that I was at a loss for words! She was trying to talk to me, I knew it! Perhaps through the ether, she was evoking a profound sense of understanding and insight that was impossible to capture in language. But today I will give it my best shot! The butterfly said:
"I might be gone soon, but my daughters will always stick around, and it is going to be okay"
have absolutely no recollection of how this interaction ended, or how I was able to climb down the tree. Now, in my mid-thirties, I still believe that the almond tree was a portal, an entryway into other dimensions and universes! I did it! As soon as I looked into the eyes of that butterfly, I tapped into infinity. But the story does not end here… The strangest thing that happened was that one day, perhaps weeks later, I visited my aunt's house again and upon entering the house, I saw there on a curtain separating the bathroom from the living room, the matriarch again! Shocked, I ran to my aunt Zeinab and asked her. She said, "Baarafish ya Khalti, I don't know auntie, I just found it there this morning." Was the matriarch trying to tell me that what I thought was a dream is not? Was she trying to make sure I received the knowledge she tried to pass on?
Jumping 22-23 years from that moment: it is now August 29, 2019, precisely at 6:16PM Manhattan, NY. (You will shortly understand why it is impossible to forget those details).
I arrived early at the Sufi House. The subway down to the West Village usually takes 40-45 minutes. But for some reason it got there faster this time. There was another 30 minutes to go till Majlis starts. And I didn’t want to sit inside and wait. Even though I would have probably enjoyed seeing Lenny’s peaceful aura, or sipping persian tea and leafing through Attar’s Conference Of The Birds. But I couldn’t.
I needed to move because my inner life couldn’t. During that period of time everything felt excruciatingly slow like trying to run and scream at the same time while your knuckles are shackled, underwater! A prolonged nightmare that made me question how long I’ll be able to bear it. But despite the darkness I felt inside, I couldn’t possibly miss the beauty of the golden hour around me: The light hitting the townhouse across the street, making its red bricks glow, and vibrate alongside the ivy vines climbing it. A frame of pure magic…
Then…
As if she had manifested out of the beam of gold, I saw a butterfly fluttering within the beam across the street, as if she had a secret pact with the light. "You just give me your golden hour hues and let me bask in your beauty, that way we make each other equally beautiful, and we then don’t have to compete for attention," they didn't. I stood, feeling a complete sense of awe at this simple but magnificent phenomenon, feeling ever so slightly lighter than I was moments ago.
Out of my reverie, I raised my arm and beckoned towards the butterfly. To my breathtaking astonishment, she actually came towards me as I beckoned her! Not only that, but she flew across the street in the blink of an eye and landed on my raised hand!
Can I possibly describe what I felt this time?
Not in a million years.
But I know one thing:
the matriarch was right.
Her daughters will stick around,
and it’s going to be okay…
Adam
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