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escapetodreamworld · 2 months

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Mistle-toeing

Warnings: fluff, a really annoying "i-don't-know-limits" man.

Word count: 4.5k

Disclaimer: this was the first lil thing I wrote about Angie. I do hope you enjoy it <3

Morning came and you groaned as your alarm rang and pulled you out of dreamland. You pulled your arm from under the covers and slapped it off, proceeding to stretch and swing your legs to the side of the bed, putting one foot in front of the other before opening the curtains and getting hit by the morning light.

You rubbed your eyes and blinked repeatedly as they adjusted to the light, getting ready for a much needed shower that’d finally wake you up. It was going to be a long, long, day, you thought, before stepping under the stream of warm water and letting your dreams wash away with it.

As you walked through the streets of Collinsport, you pulled on the brown, thick coat you wore, trying - and failing - to hide your nose from the cold so it wouldn’t turn rudolph red.

Quickly, you entered the building and shuddered at the change of temperature, ruffling your hair to get rid of the snow that had collected in it, and running your hands along your coat to clean it up from the little white particles that had stuck to it. Rubbing your hands together to warm them up a little bit, your eyes scanned the place.The sight was not the usual; and the energy felt different. A good kind of different.

The office was decorated all around, giving the usually white, clean, serious and cold surrounding, a cozier feeling. An elegantly decorated tree sat next to the coffee machine, which now had an addition of delicious ginger cookies on the counter, along with garlands up on the walls and some wreaths hanging in between them, finished with lights adorning the cubicles, everything strategically placed so it was a harmonious look. Funnily enough, everyone seemed just as surprised as you were. In the few months you’d been around, you had never heard of the office celebrating any kind of festivity, but, well… Here you were, with decorations along the office boxes, Christmas music playing in the background (you recognized Sinatra’s Let it Snow) and Nancy, Angie’s secretary (and your confidante) wearing a Santa hat. You guessed this was her making, and you couldn’t fathom how she had convinced Angie Bouchard to let this happen.

As you walked by Nancy, you waved shyly at her, mouthing a “Good morning, Nance” and receiving a big smile in return, followed by a wink - you didn’t get the reason for the last gesture, but you knew she always knew things you didn’t. To be honest… you were quite oblivious.

Absentmindedly walking towards your desk, the decorations distracted you from the pair of cobalt eyes following your every move, like a predator stalking its prey, silently, meticulously, and waiting until you had reached your designed space, still staring and assessing your reaction to the changes.

You dropped your leather bag on the desk unceremoniously and hung your coat on the chair, starting your computer to check for the new mails - but something felt off. A glimpse of red showed up on the corner of your eye, and you rapidly turned your head towards the salient colour. There was a gift sitting on your desk. You stared suspiciously at the neatly wrapped box that sported a ruby red colour, finished with a golden bow. No one in the office was too close to you, so this was quite the surprise. Carefully lifting the box while looking for the tag, you instead found a neat card that had your name elegantly written on it, alongside a small message;

“Y/N,

A little birdie told me you had been staring at these for quite some time.

I do hope you enjoy them thoroughly.

P.S., I see you’ve got good taste. Very nice choices.”

You turned the card around to find any kind of initial or name, but ended up with nothing. Saving the little card safely on your bag, you pulled on the ends of the ribbon and watched it fall lightly on the desk. The tips of your fingers grazed the red wrapping paper, feeling its soft texture and travelled down the softness of it until it met one of the seams; your nails picked on the scotch tape and lifted it, being meticulous enough so it wouldn’t tear.

After you pulled the box out, you kept trying to figure out what it could be. And when it opened, you had to bite your lower lip to keep the grin from taking over your whole face, yet still jumped up and down in your spot excitedly. Inside it there were two of the vinyls you had been looking at the store for the past two weeks, but always decided to not buy them just yet: Herbie Hancock’s Crossings, and Santana’s Caravanserai.

You were a huge music geek, and these were recently out. You looked around hoping to recognize something in someone’s eyes or expression, any tell-tale sign, but only found Nancy’s warm eyes; “Oh!” you exclaimed.

In one of your many conversations with Angie’s secretary, you had gushed about one of these two albums and how much you absolutely loved Christmas, considering it was big back at home. You set the vinyls back on the box and walked towards Nancy, but before you could open your mouth, she spoke without even drifting her eyesight from the computer screen.

“That was not me, dear.” You cocked an eyebrow up and a quizzical look took over your features. “Well - if it wasn’t you, then…” Nancy looked up at you and shrugged innocently. “I have no idea, darling. But they do seem to be paying attention to you.” With that, you decided to drop the topic and go back to work; god knows the secretary would not spill any more information. Jesus, this woman could get caught by the CIA and keep everyone’s secret’s safe, acting like she knew absolutely nada. And even when you tried to avoid your workload, you had a lot to catch up on. Yet, you found yourself looking back at the little card and reading it repeatedly during the day, smiling at the neat handwritten message.

The day passed by fairly quickly, and you were drained. Meetings, mails, getting ready for the end of the year at Angel’s Bay meant absolute mayhem, you learned. The thought of a warm cup of hot chocolate and a good Christmas movie under the warm covers of your bed, in the safety of your little flat made you yearn for the end of the shift, when you could finally relax. With that in mind, you finished typing the document you were working on and stood up from your chair, quickly making your way towards the coffee counter, eyes focused on the warm cups of chocolate that Nancy had just put down, turning towards you to gift you a soft, caring smile. You loved that woman to bits, and she knew you had been having a hard time lately. Christmas was not a day you were used to spending alone, so the thought of it had been taking a toll on you the past week. Of course, Nancy was constantly checking on you and doing small things to cheer you up - asking about your day and if you ate, to which you would roll your eyes playfully and answer while chuckling “Yes, mom”, or leaving candy canes on your desk, and now preparing your favourite thing ever; hot chocolate. She left the tray and kept walking forward towards her desk, which was right next to Angie’s office.

You grabbed the warm, white cup and the sweet smell of chocolate invaded your senses, bringing you the comfort you were looking for. There were small marshmallows on top as well, and you had to contain your excitement to avoid squealing like a little kid from the happiness it brought you.

While you were immersed in your hot chocolate cup, you didn’t realize who was walking towards you, until your personal space seemed to be awfully invaded by a strong cologne that reeked of musk - not the good kind. You don’t know what you despised the most; the smell or the person who came along with it.

Freaking Jack from the sales department. Another of the smug assholes who never took “no” for an answer, because his fragile ego could not take it. He’d been trying to get your attention since the first day you started working at Angel’s Bay, taking advantage of any situation he had to brag about himself - god, he was so full of himself. Today was not the exception. The rest of the girls in the office swooned over him; it was sort of like a Belle and Gastón kinda situation. Terrible, to say the least.

You heard him clear his throat and rolled your eyes before plastering the most fake smile you could manage, turning back to look at him.

“Jack.”

“Y/N, what a coincidence” Not.

“Yeah, well, considering we work on the same floor, I'd call it a very probable event.” You said, matter-of-factly. You knew he had spent the last 5 minutes looking around for you, and you actively avoided him. It’s not that you disliked him… No, no, it was that you disliked him. A lot.

He laughed forcibly at your statement, flashing you what should be considered a perfect grin, but instead came off as straight up weird. “Oh, aren’t you a funny one”

Realizing how close he was, you took a few steps back, and he followed suit, playing aloof while talking about his day, not bothering to ask you about yours, until you were standing in front of the tree, and very much cornered. You hugged the mug to your chest and felt it warm your skin up, looking around nervously, meeting Nancy’s eyes and praying she saw the apprehension in yours and came in to save you from this idiot, who wouldn’t stop talking.

Speaking of the devil, you saw a sharp, mischievous smile form on his lips, and you knew he had come up with some sort of plan to make you even more uncomfortable. He had his eyes glued to the ceiling, and for a moment you thought he had just… rebooted himself. Who knows.

Following Jack’s eyes, your own gaze sat on the pointy green leaves that accompanied the white, round fruit, delicately placed with a red bow over your heads. Of course you had to be standing under the one mistletoe that was up. You mentally facepalmed as soon as your mind registered the little plant, and you regreted every single decision that had taken you to this situation.

“Well, well, well… Seems like we have found ourselves under the mistletoe, my dearest y/n”. His voice lowered in an attempt to sound seductive, and it only made you want to smack the satisfaction off of his face. He grabbed the mug from your hands and left it back on the counter, not giving you a chance to speak before talking once again. “You know what it means. And it’s tradition, lovely y/n.”

You were at a loss for words as you felt his rough hands grab you by the waist and pull you against him, as your hands landed on his chest and you attempted to keep him away.

“Jack - this is not funny. Back off, please.”

The rest of the office had started speaking in whispers and hushed laughs, presencing Jack’s shenanigan as if it were nothing but a simple joke. They watched amused, except for two pairs of eyes. One belonging to Nancy, of course, and the other cobalt blue pair throwing daggers with her eyes, ready to strike.

“As I said, it’s tradition, y/n. Come on, don’t be such a buzzkill. I promise you’ll like it.” He said smugly, while leaning in.

You were so lost in thinking about what to do and how to kick the man and get away from his grubby hands, you didn’t even listen to the faint clicking of heels that had sent the whole office scrambling back to their desks and work, as well as the cold silence that had taken over. You could only hear your own blood pumping in your ears, until the clicking of the heels stopped. And Jack’s face looked like he had seen a ghost.

“Such a pretty face stuck on the body of a useless man. If I were you, I would leave this instant. That is, if you wish to keep your hands.” Her words seethed with venom, eyes shining brightly and sporting a menacing look, alongside an emotion you couldn’t quite put your finger on dancing on her deep blue orbs. Was it hatred? Jealousy? No, it couldn’t be. She stared at his hands grabbing your waist, which were quickly dropped and followed by an amount of excuses Angie was clearly not interested in listening to.

“Listen up, boy. You better gather your things immediately and leave the building within the next 10 minutes, or you’ll suffer a much, much terrible destiny. Your reputation is already ruined as it is.” She spoke without paying mind to the man, now a stuttering mess, who left the moment she had gone silent.

You dreaded the thought of being on his spot… Until you realized you were next. “Shit.” You said quietly, breathing deeply and getting as ready as you could to confront the upcoming interaction.

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A fucking mistletoe. A single piece of dangly fruit that hung over your head, reminding you of the promise it brought, mocking you with its gentle swaying. You swore that if it could talk, it’d laugh at you. One little mistletoe that had gotten you in this mess.

“Fuck - fuck fuck fuck” you thought, as your eyes tried to set on anything but the alluring woman in front of you, her red, full, pouty lips, the defined jawline and high cheekbones, the softness of her porcelain-like skin, the intensity of her cobalt eyes that added to that ethereal, almost unrealistic look - no, nope. Stop. Stop thinking about it.

You didn’t even need to look at her. Instead, your eyes were glued to the floor, which suddenly became extremely interesting. Your gaze set on anything and everything it could. You probably never payed this much attention to the rugs before, but you had decided the best idea was to count every single damn thread in it, if it meant you could avoid the situation. Still, the air seemed to thicken, and you could feel the wicked smile setting on her ruby red lips as she looked at what hung over your heads, completely understanding what it meant. Suddenly, you felt hot under that piercing stare that turned your cheeks bright red and made the shirt you were wearing feel a tad bit too tight.

The way your name left her lips made you feel like your knees had turned to liquid, and you swore they buckled slightly. Her voice was all that was tempting in this world - sultry, velvety tone, honey-dripping. Christ, even the foulest of words would feel like a damn poem coming out of her mouth. You could only imagine what it would be like in a more intimate setting, your name leaving her lips with passion and lust. And god, you wanted to hear that prayer repeatedly. You only thought of worshipping her.

Your thoughts didn’t matter anymore - there was simply no way you’d get more flustered. She repeated your name, two, three times, before grabbing your chin in between her thumb and index finger, softly raising it, forcing you to redirect your eyes back up. You peered up at her through your eyelashes, as she dropped her hand and pushed a strand of hair away from your face, tucking it behind your ear. Your lips parted at the glimpse of her features, the same features that had flooded your dreams countless times. An almost inaudible sight left your mouth, and you wanted to convince yourself she had not noticed; but you knew she did, she always did. Her right eyebrow lifted ever so slightly, and there was the ghost of a pleased smile on her lips, before she spoke again and broke the obvious ogling you had going on.

Your throat felt dry and you cleared your throat to avoid the crack of your voice, because the last thing you needed was to falter in front of the one and only Angie Bouchard.

“I’m beginning to think the floor is much more interesting than listening to me, y/n. I did not know I could be so uninteresting.” She said in a scolding manner, yet there was a tint of playfulness that bathed the statement.

That was the last drop you needed, and like a dam breaking, your words spilled out quickly, without a single thought behind them. You just needed to say something.

“I - I’m sorry, boss. I didn’t know there was a mistletoe and I don’t really know who put it up here but I just wanted a cup of hot chocolate and, well, you know, Jack arrived too and - I am very aware of the rules but it… it wasn’t like that I promise, I - why is there a mistletoe there? I swore it wasn’t when I got here!” your nervousness expressed itself on rambling, speaking without even taking a breath, while Angie watched clearly amused at your nervousness. She tilted her head to the left and her soft blonde hair followed the motion, falling over her shoulder until it set properly. She let out a soft chuckle that echoed in the floor, as everyone watched the exchange with curious eyes. The realization of the scene made you shut your eyes with shame and sigh defeatedly.

You didn’t know if she was about to have your head on a platter and fire you in front of everyone, scold you as if you were a five year old brat, or just leave without saying another word.

And you didn’t know what option was worse. But in between the plethora of scenes and options you ruminated, the upcoming one was definitely not in the books.

“So, tell me, did you like your gift?” She said, redirecting the conversation. You paused and narrowed your eyes at her. “Gift? What gift - wait. That was you?” Your voice had shown more shock than you would’ve liked to, but to be fair, it was pretty damn shocking.

Angie smiled, pleased with herself and your reaction, nodding once. “I had a little help, but someone told me this festivity is quite the big deal for you…” You shook your head and recovered the words you’d been missing. “I loved it. You didn’t have to, boss.”

She rolled her eyes and softened her gaze. “Drop the formalities, darling, you can call me Angie. And I’m glad you liked it. Nancy worked hard on the decorations of the floor.”

Of course the secretary was in all of this. You giggled and hid your face in your hands, shaking your head side to side. “A little birdie, huh? So it was Nancy.”

“Well, she told me about one of the albums, and the hot chocolate. Technically, there were two little birdies. The owner of the shop told me how much time you spent there looking at Santana’s vinyl. I didn’t need to do much, one stare and the information was there, willing and able.” She shrugged unapologetically before speaking up once more. This time, the timing of her words was slower, more thought out, and felt very private. She lowered her voice and inched closer to you, the mistletoe still dancing over your heads. And you were far too aware of it, your eyes travelling up quickly, before locking back with Angie’s.

“As for the Christmas decorations… You do get loud when you speak about something you like, don’t you know that? Whether it's music, festivities, or… people.” The last word made your blood run cold and the smile dissipate from your lips - her voice dropped and seemed to be impossibly attractive, but all you could think about was the fact that Angie found out about your crush. Detail, big fat detail: your crush on her.

Considering how many times you had spoken to Nancy about your admiration for Angie, and how every single one of those times she’d tease you -“Wipe the drool from off your face, y/n” she’d lean in and whisper- either for how you couldn’t stop smiling when speaking about the blonde enchantress, how your eyes lit up when she passed by (and how you’d get flustered every single time) or for every time you looked at her a little too long, you mentally scolded yourself for doing it in front of her office. Not the smartest of moves if you’re trying to keep it a secret.

“I - Oh.” She nodded softly and repeated your words “Yes, oh.”

The silence fell heavy between you, and the energy shifted into a tense, addicting feeling. You were sure you could feel electricity surging between both of you, and you definitely didn’t miss Angie’s eyes looking up at the mistletoe. “Ah, the infamous mistletoe. Shouldn’t we honour the tradition, then?” Her voice seemed impossibly seductive, and you were sure this is how mermaids had to speak - it was far too enticing, far too consuming.

She inched closer and snaked her arm behind your waist, pulling you in, hips snug against each other. You felt the rhythmic rising and falling of her chest, synchronizing your own breathing to hers. The proximity made you extremely nervous, and you kept breathing in her perfume, that intoxicating scent that made your brain go into overdrive and your heart beat faster. Your eyes followed the outline of her lips and marvelled at the way the light and shadow mixed and hit them, making them look even better. The lights of the tree twinkled softly and reflected on her eyes, which transformed them into the most beautiful starry sky; a universe in its own. You had gotten lost in the thought of them countless times, and here you were, staring right at them, feeling completely vulnerable and transparent, like she could read your mind.

Her right hand travelled up to your neck, thumb, index and middle finger pressing softly on each side of it as it looked for your pulse points, not leaving the spot once they had found it. You were inches apart, and as if the teasing was already not enough, she gently pressed the first kiss on the corner of your mouth, moving to the other side, doing the same thing before putting some distance between both. “Is this okay?” She said softly. You could barely nod, absolutely immersed in the situation.

After your confirmation, she brushed your lips against hers before pressing them softly. You wanted to remember every sensation, the plump feeling of your lips against her, the softness of her mouth, the intoxicating scent, her electric touch. You felt her hands grab your waist and press down, her nails digging in your skin with just the right amount of pressure, and you relaxed against the kiss.

Angie lightly slid her tongue across your bottom lip as if asking for permission, which you dutifully granted. You drew a deep, staggered breath at the surge of sensations and the heat you felt coursing your whole body. The kiss grew intense as she sucked on your lips and a shallow hum escaped her, completely pleased at the feeling she evoked on you and how you felt.

She tasted like a sweet, addicting nectar. And right then and there, you knew there was nothing you’d crave more in your life. Nothing that felt more right than this. Her body responded to yours and they moulded perfectly together, your primal needs clawing its way to the surface, and begging, begging you to not let her go. And so, your hands locked behind her slender neck, pulling her impossibly closer. They moved towards her face and caressed her cheek softly.

You swore you could feel your heart push through your chest as Angie’s left hand left your waist, which immediately missed the pressure and warmth of her touch, travelling through your upper body to set roots on top of your fastly beating heart. You felt so alive - and she felt it too, smiling through the kiss at the amount of power she held over your fragile heart, knowing, deeply knowing, you were hers. Her nails raked over your heart as she bit down on your lower lip and growled, “mine”. And there was simply no way you could ever contradict that statement, for the woman had been the owner of your heart since the moment you set eyes on her.

The tidal wave of lust that had washed over both of you slowly started to set once you parted from the kiss to allow air into your burning lungs. Still dazed from the experience, you were sure you’d wake up from the dream at any given second. Angie’s thumb still ran across your lips reassuringly, her pupils blown wide, black against cobalt blue with shimmering lights reflecting from the tree. All danger, adventures and strong desire, a reckless sea, a new odyssey - and with all the trouble it might come, you knew it was absolutely worth it.

Exhaling and taking a step back from you - which made you miss her warmth immediately - the blonde woman intertwined your fingers with hers, squeezing your hand before looking back at the rest of the office, which had seen the exchange and were staring slack-jawed.

“I do not like it when people touch things that belong to me. Good thing I put up that mistletoe and everyone knows who you belong to, now.” She winked at you, and before you could open your mouth to protest, shut you up by pressing one last soft kiss to your lips. Angie hummed in approval while assessing the messy red tint on your mouth; her work made her chest fill with pride, before wiping the red stains from your mouth as best as she could, although she liked the view, the mark she’d left on you. Somehow hers didn’t seem messy at all.

Before you realized, Angie was walking towards your desk, pulling you along with her, ignoring the staring and whispers. Confused, you followed like a lost puppy. Honestly, you’d go anywhere she took to you, without thinking about it.

“Grab your things, darling. We’re not done yet.” She purred.

You were completely entranced, and stumbled over your desk to grab your things, as she stared amused at your clumsiness. Once you had your coat, bag and gift, you looked at the muse in front of you and waited for instructions. She went into her office and gathered her purse and car keys, before saying goodbye to Nancy. You did the same thing, earning a sly smile from the old lady behind the computer.

“Take the rest of the day, Nancy. Go enjoy it with your family.” Angie said, sauntering towards the door with a hand possessively set on your waist. You were sure you’d faint if she kept this going.

“Well, dear. What is it that we’re going to do to enjoy our first Christmas together?” She spoke while turning the car on. You held onto those words like a promise, like an oath, and giggled at the thought of what a little plant could do.

#my sister is back and so are her stories

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