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g0ldengubler · 3 years

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chapter 7~instant crush

A/N: aaaaaa this chapter is so/so???? i guess it gets better at the end??? idk, i’m starting to get back into that “i’m not a good writer” mindset that i was in at the beginning of nauseous. i’m hoping to start writing another chapter super soon! i’m just stuck in rut and it’s showing in the chapters. i’ll work harder to make them better, but no promises. also listen to the song that the chapter was named after here. it’s literally one of my all time favorite songs on the planet lol. ok, i apologize in advance but i hope u still enjoy :)

Category: fluff

CW: smoking weed, mentions of toys and smoking tools and pieces

Word Count: 2680

before you read | last chapter | next chapter

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After what felt like days, you and Spencer had finally made it to your father's cabin. You hadn't been up north in years, all because you were so focused on getting your dream job. Driving down a dirt road, the smell of the trees mixed with rain had you feeling nostalgic, triggering memories of when you were a little girl, reading Charles Dickens under a tree or on the rocky shores of the lake. You couldn't wait to share these new memories here with him.

When you arrived in Michigan, you made sure you got all of your favorite goodies like Better Maid potato chips, Faygo's Rock'n'Rye, Vernors ginger ale, Superman ice cream, and you even made Spencer stop at your favorite pizza place, Buddy's, so you could get your favorite salad and a cheese pizza with light sauce and a crispy crust. He chuckled at how plain you like your pizza, but it was something you and your grandmother shared a loved for. You wanted Spencer to have as close to the Michigan experience he could because while you weren't in love with your home state, the small things you grew up with gave you joy.

The last errand you made before moving up north was to a dispo in Ann Arbor. Spencer couldn't go in with you, so you left him in the car (even though you wanted him to come in with you, he didn't have his card so it wouldn't work). Walking in, you showed the security guard your med card and continued your way through the store. Jars of bud covered the shelves on the wall. Glass showcases were filled with wax. Each strain (no matter what form) had labels in front of them, giving information about it and what it could do to help with any specific problem like joint pains or body spasms. You never really had a preference on what strain was best, nor got too picky if it was an indica, sativa, or hybrid.

You talked with a staff member and asked what they suggested. You ended up getting some Cherry Pie flower, joint papers, hemp blunt wraps, and a mini bbq lighter. Once you grabbed the goods, you headed out to suddenly notice a store that was at the outdoor mall next door. A smile grew on your face as you ran back to the car, set your bag down behind your seat, and grabbing Spencer by his hand and pulled him with you to the mall.

"Silly girl, I thought we were done with the errands?" He asked.

"One more stop," you said eagerly, "I promise. Plus, I think you'll get a little kick out of it."

A small building appeared as you made him stop in front of it. You saw him look up at the sign, looking a little confused. "There's a store with the same name as me?"

"Wait till you get inside." You giggled.

Those who weren't familiar with the store would think it was an edgier Hot Topic, but once you showed him what was in the back of Spencer's, you saw his jaw drop and couldn't hold in the laugh that was brewing in your throat. "Told you you'd get a little kick out of it."

"Well I thought you meant because of the fact it's called Spencer's, not because of all the...toys...they have."

"Are you getting ideas, Doctor?"

He straightened himself out and fixed his sweater. "I cannot confirm, nor deny your question."

"Dr.Spencer Reid," you giggled, slapping his arm softly, "naughty boy."

"Are you getting idea's, Agent L/N?"

You were quiet for a moment. "...maybe." you mumbled.

Spencer just laughs at the little banter you just had. "Let's save it for when we're home. It'll give me time to really think about it."

As you're left there speechless, your clouded mind is interrupted by the look on his face as he looks at the dick shaped candy they had.

"Ok, ok," you giggled, "let me go find what I'm looking for and then my errands are done. I'm ready to just sit back on the couch, put a fire on, and relax."

From there you went to the middle of the store, where you grabbed a green rolling tray with a panda on his back smoking a joint, a hot pink grinder, and a game controller ashtray before going up to the cashier to pay. You then headed back to the car and headed off to the cabin.

The cabin hadn't changed a bit, with its Christmas lights still hung and the skeleton that was sitting on the porch chair. You thought maybe your dad did all this while you two were on your way, but whatever the reason, you could tell that Spencer was already in love with it once he saw the skeleton. You forgot how big the cabin was. It wasn't small like a fairy's cottage, but you could say it was smaller than Rossi's mansion.

The smell of pine needles and fire smoke filled your head with nostalgia as you entered. You dropped your bags and plopped on the couch. You felt at home, and with Spencer, the feeling was stronger than you could've ever felt. You let out a big sigh, smiling as you hold one of the couch pillows to your chest.

"If your father built this cabin, he's the genius not me." Spencer joked as he moved your legs over so he could sit down next to you. He let your legs rest on his lap, rubbing your legs awkwardly, giving you that awkward white guy smile.

"How about you put the bags in the bedroom and then we'll go exploring," you said as you adjusted your position, using the armrest as support, "I haven't been here in years and I'm feeling very nostalgic."

"Sounds like a plan!...um..." Spencer looks around the living room, trying to find the bedroom.

"Oh, sorry! It's straight down that hall on your left." You pointed over to the hallway next to him. Once he saw the open doors to the bedroom he grabbed your bags and sat them down. You got up as he walked to the room and started exploring. You started in the kitchen, looking back on the times you'd bake the most gooey chocolate chip cookies as your dad cooked the family stew. Your father always had a hobby for making food, didn't matter if it was a meaty dish or a beautiful dessert. You thought nothing could beat your father's cooking, and that became especially true when you went to college.

As you were walking to the hall, you noticed Spencer admire the artwork that was hanging on the walls. "Did you know that the first log cabins that were built in America were emigrants from Sweden and Finland?" He asked. "They had been building them for 1,000 years, prior to coming here."

"That's very interesting," you said loudly as I walked to my old room, "I didn't know that." Something you always loved was to listen to people talk. Spencer was known for rambling about something when he should've been keeping it case related. He'd start off with giving them what they wanted to know, but then get so excited that he kept going on. It was something you did, too, but only around those you were comfortable around and that was very rare.

As he continued to ramble facts about the paintings, you looked around the familiar room that felt a bit distant. Your dad had turned your old room into an office. All the bright lilac walls had turned to gray, and your bed with a matching white desk were replaced with a black leather couch and a black, very sophisticated desk. Pictures of the two of you mixed with Red Wing merchandise hung on the walls and sat at his desk.

"Uuuuhh, Y/N?" Spencer called, "you might want to see this!

With a confused look on your face, you walked out of the office and back out to the living room where you see him hold a ziplock bag. Inside was a small stash of something similar that you bought that day.

"Where did you find all that weed?" you asked.

"I was looking at the books on this bookcase and as I took one out to explore further, this fell out with it."

You start exploring on your own. It had to be here. It'd make complete sense.

"What are you looking for?"

You ignore him for a moment before finding it. That son of a bitch.

You show Spencer the glass piece you found, the light in the room making its blue accent glow.

"Is that a erlenmeyer flask?" He asked, looking puzzled.

You couldn't help but laugh at his innocence. "You're cute," you said, "but no, it's a bong! My dad's a sneaker bastard. I never knew he smoked-" you stopped in your tracks for a moment, thinking. "...I don't know how I feel about that information."

Spencer chuckles as you go through your mini life crisis. You notice his eyes then move in different directions. It took you a minute to realize what he was looking at. He would look at you, then look at the bong, then at the bag of weed, and continue the cycle. A grin fell upon your face, making Spencer grin a evil, yet goofy smile.

"Let's get comfortable first," you propose, "I'll heat up our pizza's and grab the salads, you grab the rock'n'rye and then we'll get to smokiiin."

Without a second thought, the two of you rushed to get into pajamas. You both had decided that Christmas pajamas was the way to go with how cold it was going to be. Coming out of the bedroom as Spencer came out of the bathroom, you both laugh at the fact that you pretty much had the same theme going. While Spencer was wearing a red long sleeve with the vintage coke'a'cola Santa Clause, you wore a white fitted shirt with the coke's'cola polar bears on it. Your pants were pretty much the same red and black checkered flannels, but while Spencer wore just regular slippers, you had on Rudolph the red nose reindeer fuzzy socks.

After heating up the pizza and pouring the drinks, your grab your food and went for the couch. You sat it on the coffee table in front of you before grabbing the bong, along with the bag and your grinder. As you began to grind the flower, you looked over to Spencer, who seemed to be really loving the pop through the nervousness on his face.

"Are you sure you want to try smoking out of a bong, Spence?" you asked, "Because you don't have to if you're too nervous."

"No no, I do want to! I'm just getting excited that's all."

"You're ok with your mouth being on the same place mine has?"

He was quiet for a moment. "No spit will be on this," you explain, taking the look on his face as a maybe, "but we have our napkins if you want to wipe."

"Ok, good!" He sighed out of relief.

Once the bud was grounded, you took some out with your fingers and packed it in the bowl, rubbing your fingers together to get some of the sticky stuff off. You then put on some music from you groovy playlist on your phone, connecting it to the bluetooth speakers that surrounded the room.

As you put your mouth on the top, lighting the bowl, you move the flame over half of it, letting Spencer have the other half. You felt eyes burning on you as you took the bowl out and inhaled. You held the smoke in your lungs for a few moments before a cloud formed in front of your face.

You handed the bong and lighter to Spencer, showing him what to do. You reminded him to inhale as he held the flame to the bowl. You watch as he did exactly what you did, copying your movements from memory. When he exhaled, the cloud of smoke was a bit bigger than yours was, you were shocked that he didn't have a coughing fit afterward.

He sat it down on the coffee table and sat back on the couch, letting the sensations take over his body. You grabbed the bong again and took another hit, handing it to Spencer afterward. He surprisingly took it from your hands and took another rip. You ended up doing this a few more times until your grinder was empty. You took the last bong rip, setting it back down and slouched on the couch.

By this time, the munchies had kicked in. You both devoured your dinner in a matter of minutes. But the tingles slowly left your body once you finished, so you grabbed the bong and your grinder again. This time, you took the bottom part off, looking at the leftover bits of the bud that turned into almost a powder form. You then grabbed your bag from the dispo that was sitting on the table next to you, and grabbed the flower you had bought. You took the cherry pie bud out of its container and ground it up.

You looked over to Spencer, who was just feeling the music. He looked very much relaxed, staring at the ceiling fan that hung above them.

After taking a huge rip from the bong, you coughed out a bit as you sat it back down. Without even realizing, you sneaked your way under his arm, laying your head on his chest. He put his arms around you, letting you snuggle into him.

With the light of the moon now being your only source of light, and the song Instant Crush playing in the background, you felt safe in his arms. Nothing could've ruined this moment. All you wanted was him and him alone.

"You're like a beautiful dragon, Y/N." You heard Spencer say.

You look up at him with a confused look on your face. "What do you mean by that?"

"When you exhaled. When I exhaled, even. We were like dragons blowing fire. It was so cool."

He was definitely gone, it was pretty obvious. But hearing him babble on and on about being dragons made you smile and giggle. It was contagious, making Spencer giggle with you, and then you couldn't stop. Your stomach and cheeks were hurting at this point.

Once the giggling calmed down, you looked up at him, as he looked down at you. Without a thought in mind, you both leaned and kissed. Your lips hovered over the other for a moment, before leaning back in, your lips melting together as your tongues attacked the other. His right hand in your hair, and his left cupping the side of your face.

After a minute, Spencer broke away and spoke. "I don't care what we are right now," he said, "we can talk about that another time. Right now, I just want you."

You smiled and went back in. He smiled through the kiss, letting tongue go back to where it belonged.

And there you stayed, kissing here and there, taking a few more hits before you both passed out on the couch, your arms still around the other.

#spencer reid smut #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer x reader #spencer reid x reader #matthew gray gubler #mgg #spencer reid fluff #mgg fluff #criminal minds #cm #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fan fiction #criminal minds fic

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grownups-are-the-real-monsters · 3 years

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(There's No Place Like) Jake's House for Christmas

{I’ve decided to post some Holiday one-shots during this Holiday season!! Leading up to Christmas, I’ll post a one-shot for a few different King Ships so be on the look out!!}

Summary: Cuthbert’s toes were going to break off in a few seconds if he didn’t switch positions but the glittering Christmas lights would never get put up that way. He continued to stand on his tip-toes, pressing the green wire of multi-colored bulbs against their wall.

He glanced over his shoulder to spot his husband digging through the box of dusty decorations with something like pensive curiosity on his face. Almost as if he had trouble seeing the point in decorating at all, which Cuthbert knew was a very likely possibility. It might irritate him if Roland didn’t flash him genuinely warm smiles every twenty minutes.

Fandom: The Dark Tower

Ships: Roland/Cuthbert, Jake/Benny, Susannah/Eddie

Word Count: 6,773

The year of Jake’s 13th Birthday had so far been the busiest one in the Deschain-Allgood household. The husbands had finally managed to gather a regular crowd at their own bar which they’d opened just the previous year (despite all obstacles from outside and inside sources). And just a few weeks shy of Jake’s big day, their old, ‘We’re Homophobic but won’t say it out-loud’ neighbors moved out of the sweet brick house to their right. Roland had helped carry out boxes just to make them uncomfortable one last time. Loving Father and darling son had played an extra long game of catch there in the front-lawn while the old sweethearts ‘politely’ hid their scowls.

From that point on, dead silence was all that came from next door. Roland had been pleased with the idea of having no obnoxious neighbors coming to replace them but just days before Jake’s birthday, a large moving truck rolled down the street. It had hiccupped like an old man before parking up against the Robinson’s old curb. Cuthbert had just enough time to spy on them through the safety of their large Livingroom window before he was due to open their bar for the night. “Young enough to be our kids, maybe.” He’d wrinkled his nose as Jake observed the couple for himself.

“You sure that one isn’t yours, dad?” Jake bumped Cuthbert’s arm and gestured to the skinny long-haired man pushing his girlfriend up the walk-way in her wheelchair. They’d stayed silent again for a moment or two, father and son kneeling on the breaking couch. The neighbor turned to get a box then, showing off a t-shirt which read ‘Somebody who hates me went to Colorado & all they got me was this dumbass shirt’.

Cuthbert and Jake fell into eerily similar sounding hysteric laughter while Roland finally attempted to sneak some glances.

They’d had to order in that night because Roland burned their dinner.

More time began to pass and Jake realized he’d have to save himself from the embarrassment of having 1 one incredibly recluse father and 1 overly-social dad and make the first neighborly move all on his own.

That had been accomplished by playing out in the backyard with Oy on the finest of autumn afternoons. He kept himself busy until he suspected someone on the other side of that wood fence had come out to enjoy the weather. So...

He picked up his catching ball and ‘accidentally’ tossed it over.

What he hadn’t known was that his neighbor, later introduced as Eddie Dean, had been sitting in a lounge chair positioned perfectly for him to get popped in the shoulder.

However, Eddie of New York hadn’t cared. He played about 15 minutes worth of catch with Jake until gathering his girlfriend, Susannah, for a formal family introduction.

Jake didn’t get to hear much of that first conversation they’d had with his Father’s but he didn’t need to. For he’d always had a knack for sensing certain things. What he felt from Eddie and Susannah was an outpour of warmth and determination for life...Jake supposed that was exactly what tied Roland to them so instantly.

: : : : : : : : : Time had slipped through young Jake’s fingers like the fluffy snow which now fell from the gray clouds hovering above the neighborhood. Silver bells were ringing out for Christmas and the upcoming New year.

He passed through the cold, dead eyes of many Snowmen on his walk home from the last day of school. He pulled aimlessly at his heavy coat (old and comforting, passed down from Cuthbert) when he felt a sudden jolt of shock that took a bit of his breath away. He didn’t have to look to know who that was.

There against the white fuzzy sky and curling Jake’s back in a forward hunch was Benny Slightman and his familiar toothy grin. “Merry Christmas Jake!”

“Gee, thanks Benny.” He did his best to hide his amused expression, trying to look back at him as best as he could. Benny shifted and looped his arms around his neck with ease. “Happy Holidays, here’s a broken back.” He huffed yet hiked the slightly smaller boy up to keep steady.

Benny only chuckled happily, he felt the breath on his ear as he wiggled his feet. “This isn’t the way to your house...?”

Jake rolled his eyes as he started to turn around. “Astute observation Benny.” He reached up to move his friend’s hand down to avoid being choked. “I was going to walk past your house to see if I’d run into you and....”

Another laugh. Benny tightened his grip and enjoyed the sounds of crunching snow under his friend’s feet. He nuzzled his face into the dip between Jake’s cheek and shoulder.

Those same snowmen from before, with eyes of dull black, watched again as Jake padded back with a boy caught on his back. They, of course, said nothing but stared one. Sometimes from under knit hats but more often they sported simple bald heads. “I have a question for you, Benny.”

His friend hummed but spoke nothing.

“My dad’s are having this Christmas party tonight.” He shoved the boy farther up his back, gently. “Our neighbors are coming and everything. Do you wanna come?” The slight hiccup of nerves in his voice was obvious only to him.

“Sounds fun to me!”

Jack smiled, holding onto the boy’s legs a bit tighter. ‘Yes. Benny could come. Yes, he could come and play.’

Benny had yet to actually come over to his home. He’d never even seen Roland or Cuthbert--not that Jake had been afraid for such. Benny was purely sweet. Older in years but younger at heart. Jake had no doubt that the boy would be impressed by his fathers. There weren’t very many people in town these days that weren’t. It sounded braggy but Jake took pride in his family. He just didn’t want them to think...-

He’d mentioned his buddy to his parents a few times...at least enough for Cuthbert to insist he invite him over. But for an odd reason, Jake kept on keeping Benny to himself like his own special secret friend. Cuthbert sensed as much considering he gave Jake mini-looks whenever the subject came up. He liked for his son to let-go and behave like a carefree boy and if getting to spend some time away from home with a new friend was the way to this, he’d be ok with that.

Benny sniffled into his mitten as snow continued to flurry down all around them, standing out against the colorful strings of lights around the streetlamps. Christmas was upon them now but would be over just as quickly. Boy boys silently hoped for a long stand-still pause; one to make the Holiday last much longer.

“Wanna walk to the Dunkin’ Donuts for hot chocolate?”

Jake attempted to look back again. “Yeah! I’ll even buy you a doughnut.” He looked both ways once they reached the busy street and allowed Benny to slide off his back and plant his feet on the concrete.

“What did I do to deserve that?” He teased but Jake just shrugged.

“Nothing.” He looked off down the distant right and felt a knot of pure joy hit his gut.

: : : : : : : : :

Cuthbert’s toes were going to break off in a few seconds if he didn’t switch positions but the glittering Christmas lights would never get put up that way. He continued to stand on his tip-toes, pressing the green wire of multi-colored bulbs against their wall.

The humble green tree had been set-up in their living room for a week previous to the day Cuthbert announced he wanted to have a Christmas party. Roland had lifted Jake off the floor to hang the star.

The home--their home--was sort of small but fleshed out with the strapping personalities of the men who’d bought it years ago. It shined during each Christmas season because they had a young boy--who was now a ways past young...

Slowly, he lowered himself down and came upon his husband to kneel next to him. He briefly admired the box which turned out to be filled with the ghosts of Christmas past; macaroni noodle ornaments made by the hands of a boy not too much younger than Jake. “Our son is a teenager.”

Roland scoffed, thumping his hands past several tongue depressor reindeer. His eyes--heavy with sleep--blinked thoughtfully.

“Seems like just yesterday he was following you wherever you went.” Cuthbert gently reached for Roland’s hand. “Remember him walking around the house with your boots on-?” He paused, feeling that memory deep in his chest. “I look at him and I see you, Roland.” He began to rub his thumb in smooth circles against the rough skin of his husbands palm. “Being a father looks good on you.”

“Better on you.” Roland gently slapped Cuthbert’s hand. For a moment they just leaned on each other. “I’m gonna miss driving him everywhere. I already don’t get to tell him stories at bedtime anymore-” Roland shrugged, to anyone but his husband he would only look indifferent but Cuthbert knew he was broken up.

“There’s time left, Roland. Lots. Do you good to remember that.” He kissed him quickly. “We’ve done good. Combing knots out of his hair...taking him to school.” This time he had to stop himself with a purse of his lips. “You’ve come a long way from the boy who told me he didn’t know he could be a father.”

Roland looked a mixture of touched and sad. “I still think about that day I dropped him.”

Cuthbert rolled his eyes but his stomach dropped at the memory-echo of little Jake’s screaming mixing with Roland’s horrified gasps. It’d been shortly after the adoption process. That baby had wiggled his tiny body right out of his new father’s arms and tumbled to the floor. Carpeted but still just about the scariest sound in the world. “That was a long time ago. You wouldn’t ever let him fall again.” He teased but with a genuine smile.

Roland only smiled back, kissed Cuthbert’s temple and continued to sort through the box. Together they separated what was worth keeping out & what needed to be thrown away. Cuthbert’s dancing snowmen were in the garbage pile for two-minute intervals every twenty minutes before Roland finally gave up.

“Bert?” Roland frowned as he watched his husband carry the snowmen into their bedroom. No answer. “Cuthbert?” still nothing. He frowned, hopping up to chase after him.

Cuthbert was rooting his hands through their sock draw and occasionally pulling out a few pairs and folding them together. The snowmen were dancing and singing just at his eye-line. It was obviously very amusing to him which Roland couldn’t help but admire.

Cuthbert’s broken nails caught on threads every few minutes so he’d pull and pull until the thin string would just snap. But on the eighth time he grew a little bit restless and snapped the string. Quickly shutting the drawer afterwards. “Roland?”

He turned to his husband, who was still lazing around behind him like he wasn’t sure how to decorate without direction. He gave him a small smile and walked towards him, putting his hand on his back. Roland looked up at him, waiting for him to speak whatever was on his mind. “Do you think-” he paused for a second before shaking her head. “Never mind, it’s stupid.”

Roland smiled up at him and chuckled. “You say a lot of stupid things, I won’t mind.”

Cuthbert gave him a look that he’d seen a lot of wives give their husbands when they were younger and felt a genuine thrill that he had a husband to be annoyed with now. It was a look of amusement and familiarity. “Well, I was just wondering…” he began again, going back over to the drawers to root around for Christmas socks. “Do you think Jake has something to tell us?” he asked, a little unsure of himself.

Roland cocked his head to the side and looked lost. “Like what?” He asked, swirling an extra mini string on dead lights in his hand. Cuthbert sighed and leaned back on the drawers behind him. Clasping his hands together, he spoke again.

“Well, he’s been spending a lot of time with that Benny kid….” he trailed off, waiting to see the glaze of realization in his husbands eyes but Roland just smiled.

“Yeah, that’s great. Isn’t it? I’m glad he’s got someone to hang out with, I was getting worried-”

“Roland!” he crossed his arms and the corner of his mouth raised into a small grin. “I mean, do you think the boys….”

Roland still had that clueless look on his face so Cuthbert tried to specify with a look what he had actually meant. “….like each-other?” he finished.

“No.” Roland answered, definitively. Just like that. Cuthbert was actually a bit hurt by the quick rejection. He raised his brows.

“That was decisive.” His head shook just the same as the snowmen behind him. “I was only asking because he’s just seemed so happy-”

“Because they are friends.” Roland shrugged.

“Yes but he keeps him away from us-”

“Jake probably doesn’t want us to embarrass him.”

Cuthbert scowled at the contestant interruptions. “Yes but they go down to the woods all the time-”

“And? We used to do that all the time too.” Roland shrugged again which defused some of Cuthbert's anger into laughter.

“We’re married now! We snuck down there to make-out! Don’t you see my point here?” He hunched over to get the last of his hearty laughter out but Roland looked completely annoyed by the whole show. “I’m not laughing at you.”

“Good.” He rolled his eyes, shoving the string-lights aside so he could leave the room.

Cuthbert followed him like a lost puppy, same hurt expression too. “Why is this making you so uncomfortable?”

Roland turned, just now noticing that Cuthbert had stuck an old (probably rusty) Christmas pin through the earring hole he’d first given himself in the sixth grade. He sighed with a soft expression, now reaching over to unclasp the damn thing before it got infected.

Cuthbert just moved back as if burned. The pain that cause Roland was obvious on his face.

“I don’t want to think about him growing up right now, Bert.” His partner’s voice was uncharacteristically soft. There was more to the issue, that they both knew, but it was have to wait for a later period. Now, Cuthbert just brushed his hand against his love’s face and smiled.

Outside the snow pelted down harder and covered their lawn in a cold blanket of slush. The picture of their son’s growth would surely not freeze but the air surrounding their home most defiantly would. So, Cuthbert decided it was time to make some hot chocolate and cuddle with the man he’s been enamored with since they were small.

“You want a candy cane in yours?” Roland asked, as if reading his thoughts.

“Yes please.”

A few kisses and a laugh later, the men were guzzling down their warm drinks and waiting for their company to come.

: : : : : : : : :

'Chestnuts roasting on an open fire, Jack Frost nipping at your nose …’

Benny’s nose twitched almost as if taking cue from the song and Jake thought it had to be the most adorable thing he’d ever seen...He looked back down at his sad little doughnut and sighed. Hot chocolate burned it’s way down his throat while he wondered just what his parents were doing.

The two boys sat in the lonesome corner of the Dunkin Donut’s where he knew for a fact Benny had once spilled a bottle of strawberry milk all over himself when he was nine. The picture of the incident in his mind made Jake want to giggle. Instead, he watched Benny pull his sweater sleeves over his hands and drink tiny sips of his hot drink.

“Quit your looking at me.” Benny chuckled almost self consciously--though he needn’t be--and tried to flip Jake off with subtlety he never had. It only made Jake feel alive with joy; he kept looking. “You can get a cup of whip-cream for dogs, look-!” Benny cast his eyes over at a couple feeding their little furry-friend at the counter. “We should’ve brought Oy.”

Jake loved the way Benny absolutely adored his dog just as much as he did. It almost made him feel like they were part of a little unit. “I think you only like me for Oy.”

Nat King Cole changed to Paul McCartney and Benny bounced a little atop his stool. “He’s a nice bonus.” He chuckled. “But you’re my honest favorite.” Benny leaned in closer over the table.

Jake surprised himself by letting a blush bled into his cheeks. He quickly looked away.

Benny, as carefree as ever, didn’t seem to notice. “What are your dad’s gonna think of me?” That question shocked Jake. He nearly choked on his doughnut.

“I guess what they already think of you.” He finished chewing and swallowed carefully under Benny’s watchful eyes. He wanted more, obviously. Jake pounded his fist to his chest. “I’ve never been very good at making friends, to be completely honest Benny. My parents are pretty happy with you.”

That earned him a smile as white as the snow. “And they haven’t even met me yet!” He struck a bit nervous to Jake in that moment.

Honestly, Jake couldn’t see how anyone in their right mind could dislike Benny. There was so much the boy found to love in his friend--his openness, appetite for fun, his willingness to work hard when there was chores to do. And there was that yodeling laugh of his--to name just a few things. “I have your Christmas present ready for tonight.”

Benny was aglow at just the mention. “Me too.” He tapped his bag, which was currently close to sitting in a puddle. Jake chuckled lightly and allowed himself to admire his friend.

He thought back to the time not so long ago when they’d met. When Jake had been introduced to Benny’s kindly personality. He’d been deeply afraid he would only lose the friendship they had developed so quickly. He’d been a boy who constantly lived in his head and not many kids his age liked him. But surprisingly, Benny had grown quite attached to Jake. Reminding the boy of that John Denver song that Cuthbert sometimes sang around the house... ‘Follow me where I go what I do and who I know. Make it part of you to be a part of me’

Jake let a quick release of air pass his lips in the way Benny used to do when they slept close together at the Slightman household. He was growing attached as well...

“Jake!”

The boy did not jump...not in the slightest. But Benny nearly jumped to the ceiling, it was quite funny considering the man who shouted was just Father Callahan. The man from Salem’s Lot who now lived here in town with them.

He was dusting powdery snow from his shoulders and juggling a few bags as he strolled past the counter (for now) to say hello. It looked like a scene straight from the print of a Christmas card. “Good afternoon.” Jake hopped off his stool to help the man set his bags on a nearby table.

“Oh, thank you.” Callahan smiled, taking off his gloves with an appreciative expression.

“No problem, Father.” He shrugged then looked back to Benny, looking a bit...shy. Which was a bit odd. “This is my friend, Benny Slightman.”

Callahan held out a hand and shook with the boy before digging through his bags. Jake watched him with amusement. “Would you like to come to our Christmas party, sir?”

The man turned, looking a bit touched. “If your parents would have me.” He nodded to himself. “I believe I carry a gift for your Roland in one of these bags.” He huffed.

“I hope you’ll promise not to have one of those long religious debates with my dad.” Exasperation was hard to keep from his voice. Benny looked like he wanted to chuckle but...he held back for whatever reason.

Donald Callahan held up his hands in mock surrender. “I promise.”

: : : : : : : : :

The twenty-three year olds had much more energy than Roland imagined he even had left. He watched--gleefully if you asked Cuthbert--as Susannah and Eddie Dean made their way up the walk to the door.

They were chuckling already, Roland could hear Eddie singing ‘Santa Claus is Coming to Town’. He smiled and opened the door before they could even knock.

‘Life was funny. Sometimes it delivered you two of the greatest friends a person could have. But it also gave you the inability to voice your genuine thankfulness for their being.’

“Merry Christmas!” Eddie leaned in to smack a kiss against Roland’s rough cheek before moving on to Cuthbert. Roland did not have the time to playfully shove him back before Suzie approached with that special little smile just for him.

“Happy Holidays old man.” She smiled and accepted a gentle hug before wheeling herself in the open spot next to Cuthbert’s rocking chair.

Eddie Dean was admiring the tinsel surrounding the kitchen while mixing himself some kind of Christmas drink. Roland watched his friend for a few moments, only meeting his eye when he spilled the eggnog into the sink. He took the time to be grateful that he could share Eddie’s laughter.

“Where’s Jake?” Suzie craned her neck towards the bedrooms. As she did so, Oy padded his way out of Jake’s and scampered over to jump into her lap. He didn’t usually take to strangers but Eddie & Susannah seemed to be exceptions.

“Out with his friend, Benny.” Cuthbert took the same drink order which Eddie handed to him without hesitation. “Think he probably invited him over for the party.” He hushed his voice like the topic was a secret.

From the kitchen, Eddie noticed that with ease as he stirred Roland’s hot chocolate. Standing there in his neighbors--friends--house with his fuzzy snowmen socks pressed against the cold tile, Eddie Dean felt at home. “You ok, big guy?” He slapped the back of his hand to Roland’s hard chest.

The big guy in question wiped down the splash of eggnog he’d gotten on his shirt and shrugged. He would speak nothing of the stirring inside him, that much Eddie knew.

“I brought a classic Christmas movie.” He changed the subject for him, popping some kind of snack he’d found into his mouth. He pulled free a DVD case from his back pocket.

“Star Wars...” Roland squinted like an old man to read “Is not a Christmas movie. Put that away before Cuthbert thumps you.” He chuckled, sipping hesitantly at his drink.

“Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back, thank you very much.” Eddie scoffed. “It takes place on a snow planet. That’s close enough.” He shrugged. “Plus, I’m still mad at your husband for saying the Prequels are better.”

Roland smiled at the mention of that long debate the two similar men had during their mini Thanksgiving get-together. Eddie had decided the time had come to share his fondness of the movies with his older friends. Jake had gotten a real kick out of watching them go back-and-forth for nearly two hours. “If it were up to me, I’d let you.” He rolled his lips together to taste some more chocolate as he set down the mug. “You know I thought those movies were kind of...cool.”

Eddie chuckled. “You were a real riot, Roland. Something to say about every scene.”

“I just like the idea of...a spiritual force binding us together.” His eyes seemed to gloss over. “One that directs us...has a will of it’s own.” He clinked their mugs together before turning around to join his husband and Susannah.

Eddie pursed his lips together. “I just like the lightsaber fights but whatever.”

“Come on, Eddie! We’re watching ‘A Christmas Story!’“ Susannah called.

“Can’t we watch a Christmas movie that isn’t overplayed like...‘Home Alone’ or ‘Scrooged’!” He pretended to pout. “Oooh or ‘Gremlins’!” He bounced on his slippery socks as he plopped right next to Roland.

“Since when is Home Alone not overplayed?” Susannah rolled her eyes fondly. Delicate flakes of snow continued to fall and press against the glass of the window behind her head.

“And we can’t watch Gremlins, it scares Roland!” Cuthbert smirked and was immediately rewarding with a hard kick to the ankle. The attempt to hush him did not even phase him. Eddie burst into hysterical laughter.

Susannah even fell victim to the giggles, leaning over the arm of her chair to try and conceal it.

“He’s lying. It doesn’t scare me.” Roland thumped his husband on the arm and leaned back on the couch, ignoring his husband mocking him. “Ask Jake.” Cuthbert pretended to nod in agreement but sipped his eggnog suspiciously.

: : : : : : : : :

Jake gulped down his hot chocolate without considering that Benny might be staring at him. Father Callahan went on to his own table with a peppermint tea to finish sorting through his gifts. They could still hear the shuffling of gift wrap and bags upon bags.

“Jake?”

The boy finally set down his drink and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. The foamy residue was erased in a half-second. Benny had to fight away the thought of tasting that chocolate. Deep down there was a part of himself sparring against the naivety which he’d lived with for years. “Should we wait to walk over with Father Callahan?”

Jake paused, noticing the tonal shift within his friend. “We could...” He glanced over at the man before going back to Benny with a gentle grin. “But we don’t have to. He could just meet us all there.”

Benny tried not to look too pleased with that answer but found it hard to stop his shy smile as he hid it behind his cup. He watched as Jake went over to say his goodbye to his old friend with nerves building up.

“We’re good to go.” He threw away the empty cups and grabbed for Benny’s wrist, pulling him out of the Dunkin’ with something like excitement. The touch burned pleasantly at the boy’s skin with hot intensity. For a ridiculous moment, Benny worried Jake might catch the way his pulse was thundering and drop him from his grasp with disgust. He didn’t dare to look at the Father as they darted out.

Together, they walked a little over a block before either of them spoke again. Benny kept his heart to a calm flutter and thought briefly of the Christmas song Jake was crazy for...‘The moon and stars seem awful cold and bright Let's hope the snow will make this Christmas right...’

The snow was at that point, a thin blanket coating the wet ground. It would soon be the same kind of dangerous ice that his Father had despised. It’d make it hard for him to drive to work, he’d complain with a shaking fist.

Abruptly, Jake turned to face him with his nose a bright color to rival Rudolph’s. He pulled softly at the end of Benny’s sleeve, truly making him all the more endearing. ‘My friend the world will share this special night. Because it's Christmas...’

His eyes were glowing like the festive sparkling bulbs across each house’s rooftops. If he knew of the stunning beauty it made him, Jake showed not. Instead, he just kept swaying their arms in the cold air.

“Jake?”

The boy blinked. “Sorry. I was just-” He waved his spare hand by his ear. “I wrote some stuff on your card. But I think I’d rather just say it to you...before we get to my house. If that’s ok?”

Benny raised his brows but nodded quickly. “Yeah-yes. I’m ok with that.” He smiled, kicking himself for sounding so stupid. Jake smiled, looking confident in a way that Benny couldn’t imagine for himself. His heart thumped down to his gut.

“First of all, Merry Christmas.” He chuckled, looking embarrassed for the first time in a while. He wiped his free sleeve against his cheek when hot color blossomed underneath. “I’m glad you’re my friend, Benny. I really needed a good one and you’re the best.” He swayed their hands again but did not meet Benny’s eyes. “I really like you.”

Benny couldn’t even begin to convince himself that he didn’t hear Jake’s special inflection or see the way he’d widened his eyes. “I really like you too, Jake.”

His friend blushed fiercer and let his hand fall from Benny’s sleeve to fully grab onto his hand, interlocking their grip. For a second, the boys couldn’t manage much else but giggling there in the middle of the sidewalk.

“I’ll race you home?” Jake challenged.

Benny smirked and hugged the boy’s hand tighter, their palms were a sweaty and warm relief from the bitter cold. “You’ll have to let me go.” The party seemed a weary idea now compared to their new found discovery. But as the snow continued to poor down on them, Jake seemed suddenly eager.

He hesitantly slipped his hand free and blinked up at Benny with curious eyes before launching forward and placing a surprise kiss against his cheek. He pulled back and stood for a mere second before taking off towards his house.

“That’s cheating, Chambers!” Benny called out, catching a few snowflakes on his lips before chasing after the boy.

: : : : : : : : :

Eddie was curled up against Susannah with a look of pleasant shock at the scene unfolding in front of their eyes.

Cuthbert lounged right onto Roland’s lap and was heavily making-out with the man in such a...relaxed state. Neither neighbor had ever seen Roland so...open or frisky before. The guy was downright playful in the way that he ran his large hand through Cuthbert’s tangled hair and knocked off his obnoxious Santa hat.

Susannah smiled for a moment before throwing the DVD case at their heads. “Quit that, will you?” She chuckled when Cuthbert tumbled onto the floor with a smile. She pretended to ignore her husbands thumbs-up directed to a now more in-character Roland, who was looking stern once again. “Your boy will be home any minute.”

Cuthbert leaned against Roland’s tall leg and grinned.

As if on cue, the front door creaked open to reveal two red-faced boys as they piled into the home, wiping their boots on the mat. “Hey guys.” Jake bounced inside, greeting Oy with rushed excitement. His friend stayed back by the doorway with a shy expression. Eddie waved, hoping to ease the kid.

“This is Benny Slightman.” Jake reached out for his friend from his place, kneeling in front of Oy, and urged him forward.

Roland shifted in the arm chair, both Eddie and Susannah noticed the uncomfortable look on his face. Eddie felt a sudden urge to go over and ask him about it. However, Cuthbert crossed the room to shake the kids hand before anyone could do anything else.

“Cuthbert, Jake’s Dad.” He grinned, the beautiful one of his. He pointed to his Husband. “That’s Roland, his other Dad. Over there are our neighbors, Susannah and Eddie Dean.”

Benny nervously shifted on his feet and nodded. Susannah smiled kindly and was close enough to offer her hand to shake. “Nice to meet you, Benny. You boys want to watch ‘Home Alone two’ with us?” She asked kindly, not knowing this had immediately endeared her to the kid. Benny decided just then that he really liked her.

Jake gave Oy a final pat before stealing a glance to Roland. “Maybe we’ll join later. Benny and I are gonna go exchange gifts in my room.”

Roland seemed to consider the statement with some kind of tension hanging in the air. Nothing necessarily bad...just a bit awkward though for once in his life, Jake didn’t seem to notice anything was off. “Alright.” He took a long sip of his coffee and smiled back when Jake rewarded him with one.

The boy ushered his friend into the other room and quickly shut the door behind them.

“And what did I say?” Cuthbert asked, a smirk on his face but Roland didn’t seem too amused. He looked blankly at the closed door before excusing himself for a refill. Eddie watched Cuthbert deflate and felt a pang of sadness for him.

He got up, Susannah urging him to follow Roland, and went straight for the kitchen to chase the pacing man. “What’s up with you?” He asked, sparing his own look to Jake’s closed door.

“Nothing.”

Eddie rolled his eyes and dug his fingers into an open bag of cookies left on the counter by Cuthbert earlier. He wasn’t the biggest fan of Peppermint but the taste was actually quite nice on his hot tongue. Ignoring his friends obvious attempt to shut down the conversation, Eddie blocked the doorway. “I’m not an idiot, you know?”

“Nothing that concerns you, Eddie.” Roland corrected himself with that special classy asshole tone of his. Nothing couldn’t possibly piss Eddie off quicker than that voice.

“Just when I think we’re getting to be close, you shut me down.” He scowled and swallowed a particularly minty chunk of cookie. “I wonder how Cuthbert feels being married to someone so...”

“So what?” Roland’s wise eyes crinkled with anger.

“So guarded...so solitary.” Eddie flicked his tongue accusingly and nearly choked on the cookie crumbs lingering in his mouth. Part of him found it disgustingly strong and wanted to spit up the remnants into the silver sink. But he held that back in favor of appearing non-idiotic.

Roland huffed and blew past his skinnier friend and treaded his way back to the lounge seat.

“Oh no, Don’t waltz back in here if you’re all worked up.” Susannah’s voice came from a ways off, making Eddie smile despite the annoyance flaring up inside him. He could always count on his wife.

Eddie followed in shortly after and plopped down next to Cuthbert who was looking just as irritated when he leaned over to whisper; “Suzy thinks Roland has some internalized homophobia to work-out.”

Eddie raised a brow. “The dude is married to a man, how can he be homophobic?” He asked, feeling that dreaded idiotic feeling again.

Taking another invisible cue, the doorbell rang and was used as Roland’s next distraction.

Father Don Callahan & a handsome friend entered behind a small pile of Christmas printed bags.

: : : : : : : : :

Benny ran his hand through his hair, feeling through the soft curls. He found that he did that more and more, especially when he was nervous. The heat from just his nerves alone was getting close to unbearable. He shed his larger coat (finally) and placed it awkwardly in his lap.

Though, Jake simply reached out to swipe it and threw it across his bed (blue sheets) with a smile thick with teeth. “Merry Christmas, Benny.” He placed a delicate present (silver wrapping) between their criss-crossed legs.

His hands shook but his smile never faltered because Jake was just about the cutest Benny had ever seen him. He watched nervously as he playfully shook the gift.

Unwrapping slowly, bending the paper under his curled fingers and enjoying that attention…was NOT of his nature. Not at all. Benny tore open the gift with anxiety pouring out of him like sweat.

Laying atop a bed of fluff was one of those spinner rings he’d talked about just a couple weeks ago. It stared up at him, shining into his eyes.

“You said you wanted to try one of them to help with your fidgeting.” Jake grinned before scooting closer to pick it from the bed and hold it out for his friend. Benny slowly slid his ring finger into the cold silver with a warm blush taking over his cheeks.

“I got one with paw prints on it...cause you only like me for my dog, you know?” He chuckled, backing off slightly to watch Benny’s reaction.

“Rad.” A horrible word really. But it was just the one to pop into his mind like a dumb old jack-in-the-box. Benny cringed but quickly laughed it off. “I mean, Thanks, Jake. I love it. Thank you!” He spun the metal and watched the prints blur. “Your turn, now!” He reached into his own bag and handed over a medium sized green box. The red ribbon glittered under the light.

The boys had gone for the same theme, it seemed. Jake pulled free a silver ornament in perfect likeness to Oy by it’s velvety red loop. Though Benny felt a renewed sense of inferiority as he spun his ring, Jake’s eyes light up. He cradled his hands under the ornament with that shy smile of his.

“It’s lame, I know, to get someone an ornament for Christmas...” Benny frowned. “Your gift-”

"It's not a competition, Benny. Besides..." Jake turned back to look at the ornament that was now laying in the tissue paper. "I love it, you know me so well." He chuckled before biting into his cheek and turning slightly, to face Benny fully. He opened his mouth to say something but Benny was quicker to voice his own thought.

“Do you want to go back to watch the movie...?” He gestured to the door.

“Do you?” Jake countered.

No. He did not. Benny really wanted to keep their illusion of privacy up for just a little longer. His heart was doing flips in his chest just at the thought of it. “No...” He giggled. “But I get the sense that you’ll be missed, Jake.”

The boy shrugged. “Ok. We’ll go watch.” They set their gifts onto Jake’s nightstand and went for the door but before either of their hands could curl around the gold, Jake leaned over and gently kissed Benny’s cheek.

It was quick and devastatingly soft. But very, very important to both of them.

: : : : : : : : :

The two boys ended up on the couch with a blanket tossed over them by Cuthbert, only one so of course they had to squish together or else one of them would be too cold.

Jake had somehow found himself with Benny’s sleeping head resting on his shoulder by the second movie. Not that he minded it at all. Benny had a candy cane hanging out of the side of his mouth that he occasionally twirled around. But was now slipping from the corner of his lips.

Roland watched Jake, who was watching Benny, with a feeling of...discomfort(?) that even he didn’t understand.

“Please free that cane before it goes down the kids throat, Jake.” Susannah chuckled. The boy chuckled and when he slipped the red & white candy out, Benny shook himself awake.

“Sorry.”

“S’fine.” Jake grinned and let his gaze linger. Benny looked around for that Father Callahan, who’d been in the kitchen when he fell asleep, and found him basically curled up with that friend he’d brought; Lupe.

Benny widened his eyes. “Is he gay?” He snapped his head over to whisper to Jake, who’d started to cackle.

“Yeah, he is.” He wiped his sleeve across his mouth to settle down. “We’re you worried he was...homophobic?” His brow raised as he remembered how off his friend became in that Dunkin’ when ol’ Father Don Callahan came over.

“Yes!”

The boys dissolved into a privately shared laugh as Oy jumped onto the couch next to them.

Cuthbert plopped down into Roland’s lap and gently ran his fingers down his shoulder as they just watched their son. “Are you alright?”

Roland nodded, pulling his eyes away and towards his handsome husband who was cuddling down next to him despite the limited seat room. It would be annoying if it were anyone else on earth but for Cuthbert, Roland loved like Cupid.

He kissed the top of his head and hid behind it slightly as the intro to ‘Gremlins’ played on their small TV. “I hate you.” He mumbled into Cuthbert’s hair.

He hummed. “I love you too.” He leaned back and kissed Roland’s jaw. “Merry Christmas.”

Outside, the snow had slowed considerably but the ground was not visible under the thick blanket given from the sky.

#used an actual jake quote when he was talking about what he likes in Benny #his openness and appetite for fun etc..#The Dark Tower #my fanfiction #jake chambers #benny slightman #roland deschain #cuthbert allgood #eddie dean #susannah dean #stephen king #holiday fics

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hailing-stars · 5 years

Text

for peter - part 3

Summary

“Tony.”

He turned and saw Pepper marching towards them.

“You brought the leash,” said Pepper, her voice clipped, annoyed. “Our daughter is on a leash, but our dog isn’t.”

“Honey, she darts,” said Tony. “When she’s as responsible as the dog, she can come off the leash.”

Morgan’s third Christmas holiday with her dog brother.

An AU where Peter is turned into a dog instead of snapped out of existence and spends that five year gap living with the Starks at their lake cabin

read part one, part two

part three after the cut, or read on ao3

“Dad!”

Tony didn’t look up from his phone, but he knew Morgan was trying to race off towards the pond for two reasons.

The first was the same reason Tony wanted to burst into song every time someone told him you’re welcome. Morgan had Moana on repeat at the cabin since she discovered it months ago. The songs never disappeared from Tony’s mind, and the desire to chase after bodies of water never disappeared from Morgan’s.

The second was more obvious. It was the leash in his hand, being pulled at and tugged on, by the three-year-old on the other end.

“Daaddd,” Morgan repeated. “Come on, I wanna go look at the water.”

Tony looked up and over at dock resting in pond. Ice chucks were breaking apart and melting, and the water glistened with sunlight poking out from behind the clouds. It was a strangely warm day for early December. The perfect sort of day for walking around their favorite park, or at least, it would’ve been if Nat wasn’t blowing up his phone with distracting text messages.

His cellphone buzzed and his screen lit up, and even though Morgan was pulled on her leash and Buddy tried to get his attention by nudging his hand with his nose, Tony felt compelled to look at them.

“Just a minute, little miss,” said Tony. He looked at Buddy and gave him the end of Morgan’s kid leash. “Here. Hold this.”

Buddy took the leash in his mouth and sat down, freeing up Tony to read Nat’s messages. They were the same as always. Nothing new. Just updates on her children’s home, on whatever that flying space girl was doing in space, on hopeless things Tony didn’t care to read about.

As a reply, he snapped a picture of Buddy holding the leash in his mouth with Morgan in the background, still trying to reach the water’s edge. He pushed send and pocketed his phone, hoping Nat would get the message. That he had better things to look at than her text messages that dwelled on the past.

He was moving and moved on. She should, too.

“Tony.”

He turned and saw Pepper marching towards them.

“You brought the leash,” said Pepper, her voice clipped, annoyed. “Our daughter is on a leash, but our dog isn’t.”

“Honey, she darts,” said Tony. “When she’s as responsible as the dog, she can come off the leash.”

Buddy barked his agreement, the leash slipping through his teeth as he did, sending Morgan tumbling to the ground in a faceplant. Tony and Pepper paused, preparing to dry tears, but Morgan just giggled, stood up and tried wiping the mud off her clothes, only smearing it around even more.

“You’re on bath duty tonight,” Pepper told him, as Tony offered her his arm and she accepted it. “For both our kids.”

Together, with Buddy following close behind, and Tony back in control of the leash that prevent Morgan from drowning herself in the pond, they finally walked over to the dock and watched the ice chucks floating in around in the water, appreciating that one sunny day December had to offer.

Tony was crouched down in front of the fireplace, adjusting fuzzy reindeer ears on top of Buddy’s head with one hand and his phone out and ready to snap a picture in his other. When they were near to perfect, Tony scooted backward and stood up. He wasn’t fast enough though, but before he could get his picture, Buddy had laid down on the floor and swiped the ears off with his front paws.

“Don’t be like that,” said Tony, crouching back down and picking up the reindeer ears. “It’s cute.”

Buddy groaned and covered his eyes with his paws.

“Don’t you wanna be a reindeer?”

Buddy huffed a growl.

“Morgan will love it.”

He uncovered his eyes and his tail slowly started to wag, and after a few seconds, he sat up and allowed Tony to readjust the ears. Buddy didn’t try taking them off that time. Just stared at Tony, looking sad and pathetic and like he’d rather be going off to a vet appointment.

“Now stay still,” said Tony. He lifted his phone back up, but just as he was clicking on his camera app, Morgan sprinted into the living room, wielding a plastic sword.

She stopped, took one look at Buddy, then ripped the ears off him. “He doesn’t like those, dad.”

Tony dropped his phone hand down to his side in defeat. With children and dogs, it was impossible to get a good picture.

“Wanna play princess dragon with me?” Morgan asked Buddy, while she whacked her father in the knees with the sword.

Buddy barked and followed her out of the room, and in spite, stepping on the reindeer ears as he trotted along after her.

They skidded across the floor, and with a sigh of defeat, Tony picked them up. He put them on his own head and settled with a selfie, hoping it was wild and ridiculous to get the message across to Nat, or at the very least, make her smile.

Putting Morgan to bed on Christmas Eve turned out to be the most difficult feat Tony had ever been tasked with.

She had ideas, about trapping Santa, and meeting the reindeers, and maybe an elf, and it didn’t matter how times Tony tried explaining to her Santa would not come until she was asleep. She was persistent. She escaped her bedroom on four different occasions armed with her plastic sword, that Tony regretted buying immensely.

“Go to sleep,” said Tony, plopping her back on her bed, after wrestling the sword away from her grip. “Or I’m telling Santa to leave you coal.”

Morgan giggled, then looked up at Tony with big, brown eyes. “Tell me a story? One about my spider brother.”

Tony never missed an opportunity to talk about Peter, so he was persuaded. At some point during the bedtime story, Buddy joined them and laid down at the end of Morgan’s bed. By the time he was finished, Morgan was drifting off, with that look in her eyes that told Tony he was hovering somewhere between awake and asleep.

“Daddy,” she said, shifting around under the blankets. “I know Pete’s in heaven, but sometimes I feel like he’s here with us.”

“Yeah, me too,” Tony told her, running a hand through her hair. “Now go to sleep, so Santa will bring the gifts.”

Morgan’s eyes finally fell shut, for real, that time. Tony could tell by her breathing, and how peaceful she looked, that this wasn’t another fake-out.

He took a few seconds. Watched her chest moving up and down, then left her room and headed to the kitchen, with Buddy following close behind him.

Tony went straight for Santa’s cookies, savoring every bite, until he realized Buddy was sat in the middle of the kitchen floor. Staring at him.

“What?” asked Tony. He waged a half-eaten cookie at him “Don’t give me that look. You’re old enough to know these were never really for Santa.”

Buddy barked, loud and mad.

“Hey, quiet it down,” said Tony, in a low voice. “I just got the gremlin to sleep.”

Buddy made a low noise Tony interrupted as a grumble, and laid down on the floor, looking up at him with sad eyes. It was all that talk about Peter. Sometimes Tony forget just how much Buddy missed him, too.

Tony put his cookie back down on the plate and crouched down next to his dog, massaging his ears.

“What do you wanna do, huh? Wanna go out for burgers? At our spot?”

Their diner probably wasn’t open on Christmas Eve, but Tony could break in. Grill his own burgers. He could do that. For Buddy.

Buddy jumped up and darted out of the room. When he came back, he had his favorite, bright yellow tennis ball in his mouth. His tail was wagging. He was giving Tony big, brown puppy dog eyes.

“Ok, fine,” said Tony. “Let me get my coat.”

Tony suited up with snow boots and coat, then headed outside, in the frigid, winter air. He snowman him, Morgan, and Pepper made was still standing over by the icy lake. His nose was missing. Tony suspected Gerald. That little shit.

Buddy dropped his tennis ball and ran to the side of the house, forcing Tony to stick his hand into the freeze to pick it up and clog through the snow to follow him.

The dog finally stopped once he got to a clear patch of snow, on the side of the yard Morgan had yet to trample through. He dug his nose around in the fresh snow, and it took Tony a few seconds to realize Buddy wasn’t just playing in the snow. He was drawing something.

Once his was finished, he sneezed snow off his nose, and sat down, his tail wagging back and forth as he looked up at Tony, like a childhood showing off a crayon drawing.

Tony’s breath caught. In the snow, he had written the word Underoos, with a backwards R and an upside-down E. Had Tony ever referred to Peter as Underoos around Buddy? Tony couldn’t remember, but he must have, because that was the only explanation he could wrap his mind around.

“I always knew you were a genius, boy,” said Tony. “I – I know, I really miss him, too.”

Buddy groaned, again, and his tail stopped wagging. He walked over and nudged Tony’s hand, the one that held the ball.

They fell into a rhythm under the bright, winter stars, in the calm of Christmas Eve. Throw, run, return, repeat. Each time Buddy ran back with the ball was one more time he trampled over the writing he’d made in the snow. He was back and forth, back and forth, until it was unreadable, until it was no more.

Tony walked into his bedroom and was assaulted by Christmas music, wrapping paper, and bows.

Pepper stood over their bed, ripping shiny blue wrapping paper off a dog toy Tony had tried to wrap according to her standard, but obviously, had failed. She gave him a look as he had walked closer and threw the Yoda dog toy at him. It hit his chest, squeaked, then fell to the floor by his feet, forcing Tony to pick it up.

“How many of those did you buy?” asked Pepper, a slight smile on her lips. She could pretend to be outraged by Tony spoiling both their child and their dog with toys on Christmas, but Tony knew she loved him for it.

“He needs the whole set,” said Tony, sinking down on their bed, causing heaps of torn wrapping paper to crinkle under him. He put Yoda down in the pile of other Star War toys Pepper had yet to wrap.

Most were dog toys for Buddy, but there were a few plastic lightsabers for Morgan, too.

“Yeah. The same way Morgan needed an alpaca.”

“She didn’t,” said Tony. “Gerald needed us.”

Gerald the alpaca joined their family of misfits on Morgan’s third birthday. She had wanted a petting zoo for her party, and had gotten one, and when she overheard the employees talking about sending Gerald off to an early retirement, she’d convinced Tony to write a check.

Tony had Gerald less than a day before they out figured why the petting zoo workers didn’t think he was fit to work. Gerald was a pain in his ass, so naturally, him and Buddy and Morgan all became fast friends.

“Tony, seriously?” asked Pepper. She unwrapped the red and gold, Iron Man, dog sweater. “You’re never going to get this thing on him.”

“Sure I will.”

“May I remind you of the time you tried getting him to wear a sweater?”

“That was different,” said Tony, snatching the dog sweater away from her and holding it up to see the Iron Man emblem and trying not to have flashbacks of a shredded AC/DC sweater. “He clearly has bad taste in music, but this… Pete will love this.”

After a few beats passed, and Pepper didn’t say anything, Tony lowered the sweater and looked at her. She was staring at him. With concern. A look in her eyes that was familiar, but one he hadn’t seen for years.

“What?”

“You know… you know that Buddy isn’t Peter, right?” she asked him, carefully. “That Peter’s gone?”

“What? Yeah, yeah of course,” said Tony. “Because that would be… just… ridiculous. That would be ridiculous.”

Pepper eyed him with suspicion, as if she didn’t quite believe him, but then, the moment passed, and she fixed him with a small smile. She took the sweater back from him and laid it flat on the bed, beginning to wrap it with precision only she could manage.

“Where’s Buddy, anyway?” she asked. “He’s being too quiet. It’s scaring me.”

A valid question, and even more valid concern. Every other night they wrapped presents, Buddy was outside the door, whining or trying to claw his way in. He was worse than a literal child about wanting to catch a peak of his presents early.

Tony stood up off the bed and walked over to the window. Down below, Buddy was visible, running around in the snow, near the icy lake, and near where Gerald was stood inside his stable. Buddy had refused to come back inside after Tony had decided he’d had enough of throwing the ball around. Almost as if his grief for Peter had turned into anger towards him.

“Running around,” answered Tony. “Blowing off some steam.”

He turned back in time to see Pepper fold the wrapping paper over the Iron Man sweater. Maybe he’d wait a couple of days before trying to make him wear it and snapping a picture. Maybe he’d wait until Buddy’s anger melted away with the snow.

Christmas morning turned Tony’s living room into a disaster zone. Torn wrapping paper laid about in piles, empty boxes and shiny new toys, both for dog and for child, were spread out all over. The toys went ignored, though, while Buddy rustled around in the wrapping paper and Morgan was sat inside a giant box, pretending she was a spaceship and about to shoot lasers into the Death Star.

They watched too much Star Wars in their house. Pete would be proud.

After they were done playing with the trash, Morgan and Buddy settled down on the couch and watched Morgan’s latest obsession, Frozen. She stretched out, used the dog as her pillow, and tapped her foot on the cushion to the beat of the songs. They were both distracted, and so Tony and Pepper saw the perfect opportunity to rid their living room of paper and cardboard.

Tony left the spaceship box behind, though, when he and Pepper bundled all the trash together to take out back to the waste bins. He’d never survive the whining if he didn’t.

It didn’t take them long to dispose of the trash. Just a few minutes, and then another few minutes on top of that to make the hot chocolate and put some cookies on a plate. Ten minutes, tops, but tragedies have happened in less time than that.

When they returned, there was a chill in the house. Their front door was sitting wide open.

“Morgan?” asked Tony, hurrying in the living room. He peaked over the top of the couch and saw, or didn’t see, exactly what he feared.

There was no daughter, no dog. Just Frozen playing for an empty room.

Tony was outside in seconds, with Pepper rushing along beside him. His sock covered feet tore through the snow, towards the lake, where he knew, without looking, that’s where Morgan had gone. When he did look up, when he finally forced himself to see, it was another fear confirmed.

Buddy and Morgan were in the lake. Morgan, with her arms locked around Buddy’s neck, and Buddy, trying to keep his head above the water, dog paddling with all the strength of a golden retriever.

Tony and Pepper both arrived at the water’s edge just as Buddy carried Morgan out of the lake. She was lifted up, and straight into Pepper’s arms, shivering, teeth chattering, too cold and scared to even cry.

“Mom - mommy,” she said, then coughed. “I’m sorry, I wanted to be like Elsa and walk on the ice, but I fell through.”

Tony looked dog as Buddy emerged from the water, slow and sluggish, whining a little.

“Please don’t be mad.”

“We’re not mad,” said Tony. He tore his eyes away from Buddy and put his hand through his daughter’s freezing, soaking hair. “Just promise, never again?”

“I promise. Is.. is Buddy going to be okay?”

“He’s going to be fine,” Pepper told her, killing the panic in not just Morgan, but also Tony. He didn’t know how she did it, how she remained so calm in terrifying situations. “Daddy’s going to take care of him while I get you all dried off, okay?”

“O-okay.” She clung onto to Pepper, borrowing her head in her neck.

Tony crouched down where Buddy lay in the snow, wrapped his arms around him and picked him up, carrying him as he trailed after Pepper back into the cabin. Once inside, she took Morgan upstairs, and Tony carefully placed Buddy in front of the fireplace before leaving him, just for a few seconds, to get some towels and on an impulse, Pepper’s hair dryer.

Buddy was still lying scarily still when Tony hurried back and began the hard work of getting him dry. He whined a little, and whimpered, when he watched Tony plug the hair dryer in, but didn’t try to escape. He stayed perfectly still as Tony dried him, and as Tony’s thoughts run wild with the worse possible version of that Christmas day.

He could’ve lost everything. In ten minutes. Two thirds of his world. Gone. Just like that. Just like snapping a finger.

Tony switched the hair dryer off and ran his hand across Buddy’s back. He was warm. He was dry. He was still breathing.

He let out a breath and closed his eyes, only blinking them open when he felt a paw on his knee. Buddy stared up at him, all wide brown eyes that stabbed at Tony’s chest, that threatened him with a truth Tony wasn’t ready to face.

He broke eye contact, and instead, rubbed the top of Buddy’s head.

“You glory hound,” said Tony. “You just can’t stop saving people, huh?”

Buddy responded with a bark. A real one. Something Tony needed to hear to fully understand that Buddy was truly okay.

He stood up, sudden, causing Tony to fall back on the palm of his hands, just watching as Buddy ran across the room, grabbed the red Iron Man dog sweater between his teeth, and ran back over. He dropped it in front of Tony, sat down, and looked at him expectantly.

“Is this a joke? Because that’s bad for an old man’s heart.”

Buddy barked at him, then nudged the sweater closer to him with his nose.

Tony smiled and pulled the sweater over him, lifting him up and helping him put his front two legs through the sleeves.

“I gotta say, boy,” said Tony. “Red’s your color. Wanna go show Pep? Can you believe she said you wouldn’t wear it?”

Buddy barked again and followed Tony up the stairs, his tail wagging as they went.

The next morning started the day Pepper gave up buying dog food and trying to get Buddy to eat it. She grilled him a steak for breakfast and let him eat at the table. He sat next to Morgan as she sipped the milk from her cereal. He wore his Iron Man sweater, and Morgan wore her Christmas pajamas.

Another perfect opportunity to snap a picture.

He took it, and for once, it didn’t get ruined.

Tony sent it to Nat, who finally decided to respond with something that wasn’t related to Avenger’s business.

cute dog

#irondad #irondad fic #Tony stark #Peter parker #irondad bingo #for peter #Peter is a dog #Peter Parker is a little shit #Tony Stark needs a hug

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writingismyhappytime · 4 years

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I'm thankful for friends, making new friends, meeting the band in two weeks, and road trips ❤️ hope this works in a magical way as a fic

You squeeze your arms around Chris, a warm, fuzzy feeling settling over your shoulders as you look around the home you’ve made together. It’s perfectly decorated for the holidays, much to his dismay, but it’s important to you to get into the spirit. You want to wake up every day to the smell of gingerbread candles or pumpkin spice, shove your feet into warm slippers and walk into a livingroom prepared for Christmas despite Halloween was two days ago.

“This is going to be such a good year,” you say excitedly, pleased at the Christmas tree looming in the corner of the room, decorated in reds and golds on one side, blacks and silvers on the other --- neither of you could agree on the colors, so you compromised.

Honestly? You kind of like it, it shows both of your personalities, both of your tastes.

“You’re not going to try to get out of meeting my parents this time, right?” You ask after a moment, twitching your eyes up at the tall black-haired man beside you who was looking at his phone rather than at the decorations you’ve been laboring over for days.

“Last time was an accident,” he mumbles defensively; it’s not his fault that there was an emergency band meeting about the album that he sort of planned as a way to get out of meeting your very country-bumpkin parents for the first time. He just knows they’re not going to like him, and you’ve only been dating a year! Isn’t it a little fast to meet the family just yet?

Sure, you might be living together, you have for the last six months, but that’s different! Sure, you might also be in one of his music videos, and on one of his bank accounts just in case there’s an emergency, but --- well, those things had all seemed natural to happen at the time! No rush, no force, not like this whole parents thing.

It makes him uncomfortable.

He’s an adult, technically old enough to be a parent himself now, but that doesn’t make the impending situation any less doom-filled. Maybe he can say one of the band broke their leg and he has to go to the hospital, and make one of them limp around for six months in a cast when you’re around. That seems like a more logical thing to do, actually, maybe Ricky would ---.

“Chris.”

“Yeah?”

“Stop plotting for a way out of this,” you wag your finger firmly at him as you step away, gathering errant tinsel decorating his black livingroom suite. “You can’t bail on me this time, I won’t allow it. I don’t care if someone is dying, you’re meeting my folks.”

Folks.

“Ugh.”

“Do I have too?” He grumbles unhappily, sitting down heavily in the armchair, grimacing as he realizes he’s squishing Rudolph. He’s not near as into the holiday spirit as you are, and it sort of irks him to come home and see all this nonsense hanging around, but you were just so excited to decorate he couldn’t exactly tell you no. He frowns down at the reindeer he holds in his tattooed hands, the bright red nose he has the sudden urge to rip off.

“They’ve been wanting to meet you for a long time, Chris, so yes! We’ve been together over a year now!’

Not quite a year, Chris thinks. He tosses Rudolph away from him, not caring where he lands as he looks at you. “Yes, but we don’t want to rush anything. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind giving us more time before they meet me.”

“Are you afraid of my parents?” You frown at him, garland hanging from your neck as you try to gather your holiday supplies. You have some glitter on you from who knows what, some ornaments are hanging off your fingers by their delicate strings, and under one arm is apparently sticks you can buy to apparently stuff the tree and make it look fuller? He’d never heard of such a thing before. “Is big bad frontman of a metal band afraid of meeting two old people? My mom crochets and my dad runs the local bingo, they’re not exactly feral.”

You look... amused.

Chris face sours. “I am not afraid of meeting them! I just --- well, I don’t know. It just seems soon. Why don’t we wait another year?”

“Why? Do you plan on breaking up with me sometime next year?” You quirk a brow at him curiously, slowly putting your ornaments away. “Is that why you don’t want to meet them?”

“No.” Chris squirms.

“They’re just people, Chris, you meet new ones every day! There’s nothing different and nothing to be worried about,” you sound exasperated, struggling too get the tinsel off of you and into the designated box.

“But it’s different,” he replies, getting to his feet to help you. He lifts the tinsel off of you, tossing it into the box already overflowing with decor. "It's your people."

"They're going to like you," you say, brushing at your ugly, obnoxious cat sweater. He swears you've pulled out a box that has a sweater for every single day until the holiday, and now you're talking about making him wear some! He does have a reputation to uphold! Although, it would be a funny card to send out, both of you wearing horrid looking sweaters.

Actually, that would be cute, he's not quite so opposed now.

"Are you sure they're not going to think I'm the devil luring their little girl to the dark side?"

You roll your eyes. "No. If anything, I think I'm more devious than you are, you just look the part. Don't let my cat sweater fool you, Mr. Cerulli, I'm quite the devil myself."

"Oh really? Chris chuckles, feeling your arms curling tightly around his waist again as you snuggle into him. He holds you, giving you a light squeeze as he presses his lips into your hair.

Yeah, still doesn't want to meet your parents.

Still will try to find a way out of it.

Just won't mention that detail to you.

"Oh, and when we sit down at Thanksgiving, we have this tradition of going around the table saying what we're thankful for because we really are that basic, but you're going to have to play long. Say something cheesy, my mom will love that," you say, your voice muffled by his shirt. "It doesn't matter if you really mean it or not, but that'll make them like you more. Which I also don't think you have anything to worry about. My mom keeps telling everyone she slept with a member of Motley Crue back in the day, so I don't know how true that is or not, but be prepared for that story since she knows you're in a band."

Chris chuckles, his lips curving. "Sleeping with the band runs in the family, huh?"

"You could say that." You reply, shrugging your shoulders. You nudge him until he's taking a few steps back, falling back into the armchair still warm from his occupation earlier. You sit down in his lap, curling your cold toes against his leg as you snuggle into him, his warm arms keeping you against him. "Do you want to practice what you're thankful for?"

"Not really."

"Oh, come on," you shuffle a little, letting your head rest against his black-clad shoulder. "Humor me."

Hmph.

"I'm thankful for --- you being my girlfriend. Baking lots of cookies, making it smell girly as fuck in here at all times." Chris glances dubiously at all the lit candles.

"Well, there's a start," you bite your lower lip, cheeks pinkening. He started off so well.

"I'm thankful for --- all that we have together," you say after a moment. "Our apartment, the things we do together."

Oh, are you going back and forth now? Crap, what else can he be thankful for?

"Uhh --- I'm thankful for... um... I don't know." he grimaces. This is a lot harder than expected. What is he thankful for? He tries to think, but his mind is just completely blank.

"Well, I'll go again. I'm thankful for friends, making new friends," you chew your lip thoughtfully. "Meeting the band in two weeks." You haven't met any of them, not because you don't want too, your life is just busy and they're his work buddies, you don't think it's important to meet them until he wants you too --- turns out now he does, which made you so happy to know he wants you more involved in his life! "And road trips."

"Road trips?"

"Yep. We're taking one next year, remember? You might have got to see all fifty states, but I'm still lacking seven of them! I need to finish my tshirt collection."

Oh god.

Chris forgot about that.

"I can always buy you one when I go through the state."

"It's not the same! I want to see it for myself. You did promise me, remember?" You boop his nose lightly with your finger, amused when his pale cheeks turn bright pink. "I want us to go together for the experience. It'll be fun. You can take a week off work, and we can just spend it together."

Ahuh.

"Like... are we driving or flying?"

"Well, we can rent an RV, really spend some close time together," you say, pretending to be thoughtful and not ignore his horrified look. "You remember that movie with Robin Williams? It'll kind of be an adventure like that! It'll be fun!"

Absolutely not.

Chris has not sunk that low!

"Doesn't he get run over by the RV?"

"I'm sure you'll be fine, honey." you pat his shoulder reassuringly.

Chris sighs.

Sure he will.

"You know what else I'm thankful for?" You say after a moment, snuggled in his lap in your warm sweater, his arms keeping away the chill of the room. You love little, simple moments like this when it's just the two of you, when it's quiet and peaceful, all you're missing is the crackling of an open fire.

"What's that?"

"You." You press a soft kiss against his chin, smiling. "Putting up with me and my holiday obsession, letting me decorate this space and tease you about RV's but going along with it anyway. I love you, and you're important to me, I'm so thankful that I met you and that we've been able to spend all this time together."

Chris blinks, his cheeks a nice rosy hue as he absorbs your words.

"How am I supposed to top that?" He mumbles, and you smile warmly at him, snuggling close again.

"You're not supposed too, so long as you feel the same."

His arms around you tighten. "I definitely feel the same."

He gives it a moment, then, "But were you serious about the RV thing? Because we can seriously just fly to whatever state you want to start in and rent a car or something."

"Well, I'll guess we'll find out next year when we start planning for our trip, won't we?" You say lightly, drawing circles with your fingertips along the lines of his dark shirt. "After you meet my parents."

He frowns.

Why do you have to keep reminding him about that?

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emptycanoflizards · 5 years

Note

Parkner snowed in at Avengers compound?

I fell in love with this prompt. It ended up being over 2000 words...

The night seemed like a dream to Peter. He was surrounded by his childhood heroes (Whom he had been with consecutively for the past two weeks almost, yet he still couldn’t get over it), cuddled up next to his biggest crush, wearing Christmas pajamas, and watching Christmas movies over a giant fireplace. There was just no way this was real! Of course, this wasn’t quite how the night was supposed to go. Originally, Natasha and Clint were due to go out of town tonight, Steve, Bucky, and Sam were going to go grocery shopping and grab dinner for everyone, Stephen was supposed to go back home, and Harley and Tony “Probably had some work to do or something.”But the snow came down hard, flights got canceled, roads were closed, Stephen just didn’t want to go home, and Peter had an awfully convincing look in his eyes that one particular blond couldn’t deny. All of which led to quite an amazing night of being snowed in.

The group decided to come together and cook dinner that night since it hadn’t happened in quite a long time. Natasha taught Peter and Harley how to make Kutya, which was a type of thick pudding made of lots of sweet stuff that made Pete really excited. She taught them, after a fond glance around, that it symbolizes unity in families. After it was finished, the boys got to throw a spoonful of the pudding onto the ceiling to see their futures. Harley’s spoonful stuck, which was supposed to mean that a plentiful honey harvest was to be expected, though, he didn’t keep bees, so he had no idea what it really meant. Peter’s, on the other hand, dripped onto his nose after being tossed up. The older boy let out a snort and stepped closer to carefully wipe the dish off his face. “Guess you’ll just have to share my harvest, then,” he added quietly, as though it was just some secret between the two, which made Peter’s stomach do flip as he nodded back in agreement. Next to them at the stove, Steve and Bucky were trying to figure out how to make a meatloaf that Steve’s mother used to make them back in the day but seemed to be having little success, seeing as there was now ketchup and oats all over their side of the counter. But both of them were smiling so much that no one really wanted to step in and help. Sam was across from them, meticulously cutting out a mix of sugar cookies and chocolate chip cookies into little Christmas shapes. Before they started cooking, he had boldly claimed that he could make the best Christmas cookies in the world, to which almost everyone challenged him on, because Stephen had brought home Wong’s cookies before, and everyone was convinced that those were other-worldly because of how good they were. Tony and Stephen were in their own little world by now as they put together a selection of drinks, including eggnog and holiday punch, both spiked and unspiked. They were in a deep conversation about which country had the best Christmas traditions, and which ones Tony was sober enough to remember, back in the day. Amazing how the man had changed. Clint, as though supervising everyone, wandered around to take pictures of everyone as they worked. It was rare that everyone got together to do something like this, and despite missing a few people, he absolutely had to document everything for later viewing. It was about an hour later that everyone had finished the dishes they were working on and finally sat down at the scarcely used dining room table. Harley had put on a playlist of Christmas songs, which ended up hardly being heard over the constant shouts and laughter of the conversation. They ended up realizing that no one here actually celebrated Christmas, even though the compound was decked out in decor, Christmas tree and everything. Steve had tried to argue that he was still a very fine Christian boy, but almost everyone agreed that they had heard, walked in, or seen the aftermath of activities with Bucky that absolutely no God was involved in, and he quickly surrendered with a guilty laugh. Sometime later, it had grown dark outside, everyone felt full and warm and fuzzy, and the snow continued to fall. Steve stood up and began to collect people’s plates when Peter piped up and suggested they all watch a movie. Everyone was in complete agreement, and voting went down without a hassle, unanimous agreement upon Elf for their first movie. So the Heros and such went back to their rooms quickly to change into more comfortable clothes while Tony set up the projector in the living room. Peter was off in a flash, just excited to get back and start the movie. Harley trailed behind him, laughing softly at how fast the younger boy moved. He had already changed and was waiting outside Peter’s door when the other came out, dressed in a pair of reindeer pajama pants and a Midtown High sweatshirt, which just so happened to counter Harley’s own Christmas tree pants and Rose Hill High t-shirt. “Well look at you, handsome!” He said, looking over him with a smile as soon as he stepped into the hall. The blush on Peter’s cheeks was obvious even in the dim light of the hallway, which only made the older smile wider. “I like your pants,” Peter responded, giggling softly as he looked down at them. They were pretty ridiculous; they each had a different set of eyes on them and had little speech bubbles next to them, aggressively shouting different Christmas phrases. “Thanks,” Harley responded with a chuckle. “Clint got them for me a year or two ago. We were supposed to get each other pajamas, so I got him a Pikachu onesie, and he got me these-”“That's where that came from?! He never would tell me!” He exclaimed, his smile lighting up even more. “I always thought he got it himself and didn’t want to admit it!” Harley shook his head, chuckling softly as he started walking towards the elevator. “Nope, all me. I’m really the mastermind behind his sense of fashion.” A piece of his blond hair fell across his forehead as he stopped to press the button and Peter had to consciously restrain himself from reaching up and pushing it back into place. Above the two boys, the rest of the Avengers were already set up with buckets of popcorn and kettle corn, mugs full of hot cocoa, cider, and eggnog, and blankets to spare. The previews before the movie were already starting, despite everyone still milling around and getting comfortable. By the time Harley and Peter got back to the living room, Bucky was laying across Steve with a bucket of popcorn nestled under his arm, his eyes focused intently on the screen, Sam was on the other end of the couch, slowly inching Bucky’s legs off of him with a glass of cider in his hands. Strange was in the corner, floating with a blanket around his shoulders and kettle corn in his lap, Natasha and Clint were sitting on the other loveseat, still arguing happily over how they were intending to sit, and Tony had disappeared into the kitchen. This seating arrangement left the boys to sit in front of the couches with the cushions on the ground. Neither of them saw this as a problem, as Harley plopped down on one and opened his arms for Peter to come and join him. Without thinking, the brunet sat down and leaned into his embrace, earning a soft, satisfied hum from Harley. He carefully shrugged a blanket around them and leaned back against the couch that Natasha and Clint had finally gotten comfortable with. Peter ended up laying his head on Harley’s shoulder, which he didn’t think about until the other boy started carefully playing with his hair. His cheeks flushed red, but he didn’t move an inch, deciding that this was just what he needed at the moment. Steve and Bucky were the first to retire that night, about halfway through the movie (right when Jody and Buddy go on their date), claiming that it had been a long day, and sleep was necessary. Next was Strange, coincidentally at the same time that they noticed Tony shuffling down towards the elevator. He left with no explanation right after the beginning of Love Actually, which was Clint's choice, for the record. A quarter of the way through the movie, Sam got up to hit the hay, which was right around the same time that Peter could hear Natasha’s breath even out, signifying that she had fallen asleep. Harley continued to make fun of the movie characters in a hushed tone, earning a good amount of quiet laughs from Peter, especially when he added whichever Avenger left next to his list of people to tease. By the time Clint picked Natasha up to carry her to her room, the boys had made a makeshift blanket tent over themselves and were giggling about god knows what. The older man just let out a chuckle and turned on some Christmas music as to not distract the boys. It wasn’t until later when Peter realized he only heard two heartbeats in the room instead of four or more, that they realized that they were alone. It was then that he realized just how close the two had gotten. Their noses were nearly touching under the blanket, which made his cheeks turn light pink. Harley glanced down at his cheeks, at least Peter thought it was at his cheeks, and chuckled softly. “Need some air?” he asked, motioning to the blanket that was now surrounding them. Apparently, Peter’s laugh wasn’t a good enough response for him, as Harley tossed the blanket off of them and scooted off of the couch. He offered his hand to him with a smug smile on his lips. Peter took it with a confused expression on his face, and let out a little yelp when Harley suddenly pulled him closer. He wrapped his arm softly around his waist and brought him so they were almost chest to chest. Peter’s cheeks were aflame now, much to Harley’s amusement. “Do ya know how to dance?” he asked in a low tone. The younger shook his head, his eyes glued to Harley’s blue ones, which only seemed bright with the reflection of the fireplace in them. “No.. Never really something I thought to learn about..” He let out a chuckle that seemed to warm Peter’s insides. “Smartest person I know, and you never learned how to slow dance? Seems fake. But then again, neither did I..” He started swaying them softly back and forth to the music, smiling down at the younger boy. He looked so beautiful in the lighting of the fire; it was almost un-earthy how the light of the fire played off of his dark curls, and how the shadows seemed to catch his cheeks at just the right angles. What really seemed perfect was when he carefully laid his head on the older boy’s chest, sighing softly. “Whatcha thinking about, Petey?” He asked, his voice just over a whisper. Peter shook his head and closed his eyes. “Nothing, really. What about you, Harles?” His grip around his waist seemed to tense up a little, but he let out a breath and it went back to how it was the second before. “Well… There's this boy,” he started, the usual confidence that resided in his voice seems to disappear for the time being. “And I can’t stop thinking about him. Haven’t been able to for a while. He’s super smart and super cute, and I really like cuddling and dancing with him. All that cheesy shit. And he’s a really good cook and he chooses really good movies to watch, and… I dunno, Petey. I can’t get this boy out of my head…” Peter didn’t move, other than to continue to sway to the music. He knew his own heart was beating at an unusually fast rate, but he could also hear how nervous Harley was. Was this real? Did Harley actually mean him? A million thoughts ran through his head as he listened to Harley’s heartbeat. He had liked him for what felt like forever. Since the first time Tony had introduced them in the lab almost two years ago now. The way that Harley was confident with everything that he did but caring enough to take a step back and make sure that it was okay. How chaotic he was but in such an effective, good way. How comfortable he seemed to make Peter feel, no matter the situation; he always made him feel safe and taken care of around Harley. He realized how badly he wanted to kiss him over a year ago, and from there it was just a downhill spiral for Peter. But it was around that time that Harley had gotten more affectionate too. There was more cuddling during movies, more hugs when they saw each other again after a long time, more accidental touching when they were cooking. But Peter had always passed it up as Harley getting more comfortable around him. Purely platonic. But was it?He felt Harley shift above him, looking down at him, nervously, almost. “I… I was thinking about telling this guy, ya know? But I don’t know if he would feel the same… Whatcha think?” he whispered, trying to keep his voice steady. “I-I think.. I think that this boy would be an-an idiot not to take you.. I think h-he would be really excited. I think he’s probably been waiting a long time to hear this..” Peter whispered back, not taking his head off his chest, mainly out of anxiety. Harley paused for a second, his heart racing. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then looked back down at him. “Peter?” he asked, trying to get the brunet to look up at him. After their eyes met, he knew he couldn’t do anything else. Harley leaned down and brushed his lips tentatively against Peter’s, just testing the water. What he didn’t expect was for Peter to kiss right back. When their lips connected, it felt like everything was right in the world. Like nothing could go wrong, ever again. Neither of them ever wanted the moment to end. But after a second, the blond broke off, looking down at him with a nervous smile. “I… so uh… Wi-will.. Peter..?” He asked, still holding him tight as he stuttered. Peter only nodded, but he wasn’t sure if it was an answer or just encouragement. “Will you.. Do you uh.. Do you want to be my boyfriend?”Peter let out a small laugh and nodded more, this time it obviously being an answer. “Yes, you dork. I’d be stupid not to say yes!” Harley let out a breathy laugh as all the tension seemed to leave his body at his answer. “Holy shit..” he whispered, earning an equal laugh from the other. “Yeah… good holy shit, right?” “Fantastic holy shit,” He murmured, smiling softly at him, before ducking down and pressing another soft kiss to his lips.

#parkner #harley keener x peter parker #parkner fic #harley keener/peter parker #peter Parker #harley keener #marvel #avengers #domestic avengers

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secret-rendezvous1d · 5 years

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D E C E M B E R 3 R D

REQUEST what about pornstar harry making a festive christmas special w y/n?

So.

Here we have it.

The first smutty Blogmas story for you all to read!

You all know, by know, that smut is far from my strongest forte on here. I lack something that I can’t put my finger on and I can never be as good as some of the smut writers on here; I aspire to but I never think I can reach that level of talent.

I’m not sure where this came from, and there’s a jumble of other pieces that I’ve written in here - that have been adapted to fit the storyline, of course! - but I’m pretty proud of this and only hope that you guys like it as much as I do. It’s an impressive piece, for 5k+, for someone who doesn’t usually do smut so your feedback will mean the most to me on this Blogmas prompt.

Feedback is welcomed, as always - please let me know what you think of my pieces, send me any constructive criticism you think would help out, any ways to make my writing better, anything. It really helps me and keeps me motivated to write and we get to work as a team to make things better, for me to write and for you to read.

Enjoy. xx

D e c e m b e r 4 t h , 2 0 1 8

“Look at you, eh?”

His lips quirked into a sheepish grin as he bashfully looked down at his loafers and let his shoulder-bag drop to the floor beside his feet. A bang echoing around the room as the leather hit the floorboards and whatever was tucked beneath the buckled flap must have been heavy, she guessed. The address that they had been sent, by their agents just a few days prior to the date, hadn’t exactly lead them both to a room that was located at the bottom of the complex; probably something to do with eagle-eyed viewers zooming in with camera phones through the window because it had happened before, in shoots that she, thankfully, hadn’t been involved in and it was something they wished to keep from happening. He looked beautifully festive for the fourth of December, dressed in a hideous Christmas jumper (with fuzzy Santa beards ironed into the wool and bobble hats knitted into the material in a consecutive manner) and a pair of grey, tweed trousers, with a Christmas pudding beanie tucked over his unruly locks. Which, in her opinion, had topped the whole outfit off.

Him as her boyfriend and her as his girlfriend?

Even though they’d known each other for less than a few months? Not really considering themselves as best buddies, who hung out all the time and arrived on each others door steps like they lived there too, but were far from being the acquaintances that they once were.

Had she thought about couple-y things including him?

Cooking together and welcoming their families into her home because his university dorm was far too small to hold everyone inside? Was he a good cook or was he the type of man who chose microwave meals over cooking from fresh? Dancing to the jingling melody of Christmas songs, singing together in the car as they drove down streets lined with homes decorated with an array of Christmas lights and fake Santa’s, and kissing under the mistletoe that he secretly carried around in his pocket? Having sex, without a camera crew to record their every move, in front of an open fire and drinking warm eggnog and hot chocolates whilst feasting on marshmallows and watching Elf?

Would he take her back to Manchester so she could meet the woman who he spoke so fondly of? Would he agree to meet her family or would he feel out of place? She didn’t think he would because he seemed up for anything that life threw at him but... would he chicken out if she suggested that? Travelling to Hyde Park on the tube, dressed in multiple layers that kept the cold out, so they could visit Winter Wonderland and surround themselves with people who loved the festive holidays? Helping him decorate his university room and getting the grand tour of where he studied when he wasn’t showing off his wonders to the camera?

Of course she had... she had done for some time know... and she loved it.

“What?” His eyes widened as he took note of the amused look that knitted her features together, “I haven’t gone overboard with the whole festive look, have I? There’s this ugly-jumper day at my university today and this was the ugliest one I had in my cupboards. Saved me having to go out and buy one from the shops,” he snorted and hid his hands underneath the sleeves that hung low and practically already covered his ring-clad fingers, “I wondered why people were giving me strange looks in the-”

“No way, Harry. You look incredible. So amazing,” YN grinned widely and tightened the silk belt around her waist, stopping the flaps from opening as she stood from the plush queen-sized mattress she had occupied whilst on her own. Leaving her phone behind, with a screen that still showed a Twitter account that she seemed deep in scrolling through, she welcomed him to the set - the empty set that was still anticipating the arrival of their agents, camera-people and the set officiants that kept the area in order and free of passersby who may have stumbled upon the wrong room - with stretched out arms to envelope him in a hug and. His lips connecting with her cheek in a soft greeting and she was pleased her face soon hid in the hollow of his neck so she could hide the blush on her cheeks. “You smell like cinnamon, too.”

“My mum sent me this aftershave that she saw in a shop back in Cheshire. Wrote me a letter, because she’s so old-fashioned and texts are too new-school for her, and she said that she thought of me when she smelt it because I’ve always loved the smell of cinnamon,” he chuckled lightly and squeezed her body to his chest. The silk kimono, that barely covered the skin of her upper thighs and, due to the white colour of it, was see-through under the right right, was smooth underneath his fingertips and he couldn’t seem to stop himself from rubbing her back. “You smell lovely, too.”

“I never said you smelt lovely,” she teased and mentally scolded herself because, as he strained away from her, his body heat had left her abruptly and she felt a chill in the air that she was sure hadn’t been there when she arrived. A playful frown pinching his features as he looked down at her. “I’m joking with you, H. You smell absolutely gorgeous.”

His laugh was like music to her ears and a smile was all she could give him.

Regrettably, he unlatched his arms from around her, because she was soft and cuddly, warm and inviting and, if he could have things his way, he would have held her until the day was over, and took a tiny step away from her. A step that left a gap that allowed him to take a twirl to take in the room.

“They’re not going to make me dress like Santa Claus or anything for this project, are they?”

“We can boycott if they make us dress in anything that looks remotely ridiculous. I’m not making myself look silly,” she gave him a wink and backed away from him. The backs of her legs coming into contact with the bed was the touch she needed in order to fall back onto the plush mattress. “I’m not dressing like an elf or a reindeer or whatever else they come up with. And, I can’t stress this one enough; and I am not fucking a Santa Claus. I draw the line at role-play.”

“I think you’d look pretty fit as an elf. A reindeer, not so much, but an elf,” he smiled smugly and lifted his hand up from his side, the tip of his thumb and the tip of his finger connecting and pinching and he pressed a kiss to where his fingers joined - a gesture that was something he’d picked up from an Italian restaurant, in Italy, on a family holiday that wasn’t that long ago - “you’d definitely look fit. I’d still fuck you.”

“To be honest, I’d probably still fuck you if you dressed like Santa. Big belly and all,” she teased, cackling towards the ceiling before turning her head to look at him, “I’m glad it’s you I’m doing this with. The best Christmas present this hellish job can ever give me.”

“If we could get things started, that would be great.”

A middle-aged man, with a bald-head and a soul-patch underneath his bottom lip, had spoken. Neither YN nor Harry had met him before this project, even though YN had heard of him through many other connections that came with the job. Catching the attention of everyone that was loitering in the room and passing the time with idle discussion amongst themselves, informally telling people who knew who they were, who didn’t need to be in the room whilst filming commenced, that they needed to leave the room. From across the space, and settled at a table on the other side of the bed, Harry snapped his head in YN’s direction with an excited grin forming his lips, soon disappearing, seconds later, behind the wrist of the make-up artist who was spreading powdered foundation across his cheeks. Not that he needed any makeup because he was flawless and there wasn’t a single mark, acne scar or blemish upon his olive skin.

“Let’s get things rolling now, please,” he waved his hands in the air as a bundle of people pushed through the space of the door. Looking over his shoulder, he made sure those he had asked to be part of his skeleton-crew were in the correct positions and ready to go; that the cameras were in the right place, that the lighting was set on the correct mood and had the correct tones in check and that the microphones and boom-mics were held high enough and out of shot but still close enough to capture the moans and mewls that Harry and YN would fill the room with. Nodding to himself, pleasingly, before turning on his heels. “The general basis that we have is to start with YN giving Harry a blowjob that will then roll into Harry eating YN out and then we finish off with full penetration. But feel free to go with whatever you think fits the moment; you both know how this works by now.”

The floorboards creaked underneath Harry’s weight as he carried a fold-up chair to the corridor outside the room, and YN smiled at how sweet and gentlemanly he was to those people who never really gave him a second of their day, dressed in his red boxer briefs. The waistband digging into the soft love-handles that spilled over the black elastic but perfectly showed off just how satisfyingly huge he was. Her lipgloss feeling sticky against her lips as she swiped a finger over her lips on the brisk walk to the bathroom. A chill in the air , from the small, open window, that brought a layer of goosebumps to her skin.

“Harry?”

The same man from before called out, startling him in his tracks as he let the seat rest against the cream wall. His attention fully on the soul-patch that was hard to tear his eyes from.

“Now, please, mate.”

“Yeah, of course. I was just...” his sentence drew quiet as his bare feet padded across the carpet, settling down on the edge of the bed and clasping his hands upon his thighs, “you want me here or...?”

“There is perfect. YN’s going to walk from the bathroom to start the scene. See you sitting there and then things escalate,” a hand wavered in the direction of the bathroom door and YN peeked her from behind the doorframe, waving at him with a cheek-aching smile, “starting in one minute.”

Despite his arrival into pornography, just a few months prior, Harry still hadn’t had much sexual experience to form a personality off of. Just enough experience to know what he needed to do in order to please another person and what he could expect, in terms of pleasure, from someone else. Every girl that he had ever been with - a number that he could count on one hand - hadn’t seen him as a desirable sexual partner and, apparently, had not been sucking him off in the way it should be properly done because the way that YN worked her tongue up and down his shaft, how her lips enveloped him with such an inviting warmth and how she gave his cock all the attention it deserved had left him a trembling, whimpering, squirming mess upon the bed as she dug her nails into the inside of his thighs, not even bothering to wipe the drool that clung to her cheeks and dampened the carpet between her knees and coated her breasts in thick rivulets. With YN in his life, the girls before him seemed like practice runs; their moans and begs being the pushes he needed to be a better person when it came to pleasing somebody else.

He loved seeing YN on her knees.

As she pulled down his underwear and let the loose material fall to his ankles in a heap of red cotton, her eyes looked hungry and once his cock sprung free from its restraint and slapped up against his stomach, she ogled it like a steak dinner and couldn’t dare take her eyes away from it. His tip raspberry pink and his slit twitched at the cool air, a dribble of pre-cum slipping down the side of his shaft and disappearing into the jungle of thick, unruly, dark hair that covered the base. His hand wrapping around himself, tapping her cheek with the rigid head, and his thumb swiped the clear and sticky arousal that bubbled to its escape.

One of her tiny hands sat upon his naked hip, thumb tickling over the tip of a leave belonging to the fern tattooed upon his body, whilst her other snuck around his thigh, denting the pillowy skin of his bum with tiny fingernail indents that tingled his skin. Her doe eyes looking up at him with an appetite and puckered lips were parted plenty enough for him slip a thumb between. Which she welcomed and instantaneously tasted the salty coating that covered the pad of his calloused thumb, using her tongue to lick his digit, a hum of delight vibrated his hand as she swallowed and slowly dragged her lips to his nail, pulling off with a pop.

“Have you been a bad girl this year, hm? Will I find you on Santa’s naughty list or his nice list?” Harry wondered, holding her jaw and forcing her lips to pout as she tried her hardest to grin at him, her eyelashes fluttering on her cheeks with each slow blink that she gave him, her nose scrunching as his thumb dug into the hollow of her cheek, “reckon you’ve been a nightmare, baby. An absolute nightmare. Reckless, naughty, the baddest of all bad girls, hm?”

She shook her head from left to right, only for his wrist to tense, holding her neck still.

“Deserve a proper fuck, don’t you, baby? That’s what bad girls deserve when they’ve been bad. To be properly fucked and punished until they can barely walk,” he told her, a smirk finding its way on his lips that looked menacing and dangerous, sending tingles down her spine and a jerk of electricity towards her clit, the bundle of nerves feeling warm between her thighs and no doubt leaving a damp stain upon the crotch of her knickers, “and I think sucking my cock would help you in moving naughty to nice.”

Her nimble fingers took hold of his cock and she couldn’t help but apply a little pressure to his aching and throbbing hard-on, gripping at his shaft as she kept a close eye on his face, looking for any signs that he was uncomfortable or too close to the end and needed her to back off before he spunked too early on - she had that effect on him and she ruddy well knew it. Her wrist slowly beginning to jerk him off, working him slowly and painfully close to his orgasm, her thumb brushing over his slit as he winced, bucking his hips into her fist. She scooted closer on her knees and applied kisses to the lower space of his belly, tracing his intricately-detailed tattoos with her lips, before she dragged her mouth down and around his belly-button, pressing a kiss to the patch of skin that seemed to tickle him and ignoring the thick course hair that tickled beneath her nose. Peppering the softest of kisses to his shaft and bumping over the pulsing veins and feeling just how warm his skin was, tasting remnants of dried pre-cum when itran down his length in rivulets and slowly - teasingly slowly - puffing cool air onto his wet skin.

Her tongue slipped out from between her lips and moistened her pink flesh, the colour of her mouth matching the colour of his mushroom tip, both glistening beneath the light that streaked through the window. A wince hissing through the gaps of his clenched teeth and she reciprocated by wrapping her lips around him, Her tongue flicking over the slit, craving more of his thick girth to stretch her throat, fingers toying with his balls and rolling them in her hand.

His hand never seemed to feel as good as her hand did and his jerks never did the trick nor did they seem to satisfy him enough and every squeeze and every spurt of ejaculate, that he released in thick strings of white cream, never seemed to send a spark of electricity down his veins like she could do. Her mouth felt immense as it dragged up and down shaft, her hands feeling amazing as one jerked off what she couldn’t fit in her mouth and one fondled his bollocks to bring him close to the edge, and her eyes... god, her eyes looked so perfect as they watered. Drool slicking her chin as she gagged and whined.

“Such a good girl, baby. So good for me,” he cooed raspily, fingers shaking as they stroked through her hair, his hand cupping the back of her head, “you drive me crazy.”

His toes hurt from being curled into the carpet, his thighs shook from how tense they were and his bottom lip almost drew blood as he chewed and nibbled on the flesh and cried out with euphoria - he never seemed to get used to being able to voice his pleasure because sharing a university hall with other people, with flats that had paper thin walls and allowed everyone and anyone to hear him, took away that advantage. His nostrils flared as he huffed and puffed a hoard of deep breaths, his chest rising and falling, as he gained all self control to not fall back on the bed.

“M’gon’a cum if you keep going like that,” he grunted, running his hand through his hair and tugging on his fringe, eyes squeezing shut as she pulled off of him with a slurping ‘pop’, “wan’a cum after I fucked you good and proper. Need to feel you around me.”

Their bodies seemingly in a rush to clamber upon the bed and pursue the one thing they were most eager for. Harry’s cock swinging with movement as he rested his body weight on one knee, resting on the edge of the bed, allowing space for YN to launch herself on the mattress, leading to a twist of two bodies that were panting and heaving with busy lungs. She watched him with hungry eyes as he grasped his cock in a loose fist and jerked himself once, twice, three times before it begun to swell bigger, giving himself a thick and veiny look before lining up to her slit. Tapping her folds once before slamming forward with a quick snap of his hips, filling her up in one swift thrust, fingers digging into the pillowy flesh that bloomed over the elastic of her lace knickers (that were decorated with delicate candy-cane sweets and a striped ribbon that held a tiny, golden bell upon the knot below her navel) which, if they jingled once more and caught against the pubic hair that sprouted from his crotch region, he would tear off with on swipe of a fist. Tucking himself inside of her and instantly rocking forward on his knees as his broad hips spread her legs apart, her ankles hooking in a rather limp fashion around his middle as she completely enveloped him. His groans sounded so deep and raspy, and in the moment would always put his voice second on her list of favourite sounds, scratching inside his chest as a way for her to hear just how pleased her was to be back in a cunt that he enjoyed so much. That he preferred to sink his cock into. That he was still a little starstruck over and couldn’t believe he had become, not only the industry’s favourite, but her favourite to star alongside on multiple projects.

It was an unexpected motion from him. Completely unexpected. She had been anticipating something a little softer, like a tap to her clit with the head of his cock, or something much sweeter from the man who had admitted, himself, that he couldn’t ever hurt a fly. The same man who was terrified to hurt her, terrified to break a limit and terrified to push between her legs because he didn’t know her. He didn’t know whether she had limits, whether she liked certain things, whether she was into specific kinks that he could put into play... they were simply just ‘fuck-colleagues’, if he had to give it a title; he wasn’t sure if they were buddies or not... they hadn’t really hung out outside of projects, they never really spoke and they used each other’s numbers as a means of contact for an upcoming session they had been asked to attend. Never to talk about favourite foods or what they were up to in a moment or whether they wanted to hang out at a local pub to mingle.

He stopped moving once he was fully situated inside her, his mouth gaped wide and his two front teeth breaking free from behind his pink lips, his chest heaving in short, sporadic and shallow breaths, tongue tensing before licking across the skin of his bottom lip, catching the top of the hump of his chin, as his eyes scrunched shut.

A sound, classed between a gasp and a strangled moan and a choked off bleat, bubbled up her throat and escaped from her parted lips and her nails dug into the expanse of his muscular back. Fingernails leaving tiny crescent-shaped indents amongst the freckles and moles and the faint scratches, causing his skin to feel bumpy and jagged, that he had gotten from somewhere (most likely received by someone whom she didn’t dare bring herself to think about). “God, Harry!”

“Fucking... christ. Fucked you plenty of times but you’re still so bloody tight ‘round me,” Harry whimpered, eyes rolling back into his skull as he released heavy puffs of breath that smelt deliciously of mint and blew her fringe from her eyes. Puckered lips looking exaggerated once he noticed her deeply-coloured eyes were disappearing behind loose tendrils falling from the messiest ponytail he’d ever seen her hair in. His hips pushing deeper - deep enough to nudge against all spots inside her and get the last inch of his prick inside. “How’s that happen, huh? Why d’yeh feel so tight?”

“You don’t fuck me enough,” she whispered - and she hated how she spoke with so much truth. She wished he was her co-star for all of her projects because he was a one of a kind bloke. The way he treated her was the way she had wished all of her co-stars would treat her; a kiss on the cheek upon arrival, a grin on his lips because he was genuinely excited to be with her, a compliment about how lovely she looked, asking her if she was okay, making sure she felt comfortable (regardless on how uncomfortable he may have been feeling) and talking to her like she wasn’t just the parking garage for his cock. “You need to fuck me more. Fuck me harder. Fuck me deeper, Harry.”

Her nails dug into the sweaty muscles of his back, leaving moon-shaped indents in his skin, as she pawed around eagerly for something to grip onto, both of her knees quaking either side of his body as he worked at a pace that had her edging closer and closer, each passing second, to her orgasm. The biggest she’d ever had out of all the people she had starred alongside, the biggest she could ever dream of having from a co-star (particularly a newcomer who wasn’t so used to be handled so boldly by a partner) and the biggest she had ever wanted, ever, in all of her career. Someone to stretch her properly, to the point where she could almost feel a burning tear at base of her cunt, and still feel satisfied by it.

“God, please…” she gulped and her voice was soft, broken in some places, and she wanted to plead with him for them to work together - but she knew it wasn’t just them in the room, they weren’t just having sex to pleasure themselves and they weren’t having sex of their free-will. It was a job and there were people out there who were waiting on something that wasn’t so emotionally fueled. He was making her feel good but was she making him feel good? “Harry, fucking hell.”

“Nice and slow, baby. Slow it down,” Harry cooed, hovering over her some more with the tiniest of grunts and mewls rolling off of his plush and swollen lips. Lips she just wanted to kiss whenever she wanted and a set of lips that she wanted nothing more than to feel touching every inch of her body whenever they were alone. She clenched around him, like she was holding onto dear life, and he felt it. Keeping him warm and snug, hugging his thick shaft like she was born to protect it. “You’re so good, baby. So good.”

She smiled and promptly wrapped her arms around his neck, tugging on his hair was he dipped low and pushed his face into the crook of her neck, right between her prominent collarbone and the warmth of the thick of her neck, arms disappearing underneath her body as he rolled them over. Feet planted on the bed and his knees bent as she stayed closer to front. Her bare chest flushed against his tattooed chest, a heavy moan erupting from within her as he bit down on her skin and started to suck like his depended on it. Feeling her fingers tense between his locks, pulling harder and harder and forcing him to suckle harder and harder, completely falling in love with the way she allowed him to bruise her. To mark her like she was his very own possession - and it hadn’t dawned on him then but it had done a few weeks later, when he saw a video of her with a guy who looked too young to be in porn, with a hickey so bold that it was impossible to cover with makeup, that he marked her. Not some strange bloke, not some cocky bastard who thought she was the fittest fuck, not some guy who hadn’t earned his place in her life... but him.

She buried her face into his neck, soon after, and it only felt right to him, as she clenched around him and kept a hold so devilishly dangerous around him, to allow her the chance to take a bite of skin between her teeth and chew and nibble until it was freakishly purple, taking a fistful of his sweat-drenched hair and pulling his head so it lulled to the left. Her lips moulding against his jawline before she flicked her tongue of her earlobe.

“Fuck me harder, Harry,” she whispered lowly, full of need and the desire to have him pound deeply into her, “so much harder, baby. I need it. I need you.”

And he happily obliged, suddenly snapping his hips up. The tops of his fuzzy thighs colliding with the flesh of her bum, the flesh jiggling under the momentum of his bollocks, as he forced every single inch of himself back inside of her with one quick slam. A drawn out whine echoing around the room from her open mouth as she reached between their bodies and nudged her fingers against her tingling clit, eyes rolling back in euphoria as he wrapped his arms around her middle and he’d her close.

“Christ!” She cried out, “yes, Harry! Keep going.”

She whined at the sensation that was building between her thighs, her stomach clenching visibly and her arms flexing as she held onto him with one arm and continued working her clit with her free hand, her entire body far from relaxed as she let out one last shaky breath, lungs rattling with the effort of the air she’d been holding in, releasing her orgasm around him as his thrusts fell into a jagged rhythm. His cock nudging deep into the pit of her stomach, pressing deliciously into the spot inside of her that forced her legs to straddle him a little tighter than they already had been, as he felt himself twitch and plead for release.

“Fucking hell, you’re so good. Feel so warm and snug around me, don’t you, baby? So good at taking all of me in like the good girl that you are,” he crooned with a voice that was raw and desperate for hydration, his hips slowly retracting away from her and pulling his cock out, one tiny centimetre by one tiny centimetre, little by little, enticing a gasp from her mouth as she rolled off of his body and stretched out beside him. She knew what was coming and she always found his endings to be the best endings; always helped when leaving the viewers wanting more. He jumped to his knees and spread them at a shoulders width apart, the sheets rustling under his skin and the mattress creaking under his body weight, fingers wrapping around his slick cock, that was covered in a slimy coating of her arousal, and jerking himself off to finish his orgasm. His eyes darting between her wet cunt and her startled eyes. “Look at me, baby. Let me see those pretty eyes watch me when I cum.”

And, if there was one thing that YN had grown to realise, over the short few months of knowing him, it’s that when Harry cums, he cums hard.

In all of her pornographic career, she’d had her fair share of unique spunkers. She had this one guy who came short and quick when he orgasmed, like she was errand upon his list of many other dutiful errands, and tasted more saltier than she preferred; she had one guy who sprayed like a fountain and had rather watery orgasms, which she hadn’t ever seen before, that dribbled down her face in quick trickles; she had another who spurted aimlessly and hadn’t any control over any specific place on her body... but she wasn’t lying when she spoke about how much he fucked like the proper bloke she had always wanted to be fucked by; and she had one guy, who she never asked back to film scenes with her, because he had been into cumming deep in her throat, and she wasn’t comfortable with him around.

But Harry... Harry was something else entirely.

When he wore a rubber, because they liked to skip that part sometimes, he managed to fill it nice and full with his release, and to the point where it leaked thick dribbles onto his fingers when he tied a knot at the opening. When he spunked after YN gave him a blowjob or wanked him off in whatever position a producer had them start off in, he liked to take control when he was close so that he could swipe the tip of his cock across her cheek and paint her skin with his creamy substance, only so he could lick it from her flushed cheekbone and give her taste when she kissed him. When they fucked so deeply and so passionately, he liked to cum on her stomach and watch it glisten under the natural lighting that entered the room, smiling at how delicious she looked when she was covered in his release, before turning into the perfect gentleman and wiping her clean when the cameras were no longer rolling. And when he took part in projects based on solo masturbation (which she was an absolute sucker for), when he didn’t have her to jerk him off as he sat back and watched her tits bounce, he managed to keep his twitching cock under control with a tight fist that still allowed him the pleasure of an unruined orgasm, leaking down his hand and onto a towel folded up to capture any spills.

She felt droplets not only land upon her pubic bone, ut also upon stomach and there was no doubt that some had landed in her belly-button, that some had missed her body completely and dispersed in the air, that some had flicked up and she had missed it land upon her chin or upon her cheek, that some caught in the material of her knickers and that some had definitely disappeared into his fist, for use as lube to smoothly jerk himself off. Painting her so messily and pushing the tip between her folds of skin before pulling away and hunching over her. Puffs of breath fanning over her lower stomach, and just the tops of her thighs, as he looked at the spunk that pooled between her thighs.

She shivered at the feeling of his tongue swiping up her folds. His wet flesh lapping up stripes against her wet flesh and the contact, the slurping and the moans were the only sounds that could be heard amongst the quiet room. Amplified because of the microphone but sounding so soft to their ears, like they were in a bubble and it was just the two of them as they revelled in the toe-tingling aftermath. Her fingers gripped at the sheets beneath her as her toes curled up, whimpers escaping her lips because his nose was in perfect place against her twitching clit. Lips soon attaching themselves as he worked on eating her like a feast. Lapping up every ounce of spunk that dribbled from between her walls, every slick puddle of her arousal that hid in her folds, every drop of a saliva and cum mixed concoction that left a distinguished taste on his tongue that he wanted more and more of.

He pulled away and looked up at her as she stared back at him with a smile on her face and a light behind her eyes that made her look pure, and her gentle cries of pleasure bounced off the walls as she slowly uncurled her toes. His cheeks and lips, and the underside of his nose, glistened under the natural light that filtered into the room and his tongue he’d the taste of both orgasms that he was desperate to show off to her.

“Tastes really nice. Always love how good you taste, baby,” he grinned cheekily, pushing up on his knees and leaning forward, hovering above her as he pressed a deep kiss to her lips. Open-mouthed and incredibly passionate and barely jerking away when her tongue found the inside, devouring every inch of his mouth as she, too, let the taste of their mixed releases linger on her tongue. “Lovely, right?”

“Delicious.”

#blogmas 2018 #harry styles imagines #harry styles blurbs #harry styles smut #harry styles concepts #harry styles writing #harry styles prompts #harry styles preferences #one direction imagines #one direction preferences #one direction prompts #one direction writing

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deanssweetheart23 · 6 years

Text

Five Years Of Christmas

Title: Five Years Of Chirstmas (Mechanic!Dean AU)

Summary: 25th December 2013. Dean isn’t looking for love. In fact, he’s doing his best to steer as clear from it as possible. And then he meets her. The girl that shows up at his brother’s party only to turn his entire world upside down and makes him believe in the magic of Christmas again. So, he falls for her, falls so quickly that no one in the room even hears the sound. And that is the beginning of their story.

Author: deanssweetheart23

Characters: Dean Winchester x reader, Sam Winchester, Eileen Leahy (mentioned), Autumn Brae Winchester (OFC), Benny Laffite, Lisa Braeden (mentioned)

Word count: 8129 (it’s a monster fic, I know, but it’s worth it)

Warnings: Fluff. Angst. Some language. Implied smut. Death of parents, references to loss, grief and infedility (not Dean associated). Domestic Dean Bean (yes, totally a warning)

Author’s Notes: This is my submission for @d-s-winchester‘s 12 Days of Christmas Challenge. Ashley, thank you so, so much for letting me participate and being so kind and understanding when I asked for an extension. I hope this was worth the wait.

Also, special thank you to my amazing friend slash sunflower @trexrambling because she beta’d this entire thing and helped me figure out how to make this story better and more beautiful. This would have never been posted without her.

My prompt for this was Baby, It’s Cold Outside by Michael Bublé and Idina Menzel (I love it btw) and it’s been used both as an inspiration and a key for the plot of this fic.

Thank you all so much for sticking with me and Merry Christmas! <3

Wednesday, 25 December, 2013

Arkansas Street, Lawrence

Dean knows she’s trouble the first time he sees her.

He’s leaning against one of the bookshelves in his brother’s living room, tiny snowflakes still sprinkled across his hair, and even though there are so many things he could have noticed, the fresh evergreen branches and the printed patterned ribbons and a Christmas tree with plaid garments, she’s the first thing that catches his attention.

He finds her dancing on top of a sofa, one of her hands reaching up towards the ceiling while the other holds a mustache stick close to her upper lip, and God, she’s singing, she’s actually singing Michael Bublé’s part in Baby, It’s Cold Outside while his little niece is sitting on the floor, just a couple of feet away, giggling and clapping her hands giddily.

And though there are reindeer antlers on her head and her tiny feet are engulfed in a ridiculous pair of red and green fuzzy socks and she probably looks like a mess in that oversized Christmas sweater of hers, Dean’s sure he’s never seen anything more radiant in his life.

It’s there, in the way she moves and laughs and sings so completely out of tune, in the way her eyes shine, alive with a warmth Dean has never seen in a stranger’s eyes before, in the way she just lives in the moment, and everything else around her ceases to exist.

He’s smitten.

“Beautiful, isn’t she?” Sam’s voice crawls deep into his thoughts, and he’s so lost in his own little world, so lost in her, that he doesn’t understand what is happening until he hears himself humming in response.

His brother chuckles.

He turns to look at him, chin jutted in offense.

“Dude, don’t gimme that look. You were obviously staring.”

“Shut up.” A pause. Eyes glancing towards her again. “Who is she, anyway?”

“Eileen’s roommate from college. Just moved back from Italy.”

“Huh.”

“Yeah.” Sam smirks, patting his brother on the back. “Totally single, by the way.”

A groan.

Eyes rolled skywards.

“What?”

“Man, you got to stop trying to hook me up with friends of your wife.”

“I’m not, I swear,” Sam huffs out, hands thrown up in surrender. “All I’m saying is, she’s kind and smart and I like her. And,” -he jabs a finger at her direction- “Autumn Brae loves her.”

Dean shakes his head a bit then and lets his eyes drift back to the fascinating girl with the lively eyes, the girl that dances with his niece and blows Eskimo kisses on her nose and tickles her sides.

Her eyes dart up and meet his and she smiles.

She doesn’t know him, she’s never even spoken to him before, but she smiles like she does, like he’s a dear friend, a smile that’s all softness and sweetness and sunshine.

He nods at her, “Nice mustache.” He smirks before he can stop himself.

Her cheeks flush pink.

She bits her bottom lip and he’s sure she’s going to look away but-

“Nice smile,” she retorts.

And he’d give anything to come up with something smart to say, he’d give anything to impress her and smirk and flirt in that way he knows makes women swoon but, somehow, he feels like that’s not nearly enough with her.

He makes sure to sit next to her at the dinner table that night.

Friday, 27 December, 2013

Merriam Ln, Kansas City

Dean had stopped looking for love a long time ago.

He used to, once, back when he was younger and the world was much simpler, a place swirled around his parents’ fiery glances and their inside jokes and a love so profound he thought nothing and no one would be able to conquer it.

He’s seen enough since then though, has seen too much, and knows that true love does fall apart, and the world is a pretty crappy place and there’s no justice, no magic in it, just like there’s no point in falling in love just to get your heart broken in the process.

Because he had had his heart broken. And ripped out of his chest. And stood up at the altar.

So, yes.

Dean’s not looking for love anymore.

But as he sees the way Y/N’s eyes shine in the dim light of his car, its soft glow dancing across textures and shades and edges he so desperately wants to trace with his fingers, he thinks that maybe, just maybe, he’s found it anyway.

“Are you sure this is edible?” Y/N asks after a few seconds, voice laced with a bit of uncertainty as she squints suspiciously at the paper box of Poutine in front of her.

They’re at a drive-in movie theater, slumped in the front seats of the Impala, and she’s got one of those blankets he keeps at the trunk of his car wrapped around her because she is always too cold for her own sake.

She looks like a burrito.

The thought makes him smile.

“Kid, I’m telling you this is one of the best street foods in America right now.”

“Yes, but is it safe? Because it looks like-”

“A mess. Yes, that’s the whole point. Just,” he spreads his hands and locks eyes with her, wide and pleading, “try it.”

She pouts, brows furrowed into a curious scowl. “Okay. But if something happens to me-”

“You’ll serenade me to death with Baby, It’s Cold Outside. Yeah, okay.”

She groans and rolls her eyes, but he can see the brightness there, can see the amusement and the playfulness as she takes a reluctant bite.

Silence and then-

“Oh my God,” she moans, looking up at him, “dude, this tastes like heaven.”

He chuckles, a rich, loose chuckle that dances in the empty space of his car and nestles between them.

“You like it then?” he asks, hopeful and pleased and just a tad cheeky.

“Do I like it? S’ so –how did you even know about this?”

He shrugs, something nonchalant, and hands her a cold beer.

“Got a buddy that spent a couple of years in Canada before moving here. He’s the one that told me to try it out.”

She nods and takes a swig from her beer. “Did he also suggest taking me ice-skating on the first date?”

A groan.

Eyes rolled skywards.

“You’re never going to let me hear the end of that, are you?”

“Nope.”

“Well, for the record, I’m actually terrific at ice skating.”

“Obviously.” She shakes her head, raises her brow a bit. “I mean, that fall on the ice was definitely terrific.”

“Hey,” he groans, pursing his lips, “I was just trying to keep you entertained.”

“And you almost lost a leg in the process.” She snorts. But then. “Seriously though. I had a really good time today.”

And though she’s fidgeting as the words come out, he can tell it’s a genuine statement, and he smiles, just a tug of his lips upwards, but so thankful, so heartfelt.

“Hmmm. Sounds like someone’s impressed.”

She laughs.

Her lips curl up in a smirk.

“Or. This could be the booze talking.”

“Oh, yeah, blame it on the beer, you lightweight.”

More laughter and eyes that shine brighter than any star he’s ever seen.

Fingers that tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.

God, he really wants to kiss her.

He clears his throat, quietly.

“What?” she asks, nervous half-smile playing at the corner of her lips.

“Nothing, I’m just,” he scratches the back of his neck, “m’ glad Eileen invited you to that Christmas dinner.”

She beams and Jesus Christ, it’s brilliant.

“Me too.” Her fingers brush up against his. “She’s…. She’s just amazing, you know? She’s the only college friend that actually stayed in touch after I moved to Italy. And she’s been so helpful since I moved back.”

Dean nods, mind drifting to Eileen and how selfless and loving and accepting she is, how hard she tried to win him over when she started dating his brother, how she loves him like he’s family and makes Sam happier than he’s ever seen him.

“Yeah, she’s pretty awesome.”

“Runs in the family, doesn’t it?”

He chuckles, but it’s bitter and darker than before.

“I dunno about that, kid.” He thumbs the label on his beer bottle. “I come with a lot of baggage. Eileen, uh…” He rubs at his forehead. “She said Sam’s told you about Lisa.”

The muscles in her face tighten.

She knits her brows in a frown.

“I didn’t ask him, if that’s what you think. I mean, I might have asked about you, but not like –Sam only wanted-”

“Hey,” he soothes, placing his hand on her arm gently, “’s okay. I’d rather you didn’t know that my fiancée dumped me at the altar for someone else, obviously, but it’s not like it’s your fault my brother can’t keep his mouth shut.”

“It wasn’t like that. Autumn Brae...” She sighs, eyes going a bit narrow. “She was going through some photos of their wedding and there was a picture of you and Lisa there and-”

“It doesn’t matter,” he tells her firmly, but his jaw still clenches a bit. “That was years ago, but she just… What happened with her really messed me up, kid. And m’ still probably not as great as Sam and Eileen paint me to be.”

“Yeah, well. I’m not Little Miss Sunshine either.” She snorts and pushes some hair off her face. “I got plenty of issues I need to work on. Family stuff, personal crap I need to deal with, all that jazz. But. That’s conversation for like, the sixth date, so…”

“Sixth date, huh?”

“M’ willing to bribe you with homemade Italian cuisine. Hell, I’ll even add my famous tiramisu to the mix if you’re willing to put up with me that long.” She grins. “What do ya think?”

He smirks then, and leans closer, close enough that he can feel the heat that’s radiating off her. He tries hard not to think how much he wants to lose himself in it, and reaches for her hand, small and soft in his large one.

She looks up.

“Wild horses couldn’t drag me away, sweetheart,” he whispers, and she flushes, lips trembling into a shy, radiant smile.

He never once pays attention to the movie when it starts.

Monday, 30 December, 2013

Tennessee Street, Lawrence

Dean’s in way over his head.

He has known it from the very beginning, has known it from the moment he locked eyes with her and felt like a part of him had returned home, but it’s only getting clearer, only getting more evident now that they’re walking around the crowded Christmas market trying to find a present for his niece, and every time he catches her staring he just wants to lean over and kiss her until he can’t breathe anymore.

The Polaroid flashes for what feels like the hundredth time that day, pulling him out of his thoughts.

He groans.

“What?” she asks, a nervous chuckle escaping her.

“You do realize I know you just took a picture of me, right?”

She smiles then and, even though it’s nervous, there’s a glow to it that does funny things to his heart.

“Always so observant, Sherlock.” She waits for the photo to print, then hands it to him. “Here. S’ a good one.”

It really is a good one.

“So, I take it you like photography?”

“Kinda, yeah.” She gnaws on her bottom lip. “I, um… I actually wanted to become a photographer when I was a kid.”

And he’s not sure whether he’s supposed to ask but-

“Why didn’t you?”

She sighs, lets her eyes drift to the floor for a second.

“Y/N, look, you don’t have to-”

“My parents… I’m not sure whether Sam’s told you anything about them but they’re very difficult people. Very frigid, very driven. They, uh,” she laughs, but it’s harsh and there’s a darkness in it that hadn’t been there before, “run one of the most prestigious business companies in Kansas so, having a photographer daughter just didn’t fit into the kind of high profile they wanted to keep.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah, I know.” She rocks back and forth on her heels a little, seemingly thinking about something. “There was this program… I got accepted into it after I graduated high school. My parents and I got into a terrible fight about it so, I ended up getting into Princeton instead.” She gulps, head tilted to the right. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, Princeton was great, and I love the job I have now but…”

“Your relationship with your parents was never quite the same,” he whispers, careful to keep his voice void of all emotion.

She nods, bottom lip wobbling.

“We were never close, but,” she runs a hand over her face, “they’ve been crappier and way more judgmental about my life choices since then. Which is why I spent the past five years working in Italy. Hiding is easier than dealing with them, sometimes.”

His jaw clenches.

He tries hard not to think about the scars those people have left on her, tries hard not to think that they might match his, despite the fact he’d grieved for the loss of his parents after they died in a car accident, while she’d grieved for the loss of hers whilst they were still alive.

Maybe that was worse.

“Well,” Dean mumbles and lets his fingers lace with hers, then grips, “for the record, I think they have no idea what they’re missing out on.”

She cracks a small, shadowy smile. “Thanks, D,” She whispers. Her eyes drift to the Polaroid he’s still holding. “You should keep that one.”

“Kid, I-”

She takes a step closer to him, purses her lips in a pout.

“Please?”

He chuckles.

God, how can he say no to her?

“Okay, but,” he tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and lets his knuckles brush against her skin for just a second, “I want to see the rest, too, if that’s alright.”

“The rest?”

He grins and it’s all mischief and brightness. “Everything you got,” he says.

“Dean, you don’t have to do that.”

“I want to. Over dinner at my house. I’ll even let you buy me ice cream.”

“How considerate of you.”

“Just be glad I’m a cheap date, sweetheart.” He smirks and she laughs.

He knows then, knows with a certainty that’s beyond him and seeps into his bones, into his very marrow, that he’ll never fall deeper in love with a laugh.

He kisses her outside the ice cream parlor that same evening.

Thursday 25 December 2014

Massachusetts Street, Lawrence

Dean can’t take his eyes off her.

They’re strolling down the snow-covered streets together, surrounded by Christmas lights and large, fluffy flakes of whiteness, and still, all he sees, all he can see is the soft girl in his arms, the one that marched into his life a year ago and turned it upside down just by being in it.

“Are you sure Sam and Eileen were okay with us leaving so early?” Y/N asks, biting the inside of her cheek nervously.

He snorts out a laugh. “Oh, please. Benny and the Harvelles were still there. They won’t even notice we’re gone.”

Y/N arches an eyebrow at his response but he just chuckles and presses a kiss on the top of her head, lips brushing against the fabric of the burgundy beanie she’s wearing.

“We should have stayed a bit longer. Eileen worked so hard to make this dinner perfect.”

“And it was. But as much as I enjoyed getting my nails painted by Autumn Brae, I’d like to spend the rest of my time doing very adult things with you,” he gloats. “’Sides. We’re having breakfast with your parents first thing in the morning, remember?”

“Yeah, I’m actually trying to forget that,” she deadpans, brows furrowed in a scowl. “Do we really have to go? S’ not like they’ll care.”

And he knows she doesn’t want to sound bitter, knows she tries very hard not to let the venom that’s been poisoning her seep into her voice, but she does because she’s so tired of trying to win a battle that’s already been lost, tired of trying to make the two people that are supposed to love her unconditionally actually care about her.

So, he shakes his head and wears the fakest smile he’s ever worn in front of her.

“You know they will,” he says, squeezing her hand tight into his.

“D. -”

“Look,” he starts, “they’re not my favorite people in the world, alright? I know they got tons of flaws and they made lots of mistakes and they never valued you enough.” The muscle in his jaw twitches, but he just licks his lips and carries on, “But they’re trying, kid.”

“Are they? Because they’ve been treating you-”

“—c’mon, don’t go there.”

“No, Dean. They’ve been treating you like crap for months,” she retorts, and though Dean knows she’s trying to keep her emotions at bay, they’re tumbling out of her very soul, illustrated in the way she clenches her jaw and juts her chin.

“They have been nasty about your job and your family and the fact you didn’t go to college so that your brother could, and I’m just –you don’t deserve that because you’ve been,” she lets out a nervous chuckle and spreads her hands in a spread-armed shrug, “you’ve been everything I could ever ask for and-”

“Hey,” Dean whispers, titling her chin, “breathe.”

He gives her a second, lets her frustration burn out until all the angry things she wants to say are swallowed up by the crispy night air.

And then.

“I don’t give a rat’s ass what your parents think of me,” he tells her, but there’s no hatred there, no bitterness or pain or tartness. Just the truth, spoken into the darkness only for her to hear.

“Not when I got you. I wish we could get along, obviously, because they’re your parents and you’re –you’re too important to me. But this.” He laces their fingers together and brings their joined hands to his lips. “God, this is the best thing that has ever happened to me.” He kisses her knuckles sweetly. “And I’m not letting them ruin it.”

She smiles, and it’s a smile he’s seen there before on afternoons spent by the fireplace with Vonnegut books and wine flavored kisses, in between tangled sheets and mornings when they wash each other in the shower, fingers running leisurely through shampooed hair, and in those nights they spend making lazy love like it’s the first and the last time.

It’s the smile that lets him know he’s not the only one feeling this way.

It’s the smile he loves.

“So,” he drags his fingers through her hair, “you and I are going to go out with them tomorrow, and we’re going to have fun and whisper inappropriate things to each other until they give us that murderous look you hate so much.” He smirks, all spark and playfulness. “And then, we’re going to come back home, and I’ll give you that gift I’ve been bugging you about.”

A lazy grin spreads across her face.

“So, you’ll just wear that pair of godawful Santa boxers you bought from the mall and dance for me?”

He lets out a loose chuckle, green eyes sparkling in mischief as his mind drifts to the new professional camera that’s wrapped in a plaid patterned roll, just waiting for her under his Christmas tree.

“Well, that wasn’t the plan, but if you’re into that kind of thing, I’m sure we can-”

“Shut up.” She whines and smacks his chest, trying to push him away.

He wraps his arms around her middle, firmly.

“C’mere, kid.” He cups her face with his large hands. “You’re cute when you blush, you know that?”

“Am not. M’ vicious and scary.”

“Hmmm,” he nuzzles her nose, leaning in, “so vicious, tiger.”

He kisses her then, lets his mouth brush up against hers, all purpose and fire, and smiles when he realizes he can taste the apple pie they’ve shared earlier, can feel the Tennessee Whiskey she’s been drinking on her lips.

“So,” he beams when it’s all over, hands precariously low on her back, “everything you could ever ask for, huh?”

“Well, yes,” she grins, “I love you, D.” She traces his jawline with her thumb. “Christmas Grinch and all.”

“Pffft. M’ so not a Christmas Grinch.”

A chuckle.

Lips curved into a smirk.

“Sure you’re not, old man.”

“Old man?” he growls out as he lets go of her, eyes drifting to a pile of snow beside him. “Careful, sweetheart. You don’t wanna poke the bear now, do you?”

She breathes out air through her nose, hand on her hip.

“M’ not poking the bear. I’m poking the Grinch,” she says with a brilliant, unwavering grin.

“Oh, you’re in for it now, you brat,” he hisses, reaching out for a handful of snow, smashing it in his hands.

“Dean, don’t you dare.”

“What, you’re scared now?” he asks, heat dancing in his eyes. “You were such a smart mouth just a few seconds ago, baby.”

“Dean, I’m warning you. If you throw that snow –you jerk!” she shouts as the ball crushes right against her chest, flecks of snow dotting her coat and the Y/H/C of her hair, but he just laughs because he isn’t even sure he’s played in the snow before.

She reciprocates after that, allows the snow to fly back and forth until their clothes are soaked, and they’re exhausted and limbless and frosted to their very bones.

She never stops though, wild laughter spilling from her lips as she runs away from him to collect more ammo, and he sees a chance and takes it, lunges for her and pins her to the ground with him.

And he’s sure the fall must have been painful, but she blinks, a pleased, half-smile spreading across her lips, lighting him up like a firework.

Leaning closer, he holds her hands above her head and takes everything in, the flushed cheeks and the snow-painted eyelashes and those brilliant eyes that look at him like no other eyes ever had.

He feels alive.

“What?”

He feels them then, feels those three little words he’s never told anyone since Lisa ready to slip out of his mouth and nestle into her softness and, this time, he’s not afraid, not willing to hold them back.

“I love you,” he whispers, and she beams, like he’s just whispered the words to her old favorite song.

It’s the happiest moment of his life.

Friday, 25 December, 2015

Karl Johans Gate, Oslo

Dean’s never been abroad before.

He’s never been particularly fond of the idea, never really cared to see what was beyond the little world he’d built for himself because he was content, he was safe there.

And then she came along.

Y/N waltzed into his life with her ugly Christmas sweater and her ridiculous fuzzy socks and brought with her colors and feelings and love, the love he’d given up on, the love he thought he’d never deserve again, and let them wrap around him like a vine until they seeped into his veins, into his very being and became a part of him.

He’s felt it before, felt that change creeping in through stolen kisses and drunken nights at Irish pubs, and he feels it again now that he’s leaned against the wall of one of the oldest hotel rooms in Oslo and watches in amusement as Y/N stands in the balcony and leans over slightly so she can take the perfect picture of the frozen landscape.

Joining her outside, he wraps his arms around her waist quietly and presses a soft kiss on that spot where her neck meets her shoulder.

“Taking pictures already, aren’t we?”

With a hum, Y/N lets the camera hang from the strap around her neck. “Well, we have to fill that scrapbook somehow.”

“You mean the one that’s already been filled?”

She snorts, placing her hands over his and squeezing. “No, I mean the one I just bought, smartass.”

“Hmmm,” he mumbles, brushing his nose against her neck, “go on then.”

“Yeah, I can’t if you keep that up.”

The words come out in a whine, but he feels her shiver against him, hears the way the breath hitches in her throat and her heart beats just a little faster and loves the fact that, after two years, he still has that effect on her.

“Seriously, s’ distracting.”

He smirks, eyes crinkling at the corners.

“What, that?” He trails kisses up the column of her neck leisurely. “Or maybe, it’s this,” he gloats, hands wandering lower, to that junction of her thigh and hip.

A groan.

Shaky breaths.

“D., cut it out.”

More kisses.

“D., I’m serious,” she warns, finally managing to turn around and face him. “We don’t have time for this.”

“Says who?”

“You,” she says, clasping her hands around his waist with a coy smile. “You promised you’d take me to the Christmas market today. And I want to see Ibsen’s house. And go to the National Gallery. And try the potato pancakes.”

“Well, yes, but,” he takes the camera off her carefully and places it on the table next to him, then walks until he’s got her pinned against the wall, “we could totally do that later in case you, ya know, want to show me how grateful you are for this trip.”

She laughs then, and he swears it’s the sunniest sound he’s ever heard.

“Real smooth, Mr. Winchester.”

He grins and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, eyes light and bright as they flicker across her face.

“Well, not everyone can be as smooth as you, Fuzzy Socks.”

She rolls her eyes, but he still sees through her, sees the smile she’s trying to hide.

“You’re an ass, you know that?”

“Yes,” he brushes his mouth against hers, sweet and drifting, “but you love me.”

The corner of her mouth pulls up.

Her eyes lock onto his, something sincere.

“Yeah,” she whispers, hands trailing up around the back of his neck, “I do. I really do.”

And he wishes there were enough words to explain how much that little sentence means to him, what she means to him, but they never are, so he just leans in and presses his lips against hers, pours everything he feels into a kiss that’s gentler than rose petals and warmer than the first day of summer.

They pull away, breathless but sated.

“Listen, I have...” he lets his head drop on her shoulder, then swallows, hard. “I have an idea. But it’s insane.”

“Your ideas are always insane.”

“Oh, yeah?”

She kisses his jaw, fingertips grazing the back of his neck. “Yeah.”

Rough, calloused hands caress her cheeks.

“Wanna hear it then?”

“Hmmm.”

He lets out a soft laugh and leans in, until his mouth is inches away from her ear.

And then.

“Let’s get married,” he says.

Her jaw almost drops to the ground.

For a second, there’s nothing but silence, eerie and white silence dancing in the air between them, save from the sounds of strangers passing by the street in front the hotel, laughing and shouting and chatting.

He blinks, second-guesses himself.

“Dean, is this –do you mean this?”

“’Course I do, kid. C’mon,” a small kiss, “follow me.”

Taking her hand in his, he leads her inside the room and reaches for his duffel bag, fingers wrapping around a little velvet box.

“Here,” he waits until she snaps the box open to reveal a simple diamond ring with a platinum twisted band, “it, uh… This was my mum’s.”

“Dean-”

“No, just –I’ve been carrying this with me everywhere for months because I hoped.” He scratches the back of his neck. “I love you,” he says. “I love you so much that is scares me sometimes, and I don’t,” he sighs, and squeezes her fingers, “God, kid, I don’t want to wait anymore.”

She smiles, sparkling and rosy and real.

“Then don’t.”

A skipped heartbeat.

Brows furrowed in puzzlement.

“Does that mean that-”

“I’ll marry you? I dunno, D. Why don’t you ask me again?”

He doesn’t hesitate this time.

He just looks at her, at the girl he wants to spend the rest of his life with, and lets go.

“Marry me.”

“Yes,” she kisses him, “yes,” -kiss-“yes,” -kiss- “yes,” -kiss- “yes, I’ll marry you, you ass.”

It’s all heat and need and secret smiles after that, ragged breaths and lingering touches the only thing he can focus on until he lays her on the bed and makes love to her like he’s never made love to her before, whispering praises and sweet nothings and tender nonsense into her ear.

She follows him over the edge a million kisses later, then holds onto him, hides her face in the crook of his shoulder as he crashes on her and laughs, and it’s all because of him.

“Man,” he brushes sweaty locks of hair off her face, “merry Christmas to us.”

She chuckles, the sound vibrating into his lungs.

“I thought you didn’t like Christmas.”

He shifts a little then, presses his lips on her forehead.

“I do now,” he beams.

He’s the luckiest man on Earth.

Sunday, 25 December, 2016

Kentucky Street, Lawrence

Dean doesn’t deserve her.

He knows she’s too good for him, he’s always known it, but somehow has managed to bury the thought deep within the fragments of his soul.

It still hits him sometimes, though, hits him in the least expected moments, when he steals glances of her getting ready for work or when she’s asleep next to him in the mornings, hair a bird’s nest, smile soft and serene, and he swears that he’s never seen anything more perfect in his life.

It’s there then and it’s here now that her parents’ disapproval is getting to him again and her mum’s words are echoing soundlessly in his mind, a horrifying mantra.

You’re going to be her downfall.

How can she say that? How can she even think that when she knows that Dean would give everything, his job and his life, his very soul, to make her daughter happy? How can she say that when he’s spent the past year working double shifts just to give Y/N the wedding he knows she’s always dreamt of, even though she’d told him time and time again that all she wants is to marry him, pomp and circumstance be damned?

Y/N enters the kitchen, dressed in his light grey sweater, the one he bought to impress her parents the first time he met them, and even though he’d normally be unable to take his eyes off her bare legs or that soft spot on her neck that’s still bruised from his ministrations, now his eyes are locked on hers, on how puffy and swollen they look.

His heart clenches in his chest when he realizes it’s because of the fight they had the night before when he discovered that she was offered a position for a photography program in Paris and had declined it –for him, because of him- and never told him.

He’d been mad then, mad she didn’t tell him anything, mad that she’d given up on something so big for his sake without even asking him.

“Hey,” he rasps out.

He wishes he had something better to say, but he doesn’t.

Jesus, he hates fighting with her.

“Hi.” An awkward pause. Eyes that look anywhere but him. “Uh, can we talk?”

He blinks.

“Yeah,” he runs a hand over his face, “yeah, let’s do that.”

She nods, a thankful, relieved nod, and licks her lips.

“I’m sorry,” she mutters, and it’s weak and shaky and genuine. “I should have told you about Paris. I just… God, I’m an idiot.” She wraps her arms around her middle, a self-deprecating laugh escaping her.

“Y/N-”

“I never applied for that program,” she says, like she doesn’t hear him, like she doesn’t notice how her name leaves his lips in a prayer. “One of the instructors just happened to be at that exhibition I did in Kansas last summer. He liked my work, so-”

“So, he offered you a position in it.”

“Yeah. And my mum was here the day he called, or I wouldn’t have told her, trust me.”

His forehead puckers.

“I know. But why,” he lets out a brittle chuckle and shakes his head, “why didn’t you tell me?”

And it’s just a simple question, but it’s laced with wounded pride and concern and a heart that’s been painfully scarred far too many times and he knows, the moment the words leave his lips, he knows she sees it, too.

“Because I said I wouldn’t go. And I didn’t want you to worry over something that wouldn’t happen.” She ducks her head, juts her chin a bit. “And I was wrong, and I could come up with a million excuses, but you don’t deserve that.” She doesn’t look up at him, “You deserve an apology.”

“I don’t want an apology,” he says, flinging his hands up. “I want you to trust me. I want you to not let me make the same mistakes your parents did.”

“But I don’t want to go. Not this time.” She presses her mouth into a thin line, fights with herself for a few fleeting seconds. “Dean, I love photography, but it’s not what I want to do for a living anymore. Because I love my life here. Because I love you.” She crushes the heel of her hands over her eyes. “God, D., I love you more than anything in the world and I know sometimes you –I don’t want you to think you’re not enough for me. That having you isn’t enough to make me happy. Because it is.”

“Jesus Christ, that’s just,” he runs a hand over his face, “c’mere, kid.”

She walks closer to him and reaches out to touch him, letting him lace their fingers together.

“Do you know I used to hate that ridiculous Michael Bublé song until I met you?”

“You did?”

He chuckles, just a little under his breath, and curls an arm around her waist, pulling her close.

“Yeah, but then…” He takes in a deep breath and smiles, all love and longing for the memories waltzing in his mind. “Then I saw you dancing to it that night and… Now every time I listen to it, all I can think about is how it made me fall in love with the craziest woman I know.”

“Hey,” she whines, smacking his arm, and he laughs and tightens his grip around her, “m’ not crazy.”

“Yes, you are, kid.” He tilts her chin up. “And I love that about you.” A kiss that’s fleeting, soft and fragrant. “And that’s why I’m going to ask you to think about that offer again.”

“Dean-”

“Nope.” He clasps a hand at the side of her face. “Just listen to me for a sec. I know photography’s just a hobby. But you’re too good at it. And this is a pretty great opportunity.”

“But-”

“I want you to go.”

“D., we’re getting married in four months. The program starts in August.”

“Yeah, well. We can reschedule. It’s a six months program, right?”

“Yes, but-”

“Then we’re having a Christmas wedding. Next year.” He leans in, nuzzles her neck. “What do you think?”

She leans against him, fingers curled around the fabric of his shirt.

“How did I ever get so lucky with you?”

“I got no idea, but,” he braces his forehead against hers, lets his arms wander under the sweater she’s wearing, “you’re about to get luckier in about, uh, five maybe six minutes?”

She barks out a laugh, nose nuzzled against his.

“God, I love you.” she whispers.

“So, that’s a yes?”

“It’s not that simple.”

“It is.” He kisses her and this time it’s all depth and desperation and need. “It is if you promise you’ll come back to me.”

It’s the only moment he allows his walls to crack, the only moment he lets his armor down and lets her see him, see through him, through his fears and worries and tears, and she smiles.

“I’ll always come back, D.”

That’s more than he could have ever asked for.

Wednesday, 11 October, 2017

Rue des Francs Bourgeois, Paris

Dean can see why she likes Paris so much.

He can see it from the moment he sets foot on the City of Lights, can see it when he feels that last ray of daylight dance across his skin and knows that it’s somehow different, somehow brighter than the ones that cast light to his own world, back at Lawrence.

And he feels it, too.

There’s a fascinating kind of frenzy strapped to every street, every boulevard and cathedral and café he passes, and he can easily picture her flowing out of the bookstalls, with a newspaper and a croissant in hand, hurrying to get to the Louvre or to Seine.

A smile plays across his lips at the thought.

He misses her. It’s only been two months since the last time he kissed her lips, only two months since he held her in his arms, solid and concrete and warm, and yet, he feels like there’s a vibrant part of him missing.

Tonight, though…

Tonight, he’s going to surprise her.

He hadn’t thought about it until she called, almost a week ago, and sounded so tired and troubled that Dean lost a night’s sleep over it. She said she’d only had a bad day, of course, but he’d been worried and so, with the first opportunity he got, he booked a last-minute flight, bought her a stuffed teddy bear and flew to Paris.

He’s just purchased a bottle of her favorite wine from a little liquor store right across the street from her apartment when he sees them.

Y/N kissing someone else.

The man’s hands digging into her hips.

And for a moment, he’s so absolutely stunned and startled, so shocked that he refuses to believe what he’s seeing is real, refuses to believe that that girl is Y/N, his Y/N, but it’s written in the smoothness of her skin, in the radiance of her presence.

His stomach churns.

He lets the stuffed animal drop to the ground, mud painting its limbs.

“Monsier,” a young man asks him softly, taking a step towards him. “Ça va bien?”

Dean blinks away the tears, eyes glancing back to where Y/N and that, that man were.

They’re gone.

And Dean wants to do so many things, wants to punch a wall and smash every single bottle in that cellar, wants to go upstairs and beat the crap out of that punk that’s kissing his fiancée, wants to take her in his arms and yell at her and kiss her and ask her why, to run and scream and cry, he wants to know why she’d do that to him, and wants to ask someone, anyone, why he’s not enough, why he’s never enough, but there’s no life, no fight in him left.

“Monsier,” the man asks again, brown eyes gazing upon him with concern.

Dean lets out a ragged breath and shakes his head.

“I’m fine,” he says, running a hand over his face. And then again, if only so he can fool himself. “I’m fine.”

She tries to skype with him a few hours later.

He doesn’t answer.

Wednesday, 18 October, 2017

Sunnyside Avenue, Lawrence

Dean hasn’t talked to her in a week.

She’s called and texted and tried to skype more times than he can count, but he just keeps ignoring her, keeps pretending that it doesn’t break his heart every time he sees her smile on his screen and has to let it ring, let it go to voicemail like her effort means nothing to him.

Like she means nothing to him.

But that’s not the case. Because Y/N is still everything to him, no matter what she did, no matter how much he wants to hate her.

He can’t.

He can’t because for every second that kiss lasted there’s a good memory of her, a smile she smiled just for him, a laugh shared over spilled coffee, a soft whisper pulled out of her lips in the moments he spent plugged deep into her, an inside joke, a loving glance.

And then he doubts himself and he doubts her and everything he saw because he’s felt her love so deeply, felt her love interweaving itself so thoroughly into his existence, into the strings of his life that he can’t understand how she could do that to him.

“Benny,” Dean chokes out, waggling his fingers, “I want another round.”

“Yeah, that ain’t gonna happen, brother. M’ tired of dragging your drunk ass home every night,” Benny says, tossing the rag on the counter. He lets one, two, three seconds pass and then. “Have you talked to her?”

“C’mon, man, don’t-”

“Have you talked to her?”

Dean clenches his jaw.

His fingers wrap tighter around the pint glass.

“No.”

“Go talk to your fiancée, Chief.”

“She’s not,” his voice breaks, “don’t call her that.”

“How much of an idiot can you be?” Sam’s gruff voice startles him, and he turns around to find his brother walking towards him with long strides, fury dancing in his features.

“Sam, what the-”

“Y/N called me,” he states, the muscle in his jaw twitching. “She was crying. Said you haven’t called her in a week.”

Dean swallows, hard.

His eyes drift to the floor.

“We, uh… We’re dealing with some stuff.”

“Some stuff?” Sam repeats, incredulous. “Some stuff? Jesus Christ, Dean, she thinks you’ve been in an accident.”

And he knows it doesn’t make any sense, but his heart breaks all over again when he realizes she’s hurting.

“Sam.”

“She’s been calling every hospital in Lawrence, you ass.”

“Sam.”

“Why would you-”

“She’s seeing someone else!” He shouts, a shout that’s all bitterness and anger and heartache.

A few heads turn his way.

He can’t bring himself to care.

“She’s seeing someone else,” he says again, and this time the words are laced with unshed tears and wordless whys.

He expects Sam to apologize then, to stumble over his words, but instead.

“She’s not.”

Dean huffs out air through his nose, not quite a laugh.

“Sam, I saw them. They were kissing and-”

“If you had bothered to pick up your phone when she called, you’d know that the guy kissed her. He was drunk. She punched him and called his friend to take him home.”

“She --that guy-”

“The guy had been flirting with her for weeks. She told him she was engaged. He obviously couldn’t take no for an answer.”

Each word his brother speaks is like a slap in the face, leaving nothing but bruises and cuts and wounds as it pierces through his skin.

“I don’t understand…”

“She gave me the guy’s number. She gave me his friend’s number. Apparently, Eileen knew about this, but didn’t say anything because Y/N didn’t want you to worry.” He pauses, lets his words sink in. “She’s telling the truth, Dean.”

Dean’s bottom lip trembles.

The lump in his throat tastes like hope and guilt and shame.

He calls her thirty minutes later, and when she doesn’t answer he does it again and again and again.

She never picks up.

Monday, 25 December, 2017

Kentucky Street, Lawrence

Dean keeps a picture of her in his wallet.

It’s one of those photographs that never made it into their scrapbooks because she absolutely hates the way she looks in it, nose red and hair wild and unruly from the wind. He’d taken it in Norway, a day after he proposed, while she’d been staring at some kids that were playing next to them in the snow, and every time he looks at it he’s reminded of brilliant smiles and frozen kisses and whispered promises in the darkness of their room.

It’s been two months since the last time he saw her, two months since they broke up, and he still can’t believe he’s lost her.

Part of him thinks he’s going to open the door one day and find her there, asleep on the couch, or that he’ll walk into the kitchen and she’ll wrap his arms around his middle and step on her toes to kiss him and ruffle his hair like he’s a little kid.

He still turns around every time he hears a camera flash, still thinks it’s her trying to steal pictures of him like she used to do, and on the nights he’s had too much to drink he believes she’ll crawl into bed with him and he’ll get to touch her again, get to feel her sleep next to him.

But that never happens, so, he drinks a bit more and smiles a bit less and tries to get by.

And he loathes himself. He loathes his own stupidity and his fear and his pride because he did the one thing he swore he’d never do, because he let his scars define him, let Lisa and what she did to him ruin the one good thing in his life.

And then there’s a knock on the door one day.

With a sigh, he heads for the entrance of his house and swings the door open, ready to tell Sam that yes, he is sure he doesn’t want to have dinner with him and no, he doesn’t need a baby sitter because he’s a grown ass man, but-

“Hi,” an all too familiar voice says.

He freezes, then blinks.

She’s still there.

“Y/N,” he says, “hey.”

She smiles, something nervous and awkward, and every atom, every cell in his body screams at him to kiss her.

He doesn’t.

“You, uh… You look beautiful,” he whispers. “I mean, you always do but Paris… Paris looks good on you.”

Her cheeks flush a light shade of pink. “Thank you.”

One, two, three long minutes pass.

They just stare at each other.

And then.

“So, Sam,” he scratches the back of his neck, lets his eyes drift to the door, “he said you’d spend the holidays in Paris.”

“I was going to, but…” She shakes her head a little, gnaws on her bottom lip. “We were supposed to get married today.”

“I know,” he says, hoping she can’t taste his heartache on her tongue.

She laughs and God, it’s so broken.

“We really screwed this up, didn’t we?”

“Y/N-”

“No, I was… I was at that little café in Paris yesterday and Baby, It’s Cold Outside started playing and I remembered,” she sucks in a breath, but the words that leave her mouth are still wrecked and choked and fragile like porcelain, “I remembered how it made an amazing man fall in love with me. And I know it’s too late, that I’m too late, but… I miss you.”

Dean’s breath hitches in his throat.

She misses him.

It’s that simple.

It’s that complicated.

It’s everything he needed to hear.

“And I know I should have called. And I still can’t believe you think I’d cheat on you but-”

“You miss me,” he breathes out, and he can’t even remember the last time three little words had meant so much to him.

“I do.” The wind blows cold on her face then and prompts her scarf to sway, revealing the diamond ring that’s hanging from a chain around her neck. “I always do.”

And there are a million things he wants to say then, a million things he needs to say, but he doesn’t, because for the first time in two months, he knows he still has time, knows it’s still not over.

So, he settles for the first words that come into mind.

“It’s cold out here, isn’t it?”

She shoots him a bemused look.

Her brow furrows in a frown.

“It’s...cold?”

“Yeah,” he says, running a hand over his face, “you should come inside. I just finished lighting up the fireplace and everything.”

And this time, she understands.

This time, she smiles, and it’s a smile that takes him back to the start, back to the first time they locked eyes and he realized she was it for him.

“Are you sure?” she asks.

He doesn’t answer.

Instead, he reaches out for her, lets his calloused hand slide against her own and grips.

And when she beams, he knows.

They’ll always find their way back to each other.

Tags: @ravengirl94 @jpadjackles @supernatural-jackles @thevioletthourr @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @torn-and-frayed @trexrambling @percywinchester27 @hannahindie @escabell @emilywritesaboutdean @atwistoffate @atari-writes @kathaswings @atc74 @becominglionhearted @becs-bunker @impala-dreamer @imagining-supernatural @dancing-the-hellfire-rumba @dancingalone21 @polina-93 @pickupthatamulet @tiny-friggin-human @juanitadiann @wordstothewisereaders @sgarrett49 @ruprecht0420 @there-must-be-a-lock @myrabbitholetoneverland @iwriteaboutdean @spngeronimo @captainemwinchester @mogaruke @imissyoualittlemoreeveryday @wellthatsrandomkek @winchestersnco @winchesters-flannels @jayankles @akshi8278 @keepcalmandcarryondean @castianityislife02 @mandilion76 @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @a-glass-of-orange juice @tardis-full-of-fallen-angels @ravenangel33 @easelweasel @holahellohialoha @blushingdean @sinistersaltqueen @ultrafandomcat @carryonmyswansong @emoryhemsworth @superapplepie @princess-of-erebor1992 @bebravekeeponfighting @carryonmywaywardcaptain @sebastianshoe kleinkariertebetrachter @stellaa33 @pillow223 @samisimportant @jessiliam-caronday

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ace-queen-of-arendelle · 4 years

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Sad thought: Kristoff is going to outlive Sven.

Even sadder thought: The average lifespan of a reindeer is 12-15 years and Sven is already at least 16 (he appeared in the prologue when Anna was 5, and Anna is now 21) so he probably doesn't have that long left.

Also sad: Whenever Sven does die, Olaf will have to come to terms with a permanent death that doesn't get reversed.

#frozen #sven frozen #sad frozen thoughts #kristoff and sven #let's just pretend sven is a special type of reindeer that lives twice as long #my valiant pungent reindeer king #my fuzzy reindeer buddy #a boy and his reindeer

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lotsofthinkythoughts · 6 years

Text

From One to Ninety-Two

Steve wants this Christmas to be perfect.

A Steggy Secret Santa gift for @steggyforeveruniverse ! Just so you know, this is set in the Family Assembled verse which I beta, but there’s only really one point that’s super important about that and it’s that human Jarvis is also in the future. He appears once, so didn’t want you to get super confused by that. I hope you enjoy it, sorry it took until now to finish it. Hope your holidays were happy and your next year is wonderful!

“Do I actually want to ask why there’s so many Christmas lights in here?”

Steve looked up from the tray he was testing, to see Peggy holding JJ, who was watching his father enraptured. Or more accurately, who was fixated on the length of bright lights shining near Steve’s feet.

“Buh!” He reached one chubby hand down making insistent grabbing motions.

Peggy sighed and shifted him up into her arms, propping him up so his head was still supported even as she gave him a better view.

“I’m decorating. For JJ. He likes the lights”

“Steve, he’s three months old.”

“It’s his first Christmas,” he insisted, reaching over to unplug the strand.

JJ made a distressed noise as the lights went dark, but was appeased by Peggy shifting so he faced the Christmas tree in the corner over her shoulder. He giggled and kicked his feet happily before laying his head on her shoulder, making Steve raise an eyebrow and tilt his head in their direction, before plugging in the next strand of lights. Peggy slipped a finger into the small fist that curled around the neckline of her blouse. JJ didn’t move, but held on just as tightly.

“See?”

She looked at him dubiously, but sighed in resignation. “Oh alright.”

Steve grinned and Peggy couldn’t help but return the smile.

—

Snow gently fell outside the windows, the beginning layers of what would be a deep blanket by the end of the evening coating the streets. The view from the window was amazing- drifting snowflakes over a vibrant cityscape. A year ago, Steve might have sketched it.

Today, he was watching his son, and how his tiny face fixed on the television, where a snowman sang about silver and gold Christmas trees. JJ seemed to be enjoying it, though to be fair he seemed to enjoy most things. He was a fairly happy baby.

There was a firm shutting and the sound of heels on wood when the door to the apartment closed, and JJ’s head turned away from the film, recognizing the sound. He’d been fussy for five minutes after Peggy left earlier, and now he started squirming as if by flailing he’d manage to summon his mother any faster. JJ made an annoyed noise, his face scrunching down into a disapproving baby frown.

Steve threw his arm out just in time, placing a hand in front of his son’s torso as he toppled forward. Trying desperately to get down from the couch, he leaned toward the television just as an elf burst out of the snowbank where the snowman had just been. One drool covered hand landed atop Steve’s, pushing in mute protest against the force keeping him upright.

“Whoa buddy, careful. We can go say hi to your mom,” Steve said,

JJ burbled excitedly as Steve lifted him up so that his head was perched on his shoulder, the same drool covered fingers now clutching around the neckline of Steve’s shirt, leaving an unpleasant damp spot.

“Hello darlings.” The sound of Peggy’s voice floated around from the other room along with the rusting of bags and cloth.

Steve rounded the corner just as Peggy slid the bags under the table for later. He smiled to himself, as much as she had insisted that JJ wouldn’t remember any of this, she made sure to hide the gifts, though that wouldn’t be an effective hiding spot next year.

“How were the crowds?”

She raised an eyebrow. “I’ve dealt with worse.We can talk more about what’s left to buy when James naps,” she said, reaching out to take the baby. He gurgled happily and immediately buried his face in the blue sweater she was wearing.

“That might not take long,” Steve observed, placing a hand on JJ’s back. He couldn’t blame him, snuggled up with Peggy was one of the best places in the world. He’d spent enough time curled up with her just feeling warm again.

Peggy shook her head slightly, in that way she did when she could tell he was being maudlin before stretching up on her toes to kiss him.

—-

The floor in front of the tree was covered in blankets, white and fuzzy, creating an illusion of snow. Peggy stood behind Steve, watching him adjust the camera for the eighth time. JJ smiled his gummy smile at his father, his fingers wrapped around his toes, pulling on the red booties with a buckle print. He was propped against a mound of pillows, his feet kicking against the blankets beneath him. A Santa hat was perched on his brow, dark little wisps of hair emerging from the fluffy brim. Steve snapped a couple of photos, examining them carefully afterward.

Over the top of his head, Peggy grinned at JJ, who let go of his toes to flail his hands in her direction. He let his head drop back sending the hat tumbling to the other side of the pillow mound. He giggled and struggled to pull his head back up.

“Having trouble there?” Steve asked, leaning over to grab the hat and help JJ back upright.

Peggy stepped around to sit behind the little photo setup, watching as Steve placed the hat back on JJ’s head.

After a moment, he sat back and reached for the camera again, and when he did, JJ immediately flopped backward, giggling, sending the hat to the floor and the top of the pillow pile slipping downward. He grinned at Peggy and she grinned back before helping him sit up again.

Before she could even get the hat back on his head, he’d flopped back on the pillows again squirming and rolling happily as he giggled.

“James doesn’t like posing for publicity photos- I wonder where he gets that.” Peggy raised an eyebrow in Steve’s direction.

“At least he doesn’t have to wear tights.”

“Just a silly hat.”

“Be nice or Santa won’t bring you any presents.” Steve said, grinning at her.

“I have it on good authority that Father Christmas has already bought my presents so I rather doubt that.”

“Shhhhh.” Steve reached out to cover JJ’s ears with a scandalized expression. “Don’t give it away yet.”

JJ giggled again, the sound a more than adequate distraction for Peggy to lean in and kiss Steve gently.

---

“Remind me why we thought this was a good idea?” Peggy asked, looking between the tray of cookies she’d just pulled from the oven and the photo on the recipe.

They were dark, far darker than the photo, though not completely burnt, like the batch that came before which were currently in the garbage. It was not an appealing prospect the thought of having to eat them later on tonight.

They’d attempted to make the cookies from scratch, because prepackaged simply wouldn’t do, even though James was only three months old and couldn’t help bake them or even put them on the plate. Still, it was about establishing Christmas traditions, Steve had said.

Peggy thought this one was off to a rather poor start.

“Didn’t you ever leave cookies for Santa when you were a little girl?” he asked, stepping up behind her, hands on her shoulders.

“Father Christmas,” she corrected absently, as she began pulling them off the baking tray. “You do realize that someone has to eat these.”

She didn’t have to see his face to know Steve was wrinkling his nose at the prospect. He would eat almost anything, but burnt cookies weren’t appetizing even to him.

“We’ll just throw them away tonight. JJ won’t notice.” Steve let go and walked away, going back to where he was stringing popcorn for the tree.

Peggy turned around with false affront. “Are you suggesting that everything doesn’t have to be perfect for his first Christmas?”

Steve had been so insistent about that. It was more than she might have done for her own tastes, but it was all in good fun and it was hard to deny him when he looked so happy. That was true for both of them, she supposed. James was currently napping, so at the very least she couldn’t be roped into any with his sad puppy eyes.

Steve looked up from the bowl and string and grinned. “Peggy. It’s Christmas. Santa will forgive you for not being able to bake.”

“He’d better,” she said, dusting cookie crumbs from her hands. “Or else he’ll be stringing this popcorn all alone until it’s time for the party.”

Steve’s face morphed into an exaggerated pout, and Peggy laughed before kissing his cheek and taking a seat to help.

----

The common areas in Stark Tower (or Avengers Tower, now) were decked out with tinsel, holly, fir garlands, and lights. It was hard to say who was the most responsible for the wealth of decorations, but no one was complaining. The room was warm and filled with people, the smell of cinnamon and gingerbread wafting from the tray of cookies in the center of the room. The low din of chatter echoed around, people standing in small groups.

Tony and Bruce were in the middle of a discussion, Tony gesturing with a hand holding a half full tumbler as Bruce shook his head. For a moment, Steve’s gaze stopped on Peggy who was chatting with Natasha and Pepper, her red sweater as festive as she was was willing to get for this particular exchange. “I refuse to have my picture taken with antlers on my head,” she had said when he showed her the felt reindeer antlers he’d found when he bought JJ’s santa hat. Not that he hadn’t snuck some anyway when she’d worn them the day before, but Steve wasn’t stupid enough to ask her to do so in front of everyone.

His gaze moved to JJ, who was in his bouncy seat kicking his feet happily as he looked at everyone around him. The Thorson twins sat just out of range of his feet, chattering happily and showing him the Yule gifts they’d already received. JJ made tiny grabbing motions at one of the Asgardian toys that the boys showed him, and Steve made to push away to intercept them, but Jarvis, without even looking away from the conversation he was having with Clint put his hand between the toy and JJ’s hand, and JJ immediately grabbed his godfather’s finger instead.

Relaxing back against the wall once more, he scanned the room again, watching everyone interact. It was strange now to think back to his earliest experiences in this room, how alone and lost he had felt, because now- now he had everything he’d ever wanted. It wasn’t perfect, there were people missing, people he wished he could see again, but he had his friends and his family around him and that was something five years ago he never would have foreseen.

Suddenly, Peggy was at his side, her fingers sliding against his. She looked up at him and his heart swelled for a moment.

“Feeling maudlin?”

He shook his head and pulled her closer so her head was resting on his shoulder for a moment “Nah. Just thinking.”

“Share with the class then.” She looked up at him, an expression saying ‘go on’ firmly written in her expression.

“I just… sometimes it hits me that this is real. You’re real. JJ is real. And Nat and Tony and everyone. And it’s good.” He leaned down to kiss her, soft and sweet, because she was there and he could and they had everything ahead of them.

In a moment, they would all exchange gifts with their friends, and then in the morning they’d have all the time in the world with JJ, to watch him react to opening presents for the first time in his life. There would be more kisses and wonder and laughter going forward. This was just one more first, a beginning that would carry on and it was full of promise.

“Yes it is,” Peggy said when they separated as she pulled him away from the wall and back into the party once more.

#steggysecretsanta #steggy #steggyforeveruniverse #This is complete fluff and I would say I apologize but I'm not really sorry #I just hope you enjoy it

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mad4turtles · 7 years

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One Piece ~ “Who Let the Choppers Out?”

To the lovely anon who requested a ‘army of Choppers’ fic, here you go! Sorry to keep you waiting, and I hope you like it. It’s a little short, sorry, but I liked the way it ended XD

“Sanji, can I have one of those sweet apples please?”

The cook couldn’t hold bck the smile that crossed his face at the beloved voice of their little doctor, their youngest crew mate, and he turned from washing the dishes to the reindeer in question. “Knock yourself out, buddy,” he said, and the way the kid’s face lit up like a sky full of fireworks warmed Sanji’s heart as he plucked an apple from the fruit bowl and handed it to Chopper.

“Thanks, Sanji!” Chopper giggled, already crunching on the apple as he trotted out of the kitchen, his satisfied munching fading as he shut the door behind him. Sanji smiled in that direction for a time before returning to the kitchen, plunging his hands into the soapy waters to finish of the last few dishes left from breakfast.

As much as he griped and bitched about the amount of noise and mess the idiot trio were prone to make on a daily basis, not even Sanji was immune to the childlike innocence and kindness of their reindeer doctor (and all of them were infinitely blessed to know that hadn’t changed much even after two years apart), and more often than not he would treat the kid almost as good as he treated the lovely ladies of the crew – almost. He wasn’t sure if it was the big brown eyes that did or the fact that he was just that much younger than the rest of them that he couldn’t help it. Chopper was a lot like Luffy in that regard…

“Hiya, Sanji!”

Sanji blinked, perplexed, and turned to look down as Chopper entered the kitchen again. The little guy was beaming up at him with all the warmth in the world, hooves behind his back, the picture of innocence. Oddly enough there was no trace of the apple he’d taken, and those were the sweet apples; Chopper loved sweet things, liked taking his time with them, and to see it gone so quickly was a little odd.

Hm. Oh well, Chopper was probably peckish, needed to peel his sweet tooth a little before lunch. Sanji didn’t mind, as long as he didn’t make himself sick in doing so.

“Hey, Chopper. You’re back quick,” Sanji said, drying his hands on the towel he’d placed on the counter beside his growing pile of clean dishes. “You need something else, bud?”

Chopper tilted his head, fuzzy brow raised. “’Something else’?” he repeated. “I haven’t been in here since breakfast.”

Sanji’s brows furrowed. “…you were literally just here, like, three seconds ago.”

Chopper blinked. “I was? Oh, that’s strange. I don’t remember coming in here...” he trailed off, eyes darting to the side in thought.

Sanji frowned, just as confused as his little friend but for, apparently, vastly different reasons. “Well, you were. You feeling okay?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah I’m fine!” Chopper replied, back to his chipper self in an instant as he rocked back and forth on his hooves. “It’s nothing, probably just one of those things where you walk into a room and forget what you were gonna do, right?”

Still a little mystified but glad nothing was wrong, serious or no, Sanji chuckled and smiled. “Yeah, I hear you. You want another apple then? You finished the last one pretty quickly.”

At that, Chopper’s eyes lit up like one of Franky’s radical beams. “Oh yesyesyesyes, please!” he squeaked, and Sanji couldn’t fight the grin as he handed the furry bouncing ball of joy another apple. The reindeer munched on it happily, trotting back out the door with a wave and a “Thanks Sanji!” before disappearing from the galley again. Sanji watched him go and shook his head fondly.

Chopper was a weird one – hell all of them were weird, like captain like crew after all – but Sanji knew they would never get enough of him.

He’d just turned back to the counter to put away the dishes when the doors of the galley burst open, cracking against the wall and making Sanji nearly jump and drop a whole stack of plates – thank god for his incredible reflexes. He opened his mouth to shout at the rude intrusion but stopped short when he looked down to find –

Chopper was back. Again.

This time however, the teen was panting fiercely, eyes wide and electrified with anxiety as his arms flapped wildly at his sides. “Sanji, Sanji I gotta ask you something, something really important!”

Sanji blinked again, slowly setting the plates down safely. Now he was worried. “What is it, Chopper? You finally remember what you came for? You’ve been in and out of here, like, twice already.”

Chopper froze mid flap and he blanched, his mouth falling open. “I –I was…here…already?” he stammered, a hoof slowly rising to hover over his mouth in what looked like growing horror. “Was – Was I really here a few seconds ago?”

Completely and hopelessly confused beyond hope, Sanji looked Chopper straight in the eye, and nodded very slowly. “Yes. Yes you were. Twice.”

A high-pitched squeak escaped the reindeer, and his eyes enlarged to an almost humorous degree. “Oooohh nooooo,” he wailed quietly, and to Sanji’s horror his eyes started pooling with tears. “What have I doooone ~?”

“Chopper,” Sanji knelt down in front of Chopper, hands gently grasping the kid’s shoulders. “What’s wrong? What did you do?”

Chopper sniffed, and he well and truly looked like he was about to start sobbing and Sanji wasn’t entirely confident he could deal with a sobbing Chopper right now. “I…I-I…I was w-working on m-my r-rumble balls a-again, a-a-and there w-was an explosion and I…and I –“

“SANJI GET OUT HERE RIGHT NOW!”

Both the doctor and the chef jumped in fright at Usopp’s frantic call from the galley’s doorway. Said sniper was out of breath, sweating, his hat askew and his thick, black mane of hair free from its band, fingers gripping the doorway enough to almost splinter the wood. “W-we’ve – we’ve got a situation here!” he cried. “It’s – it’s crazy, it’s impossible and I barely escaped with my life –“

“I’m kind of in the middle of a situation right here, Usopp!” Sanji barked with a nod down to Chopper, still sniffling under Sanji’s hands. “Unless it’s a raid or something what could you possibly need me for –?”

“There’s an army of Choppers outside!”

Sanji stared at Usopp. Usopp, still panting a little and pale as a dead man, stared back.

Sanji’s eyes drifted down to the Chopper he held, lingered for a moment, and then returned to Usopp.

“You’re kidding.”

Usopp shook his head, swallowing thickly. “I’m really not. There is a freaking Chopper Army out on the deck right now and Sanji I physically cannot deal with this –“

Scooping up a tearful Chopper – one, apparently, out of many – Sanji bolted to the door, nearly knocking Usopp over in the process, and the cook charged to the deck praying to every god out there that Usopp was pulling his leg…

Only to skid to and unsteady stop seconds later, his visible eye popping from its socket and his jaw slack as a flat tire. He stared. And stared. And stared.

“What. The. Hell.”

Sanji couldn’t believe what he was seeing, didn’t want to believe it and yet there it was, clear as daylight and sure as the sky was blue and the ocean was wet.

There were at least twenty-nine Choppers milling about the deck. Twenty-nine Choppers, not including the one Sanji had tucked in his arms against his chest blubbering about ‘explosions’ and ‘chemicals gone screwy’ and ‘I’m so sorry I messed up’, which meant in total, there were Thirty Choppers on board the Thousand Sunny.

Luffy had gathered a good few of them together, ten at least, and was crying with laughter as they pounced and bounced and attacked him with hugs and affectionate nuzzles; the captain was writhing on the grass with mirth, so unbelievably happy under the masses of Chopper clones that the sight was almost cute if not for the fact that there was more than one Chopper.

Franky was surrounded by at least three of them, climbing all over his armored self and crowing with excitement over the ‘super’ robot guy; said guy was grinning madly, striking his signature pose.

Nami was surrounded by five Choppers nearby the figure head, all of them bouncing and pleading with Nami to give them some of her tangerines or show them some tricks with her Clima-Tact, and the poor young woman was clueless as to what the hell she was supposed to do, looked downright disturbed, and she looked every which way to find someone to back her up.

With their combined efforts, Brook and Robin managed to put six of them to sleep – Brook was playing a soothing version of Bink’s Brew on his violin, and Robin sang along, using her angelic voice to put the reindeer clones under within seconds; she held two of them on her lap, the others piled around her feet like kittens, and the raven-haired archaeologist didn’t seem all that fazed by the whole ordeal.

And then there was the moss-head, sleeping under the shade of the tree, surrounded by the last few Chopper clones; one of them dozed peacefully on Zoro’s lap, another on his head, leaving the others to either doodle on his face with Usopp’s painting set or read a book beside him. Sanji noticed two of them were eating apples.

Sanji stared at the scene laid out before him, various Chopper sounds – be it laughter or excited shrieks or snoring or otherwise – reaching his ears, and the only thing he could say, the only words he could physically conceive to describe the sheer insanity that had happened upon their ship in the middle of nowhere on the seas of the New World was –

“I’m gonna need more sweet apples.”

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topfygad · 4 years

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45 Fun Holiday Activities & Spirited Things to Do

The vacations all the time appear to reach approach too shortly, and normally by the point I even take into consideration adorning with boughs of holly it has changed into ‘oh crap’ I forgot to purchase Aunt Mary her annual set of dish towels after which additionally frantically calling the native bakery for my contribution to the cookie trade. Ugh!

How about this yr all of us overworked, frazzled procrastinators have a enjoyable plan to maintain us on monitor? A Christmas Bucket Listing stuffed with enjoyable issues to do might be that plan.

Begin this vacation bucket record in early December and it’ll not solely preserve you on a greater schedule for the season, however the actions may even get you within the spirit of Christmas.

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1. ✧ Mail a Letter to Santa

Get some fancy paper and sparkly pens to put in writing a letter to Santa. His mailing handle is tough to overlook: Santa, North Pole. If you happen to really desire a response from Saint Nicholas, right here’s some directions from USPS on tips on how to correctly write and obtain a letter from Santa.

2. ✦ Attend a Tree Lighting Ceremony

Many cities or landmarks could have a ceremony honoring the lighting of their tree. It’s an evening the place crowds of individuals load up on scorching cocoa, gown of their warmest apparel and collect across the tree ready for the flip of the change.

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3. ✧ Get Your Image with Santa

Whether or not you might have a baby or are a baby at coronary heart (like me!), go to the native mall and get a cute snap of you with good ole Saint Nic. If you happen to don’t need the everyday vacation picture, try these humorous concepts: 20 Adults Making Issues Bizarre with Santa.

4. ✧ Go to a Native Christmas Pageant

Whether or not is be a competition of bushes, parade of lights or a welcoming of Santa coming to city, attend an area competition in your metropolis. My city has a beautiful silent public sale occasion the place native enterprise house owners adorn and donate a tree for a superb trigger. Then town individuals can come and drink scorching cider whereas perusing the handfuls of bushes (and hopefully outbidding one another!).

5. ✦ Make a Selfmade Reward

There may be all the time one thing particular about giving and receiving a selfmade reward (it’s a enjoyable factor to do in any season!). It may very well be a glass body with pressed wild flowers or fairly smelling cleaning soap or infused vodka—the chances are countless! I’m actually loving these flavored salts with these cute glass jars.

Caught for concepts? Listed here are dozens of cool DIY issues to do for items:

6. ✧ Join With an Out of City Good friend

The vacation season is the right time meet up with an outdated buddy that you just haven’t related with shortly.

7. ✦ Make an Decoration

Put your inventive exercise hat for this Christmas bucket record thought and make your personal vacation ornaments to your tree or somebody elses. Most craft shops carry clear bulbs (or you should purchase them right here) that may be stuffed with an array of festive issues or get much more artful with these 30 DIY Christmas ornaments. If you’re not so artful, StayGlam has obtained you lined with their straightforward DIY ornaments.

8. ✦ Sip on Sizzling Chocolate by the Fireplace

There’s nothing fairly like sipping some scorching cocoa whereas watching a fireplace blazing. It’s the right approach to write your Christmas record! You can also make your self a easy Previous-Normal Sizzling Chocolate or spruce it up by whipping up a Crimson Velvet Sizzling Chocolate. You’ll be able to preserve your cocoa heat all day in Yeti’s insulated mug (they make nice items too!).

9. ✦ Create Handmade Christmas Playing cards

With a set of papers, ribbons, glue and a few ornamental items you’ll be able to create some fairly festive Christmas playing cards that may WOW your loved ones and associates. Nation Dwelling has some tremendous cute DIY card concepts (the mini wreath playing cards are my favourite!).

10. ✧ Make a Christmas Tune Playlist

Christmas music has come a great distance through the years—it looks as if each main artist has a tune or album. Use spotify to create your excellent playlist!

Having a tough time considering of songs? Esquire has made it straightforward with the 30 Finest Christmas Songs of All Time.

11. ✦ Donate a Toy

Christmas is all about giving, and giving a present to a baby in want is without doubt one of the most rewarding issues to do that vacation—a heartwarming addition to your Christmas bucket record! Annually I usually gather toys at my restaurant to donate to Toys for Tots, however there are numerous different locations in want too. Attempt your native homeless shelter, kids’s hospital or hearth division. Plus, many retailers and companies could have Christmas Angel bushes, the place the ornaments hung are needs from kids in want.

Don’t know what the recent toys are this season? Right here’s Amazon’s record of the High 100 Toys.

12. ✦ Chop Down Your Personal Christmas Tree

13. ✦ Watch a Vacation Film Favourite

Slip into your comfiest pjs (you realize, that fuzzy onesie with the toes), make some popcorn and watch a vacation film that may get you into the spirit. You’ll be able to even go one step additional and make it a film marathon. A few of my favorites are:

It’s a Fantastic Life

Elf

A Christmas Story

Miracle on 34th Avenue

14. ✦ Make a Wreath for Your Entrance Door

Give your company a heat welcome by inserting a fantastic crafted wreath in your entrance door. You’ll be able to select one of many 65 DIY Christmas Wreaths from Nation Dwelling (I am keen on this Birch-Bark Leaf one!).

15. ✧ Cover or Discover the Elf on a Shelf

Firstly of the vacation season, this cute elf is positioned throughout the house appearing as Santa’s eyes and ears, ensuring all the kids are behaving. Every night time after the kids have gone to mattress he goes again to the North Pole to report back to Santa. He returns to the house within the morning, however all the time to a distinct location. You probably have kids (and even wish to play alongside along with your housemate), it’s enjoyable to cover and discover him. It’s a type of actions for all ages!

Make certain to get yours nicely upfront! You’ll be able to order Elf on a Shelf right here.

16. ✦ See the Nutcracker Ballet

Whether or not it’s simply on a small native stage or an enormous metropolis manufacturing, a quintessential factor to do in the course of the holidays is to flee right into a dreamland with the beautiful ballet efficiency of the Nutcracker. This traditional Christmas story is centered round a younger woman’s Christmas Eve celebration and is a should factor to do at the least as soon as in your lifetime!

17. ✧ Learn ‘Twas the Night time Earlier than Christmas

It’s the traditional poem that ought to have a spot in each Christmas lovers house. You may get your personal copy right here.

18. ✦ Construct a Snowman or Make a Snowman Angel

Escape to a winter wonderland to make a snow angel or construct a superb quaint Frosty. Have enjoyable plopping your self proper into the snow, waving your legs and arms to create the right angel or stacking large balls on high of one another for a jolly snowman (don’t overlook the carrot nostril, hat and stick arms!). Bucket record bonus should you do each!

For assist learn The Final Step-by-Step Information to Constructing a Snowman and only for enjoyable right here’s 31 Epic Snowman Designs. For an excellent straightforward possibility simply purchase a equipment.

19. ✧ Make a Popcorn Garland for the Tree

20. ✧ Roast Chestnuts on an Open Fireplace

One in all my favourite issues to do whereas in Zurich within the winter was hitting up the roasted chestnut stands scattered alongside the streets. It made me wish to begin the custom of constructing them at house for the vacations. So why not purchase your self a chestnut roaster and observe this How To Roast Chestnuts on an Open Fireplace article.

21. ✦ Spend an Night Wrapping Presents

Wrapping presents is certainly one of my favourite vacation actions! I save all of the items till only a few days earlier than Xmas then spend the night time listening to vacation music and overlaying all of them in fairly paper. Listed here are 39 Reward Wrapping Concepts to get your inventive juices flowing—my favourite is the Reindeer Thumbprint Paper!

22. ✧ Construct a Gingerbread Home

There nothing that claims Christmas fairly like the home stuffed with the scent of gingerbread and a desk prepared for house building. Do this recipe or for one thing approach simpler, simply purchase a gingerbread home equipment.

Learn extra: 60 or the Finest Gingerbread Home Concepts

23. ✦ Cling Stockings

24. ✧ Volunteer

Throughout the vacation season there are all the time individuals in want of some further Christmas cheer. Unfold some pleasure by serving to ultimately. You’ll be able to volunteer at a soup kitchen or deliver pleasure to a kids’s hospital. Decide a trigger near your coronary heart and spend the day giving. Discover alternatives close to you on the United Means or Volunteer Match web site.

25. ✦ Make Paper Snowflakes

Making paper snowflakes is a type of actions for the entire household. You can also make some to hold on the tree, adorn presents with others and even stick just a few on the home windows of your private home for the neighbors to see. If you happen to’ve by no means made one earlier than, right here’s a straightforward Snowflake How-to.

26. ✦ Go Ice Skating

Throughout the Christmas season, outside ice skating rinks begin popping up—even in locations that don’t have any snow! Placed on a pair of blades and glide across the rink. Comply with it up with a cup of scorching cocoa.

27. ✦ Attend Midnight Christmas Eve Service at Church

28. ✧ Go Christmas Caroling

Get a gaggle of associates collectively, apply some Christmas carols (Rudolph the purple now reindeer is certainly one of my favorites!) after which stroll across the neighborhood spreading the spirit by means of tune.

Don’t know what to sing? Right here at some high Christmas carols with the lyrics.

29. ✦ Get Dressed Up and Attend a Vacation Occasion

30. ✧ Donate Your Unused Mittens and Jackets

Child it’s chilly exterior! And there are some unlucky individuals who want a heat jacket or a pair of cozy gloves to get them by means of the frigid winter season. Take up a set from associates, household and neighbors after which deliver them to the native homeless shelter.

31. ✦ Do a Random Act of Kindness

Random acts of kindness are a few of the most fulfilling and most humane and human issues you may ever do. Particularly when it’s performed for a whole stranger.

Donate some meals

Pay the bridge toll for the particular person behind you

Go to an animal orphanage and assist out for the day

Feed somebody’s parking meter.

The probabilities are countless. One of the best ways to strategy that is to have a look at your area people and see what it’s they want probably the most. Or try my put up for concepts: 75 Random Acts of Kindness Concepts: Examples of Variety Issues to Do.

32. ✦ Spend the Day Baking Christmas Cookies

Who doesn’t like a house stuffed with the smells of fresh-baked cookies? It doesn’t matter whether or not it’s snickerdoodles, crinkles or easy sugar cookies, spend a complete day simply baking. Afterwards, you’ll be able to even set up a cookie trade with family and friends.

For some scrumptious cookie concepts see the 36 of the Finest Christmas Cookie Recipes. Don’t overlook the cookie sheets! The Rachael Ray Yum-o! Nonstick Pans are wonderful, or at the least get your self some silicone baking mats that make the method a lot simpler!

33. ✧ Arrange a Secret Santa Reward Change

On the lookout for a straightforward and enjoyable approach to trade items with household, associates and coworkers? The a Secret Santa Reward Change is the reply. One in all my favourite secret Santa items are these “If you happen to can learn this, deliver me some wine” socks (in addition they have ones for chocolate and low!). You’ll be able to you should purchase them right here.

34. ✧ Make an Creation Calendar

An creation calendar is used to rely the times till Christmas. The everyday ones are stuffed with chocolate and hanging out on the grocery retailer checkout line (like this one). However, with slightly creativity you’ll be able to create your personal utilizing matchboxes, clothespins or absolutely anything else you’ll be able to presumably consider!

Want Concepts? See Buzzfeed’s 33 Intelligent And Lovable DIY Creation Calendars and Condominium Remedy’s 35 DIY Creation Calendars to Make Now So You’re Prepared for December

35. ✦ Drink Eggnog

Ingesting eggnog is sort of a custom in the course of the vacation season, so why not partake to your Christmas bucket record? Sometimes the drink is made with sugar, milk, cream, whipped eggs, spices and a contact of alcohol (although those you purchase on the grocery retailer is perhaps sans the liquor—insert unhappy face).

If you wish to make your personal, do this recipe by Alton Brown. Not an enormous eggnog fan? How about simply including slightly eggnog taste to your espresso with this eggnog Torani syrup.

36. ✧ Make and Put on an Ugly Christmas Sweater

You might not be thought of a diehard Xmas fan till you might have sported an unsightly Christmas sweater! There are many locations on-line to purchase one, but it surely’d be a lot extra enjoyable to make your personal customized sweater. Need assistance? These 51 Ugly Sweater Concepts will certainly be inspiration.

37. ✦ Have a Snowball Combat

With a lot contemporary snow exterior are you able to limit your self to the indoors. Get exterior for a superb quaint snowball combat! Invite some associates, make groups and let’s see who wins the struggle of snow.

Don’t get on the market unarmed, study Find out how to Make the Good Snowball first!

38. ✦ Make Your Christmas Listing

39. ✦ Begin a New Custom

With a lot pleasure, Christmas is the right time to begin a brand new custom that may reside on in years to return. It may be something from a particular dish you prepare dinner each vacation season to volunteering on the native shelter to Christmas caroling. Something goes! Yearly I adorn and donate a tiny tree—it instantly will get me within the vacation spirit.

40. ✦ Eat a Sweet Cane

41. ✦ Kiss Somebody Below the Mistletoe

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42. ✦ Take a Household Christmas Picture

43. ✦ Take a look at the Vacation Lights in your Neighborhood

Fill your thermos with scorching chocolate, load up the automotive with your loved ones and provides your eyes a particular vacation deal with by driving by means of the neighborhoods searching for one of the best mild show. Examine along with your metropolis, a lot of them make vacation mild maps so that you can observe.

44. ✦ Put on a Santa Hat in Public

45. ✦ Depart Cookies for Santa Claus

Final, however not least to your Christmas bucket record, on December 24th depart cookies for Santa Claus…even should you don’t imagine in him anymore. You’ll be able to eat them within the morning!

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Winter Bucket Listing: 55 Enjoyable Actions & Issues to Do Valentine’s Day Bucket Listing: 35 Romantic Concepts and Cute Issues to Do Being Grateful: 100 Issues to Be Grateful For At present Take a Christmas Market Cruise Alongside the Rhine River California Dreaming: 9 Unbelievable Winter Stops within the Yosemite Valley Cute Winter Jackets Match for Journey

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readexplorerepeat · 6 years

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Cocos Christmas Edition: Top 10 Christmas Movies

My love of all things Christmas is pretty well documented, so it would only be natural for me to share my top 10 Christmas movies with you all. Bound to fill you up with Christmas cheer, make you laugh, make you cry, or simply sigh with nostalgia, my 10 picks are a must-watch each year at Christmas time. So pop that popcorn, warm up some hot chocolate, and cuddle up with a fuzzy blanket because you have some serious binge watching to do!

10) Die Hard (1988)- Now I know this may not seem like your typical Christmas movie, but Christmas just isn't the same unless I watch Bruce Willis outwit Hans Gruber as he takes his wife hostage during a Christmas party at Nakatomi Plaza. And can we all just go ahead and agree that Bruce Willis is a total hottie in this movie?

9) Elf (2003)- Quite possibly Will Ferrells best piece of work to date. I could listen to Buddy the Elf one liners all day. "Buddy the Elf whats your favorite color?!" You seriously have no heart if you can watch this movie and not be infected with the Christmas spirit.

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8) Prancer (1989)- Perhaps not as well known on the Christmas movie circuit, this was a favorite of mine as a girl. (It doesn't hurt that Sam Elliott is a total babe in a rugged/cowboy kinda way). Young farm girl Jessica Riggs finds, and nurses back to health an injured reindeer she believes to belong to Santa. Her infectious spirit and kind heart are the epitome of Christmas spirit, eventually reaching her emotionally dejected father.

7) Miracle on 34th Street (1947)- This one has been remade a couple times, but I prefer the classic, black and white version. Proving Santa is real in a court of law? And making one skeptic of a little girls Christmas wish come true is enough to leave even the grinchiest among us with not a dry eye.

6) Scrooged (1988)- A modern take on the Dickens classic, A Christmas Carol, cold hearted TV executive (played by Bill Murray) is visited by three ghosts on Christmas Eve. Now you know ANYTHING by Bill Murry, especially from the 80's is gonna be golden.

RELATED: CHRISTMAS LIGHTS! FROM NASCAR TO CHRISTMAS TOWN USA.

5) National Lampoons Christmas Vacation (1989)- Hands down, no questions, my favorite Christmas movie of all time. Perhaps it's because they remind me so much of my own family dysfunctions, but the Griswolds are legends in my eyes. As is any big event in their family, the Christmas celebration planned by Clark turns into a hilariously delightful disaster.

4) A Christmas Story (1983)- Played on a loop for 24 hours every Christmas and I still never get tired of Ralphie as he tries for 94 minutes to convince his family, friends, and teachers he should get a Red Rider BB gun for Christmas. "You'll shoot your eye out!"

3) Home Alone (1990)- Back before Macaulay Culkin fell off the map and sunk into child star oblivion, he rocked it as 8 year old Kevin McAllister who gets left behind in Chicago as his large family travels to Paris for Christmas. His trickster trouble-making with the bumbling burglers Marv and Harry are hilarious and clever.

2) A Charlie Brown Christmas (1965)- What better way to learn the true meaning of Christmas than with the lovable Charlie Brown? A Christmas classic, I can remember watching this on VHS as a child (yes I know, I'm old...). These classic characters are sure to bring a smile to your face.

1) How the Grinch Stole Christmas (1966)- An oldie but goodie, watching the recluse grinch learn the turn meaning of Christmas is a good reminder to us all this time of year! "Maybe Christmas, he thought, doesn't come from a store. Maybe Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more!"

What are some of your favorite holiday movies? Did I miss any goodies? Let me know! please comment below. Happy Holidays!

**photos used courtesy of www.IMBD.com

#xmasMovies

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ralphmorgan-blog1 · 6 years

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The Only Christmas Movies That Are Acceptable To Watch This Holiday Season

Now that Thanksgiving has passed, we’ve all gained 20 pounds, gone down the dark road that is family time, and are on the darker road to Chrismahanakwazakah, it’s time to round up the absolute best ways to kill time alone because sweatpants is all that fits us right now holiday movies. Yah, we’ve all seen them a million times, they’re tacky, and you may be caught dabbing tears out of your eyes, but they’re one of the only things that make us feel feelings during this season of materialism, overcooked in-law dinners, and ironic sweaters. May you, too, be filled with fuzzy and warm feelings of holiday cheer or just get really drunk and enjoy these.

1. 'Elf'

This is Will Ferrell at his fucking finest. Traipsing through New York, getting plowed into by taxis, tasting shitty coffee, and singing loud for all to hear are all part of this magical adventure, and I’m honestly here for it. If you haven’t said “Byeeee Buddy, hope you find your dad” to at least one friend when she wanders out of a bar, I don’t want to know you.

2. 'It’s A Wonderful Life'

If you like, need to cry and feel appreciated, this is probs what you should watch. Grab your sweatpants and watch the 1940s movie that will make you feel low-key annoyed no guy ever offered to buy you the moon.

3. 'Die Hard'

I don’t even care if this doesn’t count—it’s amazing. It’s amazing in July, it’s amazing in September, and goddamnit, it’s amazing at Christmas time. Watching Bruce Willis in his glory days thwart crime while making v 80s comebacks is perfect with alcoholic eggnog and a slice of pie.

4. 'Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer'

This OG creepy claymation movie is life. It’s the ultimate story of revenge—kid gets made fun of for having what is clearly a serious deformity, runs away, meets a monster and homeless Yukon pervert who licks gold, kidnaps a lady deer, then takes vengeance and highjacks Santa’s sleigh. That’s pretty much exactly how this movie goes, with all its 60s wholesomeness plus some sing-a-longs.

5. 'How The Grinch Stole Christmas'

NOT THE ATROCIOUSLY BAD JIM CARREY VERSION. I’m talking the original animated 30-minute Grinch that struck fear into children's hearts back in the 60s. Not only do I know all the words to every song in this feature, but I identify a lot with the Grinch, who, at the end of the day, just wanted some goddamn peace and quiet. My heart, too, is several sizes too small, and I’m not ashamed of that.

6. National Lampoon’s 'Christmas Vacation'

Nothing helps me identify with feeling like I’m in a goddamn insane asylum when my in-laws are around than watching Chevy Chase literally hallucinate imaginary women in this classic. If you, too, get kicks from animals being electrocuted by trees, sewage running down streets, and rampant child endangerment, this is the movie for you.

7. 'Home Alone'

Full disclosure, I hadn’t seen this movie all the way through until last year. My first question is, who are these parents that leave a kid at home in that fucking mansion? Second question, wtf does Mr. McCallister do for a fucking living and is he available? Watch this and the sequel just for the Trump cameo, then cry yourself to sleep.

8. 'The Nightmare Before Christmas'

Idk if this is a Halloween movie or a Christmas movie, but something about kidnapping Santa, terrorizing children, and ghost dogs really got me. Real thought—isn’t this a lil dark to be a children’s movie? I feel like it more closely aligns with being an artistic autobiography of Tim Burton’s real life adventures.

9. 'A Christmas Story'

So much good here. If you, for some unknown reason, have not managed to see at least 30 minutes of this while it airs for 24 hours straight on Christmas day, shame on you. Do yourself a favor and bask in the glory that is a fishnet-clad lamp, the wonder of saying "fuck" in front of your parents, and understanding what happens when you lick a frozen flagpole.

10. 'Charlie Brown Christmas'

You know you’ve referred to the bundle of sticks you call a tree as a Charlie Brown Christmas tree. This shit has a chokehold on visions of Christmas, and it’s all thanks to these wacky kids and their unsupervised adventures.

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45 Fun Holiday Activities & Spirited Things to Do

How about this yr all of us overworked, frazzled procrastinators have a enjoyable plan to maintain us on monitor? A Christmas Bucket Listing stuffed with enjoyable issues to do might be that plan.

Begin this vacation bucket record in early December and it’ll not solely preserve you on a greater schedule for the season, however the actions may even get you within the spirit of Christmas.

1. ✧ Mail a Letter to Santa

2. ✦ Attend a Tree Lighting Ceremony

3. ✧ Get Your Image with Santa

4. ✧ Go to a Native Christmas Pageant

5. ✦ Make a Selfmade Reward

Caught for concepts? Listed here are dozens of cool DIY issues to do for items:

6. ✧ Join With an Out of City Good friend

The vacation season is the right time meet up with an outdated buddy that you just haven’t related with shortly.

7. ✦ Make an Decoration

8. ✦ Sip on Sizzling Chocolate by the Fireplace

9. ✦ Create Handmade Christmas Playing cards

10. ✧ Make a Christmas Tune Playlist

Christmas music has come a great distance through the years—it looks as if each main artist has a tune or album. Use spotify to create your excellent playlist!

Having a tough time considering of songs? Esquire has made it straightforward with the 30 Finest Christmas Songs of All Time.

11. ✦ Donate a Toy

Don’t know what the recent toys are this season? Right here’s Amazon’s record of the High 100 Toys.

12. ✦ Chop Down Your Personal Christmas Tree

13. ✦ Watch a Vacation Film Favourite

It’s a Fantastic Life

Elf

A Christmas Story

Miracle on 34th Avenue

14. ✦ Make a Wreath for Your Entrance Door

15. ✧ Cover or Discover the Elf on a Shelf

Make certain to get yours nicely upfront! You’ll be able to order Elf on a Shelf right here.

16. ✦ See the Nutcracker Ballet

17. ✧ Learn ‘Twas the Night time Earlier than Christmas

It’s the traditional poem that ought to have a spot in each Christmas lovers house. You may get your personal copy right here.

18. ✦ Construct a Snowman or Make a Snowman Angel

19. ✧ Make a Popcorn Garland for the Tree

20. ✧ Roast Chestnuts on an Open Fireplace

21. ✦ Spend an Night Wrapping Presents

22. ✧ Construct a Gingerbread Home

Learn extra: 60 or the Finest Gingerbread Home Concepts

23. ✦ Cling Stockings

24. ✧ Volunteer

25. ✦ Make Paper Snowflakes

26. ✦ Go Ice Skating

27. ✦ Attend Midnight Christmas Eve Service at Church

28. ✧ Go Christmas Caroling

Don’t know what to sing? Right here at some high Christmas carols with the lyrics.

29. ✦ Get Dressed Up and Attend a Vacation Occasion

30. ✧ Donate Your Unused Mittens and Jackets

31. ✦ Do a Random Act of Kindness

Random acts of kindness are a few of the most fulfilling and most humane and human issues you may ever do. Particularly when it’s performed for a whole stranger.

Donate some meals

Pay the bridge toll for the particular person behind you

Go to an animal orphanage and assist out for the day

Feed somebody’s parking meter.

32. ✦ Spend the Day Baking Christmas Cookies

33. ✧ Arrange a Secret Santa Reward Change

34. ✧ Make an Creation Calendar

Want Concepts? See Buzzfeed’s 33 Intelligent And Lovable DIY Creation Calendars and Condominium Remedy’s 35 DIY Creation Calendars to Make Now So You’re Prepared for December

35. ✦ Drink Eggnog

If you wish to make your personal, do this recipe by Alton Brown. Not an enormous eggnog fan? How about simply including slightly eggnog taste to your espresso with this eggnog Torani syrup.

36. ✧ Make and Put on an Ugly Christmas Sweater

37. ✦ Have a Snowball Combat

Don’t get on the market unarmed, study Find out how to Make the Good Snowball first!

38. ✦ Make Your Christmas Listing

39. ✦ Begin a New Custom

40. ✦ Eat a Sweet Cane

41. ✦ Kiss Somebody Below the Mistletoe

42. ✦ Take a Household Christmas Picture

43. ✦ Take a look at the Vacation Lights in your Neighborhood

44. ✦ Put on a Santa Hat in Public

45. ✦ Depart Cookies for Santa Claus

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