Summary: You meet Eddie at a mutual friends’ Christmas Party, and somehow find yourselves locked in a closet.
Word Count: 2.5k
Warnings: Make out session, language, alcohol
A/N: Fic #3 here we go! I'm super proud of myself for completing everything that I have so far since I'm moving and also taking finals at the same time. So I hope you guys are proud of me too. I say as I post this late
Reminder that I am accepting prompts/pairings until the end of December!
Robin was your best friend. The two of you had met in elementary school when she had punched Robbie Durkin in the nose when he took your backpack from you, and you had been inseparable ever since. You'd practically grown up together, and had been there for each other through everything. Hell, you were the first person that Robin had ever come out to! It was safe to say that the two of you would do almost anything for each other. Emphasis on the almost.
"Robin Buckley you will get that monstrosity away from me right now or I will scream so loud the neighbors will order a wellness check!"
Robin had cornered you in her room, corralling you with her arms as you furiously backed yourself further into the corner. In her hands she held the absolute ugliest sweater you had ever seen.
"It's not even that bad!" She reasoned, throwing up her hands in exasperation and allowing you to dash by her. "Everyone there is gonna be wearing one!" She lunged at you and managed to snag your foot as you jumped out of the way.
"I don't care if Jesus Christ himself is gonna be there wearing one, I'm not putting that thing on." You were hobbling down the hallway, dragging her behind you as she valiantly held on to your foot.
"Please," she begged, trying to drag herself onto her elbows so that she could grab your other foot. "I cannot show up to this thing alone and Vickie is out of town for Christmas."
"Don't care," you called back at her, using the banister of the stairs to drag your bodyweight and hers along.
"Fine. Fine!." She huffed and let go of your foot, sitting up and crossing her legs. "I didn't wanna have to do this ya know."
"What, go to a party alone? You'll survive!" You were halfway down the stairs and the front door was within sight.
"Last month's drive in!" she called out simply.
You stopped in your tracks and groaned. Last month Robin had interrupted her own date with Vickie to stop by and pick you up from a disastrous date at the drive in theater. You had told her that you would pay her back with a favor anytime she needed one. God you were really regretting that.
You sighed and took a deep breath before turning your head up at the ceiling, stomping your feet a little, and turning back around. Dejected and depressed, you trudged back up the stairs.
Robin was still sitting with her legs crossed, the sweater tossed across her lap and a smug smile on her face. You stopped across from her and folded your arms.
"Three hours," you said as you snatched the sweater from her lap. "You get three hours of me in this, not a minute more, and then I burn the damn thing."
She jumped up and hugged you with a grin. "Thank you thank you thank you thank you!"
The next thing you knew the two of you were outside of Steve Harrington's house wearing the most hideous things that you had ever seen. Music pulsed from the walls - cheesy holiday songs that were frankly overplayed in your opinion - and you tugged at your collar as the two of you waited for someone to answer the door.
" . . should we just go in?" Robin asked hesitantly.
You hummed and thought about it for a moment before deciding that yes, yes you should just go in, and opened the door. You're pretty sure that Robin may have called out in protest the second your hand grabbed the door knob, but frankly you couldn't care less. The three hour timer would start the second you crossed the threshold of the house and by god were you eager to get it over with.
If you thought the sweaters were ugly, the inside of the house was down right foul. It looked like a Christmas card threw up inside - a fact you told Robin without any hesitation whatsoever.
"Robin!" A voice called out. The both of you looked up to find Steve Harrington with a smile on his face and a glass of eggnog in his hand. He was surrounded by a few other people - all in ugly sweaters to match.
You recognized Nancy Wheeler from classes, and Johnathon Byers standing next to her. You were neutral on the two of them. They'd never gone out of their way to talk to you before, but then again all of you had run in different social circles so it wasn't too hard to understand. But the man standing the the right of Harrington was someone new, and that meant he was someone mildly intriguing.
He wore his curly dark hair in a mullet - which didn't look all that bad on him you had to admit - and was waving a solo cup full of some sort of liquor around. You were able to see the rings that adorned his hands, and the tattoos that just barely peeked out from underneath his almost equally hideous sweater. You weren't going to lie, he was kind of cute.
"Who's that?" You asked Robin as the two of you started to wade through the crowd towards the group.
"Who? Eddie?"
"Eddie? Why does that name sound familiar?"
She raised an eyebrow at you and tilted her head. "He was absolutely notorious for selling weed in school."
It clicked and you gasped. "Oh my god you're right!" You paused for a moment before slyly leaning closer to Robin. "Do you think he still sells?"
She elbowed you in the ribs as a sign to shut the hell up as you approached the group, and you bit the inside of your cheek to hold back your laugh.
Robin enthusiastically greeted the group and introduced you, and you managed to paste a smile onto your face that only looked half sarcastic as you shook everyone's hand.
"You've got a nice place, Harrington," you said, looking around appreciatively at the house around you. It was your one and only attempt at breaking the ice in a civil way. If this failed, you were tempted to see just how many shots you could take before you passed out. Hopefully it was that kind of Christmas party.
"Thanks, I could give you a tour if you want," he replied with a sly grin, leaning back onto the counter behind him.
You had to physically hold yourself back from laughing. Steve was great, and it was evident in the few seconds that you had seen him that he had changed since highs chool and mellowed out. But it seemed that a few things - like his insatiable need to flirt - had never truly gone away.
"Tempting offer, but you aren't exactly my type," you replied. The others around you hid their laughter behind hands and coughs, and you gave yourself a point for socializing before deciding that you deserved a reward.
"I will, however, take an escort to wherever the drinks are located." You clapped your hands and gave the group a pointed smile.
Another round of smiles and laughter (another point for you), and Eddie stepped forwards with his cup.
"I'll show ya," he took a pause and downed the rest of the drink inside his glass. "Besides, I need a refill too." He grinned, all lopsided and goofy, and you felt a small tug in your stomach.
Fuck the weed, maybe you wanted him for Christmas.
You smiled back at him, less sarcastic than the last, and motioned for him to continue. "Lead the way."
". . So how do you know everyone?" You asked as you followed Eddie away from the group. "I mean, no offense at all but everyone kind of ran in totally different circles in high school."
He laughed a little and scratched the back of his head, that same lopsided grin still etched into his face. "It's kind of a long story, but we all have a mutual friend."
"Oh? Who?" You watched as Eddie began to make a concoction that looked like eggnoog but worse somehow and wrinkled your nose.
"I'm not sure you'd know him," he supplied as he took a sip of his drink. Apparently he'd found it wanting, and he grabbed a few more bottles of mixers and liquor to add.
"Try me."
He hesitated slightly. "Dustin? Dustin Henderson?"
". . The kid?"
"Yeah. The kid."
"Everyone in that little group is friends with a kid? Like a genuine kid?"
Eddie was strategically looking down at his drink. "Yeah. It's kinda weird, huh?"
You rapped your fingers against your cup as you thought about it. "He's technically only a few years younger, so it's not as weird as it could be I guess? But if he goes missing I'm pointing the cops this way first."
Eddie laughed again and the tension in his body eased. He must've been a little worried about your reaction. "Not my way though, right?" He flashed you a pout as he moved out of the way of the other party goers and leaned against a nearby wall.
You looked up at Eddie over the rim of your drink, humming to yourself as you let your eyes drag down over him appreciatively. "Depends," you mused, leaning closer to him on instinct. "Do I get a house tour?"
Eddie raised his eyebrows at you and leaned back against the wall. "Yeah? Thought Harrington wasn't 'your type'." He replied, using his hands to mime air quotes.
You grinned and shook your head. "He isn't. I was hoping that you'd fill in for him though." You took a sip of your drink and watched as the lightbulb went off in Eddie's head.
He licked his lips and looked at you with a considerably darker look than before. "Yeah. I can do that. I know my way around the house well enough."
"Perfect!" You placed your drink down on the kitchen counter and clasped your hands behind you.
The two of you set off on your little unofficial house tour immediately, and you were insanely pleased that you had found a very productive way to spend your three hours. Eddie led you up the stairs first, spewing some bullshit about what room was what. According to him, the Harrington’s had at least five bathrooms if not more. He pointed out a few rooms, and the two of you almost went into them before you’d heard sounds of movement inside them all. Evidently you weren’t the only two people looking to sneak away.
“Can’t get no damn privacy huh,” you spoke up as the two of you made another loop upstairs.
“A damn shame. Though it means that I get to look at that amazing sweater even longer,” Eddie mused, swiftly dodging the arm that you swung his way in response.
“You better shut it or I’m gonna go down and grab Harrington,” you threatened with a very unconvincing glare.
Eddie gasped and placed a hand over his heart. “You wouldn’t dare! After I’ve given you such a grand tour!”
You stopped in front of a door to your left and looked over your shoulder at him. “Nah, I wouldn’t. ‘Sides,” you glanced down at the rings on his hands and grinned as you opened the door. “I like my necklaces to be decorated.” You glanced inside and frowned. “Another damn closet -”
He had you pushed against a wall before you had time to react, one hand cushioning your head while the other closed the door and then pressed against your hips, cementing your place. His lips crashed into yours immediately and you met them eagerly, hands threading through his hair.
“Keep talking like that and I’m really gonna desecrate this house,” he mumbled against your lips before going back for more.
Honestly? You weren’t opposed to the idea.
He kissed you like he was starving, like you were his final meal. One of his hands moved to push your chin up, giving him a better angle and you groaned in appreciation as his tongue met yours.
The kiss was messy. Feral. Tongues and teeth clashed and you knew in a heartbeat that you would want this again. Want him again. His lips left yours and you opened your mouth to complain right as they landed on your neck instead. Your complaint turned into a whine and your head fell back against the wall, your breaths coming out heavier.
Eddie's teeth nipped at your pulse point and you bit down another whine, doing your best to be quiet in the stupidly small closet that the two of you were shoved into. You felt one of his hands start to slip under the edge of your shirt and you managed to find your voice.
"I don't wanna fuck you in a closet," you panted out, tugging on his hair to get his attention.
Eddie pulled back to look at you and you almost took back the statement. His eyes were blown wide, his lips swollen, and his chest was heaving from exertion. But he kept his eyes locked right on yours. Right on you.
His tongue darted out to lick his lips as he nodded at you and you went weak at the knees. "Okay." He nodded again, removing his hand from under your shirt. "Okay." The one at your chin slipped down to your neck and he started to move his tumb in soothing circles. "We can just do this. Just this."
You nodded your head, licking your own lips in turn as you stared at him. Your hands left his hair and you moved them down to smooth out his stupid sweater. "Good. Good." You spied a chain hanging around his neck and you hooked one of your fingers in it, tugging on it experimentally. "Because when I do fuck you Im gon' need a hell of a lot more room."
You watched as the same look took over his face. The same darkening gaze, the same hunger, and then you used his necklace to pull him right back in for more.
Maybe there was a fizzle of romance there, maybe there wasn’t. You knew for a fact that you liked him enough for a repeat, and if the sizable tent in his pants was any indication he felt the same way. But you were more concerned with the feeling of skilled lips against yours and a barely restrained hunger in his hands as they twisted against your sweater and tugged on it desperately.
Fuck Robin and fuck the party. You were gonna do this all night.
.
.
.
Find more Yuletide fun at my Fanfic Advent Calendar!
“I want to try something. I think you will like.” Ilya sees Shane’s throat bob as he swallows. Shane finally nods with an awkward jerk of his head. Ilya can’t stop the corner of his mouth from turning up. He walks across the room slowly, before turning around and staring down Shane.
“Get on your knees and crawl to me.”
(aka hollanov first puppy play)
Summary: As a bartender at The Last Drop, you’ve become well aware that Silco refuses to participate in any and all holiday traditions - but Sevika tends to be a little more lenient. So you put up some mistletoe over the bar for the patrons to enjoy. And then over the front door, and on the bouncer, and in the bathroom. It never becomes too much of a problem until you hang some over Silco's office.
Word Count: 5k
Warnings: Language, brief mentions of violence, suggestive content, brief mentions of blood
A/N: Prompt 2. We are alive. We are here. Disclaimer! I don't know shit about bartending. Or how a bar is set up. Or how to change a keg.
Part Two
Your job at The Last Drop could be described as strenuous, taxing, and on a good day exhausting. You dealt with the worst of the worst of the underbelly in the Undercity. Drunks, Shimmer addicts, and bad tippers. But the pay was good, and the other bartender was funny, so you endured. You pulled graveyard shifts and walked home at 7am. You mopped up puke and blood alike and dealt with handsy patrons and terrible flirts.
But arguably the worst part of working there was dealing with the Eye of Zaun himself. You'd only seen him a handful of times, and had interacted with him sparingly. Sevika, his right hand, had been the one to conduct your interview and hire you. She was - in a sense - your manager, and the one who updated you about new club procedures and safety rules. But Silco, he was the boss.
The first time that you had seen him, you had just been settling into the job. Staying firmly away from the Shimmer deals (as Sevika grudgingly said you could), you had found the job to be much alike to your other bartending gigs. You made drinks, chatted with customers, and made sure that no one broke the threshold between rowdy and too rowdy.
You had been polishing some of the whiskey glasses before opening, humming along to the music you had hooked up through the sound system to pass the time. You'd turned around to put the group of glasses that you had just finished away and when you turned back he was just there. Sitting at the bar. Observing.
You jumped back a little, surprised and honestly a little scared. You had heard horror stories about this man. Tall tales that starred him dismembering and torturing anyone who came between him and his goal. Hell, you had watched at least three men get pulled out of his office this week, bloody and beaten to an unrecognizable pulp.
Sevika had dragged them out the door by their feet, their heads thunking on the doorframe as she ran them into it for good measure.
You weren't ignorant to what happened in the Undercity. You knew what violence was, and you'd even been a contributor to it at one point. But this man? The one sitting right in front of you scrutinizing you with a glowing red eye? He put it all to shame.
So you did what any well intentioned employee who wanted to live would do.
"Hi!"
You knew the second that you spoke up that you had messed up. Your voice was too strained and happy, and you winced as you heard it crack. Fuck.
He pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes slightly.
Yeah no you were totally fucked.
He scanned you, and it felt an awful lot like he was eyeing his prey, before he gently raised one hand to the bars' counter and rapped his knuckles against it.
A drink, he just wanted a drink. You let out the breath you had been holding and nodded your head, turning around to grab one of the freshly polished glasses. You reached to grab some ice as well, but paused before you did.
Your other coworker, Jax, had mentioned to you that Silco liked to come down to the bar for a drink every once in a while. He had shown you where the good whiskey was, and after a warning that it was only intended for Silco's use, had mentioned that he never, ever drank the whiskey with ice.
You hoped the way that you swooped away from the ice well to set the empty glass on the counter was smooth.
Judging by the tch you heard from the Eye of Zaun, it wasn't.
You chose to ignore it as you grabbed the good whiskey, pouring a generous two fingers worth into his glass, and slid it over to him.
He took it and left without a word.
After that, you'd only seen him a handful of times - walking into the club and observing the room from his balcony as patrons filed in. Once though, you had watched as yet another bloody mess of a person got dragged out of his office. You'd gotten used to seeing it at this point, so it wasn't as shocking as the first few times. But his door curiously remained open, and he stepped out a few moments later.
Your mouth had run dry. Your stomach flipping over itself as you gripped the bar counter just a little bit tighter. His knuckles were split and bloody and his hair has been rustled out of place. He had rolled his sleeves up to the elbow - presumably to avoid dirtying them, although they had still caught some of the stray blood spatter, and his chest was heaving slightly with exertion. Silco looked delicious.
He'd watched the man get dragged by his arms out of the club, and then somehow, his eyes had gone straight to yours. It took everything in you to drag your gaze away quickly, choosing instead to force yourself to look down at the drink that you were supposed to be making. The customer in-front of you certainly hadn’t forgotten about it - waving money in front of your face and drunkenly gloating as to how he would withhold your tip if the drink wasn’t finished soon.
You placated him with a smile, sweet as sugar cane, and leaning forward just a tad bit more so that he could leer down your low cut top. It quickly did the trick, and he failed to complain in the remaining time it took for you to make his drink. But still, you’d been distracted. You were sure that Sevika had noticed, and you knew for a fact that Silco had. It wouldn’t look good for you to be staring off into the distance at your completely unattainable boss when you could be serving customers and making the club more money. So you’d vowed to do your best to ignore Silco.
As the months got cooler, and the club got busier, it became easier and easier to keep your promise to yourself. Everyone was coming inside to warm up, and liquor was key to the process. You and Jax received seasonal help in the form of a barback who usually worked at The Last Drop this time of year. Evidently, his usual job was centered outside and would leave him out in the cold and snow, so he had made a habit of seeking out temporary indoor jobs during the winter. You couldn’t remember his name for the life of you (Henry? Harry?) but you were glad for the assistance all the same.
The colder months brought a sense of the Yuletide spirit along with an influx of customers, and you had begun to have a few ideas as to how to make the club more festive in light of the holiday season. One day after close, you were finally able to corner Sevika and ask her about them.
“Hey Sev?,” you asked, walking up to her as she finished debriefing the bouncer for the night. You were pretty sure his name was Kevin. Or Calvin. But he answered to Kev all the same.
She frowned a little at the nickname, but let it slide, answering you with a low hum.
“I was wondering if we were going to put up any decorations inside the club for Yuletide.”
Her face changed from mildly annoyed to disgusted. “Hell no.”
You scoffed slightly. “What do you mean ‘hell no’?”
“It’s very simple, it means hell no.”
“Is there a reason?”
She sighed and tilted her head back to look at the ceiling. “We haven’t done it before, and I don’t see why we should do it now.”
You shrugged. “I think it would be nice for the customers, ya know. They could get a little holly while they’re getting their jollies.” You grinned.
She pinched the bridge of her nose in exasperation and you had to stop from celebrating early. She was starting to get sick of this conversation you could tell. And one way to get what you wanted from Sevika was to annoy the shit out of her until she gave up and gave in.
“You guys wouldn’t even have to buy anything,” you offered in a sly tone. “I have decorations at home I could bring in and put up free of charge.” You paused for a moment before adding, “Along with this wonderful full bottle of vodka that would look great in your office.” You attempt at bribery was, quite frankly, terrible for someone born and raised in the Undercity. But it was effective.
She sighed and waved her hand at you. “Fine. Fine. Do what you want, it can't hurt. Just make sure both bottles of vodka are in my hands by the end of the week.”
You were too happy that she had given in to be upset about losing another bottle of booze, and nodded at her with a grin. “Aye aye, cap’n!”
The very next day the club contained a spattered mess of Yuletide decorations. Garlands hung up above the DJ booth, small fake trees fixed with bows and mini presents were placed sporadically on the bar, and twinkling lights were hung up over the rack of liquor that made up the back wall of the bar. The one main decoration that invited a little bit of holiday mischief, however, was the sprig of mistletoe that you had hung over the customer side of the bar. It hovered closer to the edge of the counter, so that two customers standing next to each other would be able to have it in-between them. You just hoped it didn’t instigate too many fights.
Jax shook his head when we saw it. “You’re gonna be causin’ a lot of shit to go down, you know that right?”
You grinned at him as you continued to stock the bar. “That’s the plan!”
He laughed softly and started to help you, passing you the bottles that you needed. “Ya know, there’s probably gonna be a few customers tryna get you under that thing.”
“To which I will charitably oblige,” you replied with a shrug. “For the right price, of course.” You both let out loud booming laughs and settled back into the comfortable conversation about Jaxs’ partner and the new stray that they had brought in - an increasingly common topic.
Later that night, you were able to witness the mistletoe in action quite a few times. You were very proud of the fact that only one fight broke out! You were a little less proud of the fact that three guys actually did in fact fork over some money to have you respect the mistletoe rules. You pocketed the money (of course, you’d be dumb not to) and gave them a chaste kiss on the cheek which was usually met with groans from them and a sly wink from you.
You could've sworn that you felt someone watching you though during all of it. You’d looked around during a few free moments at the bar, but didn’t see anyone staring directly at you so you wrote it off. But regardless, you’d still felt a pair of eyes burrowing into your back for the rest of your night. It messed up your groove and sent you spiraling into a bad mood. You did your best to work through it, but Jax noticed about halfway through the night and switched you off to less customer based activities. You didn’t say it, but you were thankful.
You eventually made it through the shift, and told Jax that he could head home early as a thank you for earlier in the night. He gratefully accepted, and left you to finish up the closing tasks with the new barback.
“Could you do me a favor and replace those last two kegs? I think we’ll be all good after that.” You nodded your head towards the storage room door with a smile as you sat on the floor, reorganizing the liquor cabinets in the hopes it would help you out a little bit more tomorrow.
“Yeah absolutely!” (Hector? Harmond?) replied with an enthusiastic clap of his hands before heading off to the storage room. He was a nice kid. He was just really chipper.
You settled back into your work, pulling out various liquor bottles and wiping them down, before alphabetizing them on the ground with the plan to put them all back later. You'd gotten about five more minutes in before you'd heard a sharp rap on the counter behind you.
You whipped your head around, slightly startled, and blinked as you stared straight back at The Eye of Zaun himself. He stood at the counter, looking down at you with an incredibly unimpressed look as he surveyed the mess around you. His knuckles rapped against the counter again.
It took you a moment to gain your bearings, and then another moment to realize that you were sitting on the floor surrounded by liquor bottles and that it was probably not the best look in front of the big scary man who held your job and your life in his hands. And then a third moment to realize that he was demanding a drink.
“Shit,” you swore under your breath, carefully standing up and hoping that you didn’t knock over any bottles as you moved to the cabinet that held the whiskey. You managed to get the whiskey and the glass without accident, and walked them over to Silco with a flourish.
He simply raised an eyebrow. “Do you often leave my bar in such . . . disarray?” He asked as you poured him a glass. He held up a hand when he wanted you to stop, and you obliged.
“I’m reorganizing, sir.” you replied, putting the lid back on the bottle but leaving it on the counter all the same. “I want it to be easier on us during the rushes.”
He hummed. “I meant this.” He pointedly looked up at the mistletoe hanging directly between the two of you from the ceiling, and then gave a pointed look at the rest of the Yuletide decorations.
You followed his finger and glanced up, embarrassment quickly coloring your features. “Oh.” For a second, you realized that the two of you were technically under the plant. Images flashed quickly through your mind of you and Silco kissing. Would it be soft and chaste? Just a small brush of the lips for the sake of the tradition? Or would it be deeper, more animalistic and claiming. The bite of his hands gripping your hair. The edge of the counter digging into your hips as you leaned across it - or maybe got bent over.
You cleared your throat and blinked quickly, dispelling the images and tapping your fingers nervously against the counter. “It’s just meant to be in the spirit of the holiday,” you replied, your voice far more strained than before. “I asked Sevika and she okayed it.”
His eyes narrowed slightly and you quickly realized your mistake.
“But of course if you don’t want it up I’ll take it down. I should have checked with you as well, that’s my mistake.” You looked around and the ground behind you, searching for the small stool that was tucked under a shelf with the plan to take down the mistletoe.
He hummed and set his glass down with a clink, stopping you in your tracks. He only ever put his glass down on the bar when it’s empty, and it was still very much full. “Don’t make it a second time.” His voice is hard and leaves no room for argument, and he stares at you until you nod in agreement. “You can keep the decorations up until the end of the season, but any other changes are run through me, not Sevika. Understood?”
You nod again, hands clasped in front of yourself as you stare at him. You were doing your best to avoid twisting them together due to your rising anxiety, and you’d say that you’re doing a pretty good job.
Silco appraises you for a long minute before he makes a soft sound and drains the rest of the liquor in his glass. He stands up from the bar and sets his drink down - gentler this time - and pushes his seat in. “Good girl.” He says it with a purr, and for a second you think you hallucinated it.
You stand there, dumbfounded, as he walks all the way back up to his office. You’re glued to the spot replaying those two words in your head. Good girl. Your mind keeps flashing between Silco saying that to you. Silco walking out of his office with bloody fists and messy hair. Silco kissing you under the mistletoe and bending you over the counter so that he could figure out just how good of a girl you could be. Silco putting his hands -
A loud thunk sounded to your left and you whipped around to face the storage room, face bright red. Hammond or Haymitch or whatever his name was was looking at you sheepishly. “Sorry!” he called out, rubbing the back of his neck. “The empty keg just hit the wall a little.”
You gave him what you hoped was a not so shaky smile. “Don’t worry about it! You’re all good to go, I’m just gonna finish up here and then I’ll be on my way as well.”
“Are you sure you don’t want me to wait up for you?” he asked as he pulled on his jacket.
You waved him off. “Nah, don’t worry about it. I grew up in the Lanes, I can handle myself.”
He shrugged as he grabbed his keys and zipped up his coat. “Alright. Well, get home safe!” he called out with a wave as he left the bar.
You waited until the door closed before you hunched over the bar with a groan, cradling your head in your hands. “Oh I am so fucked.”
You made the decision to move the mistletoe the next day.
A totally sane and rational decision that had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that you likely would not be able to handle getting caught under it with your boss again. Nope. Absolutely nothing to do with that at all.
For some strange reason, you decided that the front door would be a better option. Obviously, you weren’t all mentally there. The amount of times that the bouncer (Kev, you hoped) had needed to break up handsy couples to keep the line moving or get into the middle of an arguing couple due to the holiday plant was enormous. You felt so bad for him at the end of the night that you gave him two free shots and decided to move the mistletoe again.
The bathroom couldn’t be a terrible place, right?
Wrong.
Couples chose to take the mistletoe as an invitation to do far more than kiss inside the bathroom, which led to a line a mile long and a very pissed off Sevika. You offered her a sheepish smile and decided to move it again.
Every new spot that you found for the mistletoe ended up having more drawbacks than positives, but after a certain amount of time the patrons were actually looking forward to seeing where it would be placed the next night. It became a game for them to look for it - which meant more customers and more sales - so Sevika started to let a few more incidents slide because of it. In fact, she even started to suggest new locations for it.
So you put it above her private booth so that she could kiss a few pretty ladies. You got permission from Kev to tape it to a headband so that he could get in on the fun as well. The DJ booth got it one night, and you switched it around the various seating areas. And then one night, after far too many shots due to Jaxs’ goading, you were inspired.
You walked right up to Silco’s office door and pasted it on there with a drunken grin.
Looking back on it the next morning with a raging hangover, and early morning sunlight streaming through your curtains, you weren’t exactly too sure how you’d even gotten up to his office in the first place. Usually there were at least two or three guards stationed at the staircase to it, not to mention the rolling patrols around the top level in general. But the question of how was quickly overlooked with the growing horror over the realization that you had actually done it.
Your head was pounding and the room was spinning a little still but fuck if you didn’t throw on a jacket and some boots in record time before dashing out the door. Okay maybe hobbling out the door before you managed something that resembled a run. You were going to give Jax such an earful for egging you on so much last night.
You managed to make your way to The Last Drop, hurriedly opening the door and making a mad dash for the stairs. It was still the early hours of the morning, barely 7am. It was likely that Silco would still be asleep and hadn’t even left his rooms yet, which would mean that he hadn’t seen the mistletoe yet. And if that was true, then there was still time to take it down before he saw it and you lost your job. And probably also your life. Or at least your hand.
Kev met you at the stairs, raising one eyebrow in a question as you frantically looked between him and the mistletoe glaring at you from above Silcos’ office.
“Kev. Buddy. I’m beggin’ you,” you whispered, clasping your hands together in front of you. “You gotta let me up real quick.”
He shook his head and leaned against the stair railing. “You know I can’t do that. Gotta do my job jus’ like you gotta do yours.” He pulled out a cigarette and placed it between his teeth as he patted his pockets, trying to find his lighter.
“Please!” you begged, tapping your fingers nervously. “Look I had a few too many last night and I fucked up a little okay! I gotta fix it before anyone else sees.”
He raised an eyebrow and flicked his lighter open, clearly unimpressed. “An’ how’s that my problem, hm?” The cigarette caught and he tucked his lighter away before taking a puff.
You groaned and leaned your head back, debating if you should even tell him or if it would get you into more trouble. Eventually, the need to grab that stupid plant before anyone else saw won out. “Because I put the mistletoe on The Boss’ door.”
He stopped, cigarette pulled slightly away from his lips, and stared at you. “You. Fucking. What.”
“I put the stupid fucking mistletoe on his stupid fucking door because I was stupid fucking drunk and I gotta go fix it before he wakes up!”
“Shit girl.” Kev looked up at the ceiling in exasperation. “Fuck.” He paused for another second before he moved fully out of your way. “Go fucking get that shit now!”
“Thank you so much I owe you and I love you Kev!” you called out as you ran up the stairs. You could see the mistletoe. It was staring right at you and taunting you. You were so close.
You rushed to the stop in front of the office door, breathing heavily still from your run to the club. With a cocky grin on your face you stood up on your tiptoes, braced one hand on the door, and reached for the plant.
You really truly should have known better.
Without warning the door swung open, and you fell inside landing right on the floor. Your hands caught most of your fall, but you still hissed as the shock ran through your palms. “Ow,” you muttered, rising up onto your knees and taking a quick look at your hands to survey the damage. They didn’t look too bad, just a little red.
“Ah shit,” you whispered, wincing as you lifted your head and turned to look at the door.
There was Silco, looking thoroughly unamused. In fact, he looked down right pissed. He wasn’t glaring at you per se, more like he was mentally pulling you apart limb from limb with his eyes. And one eye in particular was locked on you, burning like an ember and barely able to contain its’ rage. His upper lip curled in disgust, and you fought the urge to shrink in on yourself and make yourself appear smaller. This was your fault. You’d fucked up.
You opened your mouth, maybe in an attempt to apologize, maybe to try and explain why exactly you had been lingering outside his door and had fallen into his office. Either way, you didn’t get to say anything. He cut you off before you even began with a mere look.
Slowly, oh so slowly, he turned his gaze to his office door where you had been perched moments earlier, and then looked up.
Your heart dropped. His grip tightened on his door handle. The world slowed down as you watched him furiously reach up and tear down the mistletoe before slamming his door shut.
You flinched at the noise, drawing your legs up to your chest. “I . . I can explain,” you started, raising your hands in a pleading motion.
He turned around to look at you, and you almost stood up and ran. His gaze was lethal, burrowing into you and burning everything it saw. You’d lived in the Undercity your whole life. You had watched people die in countless ways, had even killed a few when you were young and dumb, but nothing had scared you as much as this man standing in front of you right now.
“What, exactly, did I tell you?” He asked quietly, his voice shaking slightly with the effort of holding himself back. Silco was always a composed man. He spoke and acted exactly as planned, never more and never less. But if he was struggling to keep himself in check right now, you had really fucked up.
You swallowed thickly and looked down at the floor in front of you, feeling off kilter sitting on the floor still but lacking the guts to stand up. “You told me that any other changes should be run through you.”
He clicked his tongue in disappointment and stepped closer to you so that he was directly in front of you. “Stop talking to the floor and look at me.” You lifted your head obediently and he stooped down, grabbing your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Good girl. Now say it again.”
Your mouth ran dry. You didn't know what to think, what to feel. But one constant word ran through your mind like a mantra. Obey. So you swallowed thickly, and repeated it like he'd asked. “You told me that any other changes should be run through you.”
He grinned. It wasn't comforting. The smile pulled a little tight on his face, and it looked more feral than reassuring. But it stirred something in you - a heat deep in your stomach that twisted and had a blush forming on your cheeks.
“There we go. Now that wasn't so hard, was it?”
You shook your head, acutely aware of the pressure his hand still had on your chin. “No, sir.”
He hummed and his thumb pressed against your bottom lip. You were rooted to the ground. Stuck staring at him as he scrutinized you and kept his anger at bay. The hand now grasping your chin kept you there like an anchor, like a weight.
“You still disobeyed.” He spoke softer this time, but with more meaning. He seemed to be thinking, hesitating. “I’ll give you a choice.”
You blinked up at him. The word ‘choice’ seemed foreign to him, an alien in his vocabulary that he was trying to use for the first time.
“You can take your punishment tonight. Come up here after you close up and accept it willingly.” He paused, and pulled at your bottom lip slightly, his eyes locked on the movement. “Or, I can fire you right now. And you never come back.” He narrowed his eyes as he spoke, flitting them up to look directly at you.
There was a sane answer to this. Keep your life, fuck your job. Go start somewhere new with far less potential for collateral damage, somewhere that wouldn’t make you fear for your life. Bars in the Undercity were a dime a dozen, and you had glowing references from all of your previous employers.
But.
But something about the way that Silco said the word ‘punished’. Something about the way that he looked at you, like he wanted to devour you. Like he wanted to own you. It made that heat in your belly stir. Made it curl tighter with the unmistakable need of want.
You could be wrong. You were probably wrong. You had nothing to go off of but a vague feeling and hope. But the possibility. The ‘what if’ of the situation. It was drawing you in, drowning you and filling your mind until you didn’t even realize it when you answered him.
“I’ll take my punishment.”
The look of satisfaction that overtook his face was pure sin. He wanted you, he was going to have you. And you were probably going to fucking thank him for it.
He released your chin suddenly and stood up and you almost fell forward, unaware that you had been leaning towards him instinctively. You watched as he tugged on his vest, making sure that any wrinkles were smoothed out in the fabric before he turned and opened the door to his office.
It was a very clear order to leave. So you took it, scrambling to your feet and briskly exiting his office with a face that was burning at the implications of your situation. You walked right past Kev, not even bothering to thank him or say goodbye. You managed to make it all the way home before you collapsed on the floor of your apartment with shaking hands and a shaly mind.
Oh god. You really were fucked.
.
.
.
Check out the rest of my Advent Calendar or even suggest a prompt!
Summary: Viktor is your friend. Just your very good friend. You help him and Jayce with their research and you make sure that he takes care of himself. It’s not out of the ordinary for the two of you to be by yourselves occasionally. So why did it feel different when he asked you to go with him to the yearly Yuletide Street Festival?
Word Count: 3k
Warnings: Fluff, reader is emotionally constipated at first, Viktor is unsure how to process emotions
A/N: My finals are over!! I'm fucking free <3
Always wanted to write a "reader doesn't know how to process feelings and neither does Viktor so they go on a totally normal (TM) excursion together" fic
"You want to go where?"
You'd handled odd requests from Viktor and Jayce before. You'd been their guinea pig multiple times with certain theories, gathered weird materials for them from around the school, and had often stayed up even later than them to help them finish working on a major breakthrough.
But this one specific request wasn't so much as 'odd' as it was 'completely out of the ordinary'.
"The festival," Viktor replied calmly as he sat bent over his notes. He was working on a new theory for Hextech that was evidently top secret - meaning that you were not allowed to assist.
"The festival." You repeatedly dumbly.
He hummed an affirmative and nodded, not once looking up from his notebook where he was writing out his calculations.
Viktor had been a little strange when you had first started working for the duo. He was kind, but he was reserved. Over time he had opened up to you more and more which led to an amicable friendship between the two of you. Yes there were times where the two of you had been left alone together, but it was never for long and never explicitly on purpose.
"Is there a reason you're not asking Jayce?" You replied hesitantly, turning back around to continue your own calculations on the blackboard that had been set up in the lab. "I don't mean any offense by it, I just assumed that we weren't really close like that."
You heard the distinct sound of Viktor setting his pencil down and turned your head slightly. Viktor never stopped working. Oddity number two today it seemed.
"If you do not wish to go, you do not have to," he replied calmly. "Jayce is . . occupied that day. I am picking up some items for research and require someone to help me carry them all."
You watched as he shuffled through loose sheets of paper at his desk and hummed to yourself before turning back to your work. It was plausible, of course it was. Viktor had a hard time carrying multiple things at once due to his leg - something that he abhorred mentioning and making a big deal out of. So of course he would need help if he were picking up multiple items.
But the Yuletide Festival was a week-long event. If Jayce was unable to assist him on Wednesday, then why not change it to a different day? Why not ask someone else?
Maybe you were just overthinking it. Reading too much into it and hoping that it was something that it wasn't. "No it's okay, I'll go with you. Besides, the Yuletide Festival is always a lot of fun."
"Would four be a good time to meet?" he asked. His pencil was moving again.
"Four is perfect."
And that was that.
You had managed to forget the unusual request for the remainder of the week, choosing instead to focus on your ongoing classes and the research on Hextech that you were conducting on your own time.
It was a pet project, honestly. And if you were being completely and totally true to yourself, a way to get closer to Viktor. He intrigued you. He was always so studious and put together, sometimes you wanted to see what he looked like when he wasn't in the lab. If he acted the same, talked the same, looked the same.
You made the mistake of bringing up your thoughts to your roommate, Sky, once.
She had laughed right in your face.
"You've got to be kidding me!" she spoke between giggles, trying to cover her mouth as she lounged on your bed. "You're joking, right?"
You drew your eyebrows together in confusion as you swiveled in your desk chair to face her. "I can assure you I am not. I'm just curious, is all."
"Curious." Disbelief coated her words.
"Curious."
She raised her eyebrows at you in turn and stared at you pointedly.
"Don't look at me like that," you huffed, crossing your arms. "For Janna's sake I'm a scientist Sky. A scholar. I look at things methodically and with precision. With my brain. I don't do 'feelings'. "
A slow, sly grin crept across her face.
You rolled your eyes and leaned back in your seat. "What."
"I didn't say anything about feelings," she replied smugly.
You decided to wipe the smile off of her face by promptly throwing your nearby sweater at her. It caused a bout of laughter from her, but it certainly didn't help your case.
A day passed. Then two.
You were able to shove Sky's accusations away until Viktor walked into one of your lectures.
It was to hand a professor something, a packet of some kind you weren't exactly sure. You'd stopped paying attention the second that Viktor walked in.
He wasn't wearing his vest, that was the first thing that you noticed. That one detail held your attention the entire time. You were openly staring at him, you knew it and yet you couldn't stop yourself.
You watched him the entire time - eyes glued to him and memorizing everything new that you were seeing.
He turned to look at you at one point and your world slowed down. A polite smile and a wave. That's all that he graced you with, and you were beginning to melt.
And then, imperceptibly, he mouthed one word. Wednesday? Viktor was making sure that you were still available, that your answer hadn't changed.
You blinked and then nodded with a soft smile.
It was after he'd left your class that you realized how right Sky had been.
So here you were, Wednesday morning, staring at your open closet with a strong sense of focus. You'd been standing there for approximately 20 minutes before you heard your dorm room door open and close, signaling that Sky had arrived.
"Honey I'm home!," she called out jokingly, and you listened as she slung her bag over to her room before coming to join you in yours. Her footsteps stopped the second she entered the door, and you listened to her elongated pause, your own eyes still trained on your closet.
"I have nothing to wear," you supplied.
"So I see we've reached the 'break down' stage before the date," she hummed.
"I have nothing to wear."
"You have at least six good shirts in there that would be more than fine."
You whirled around and stared at her. "You have cute dresses."
It took her a moment before she realized what you meant. "No," she held up a finger and started to back up towards her room. "No no no. The last time you borrowed a dress it came back with a rip in it."
"Which I swiftly repaired!" you followed her, avoiding all the books strewn about between the two rooms. "Please Sky?"
She stopped and looked at you, one hand on her doorknob and her back pressed firmly against, before sighing. "You really like him, don't you?"
You paused, looking down at your hands nervously before looking back up at her. "I'm beginning to think that I do."
She groaned and leaned her head back against her door before finally admitting defeat. "Fine. Come on, let's make this quick."
'Quick' ended up taking at least two hours of multiple dresses and accessories before the two of you were finally satisfied with the outcome.
A deep red dress that came to about knee height on you, layered with fleece-lined stockings and a coat. You were pretty proud of yourselves if you were being honest. It was a good outfit, and it suited you well.
And then both of you watched snowflakes float past the window with a sense of dread and all of your hard work went down the drain.
"You'll freeze," Sky said.
"I'll freeze," you replied.
It was back to the drawing board.
Before you knew it, it was ten minutes before four and you were frantic, pulling on your boots and trying desperately to find your winter coat in the entire mess.
"You had it last!" You called out to Sky, rummaging through your closet like a mad man.
"Why would I borrow it?" She called back, likely doing the same as you. "The pockets are falling out, and you know how I like to hoard."
"You borrowed it for that trek across campus last week," you yelled back, referencing her midnight blizzard walk when she needed to pass urgent papers to a professor that she assisted in class.
A knock sounded at the door and your heart dropped. "Sky if you don't find that coat right now!" You walked quickly towards the door, grabbing your gloves and a stray scarf that was by the door.
You opened the door right as Sky found the coat and threw it at you. You caught it with one hand and whirled around with a smile to face Viktor waiting on the other side.
"Viktor!" You greeted, pulling on said coat.
"Everything okay?" He asked, a small smile on his face.
"No!" yelled Sky from her room just as you replied with an enthusiastic "Yes!"
He raised his eyebrows at you and you smiled nervously in return.
"Everything is fine. Sky is simply being dramatic." You quickly exited the room and closed the door behind you before Sky was able to retort, pulling on your scarf after you locked the door.
"I see," he hummed before stepping out of your way and gesturing for you to continue down the hall.
You obliged, the two of you walking side by side as you pulled on your gloves, ready to face the elements that the outside offered. It wasn't until you stepped into the elevator with him that you realized Viktor looked really good out of his school uniform. Like. Really good.
He was wearing a thick coat like yours, and had a light blue scarf layered inside of it for warmth. No gloves, but he had boots on as well to help with the icy terrain. It was incredibly different from the tailored outfit you were used to seeing him in and for some reason - although these clothes weren't anywhere near as form fitting as the uniform - the outfit just seemed like it suited him more.
It was more muted, and it allowed him to blend in more. To not stand out as much. You didn't realize that you were staring until you saw that he was staring back.
"Do I have something on my face?" He asked with a small laugh, readjusting his grip on his cane and leaning against it a tad more.
A dark blush immediately took over your features. "No! No, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to stare it's just that," you paused and fought the urge to fidget. "I've never seen you out of the school uniform before. You look . . . different." It appeared as though realizing your small crush on Viktor had rendered you incapable of all logical thoughts. Wonderful.
He nodded his head as though he understood, and let you exit the elevator first when it came to a stop at the bottom floor. "Is it a good different or a bad different?" He asked casually as you held the front door of the school open for him.
"A good different," you replied without much thought. "You seem more comfortable like this."
You missed the small smile he shot at you and the way that his eyes softened at the words, but you didn't miss the way his foot slipped on a particularly icy patch of the road.
Your hands shot out to steady him and ended up wrapped around one of his arms, making sure that he was stable.
"Are you alright?" You asked, the two of you stopped on the sidewalk as snow fell gently around you.
"I'm alright," he replied, a little unsteadily. "But perhaps you should hang onto me just in case," he laughed softly and you found it to be the best sound in the world. "Winter is not the kindest season for me."
You smiled in return and looped one of your arms through his, happy for the excuse to be close to him. "Consider it done."
It wasn't long before the two of you found your way to the Street Festival. Soft Yuletide music played from speakers, soft and inviting, and an involuntary smile found its way onto your face as the stalls began to pop up around the two of you.
You had always loved Yuletide, and had made it a point every year to find your way to the Festival. It was a small treat that you allowed yourself, and frankly a great place to shop for cheap but useful gifts.
You fought the urge to go grab yourself a hot cider at the stand selling them a few feet away and leaned in a little closer to Viktor as you made your way through the crowd. "So where exactly are we picking up these research items?"
"At one of the booths," he replied, tugging on your arm slightly and pulling you back in the direction of the stand selling cider. "But we have some time. You usually come to these things, yes?"
You nodded as he guided you into line. "I do. It's one of my favorite Yuletide traditions."
"I have never been."
You stared at him in shock. "You're kidding. It's one of Piltovers' biggest Yuletide celebrations!"
Viktor at least had the decency to look slightly ashamed. "My work is always the busiest at the end of the year. It does not allow me much time for fun." And then he paused, and you could've sworn that he was hesitating. "Would you show me around?"
And you did. After fighting Viktor for the chance to buy him a cider - and losing terribly - you gleefully dragged him around to all the different booths, telling him stories of years past and greeting certain booth owners that you had come to know. You bought him sweets to share, looked longingly at a new coat with pockets that were decidedly not falling out, and laughed as you watched him shake snow from his hair.
"It's nice to see you like this," you admitted as you both sat down next to one of the open fire pits.
"Half-frozen and covered in snow?" He supplied with a wry grin.
"Relaxed," you replied, watching as a group of children began to make snowballs in front of you. "Normal. Not obsessing over Hextech or new ways to change the world. Don't get me wrong, you seem more yourself when you have a theory to test or science to work out," you laughed and finished off the last of your cider. "But for lack of a better word, your domestic side is refreshing."
It took you a moment to realize that Viktor was staring at you, but when you did you turned to face him, embarrassment quickly coloring your features. "I'm so sorry, did I cross a line?"
His grin was slow and gentle, and you felt butterflies rise up in your gut as it occurred. "Not at all. But I do think that it is time for us to pick up my items."
You tried to shake off the awkwardness of the situation and eagerly nodded, standing up beside him. You hesitated to reach for his arm again, unsure if he would still welcome it until you watched him hold it out to you expectantly with raised eyebrows.
"It is cold," he provided.
"It is," you replied before taking his arm.
You went and picked up his package, a small thing that you tucked under one arm while the other stayed interlocked with his. You stayed that way as he walked you back to the dorms and the two of you chatted about everything. About theories that you were investigating, professors that you detested, strange habits that Jayce had. You’d barely noticed the passage of time at all until you stopped in front of your door, the night at a close.
“Here,” you handed him the package with outstretched hands, doing your best to avoid looking sad at the prospective end of your evening. “I’m glad I was able to help.”
“I am glad you had fun,” he replied with a grin as he took the package from you.
You stood there for a few moments like that, staring at each other and not exactly knowing what it is that you should say.
“Would you, possibly, be open to doing this again?” Viktor asked, his cheeks tinged slightly pink. You assumed it was from the cold.
“Helping you?” you answered with a tilt of your head. “Of course. I’m always happy to help.”
“No, no not helping me. Rather, doing an activity with me.”
You looked at him blankly, not understanding. “An activity?”
“Yes. An activity”
You had a hunch. A stray thought at what Viktor might be poking at. You weren’t exactly sure if you were right, but you hoped you were. “Do you mean, like a date?”
He shuffled nervously and glanced away from you for a moment before nodding his head. “Yes, like a date.I know it is not professional, and I understand if it makes you uncomfortable. I can walk away and we do not have to discuss it again I just . . I thought that you might possibly . . feel the same.”
You wanted to pinch yourself. There was no way that this was real. But it was real, and Viktor looked like he was about to pass out every second that you continued to stare at him and did not answer. “Of course Viktor, I’d love to go on a date with you.”
You can’t remember what happened after that. You know that you had said your goodbyes with promises to plan said date, and that he had waited until you were safely inside your dorm to leave, but if any other words had been exchanged you were unsure as to what they were.
“A date,” you repeated numbly to Sky. “He asked me on a date.”
It was much harder to remember what had happened after Sky’s enthusiastic screaming had commenced.
Summary: You go up to Silco's office after your shift for your well-earned punishment.
Word Count: ~3k
Warnings: Explicit sexual content, Minors DNI, language
A/N: Y'all gave so much love to the first part and it made me genuinely so happy. I hope everyone likes the finale for this fic <3 (This is my first smut fic ever yall be gentle I'm still learning)
I only have one final left to do and it's two separate projects wish me luck
Part One
You were a wreck.
You were an absolute nervous and anxious wreck. All shift you had been making stupid mistakes. Knocking over glasses, making the wrong drinks, misunderstanding customers. It was so bad that Jax tried to send you home early. You nearly stumbled over yourself coming up with an excuse as to why you couldn't. Janna it was so bad.
On your breaks all you did was sit and wait. The waiting was the worst part. The anticipation building, the thoughts swirling. Were you right? Was this what you thought it was? If you were right what would happen? What exactly would happen? You weren't sure if you were more aroused or scared. Probably a good mix of both.
The hours dragged and the customers got more and more annoying as the night went on. By the time the club was closing, you were practically biting everyones' head off. You couldn't help it. Your anxiety was building and it was causing you to act out. That may have been why, when it was time for Jax to leave for the night, he was so suspicious of your want to stay.
"What do you mean yer stayin' longer?" he demanded, placing his hands on his hips.
You sighed and sat down on one of the bar stools, twisting to face him. "Look, I've been a pill all night. Let me at least make up for it by doing some organizing and extra cleaning."
Jax hummed and looked at you, narrowing his eyes in suspicion. "You sure you ain't staying for any other reason?"
Your heart leaped. There was no way that Jax knew. No one knew. Honestly, you didn't even really know. "Positive!" You gave him the best smile that you could muster, which was frankly incredibly shaky, and deflated in relief as he nodded his head.
"Alright alright. Fine. I know better than to ask too many questions. I'll see ya tomorrow then. Get home safe." He grabbed his jacket and with a wave to you, exited the club.
You weren't quite sure what to do. Did you wait? Did you go now? Would tonight's guard even let you up the staircase?
You sat there for ten fucking minutes debating what the best course of action would be until you finally gained the nerve to walk over to the staircase and the man guarding it. He was large, as most of the guards here were, and had a toothpick sticking out of his mouth. Before you could even open your mouth to talk, he grunted and stepped aside for you.
"Took ya long enough. Boss is expectin' ya." He motioned towards the stairs with his head and you swallowed thickly before nodding and walking by him.
Every step felt like it took an hour. Every inch closer felt like you were signing your life away. By the time you got to the door your hands were shaking and your palms were sweaty. You wiped them on your skirt before raising a fist and knocking on the door.
"Come in."
His voice was like a drug, pulling you in and drawing you closer. You opened the door immediately, stepping inside and closing it behind you. You heard his disapproving tsk almost immediately and drew your eyebrows together in confusion. You hadn't even done anything yet, how was he already upset?
You turned around, confusion evident on your face. "Sir? Did I do something wrong?"
He looked up at you from the papers he was reading, a cigar held loftily in his hand as he leaned back in his seat. "Did I tell you that you could close the door?"
You slowly shook your head, trying to understand if this was a game or genuine. "No, sir."
"And did I tell you to come up ten minutes after your shift?"
Ah. There it was. You hung your head slightly and shook it again. "No sir. You told me to come in right after."
He hummed and set down his papers - likely a report of some kind - and took a long drag from his cigar. Your eyes lifted to track the movement, watching as he wrapped his lips around the cigar with apt attention.
"What should I do with you then? Seeing as you blatantly refuse to follow simple directions."
You clasped your hands behind your back and looked up at Silco from underneath your lashes. Anticipation was twisting in your stomach again, causing your mouth to water as your mind filled with filthy thoughts. "I promise I'll be more obedient. I'll be good for you." You thought he might say it then, those two words that had been driving you crazy since that first night under the mistletoe. Good girl. God. If he called you that again he could have you any way he wanted.
He leaned forwards slightly and set his elbows on his desk, regarding you with cool disinterest. He sat like that for a long minute, watching you try not to squirm under his gaze and taking the occasional drag from his cigar. The smoke was filling the room. It wafted towards you, a blend of aromatic spices that made your head feel fuzzy. It smelled like him, you realized.
He hummed, drawing your attention back to him and away from the scents. "Crawl to me."
You hesitated. It was a simple request, but it wasn't what you were expecting. It was humiliating almost, being asked to crawl all the way from his office door to his desk. But it was clearly a test, and you watched as his eyes narrowed when you failed to immediately move.
Slowly, and carefully, you dropped down to your knees. Your face was burning as you began to crawl forwards on your hands and knees towards his desk. It was mortifying to do this at all, least of all in front of Silco. But as you got further from his door and closer to his desk, you realized just how much this was affecting you. Your face was flushed, yes, but you could also feel that familiar tug in your gut as your stomach flipped. You were beginning to realize that you actually kind of liked getting humiliated by Silco.
You continued to crawl around his desk until you reached his lap, and you stopped right in front of him, looking up at him almost like you were waiting for his next direction.
He blinked slowly, a small smile graced his face, sarcastic and cruel. "There we go. Now that wasn't so hard, was it?" He spread his legs further apart and beckoned you closer with two fingers, watching as you took the invitation and rose to your knees between his legs. Still beneath him.
He used his free hand to grip your cheeks and swiped his thumb across your bottom lip. "Open."
Another simple command that you followed without hesitation, opening your mouth and watching as he took a long drag of his cigar and blew the smoke directly into your mouth.
"Good girl."
There it was. You keened into his touch, leaning forwards and placing your hands onto his thighs. One purr of those two simple words and you were putty in his hands. The smoke from the cigar made your mind heady and already had you wanting to give in to your impulses so soon. But you were beginning to figure out how to play his game, and you had a feeling that acting without instruction would be two steps back.
"How predictable," he mused to himself. He slipped his thumb past your still parted lips and pressed it against your tongue. Your mouth stayed pliable for him, and you watched his face from under hooded eyes. Watched his grip tighten against his cigar before he moved to stub it out. Watched as his eyes darted around your face, seeming to memorize it.
"Would you like to put this mouth to good use?" He asked, tilting your chin up slightly.
You nodded eagerly, your own hands beginning to move up his thighs slowly.
He removed his thumb from your tongue, but kept your face in his grasp. "Use your words."
"Please," you whined, leaning forwards and further into his lap. "Let me do something useful for you."
He sighed, setting down the cigar he'd stubbed out and moved his hand to your head, running his hand through your hair before gripping it at the back of your head. "Let's see if you're better at this than you are at following orders."
Your hands acted immediately, unbuttoning his pants with deft hands and reaching in to grab his hardening cock. You pulled it out and your mouth immediately began to water at the sight. He was just so pretty.
His cock was half hard in your hand, and already you were imagining how something of this girth would fit inside you. How it would drag against you and make you scream. You pressed your thumb against the large vein on the underside of him and was spurred on by the subsequent groan that escaped Silco's mouth.
Without any hesitation at all, you leaned forwards and wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, your tongue darting out to tease his slit as your hand went to work on the rest of him. His grip tightened in your hair, and you took his cock deeper, looking up at him to gauge his reaction.
His head was thrown back against his chair, his lips parted as he began to breathe heavily. He was looking back at you through slitted eyes, and you were utterly captivated. His hands tugged on your hair sharply, and it was the only warning that you received as he began to thrust into your mouth.
The pace was harsh and brutal, and you had frankly expected nothing less. It was all that you could do to stay still and pliant as he fucked your mouth, your hands gripping his thighs as your eyes began to tear.
He growled as he saw the tears forming at the corners of your eyes, using your hair to pull your head forwards to meet his thrusts. "This is what your mouth is made for," he spat out. "Not kissing fucking customers for money, not laughing, not talking."
You realized quickly that someone had been watching you during the mistletoe fun. And that it had been Silco - Silco who was now fucking your mouth with abandon. Silco who was punctuating every word with a harsh thrust as you fought against your gag reflex. Silco who was jealous.
It made sense, you supposed. He was the most notorious kingpin in the Undercity. Hell, he owned the Undercity. And everyone in it. He likely did not appreciate other people playing with things that he owned.
He pulled back from your mouth, and you gasped as your throat was freed. The hands that were tangled in your hair pulled you up, and you followed them until you were perched in Silco's lap and his mouth was on yours. Your skirt flared out and let you press your barely clothed pussy directly against his cock.
The kiss was more possessive than romantic - it felt like Silco was laying claim to you and marking you as his territory when his teeth nipped your bottom lip and one of his hands gripped your thighs. And it sent a shiver up your spine to think about. To be claimed by Silco, to be marked as his. It thrilled you more than you were willing to let on.
You started to grind your hips against his cock, seeking some sort of friction to help with the building want between your legs. He allowed it, moving his hands to your hips to help guide your body back and forth over his cock. You broke the kiss with a whine, dropping your head to his shoulder as he worked you back and forth, your panties getting wetter by the second as you felt him so close to where you wanted him.
"So eager for me," he whispered in your ear before his head dipped down and his lips latched onto your neck.
You tried to hold back a moan as he found a particularly sensitive spot on your neck and pushed your hips down on his cock with a little more force. Your toes curled as the angle granted some pressure against your clit, and you repeated the action eagerly.
Before you could blink, Silco had lifted you up and off of his lap. You stood up in front of you and grabbed you by the hips, flipping you over and pushing you down onto his desk. The forgotten paperwork lay forgotten beneath you, sandwiched between your stomach and the desk.
"Spread your legs for me," he murmured, slipping in-between your legs as you greedily did as he asked. You felt him flip your skirt up before he reached between your legs with his hand and slipped his fingers underneath your underwear.
"Fuck," you moaned, your forehead falling forwards against the desk as you felt one of his fingers find your clit.
"Already so wet for me," he mused, slowly circling your clit. The sound of your arousal echoed in the room and you whined at how obscene it sounded.
Shuddering, you felt him slip two of his fingers inside of you and began to slowly push them in and out. A low moan slipped out and you pushed your hips back against his hand, riding his fingers at whatever pace he would allow you to.
"There you go," he cooed, and you were distantly aware that he had stopped moving his hand altogether; watching you as you fucked yourself on his fingers. He allowed you to do this for a long moment, standing there with one hand squeezing your ass as you slowly pushed yourself back onto his fingers and then off again. Then he began to curl his fingers as you pushed back, rubbing them against a small spongey spot inside of you that had you softly moaning out his name and coming back for more even as your knees began to buckle. You felt yourself edging closer and closer towards your climax and began to pick up the pace.
Just as you were about to tell him that you were going to cum, Silco removed his fingers. You whined at the loss, but arched your back as you felt Silco lining his cock up with your entrance. With one smooth push and no warning, he was seated inside of you.
-
Wrecked had taken on a different meaning in the span of one day. There you were, ass in the air and clothes strewn about his office as Silco pistoned into you from behind. His cock was dragging against your walls, rubbing against that one spongey spot inside of you that was making you see stars and babble incoherent words.
His hands were gripping your hips hard enough to leave bruises, and you yearned to see what marks you'd wake up with tomorrow. What reminders you would have of this. How stretched out you'd feel, how the hickies and bite marks would look on you.
Every time he pulled your hips back onto his cock had you gasping and moaning, your thighs shaking from the effort of staying perfectly positioned for him, your arms barely holding yourself up as you cried out face first into his desk.
Silco growled behind you, speeding up as he felt your pussy clenching around him. "So fucking eager, aren't you," he panted, nails digging into your waist. "Eager to please. Eager to follow orders. Eager to be a good fuckin' girl for me." He felt your pussy flutter around his cock and laughed. "Say it."
" M'wanna be a good girl f'r you," you whined, hands gripping the edge of the desk in front of you as you felt your climax approaching. "Wanna be your good girl and do whatever you need and -" you gasped as you felt one of his hands reach down and find your clit in an instant.
Your body shuddered and you arched your back, moaning as his fingers circled your clit in quick and tight circles. You found yourself instinctively pushing back against his cock, meeting his thrusts and simultaneously riding his fingers. That ball in your stomach was tightening, and you were so, so close. "Wanna come for you," you begged in-between thrusts, fighting to keep your voice steady. "Please please please!" You were lost in the feeling of his thick cock ramming into you, making you drunk on it.
He picked up the pace, slamming into you and shifting your hips slightly so that he could hit a deeper angle inside of you. You cried out, feeling yourself get impossibly closer with every thrust.
"Come for me," he demanded. And you obliged.
You felt yourself finally let go and you saw stars. Your back arched off the table and your legs gave out. Silco's hands were the only thing holding you up as he fucked you through your climax and right into his, spilling inside you as your pussy milked him for everything it could.
The two of you laid like that for a moment, panting and spent. Your bodies aching and tired.
And then you had to open your big mouth.
"Have I been sufficiently punished, sir?" You asked wiggling your hips slightly as he still stayed seated inside of you softening.
He roughly slammed his cock into you again, making you gasp at the oversensitivity. "Oh dear girl, we haven't even begun."
.
.
.
Find more holiday fun at my Fanfic Advent Calendar!
Summary: Dean has never been one for Christmas, and neither has Sam. But you, without fail, always make sure to get the boys something meaningful for the Holidays. (An anthology of all the gifts one could give to the Winchester boys, and the gifts they gave in return)
Word Count: 1.7 k
A/N: Nothing but a short feel good platonic fic to start the month!
Welcome to Day 1 of my fanfic advent calendar! I've been rewatching Supernatural lately, and got this idea when watching the Krampus episode in season 3! Enjoy and here's to hoping I make it to Day 31
There's still time to submit prompt and pairing requests here on my anonymous form! Any character, any rating! (yes angst included). This form will be left up until the end of December, or until I fill all of my fanfic spots!
The Holidays were tough for the Winchesters, that much you could see. You'd been traveling on the road with them ever since their father disappeared - brought onto the team by Dean who had worked with you on hunts prior - and the two of them had always gotten touchy as the months had gotten colder.
Any mention of Christmas, or any form of a holiday celebration, would earn a scoff from Sam or a shrug from Dean.
"Oh come on, you don't wanna get in on the cheery holiday spirit?" You'd asked the two of them after a hunt once, leaning forward from the backseat of Baby.
Your mismatched little team had just taken out one of the largest vamp nests to date, and you had found some trashed Christmas decorations scattered around the nest. Sam thought it was odd, Dean thought it was creepy, and you had just wanted to be able to drink eggnog that year without being laughed at.
"What 'holiday spirit' ?" Sam had turned his head back around to look at you with a scoff. "It's August. It's not even winter yet."
"Yes thank you. I'm well aware that it is August Sammy," you replied with a sarcastic grin. "I'm talking about later in the year, when it's actually Christmas."
"That 'holiday spirit' is usually part of the reason that we're so busy those months," Dean spoke up from the driver's seat. " 'Sides, we haven't celebrated anything like that in years." He shrugged.
Sam had spoken up in agreement, and that had been that.
Well. That had been that for about three weeks until you had been passing through a town and had found the stupidest gift for Sam. A pair of dinky joke glasses in a gas station that claimed to gift the wearer with prophetic visions. Absolutely perfect.
You bought it while the boys were across the street getting food.
Another month or so had passed and you were shopping with Sam in a local pharmacy - replenishing the supplies for your first aid kit after a particularly nasty vengeful spirit had thrown Dean through a window. Again. He'd had so many cuts from the glass that he'd used up the last of the bandages.
You'd wandered over to the small candy aisle that they'd had to grab a snack for the poor patient (more like impatient if you were being honest), and you found the small toy car display. And right there, at the very top of the display, was a tiny '67 Chevy Impala. It looked like Baby in every single sense except for one super small and tiny detail. Truly something barely noticeable and definitely not important.
It was neon orange.
You'd bought it with barely restrained glee while Sam was grabbing copious amounts of salt a few aisles over.
When Christmas rolled around that year, you'd decorated the motel room while they were out getting dinner. They walked back in with takeout bags and found a shitty and scrawny tree decorated with cheap lights - something that would put Charlie Browns' tree to shame. Along with that an off brand Christmas show was playing on the small cable TV, and two present looking lumps wrapped in newspaper were sitting on the table.
Safe to say that although it was a badass 30 minute Christmas you had just delivered, they were thoroughly unimpressed.
"The hell is this?" Dean asked, setting the food down.
"Express Christmas!" You replied with a grin, holding out two paper cups. They were a solid 70% rum and 30% eggnog. The perfect ratio, in your opinion.
"I uh, I thought we'd agreed on no Christmas," Sam said as he walked further into the room to throw his jacket on the bed.
"No," you tilted your head and set the cups on the table, "you agreed. I, strategically, said nothing and decided to bide my time and perfect my evil master plan." The boys groaned and Sam made a move to leave the room again.
"You can leave if you want," you spoke up as you got comfortable on the couch. "But if you do, you won't get your present!"
They stopped dead in their tracks, apparently seeing the two lumpy gifts for the first time. "Gifts?" Dean asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Gifts," you replied with a nod. "Now sit down and drink your eggnog. No presents until the movie is over!" Quite honestly, those were your famous last words. The 'Christmas Special' was really just a glorified slop fest of random plots thrown together. To be completely frank, it was painful to sit through. You were tempted to turn off the T.V. about five minutes in, but your will for the boys to suffer through the movie was greater than your own discomfort.
Eventually the movie ended, and Dean turned towards you expectantly with his hands outstretched. "I've drank your terrible drink, I've watched your terrible movie. Now give me the damn present!" He paused and then haltingly added "Please."
With a sigh and a barely concealed grin, you handed the boys their gifts. You chuckled softly as they opened them and finished off your drink.
In mere seconds Sam was holding the glasses and likely contemplating his life choices. Dean laughed at him, only to finally open his gift and fall incredibly silent.
"God I wish I had a camera," you laughed.
"Why is Baby orange," he deadpanned, looking up at you while holding the toy car in the most threatening position that one could hold a toy car.
"Don't worry," Sam clapped him on the back as he stood up. "You could always paint it black with nail polish."
That's when Dean started swinging.
-
The next year, the boys had a vague idea of what to expect. They came back to the motel to find another twiggy Christmas tree, another terrible movie, and more eggnog (extra strong). But this time they came prepared - carrying their own poorly wrapped gifts along with gas station Christmas cookies in the shape of what you thought was supposed to be a tree.
They obediently drank their eggnog, watched the movie, and patiently waited to exchange gifts.
Sam gave Dean black nail polish with a note stating that it was paint for 'tiny Baby'. You had to turn around you were laughing so hard. He gifted you a "mood necklace", which was supposed to change colors depending on your mood. Apparently you were insatiably jealous.
Dean gave the both of you assorted candy bars, and gifted Sam a porno magazine on top of it.
The boys both received silver knives from you. They were made to order from a hunter you had spent months tracking down and had the anti-possession symbol engraved at the hilt. Worn leather was wrapped around the handle, and they each came with custom casings as well that sported multiple wards against evil.
"This . . this is too much," Sam spoke up softly after a moment. "We can't accept these." He looked over at Dean, who was examining the knife with an appreciative look. Dean gave out a low whistle as he sheathed the blade, unable to hide his excitement. Sam elbowed him.
"You can and you will," you replied as you stood up from the couch and stretched. "It was a pain in the ass to get those for y'all, and if I find that you just left them somewhere cause they were 'too much' I'm gonna skin the both of ya." You were mainly joking of course, and they knew that. But they had also watched you fight and kill monsters twice your size, so they weren't too keen to call your bluff just yet.
With more murmured thanks, they tucked the knives away in their bags for the night and settled in to watch yet another terrible movie - at your insistence of course.
As the years continued and you stuck with the boys, the gifts became less of a joke and more practical. New weapons for everyone to replenish a dwindling supply. Jackets as they had gotten old and thin, steel toed boots to protect everyone from the many dangers that your job entailed. Practicality came easy to everyone. It was simple to take note of the things that you all complained about needing, and simpler still to go out and buy them.
There were times, however, where practicality gave way to a more sentimental side. Like the year that the Winchester boys had not gotten you the gun you'd complained about needing, but had instead gifted you a pendant on the end of a delicate silver chain.
The pendant itself was silver as well, and was shaped like the skull of a bird. It was hollow, and when you happened to flip it over to take a closer look, you saw a warding sigil engraved on it. It was useful, yes. But it was also pretty, and it fit you well. And you could tell from the way they were bouncing their legs that Sam and Dean were nervous about giving it to you. They wanted you to like it.
Slowly, you managed to drag your eyes away from the gorgeous piece of jewelry and smile up at them. "I love it," you gushed. "Really. It's amazing guys. I can't tell you how much I appreciate it."
They let out the breaths that they had been holding, obviously relieved that they hadn't screwed up.
"You're sure?" Dean asked, eyes wide and holding out a hand like he might startle you off. "'Cause it's okay if you hate it, really. We can get a better one."
"You can take this necklace back from my cold dead hands," you stated, promptly unclasping it and fastening it around your neck. "And then after that, you can take it from my ghost when I start haunting you."
So maybe you didn't always get along with the boys. Maybe they made fun of you for your Christmas spirit, and you made fun of them when they said stupid things. But they were the only other people that you trusted to have your back during a hunt, and it seems that you were the only one that they'd partake in "stupid Christmas activities" for. Maybe that was what your fucked up little monster hunting family needed. And that was just fine with you.
I'll be updating this as I plan out the rest of my fics! The plan is for them all to be related to the holiday season. Please feel free to request a prompt about winter holidays other than Christmas as well!
All prompts will be posted Mondays/Wednesdays/Fridays at 1pm PST
Holiday Shopping - Dean Winchester x Reader x Sam Winchester - 12/1
Mistletoe Menace - Silco x Reader - 12/5
Ugly Sweater Party - Eddie Munson x Reader - 12/8
Mistletoe Menace P2 - Silco x Reader (smut) - 12/12
Yuletide Festival - Viktor x Reader - 12/15
DIY Yuletide - Young!Silco x Reader - 12/22
Caroling - Bucky Barnes x Reader - 12/24
. . .
Want to suggest a prompt or pairing? Help me fill up my schedule by sending me an ask or filling out this anonymous form! Form will be up through December!
