#THE UGLY SWEATERS—!!! ���💕

[rafesteddy]

𝓻𝓪𝓯𝓮𝔂𝓼𝓬𝓾𝓻𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓫𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓼

𝙽𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚢 𝙻𝚒𝚜𝚝 | 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬

𝔻𝕒𝕪 𝕋𝕙𝕚𝕣𝕥𝕖𝕖𝕟: 𝔾𝕠𝕠𝕕 𝔾𝕚𝕣𝕝

𝙷𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚢!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝙶𝙵!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

warnings: dom!rafe, possessive!rafe, softbf!rafe, pet names, swearing, dirty talk, icky “boy talk” at the beginning (not by rafe), protective rafe, boys tease the reader when she's not there, they see a picture of her in lingerie, they start a video of rafe and the reader having sex but rafe takes it from them, ownership kink, kissing, unprotected public p in v, butt plug, praise, cum tasting, wet and messy, squirting, cockwarming

All of my asks got deleted 💕😭 so I'm not sure who requested this, but thank you! After a few drinks at a hockey party, Rafe gets teased about what a good girl you are, but Rafe knows the truth 💋

Reader's POV:

The basement of the hockey house is alive, post-game with a rowdy crowd. Cheap keg beer spills from red SOLO cups, the packed basement wall to wall with a mix of jerseys and ugly sweaters.

Rafe kicks his feet up, relaxing on the oversized couch with the boys, half-watching some hockey game as they shoot the shit. “Damn,” Alex groans, his wicked smirk glowing in the light of his phone. He zooms in on the screen, smiles, and tosses his head back.

“Jesus Christ,” Kemper hums as he looks at the message Alex got, lifting his phone to “snap” a picture of his—just givin’ Alex hell. “Get outta here,” he shoves him away with a laugh.

“She looks better in that jersey than you,” Kemper shoots back.

“No shit,” Alex pulls it up again, adjusting himself a second later. “She stole my jersey yesterday… Sent me that pic as a congratulations, I guess,” he smiles proudly.

“Where’s Max?” Kemper asks, eyes scanning your group before looking over the back of the couch into the crowd.

“Left about five minutes ago with Lexi,” Rafe adds. “He’s gone for the night.”

“Lucky bitch,” Kemper mumbles against the lip of his can before draining his beer.

“You that desperate, Kemp?” Rafe taunts, lifting an eyebrow in his direction, half-hiding his smirk with his drink.

“Fuck you, Cameron,” he clips as he crumples up his can, tossing the empty drink at JJ. “It’s his fuckin’ fault,” he gestures to Maybank, giving him the finger. “He stole her.”

“Stole her my ass. She wanted me. Not my fault either. You're a goalie, man. Maybe you could switch positions and get pussy from time to time-”

“I get pussy!” Kemper cuts JJ off, cracking another beer open.

“Sure you do,” Rafe taunts, just stoking the fire. Attention naturally falls back to him, the boys ramping up to knock him down a peg. He stretches his big arms along the back of the couch, just waiting for the shit-talking to start.

“Yo, Rafe,” Alex calls out, and Rafe snorts out a laugh, rolling his eyes at the predictability.

“Yeah, man. Get on with it,” Rafe chuckles between sips of beer.

“What about your girl? How long has it been… three, four, five months?” Alex slurs.

“Since what, bud?”

“Since what?” He barbs, mocking Rafe like he knows the first thing about you. “Since you got your dick wet. What do you mean, ‘since what’?

The group erupts in laughter, Rafe's lips curling into an amused smile. He doesn't bat an eye— not hurrying to respond, either.

"She's perfect; that's all you need to know," he replies smoothly. He takes off his cap and runs his fingers through his hair before turning it to the back.

"Come on, man," another chimes in, clearly not letting it go. "That’s it… That’s all we’re gettin’? Is it that fuckin’ bad?”

“M’sorry, Rafey,” Kemper chuckles, shooting him a crooked look.

The teasing continues, but Rafe just leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he stares them down, the picture of calm confidence. “You guys have no clue what you’re talkin’ about,” he speaks, his voice calm and smug.

“Sure we don’t,” Kemper laughs. “You tuck her in after the game or what?”

“She’s around here somewhere,” Rafe smiles, glancing at his phone again before setting it on the counter. He smiles to himself, recalling how you sucked his dick on the car ride home from the game; the man fucking you five inches from your life in the shower when you got back.

As much as you loved the side he showed you when no one was watching—soft and sweet. He loved the side of you that no one else got to see as well… filthy and insatiable, your sex drive giving Rafe a run for his money. Rafe didn't need to defend you—or himself. He knows the truth.

“What are you thinkin’ about, Cameron?” JJ asks, catching Rafe smilin—your boyfriend shrugging before he takes a swig of beer.

“None of your fuckin’ business, Maybank,” Rafe laughs.

The conversation drifts back to the topic of conquests, JJ bragging about the girl he snuck on the bus on the last away game, the two fuckin’ in the backseat all the way home.

Rafe’s phone lights up, buzzing on the coffee table. The screen with your name plastered on the front of it shines like a beacon.

"Uh oh,” Kemper pipes, “lover boy's got a text?”

Rafe unlocks the screen and smiles, spreading a little wider. “What the fuck?” He clips as Alex picks the phone out of his hand.

"Let's see what kind of cute little texts your girl sends, huh?” His voice trails away as he looks at the screen, wide-eyed, his mouth hanging open as he catches you in nothing but black lace.

"What?" The others clamor, pushing towards Alex to get a better look.

”C’mon,” Alex whines as JJ plucks the phone off his hands, taking it for himself.

“Goddamn,” Maybank groans as he zooms in.

“Enough, man. What the fuck,” Rafe scoffs as he reaches for it. JJ quickly slides his finger across Rafe’s screen, skimming through the camera roll to find more.

Before Rafe can grab it, JJ lofts it to the next boy, slightly out of Rafe’s reach. Kemper flicks his fingers as well, his eyes doubling when he finds something new.

"Fuckkk, there's a video!" He responds excitedly, one hand gripping the phone, the other extended, fighting Rafe off as he tries to get the device back.

Your sweet moan rips through the phone’s speakers, sending the boys into a frenzy. Rafe's easygoing expression changes in an instant. His smile remains in place, but a razor-sharp edge of possession colors his movements as he stands up, snatching the phone back before they could play any more than a few seconds.

“You like that?” You breathe—your soft, sultry voice echoing faintly through the device before Rafe locks his phone.

The group falls silent, eating their words, struck dumb and speechless as they see a side of you they didn’t imagine existed.

"Like I said," Rafe drawls as he pops another beer, "you've got no idea what you're talkin’ about."

Before the boys can recover, a voice breaks through the haze. “Hey, baby,” you hum. All eyes shifting to you.

The group turns together, watching you step toward the party; your beautiful eyes lock on Rafe’s. He shifts slightly, extending a hand, quickly pulling you onto his lap with a smile. You drape your arm around his neck, Rafe’s arms dressing around your waist, his eyes matching yours, making your stomach flutter.

"Ready to go, baby?" You ask playfully, your intentions for the rest of the night clear in your tone.

“Always,” Rafe smiles as he wets his lip, leaning in for a kiss.

He doesn't hesitate, following you through the crowded hallway, his hand resting on the small of your back to keep you close. The two of you climb the stairs, ducking under tacky Christmas decorations and weaving around people playing beer games at the kitchen table.

Rafe grabs two Coors, popping open one for you and one for him. He sets it down and grabs you by your waist, lifting you onto the counter, moving between your thighs, tilting closer, his eyes never leaving yours.

“You’re perfect, sweetheart. You know that?” He asks, his voice low and sweet.

“So are you, baby.” You lean in, pressing a tender kiss against his lips.

“Would you kill me if I told you they saw that picture you sent me?” He asks.

“Rafey…” You laugh gently against his lips, pecking at them again. “You’re givin’ away all my secrets, baby.”

“M’sorry-”

“ I don’t care,” you smile, gently brushing your lips against his. “Let ‘em know what a slut I am for you…”

“You are, aren’t you, princess?”

“Mhmm,” you hum against his lips before sucking off the bottom, making him groan against your lips.

“… You still wearin’ it, baby?” He drawls.

“You told me to be a good girl and keep it in... What do you think?” You flirt.

“Fuckin’ love you,” he hums.

Rafe wraps his arm around you, lifting you off the counter, pulling you through the packed living room: bodies upon bodies, wall to wall, the air thick with heat and booze—music blares from the speakers, pulsing in your chest.

Rafe crashes down on his favorite chair, the two of you snuggling up in the dark corner. His big hands slide up your thighs immediately, gripping your hips as your lips meet.

“I’m the luckiest man here,” he hums as his hands shift your ass, squeezing tight. One of his hands falls lower before rising again, drifting under your skirt.

Rafe rubs his fingers over your pussy, teasing your entrance over your lace panties, soaking them thoroughly. His rough hands trace up your ass, pressing against the plug, making you whimper against his lips.

“Mmm… Good girl,” he breathes. Rafe draws back enough to meet your gaze, making chills run down your spine. "You got no clue what you do to me,” he hums.

Your fingers scratch into the hair at the nape of his neck. “Maybe you should show me.”

His eyes fall to your lips—his lusty smile spreading, matching your own. Rafe moves closer, burying himself in your neck, kissing higher and higher. His heavy breathing hits your ear, making your pussy throb. “Right here…” Rafe mumbles. “Let me put my cock in, princess.”

“You’re gonna fuck me right here?” You giggle dizzily, making him chuckle as well, pulling you in tighter.

“You gonna let me?”

“You know I will…” You coo.

“Thought so… Fuckin’ though? Maybe that's a little risky, even for us. You're just gonna keep me warm for a while…” He lies.

“That’s it?” You ask teasingly as you slip your hand between the two of you, cupping his stiff bulge, making him moan in your ear.

“What—you want more?” He taunts, giving it right back to you.

“I always want more,” you whisper. You slip out of his lap, turning around, facing the crowd, the lot lost in their own worlds. Rafe grabs your chin and turns your face, claiming your lips as he adjusts, pulling his pants down enough to release his aching cock.

His thick dick slaps against his shirt. You reach behind your back, wrapping your hand around him, stroking slowly. Rafe throws his head back on the chair, letting you work him in your fist, thumb skimming over his fat tip. You look over your shoulder, meeting his gaze as you put it between your plump lips, sucking it clean.

Rafe lifts your skirt slightly, pushing your panties to the side. You rise slightly as Rafe seizes his dick in his big hand, swirling around your soaked hole. You claw at the armrests, listening to Rafe hiss out a breath as you sink on his long cock inch by inch.

“Shit,” you whimper as you release your hands, fully sat, adjusting your skirt, feeling Rafe throb inside you.

He moves closer, wrapping strong his arms around your body, tucking himself in your neck. “Pussy’s just made for me, baby,” he breathes, hot against your neck.

You look out into the crowd, but no one is the wiser. Rafe turns your face again, pushing his lips against yours. Your clench around his cock, and he moans against your lips. His hands shift along your body, brushing over your tits, moving down your stomach, slipping just under your shirt.

He presses down on your stomach, making your thigh draw in. “M’so fuckin’ deep,” he whispers as he pushes again, making you gasp against his lips as he feels his own cock.

Rafe’s other hand moves lower, his two long fingers finding your clit over your clothes. Your eyes scan the crowd; the two of you are still in the clear as Rafe starts spiraling his fingers on your sex.

You know you should stay still, not wanting to give yourselves away, but you can help but circle your hips ever so slightly, grinding your wet cunt on Rafe’s lap with his cock buried so deep.

Rafe grabs your hips, his biceps, and forearms, flexing as he pulls you down as hard as he can, making your nails drive into his skin to keep from crying out as he splits you apart. Your head falls forward from the pressure between your thighs.

Your wetness drools from your tight hole, wetting the place between the two of you, making you both a sticky mess. He lifts your hips slightly, fucking up into your slick center, making your eyes roll back.

Rafe belts his arms around your waist, pulling you into him again as you feel your pleasure about to erupt; pussy tightening around him.

“Me too, baby. Me too,” he pants. “Do that thing you were doin’, huh? Grind f’me. Make a fuckin’ mess,” he mumbles. You roll your hips into him, panting against his lips, not caring who sees at this point, more concerned with your pleasure and his.

Your movements start to get sloppy as you lose control. Rafe grabs your hips, coaxing you to the edge. You gush around his cock, creaming and cumming with him, swallowing each other's moans between deep kisses.

The two of you breathe rapidly against each other's lips, little whimpers falling from yours in sensitivity as you feel his pulsing cock move deep in your guts, his cum and the plug making you feel incredibly full.

Rafe pulls you back on his chest, the two of you exchanging sweet kisses as you come down from your bliss. You giggle against his lips, and he smiles against yours at what the two of you just did. You’re shameless display of affection doing nothing but bringing you closer.

He helps you off his cock, buttoning up his pants before guiding you to stand. Before you can step away, he binds his arm around you, pulling you in, lips finding your neck. A sharp gasp and a throaty moan leave your mouth as you feel a loss.

“Why don’t we say goodnight to the boys and head to bed, yeah?” He asks as he tucks the butt plug in his back pocket. You feel the sensation of his warm cum slipping out of your puffy hole and your ass, dripping down your inner thigh. “I wanna be leakin’ out of you when we do, princess.”

[chez-cinnamon]

( WIP ) This is taking longer than I thought but have some husbands !!! Caine is an ugly Christmas sweater connoisseur 💕

[mrsvante]

The Fire Between Us

pairing: hoseok x reader

genre: mafia au, yandere, exes to lovers, drabble

summary: he would have torn the world apart to find you. and when you left him—believing the worst of him, believing he was a monster—he simply waited. patient. certain.

because you were always his. you always would be.

the world can rage and rot outside these walls, but here, in the home he built for you, nothing will ever come between you again.

not fear. not doubt. not even you.

warnings: yandere hobi, breaking & entering but make it romantic, dubious consent, drugging (the water tastes funny), s m u t, clingy hoseok, feral possessiveness, dark fairytale ending 🙃

word count: 2,624

a message from our sponsors 💁🏽‍♀️: when i saw this photo i went FERAL. i mean look at him, LOOK AT HIM!!! how could i not write something?! especially after the way he’s been edging me this entire tour. been holding onto this story for a bit, but i figured why not? i’ve been (forever will be) on a yandere kick so let’s add hobi to the mix. because in the words of my good sis on tiktok lovelymonroedoll88 ‘looks like a cupcake, WILL put you through a mattress’

that is all. hope you enjoy! ☺️💕

You knew something was wrong the second you stepped inside.

The air was too still, the kind of quiet that clung to the skin, heavy and expectant. Your groceries slipped a little in your hand as you cautiously nudged the door closed with your foot, eyes sweeping over the entryway.

And then you heard it.

The faint hum of the tv from your living room.

Your heart climbed into your throat.

No one should be here.

You eased toward the sound, pulse jackhammering against your ribs, each step a prayer. As you rounded the corner, the sight awaiting you made the breath catch painfully in your lungs.

Hoseok was lounging on your couch like he owned the place. One arm thrown lazily across the backrest, one leg draped over the other, a casual smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

A movie—something old, black and white—flickered across the tv screen, throwing soft light across his features. He twirled a silver lighter between his fingers, flipping it open and closed with a quiet click… click… click.

Like a metronome to your growing panic.

“You left the window unlocked,” he said lightly, as if commenting on the weather. His voice, oh, his voice, still made your stomach twist, even now.

“Wh-what are you doing here?” you breathed, hugging the grocery bag to your chest like a shield.

“I missed you.”

Simple. Honest. Chilling.

You swallowed hard, your mouth suddenly dry. “You can’t just—just break into my place, Hoseok. That’s not—”

“Legal?” he supplied, amusement glittering in his eyes. Another flick of the lighter. Click.

You stared at him. At the perfectly tailored black slacks, the soft cashmere sweater he wore pushed up at the elbows, the watch glinting on his wrist. His hair was pushed back neatly, exposing the strong line of his jaw, the curve of his mouth.

The mouth you used to kiss, the mouth you used to trust.

“I’m not here to scare you,” he said, voice softer now, coaxing. “I’m here to explain.”

You shook your head. “There’s nothing to explain.”

He leaned forward, planting his elbows on his knees, lighter dancing between his hands like an afterthought. The sleeves of his sweater bunched, revealing strong forearms, a slim scar you’d once kissed without thinking.

“You left me because you thought…” His voice trailed off, and for a brief second, something dark flickered in his gaze. “You thought I was a monster.”

You flinched.

The truth hung between you, raw and ugly.

Hoseok smiled, slow and patient, like a man dealing with a frightened animal. “You think I just kill whoever I want, whenever I want.” His thumb flicked the lighter open—flame—then snapped it shut. Gone. “But you’re wrong.”

You tried to find your anger, your sense of rightness, but it was buried under layers of guilt, confusion, and a longing that hadn’t been fully snuffed out.

“I only eliminate people who would hurt others,” Hoseok said, tone gentle, persuasive. “Human traffickers. Child predators. Abusers. Men who’d rather see the world burn than lift a finger to save it.”

You stared at him, trying to process the weight of his words.

“I do what the system can’t,” he continued, voice steady. Click. “I’m not the villain, sweetheart. I’m the man standing between you and the real monsters.”

He stood then, slow and deliberate, and the air shifted. Became heavier. Charged.

You stumbled back instinctively until your back hit the wall. Hoseok stopped a foot away, close enough that you could smell his cologne—amber, smoke, something clean and devastatingly enticing.

“You still love me,” he said, not a question. A simple statement of fact.

Your fingers curled tighter around the grocery bag. “Hoseok—”

“Shh.” His thumb brushed your lower lip, featherlight, stealing your breath. “You don’t have to say anything. I know you do.”

The lighter danced again in his hand, a steady beat behind his words.

“I understand your fear,” he whispered, leaning in until his forehead nearly touched yours. “But you need to understand something too.”

His free hand slid along your hip, warm and firm.

“I would burn the world down for you. And I would rebuild it from the ashes. Just to see you smile.”

Your defenses, fragile as they were, crumbled under the force of his devotion.

And then… he kissed you.

It wasn’t frantic. It wasn’t violent. It was slow.

A kiss that dragged every breath of resistance from your lungs, that mapped every remembered inch of your soul. His mouth slanted over yours with aching familiarity, the tip of his tongue coaxing you to open, to surrender.

When you gasped against him, he seized the opportunity, deepening the kiss, swallowing your soft, helpless sound.

The grocery bag thudded to the floor, forgotten.

Hoseok groaned low in his throat, pressing you harder against the wall, the lighter clattering onto the coffee table behind him.

“You’re mine,” he whispered into your mouth. “You’ve always been mine.”

And you—

You didn’t say no.

You couldn’t.

Your fingers fisted into his sweater, pulling him closer, erasing the distance that had carved itself between you. Hoseok gathered you into his arms with a ferocity that belied his calm exterior, lifting you slightly, grinding his hips against yours.

When he finally broke the kiss, you were dizzy, trembling, your mind a blur.

“You can lie to yourself,” he murmured, trailing his nose along your jaw, “but your body remembers.”

You whimpered as he found that tender spot just beneath your ear, nipping it gently.

“You miss me,” he said, voice a velvet promise. “You miss this.”

And God help you, you did.

You missed the way he worshiped you with his hands, the way his voice dipped when he whispered your name in the dark, the way he made you feel like you were the only thing worth waking up for.

You missed him.

And Hoseok, ever the predator, sensed it.

He smiled against your throat, victorious. “Let me come home.”

You barely had time to gasp before his mouth crashed onto yours again, fiercer now, hungrier, the careful patience he’d shown before cracking at the seams.

Your back hit the wall with a soft thud as he pressed against you, every hard line of him fitting into every soft curve of you. His hands were everywhere—roaming your hips, your waist, sliding beneath your shirt to find bare skin like a man starved.

“Hoseok,” you breathed, but your protest dissolved into a moan when he slid a thigh between your legs, forcing them apart, grinding you helplessly against him.

“You have no idea,” he muttered against your lips, “how long I’ve needed this. Needed you.”

The kiss turned messy, all teeth and tongues, a desperate claiming. Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging hard, and he growled—a low, raw sound that rumbled against your chest.

When he finally tore himself away from your mouth, his eyes were wild, pupils blown wide, chest heaving. He looked almost pained trying to rein himself back in.

“God, I’m trying to be gentle,” he panted, forehead pressing into yours. His hand fisted in the hem of your shirt, knuckles whitening. “I’m trying, baby.”

But when you whimpered and rocked against his thigh, any thread of restraint snapped.

He dragged you toward the couch with ruthless efficiency, yanking your shirt over your head in one smooth motion, tossing it somewhere behind him. His sweater followed, leaving him bare chested, ink glowing in the light of the tv, the golden skin of his torso flushed with heat.

You barely had time to catch your breath before he shoved you down onto the cushions and dropped to his knees between your legs.

“Need to taste you,” he rasped, voice ragged.

Fumbling, desperate hands unfastened your jeans, shoved them down your hips with little ceremony. He buried his face against the seam of your panties, inhaling deeply, groaning low like the scent of you was a drug.

And then without any warning he pushed the damp fabric aside and slid two fingers inside you, slow and deep.

You cried out, hips bucking, fingers scrambling for purchase on the couch cushions.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he murmured, kissing along your inner thigh, his voice trembling with something dangerously close to reverence.

His fingers pumped into you with slow, deliberate strokes, crooking just right to make your vision blur. You could barely think, barely breathe, gasping his name between broken sobs of pleasure.

When he felt you clench around him, his grin turned feral.

“You’re close already,” he said smugly. “My good girl.”

You should have been embarrassed, should have pushed him away, but your body betrayed you—arching, begging for more.

When your orgasm hit, it tore through you like a tidal wave. Hoseok watched you fall apart with predatory satisfaction, licking his lips like he wanted to devour you whole.

Before you could recover, he was lifting you effortlessly into his arms.

“Not done,” he murmured, voice hoarse with need.

He carried you toward the bedroom, but only made it halfway down the hall before he pinned you against the wall again, dropping to his knees without a word.

“Hoseok,” you gasped, but he was already hooking your legs over his shoulders, burying his face in your soaked cunt.

He devoured you like a dying man, tongue relentless, hands gripping your hips so hard you knew there would be bruises tomorrow—and you wanted them. You wanted proof that this wasn’t a dream, that you hadn’t conjured him from your loneliness and longing.

You fisted your hands in his hair, hips rolling helplessly against his mouth, chasing the pleasure he gave so freely, so viciously.

“Missed this,” he muttered against your slick heat. “Missed you.”

It was only when you came again, trembling and sobbing his name like a prayer, that he rose to his feet, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, eyes black with hunger.

He kicked open your bedroom door, tossed you onto the bed like you weighed nothing.

And then he was on you—stripping away the last of your clothes, shedding his own, caging your body beneath his. The weight of his cock was heavy against your thigh, steel covered silk, skin burning hot with hunger.

When he thrust into you in one desperate, punishing stroke, you both gasped. Two halves of the same broken soul.

“Perfect,” Hoseok growled, pressing his forehead to yours. “You’re fucking perfect.”

He set a brutal rhythm, hips snapping against yours, every thrust a brand, a mark. He wasn’t just fucking you, he was carving himself into you, body and soul.

You clung to him, nails raking down his back, legs locked around his waist.

His hand fisted in your hair, tilting your head back so he could lick into your mouth, swallowing your cries, your surrender. He whispered things against your skin—desperate promises, possessive oaths, dark confessions he couldn’t say in the daylight.

“Never again,” he panted, driving into you harder, deeper. “Never letting you go.”

Your body splintered around him, coming undone again, and this time he followed—biting down on your shoulder with a growl, pouring himself into you with a shudder that shook his entire frame.

For a long moment, the only sound was your ragged breathing, your racing hearts.

He didn’t pull away. He didn’t move at all—just buried his face in your neck, arms locking you against him like he feared you’d disappear if he loosened his grip.

When he finally spoke, his voice was so soft you almost missed it.

“I can live with you hating me,” he whispered. “But I can’t live without you.”

You turned your head, pressing your lips to his damp hair. And even though you knew you should run, should fight—

You held him tighter instead.

~~~~

You hung somewhere between exhaustion and bliss, your body still trembling faintly from the force of what Hoseok had wrung out of you.

He moved carefully now.

You barely registered the soft cloth he used to clean you, the warm water wiping away the evidence of your surrender. His touch was so gentle, so meticulous, as if each stroke of the cloth was a silent apology for the way he had shattered you.

“There we go, baby,” he murmured, voice low and thick with something heavier than satisfaction. Something closer to devotion.

He helped you into an oversized shirt, his, you realized hazily, swallowing you in warmth and his scent and eased you back against the pillows.

A glass of water appeared at your lips. His hand cradled the back of your head as you sipped, too pliant, too trusting to notice the faint metallic aftertaste hidden beneath the coolness.

“Good girl,” Hoseok whispered, kissing your forehead. “Rest now.”

You tried to ask something, what time it was, why he looked so tense, but the words tangled in your throat. Sleep weighed down your limbs, slow and syrupy, pulling you under before you could resist.

You barely felt it when he lifted you into his arms.

-

The hum of the truck engine was a lullaby you couldn’t hear.

Hoseok cradled you against his chest in the back seat of the blacked out vehicle, one arm wrapped protectively around your waist, the other stroking gentle patterns along your thigh.

Outside the tinted windows, the city faded into darkness, distant and irrelevant.

His lighter sat abandoned in his pocket now. He didn’t need it. All his restless energy was focused solely on you.

He pressed a kiss to your temple, closing his eyes.

You’re safe. He thought, words echoing silently in the dark. You’re home.

Hours later, the jet vibrated softly beneath his feet as it sliced through the night sky. Hoseok hadn’t let you go once.

Settled in the buttery leather of the jet’s wide seat, he held you across his lap like you were something fragile, irreplaceable. One hand rested on your hip, the other threaded through your hair, brushing it back from your sleeping face with infinite tenderness.

He kissed the crown of your head, breathing you in.

“My good girl,” he murmured into your hair. “Taking us home.”

Outside the windows, only darkness and distant stars bore witness.

-

When you finally woke, it was to a warm breeze and the scent of jasmine.

Disoriented, you sat up slowly, the unfamiliar sheets tangling around your legs. Your body still ached, delicious and sore, but your mind was heavy, foggy. Blinking against the morning sun, you stumbled to your feet, feet padding silently across the room.

The sound of birdsong lured you to the balcony.

You clutched the bannister, staring out at the scene below.

The lush garden was unmistakable—

The sprawling emerald lawns, the heavy trees drooping with ripe fruit, the koi pond gleaming like polished coins.

Hoseok’s estate.

Panic fluttered briefly in your chest—but it was muted, blunted by something else.

Something softer.

Something that felt suspiciously like peace.

Before you could spiral, warm arms wrapped around you from behind, strong and certain. Hoseok buried his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply like he could breathe you in.

“Shh,” he whispered against your skin. “All is right again. Things are exactly as they should be.”

You trembled in his arms, some part of you screaming that this wasn’t how it was supposed to happen—that you should fight, that you should run.

But another, quieter part.

The part that had never truly let him go, sank into his embrace like you were coming home after a long, bitter winter.

“I missed you,” he said, his voice thick with emotion.

You placed your hand over his, threading your fingers together.

And though your mind spun with questions and doubts, your heart knew only one truth:

You had never really left.

And now, you never would.

masterlist

[b1eedthefreak]

hi beautiful, i always loved seeing your hispanic reader x daryl fics they warm my heart sm, recently i had a bad episode including xenophobia bc of my background and i felt so bad about it, if you have time you think you could write something with daryl comforting reader after someone told her to go back where she came from or just said hurtful things to her💔 hope this doesnt sound too odd but i love your blog and wish you the best💕

⋆ 𐙚 ̊. Belong Here

⌇daryl dixon x hispanic!reader

summary⌇after settling in alexandria, you face racism from your neighbors and daryl takes action

warnings⌇racism towards hispanic!reader, violence

word count⌇1.8k

a/n⌇anon this is NOT odd at all. what’s odd is the racism you experience!!!!! babe you are worth more than words can ever describe and are so loved! i’m bringing back hispanic!reader for this anon i love you. also, anyone reading this please educate yourself on what the u.s government is doing; deporting and ripping families apart. no one is illegal on stolen land!

The house was small, creaky, with faded wallpaper and a porch that needed fixing—but it was yours. Yours and Daryl’s. You’d picked it together, rooms quiet with promise, a space to breathe after years of blood and chaos. He’d let you pick the curtains, the faded rug, even the chipped blue mugs for your mismatched kitchen. You’d laughed when he called them ugly, but you saw the way he used his every morning anyway.

You were finally starting to feel safe.

That is, until today.

You’d been the one to answer the door, hair pulled back in a loose braid, sweater slipping off one shoulder. You weren’t expecting anyone, but Alexandria always had people passing through, smiling too wide, talking too fast. The neighbors—two of them stood there holding a basket of homemade bread wrapped in a gingham cloth.

They blinked at you, faces stiff.

“Oh,” one said. “We thought… this was Mr. Dixon’s house.”

You smiled politely. “It is! Vivo con Daryl.”

The moment you spoke, their expressions shifted—like you’d said something wrong.

“Can you… speak normally?” the other one asked, scrunching her nose. “English?”

You blinked, confused, trying to laugh it off. “I am speaking English…”

They exchanged glances, clearly unimpressed.

“Such a shame,” the first one muttered. “That fine gentleman’s with you. Can’t even speak English or understand us. Should’ve stayed wherever Mexico country you came from.”

Your breath caught. You stared at them, the words hitting you like a slap, cold and sharp. Mexico country. They didn’t even ask. Just assumed.

And you froze.

Your smile faded, hands tightening around the door frame. You didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know how to process the sudden flood of heat in your cheeks, the sting in your chest. You were still standing there, stunned and silent, when Daryl’s voice cut through behind you.

“What’s goin’ on?”

He stepped up beside you, one hand brushing the small of your back protectively. You barely registered his presence—you were still stuck in that awful moment, eyes starting to blur with tears.

The neighbors shifted uncomfortably, eyes flicking to him with fake smiles.

“Oh, we were just leaving,” one of them said, handing him the bread. “God bless you…”

It sounded like a curse.

They moved past him quickly and disappeared down the sidewalk.

Daryl turned back to you, and stopped cold.

You were still standing in the doorway, your shoulders shaking, tears slipping down your cheeks as you stared at the ground. You couldn’t meet his eyes. Couldn’t even speak. Your throat felt tight, your heart racing with something ugly.

“Hey, hey—” he said softly, stepping closer, hands cupping your arms. “What happened? You okay? Did they—did they hurt you?”

You shook your head, lip trembling.

“N-no… they just… they said…”

He leaned in, brows furrowed, eyes scanning your face like he was trying to find what was broken.

“They said I… I don’t speak English. That I should go back to where I came from. That I don’t belong here.”

The words spilled out like they weren’t even yours. Like they were echoing from somewhere else.

And still, you couldn’t look at him.

“Darlin’,” he whispered, voice thick, thumb brushing your cheek to wipe away a tear. “Look at me.”

You didn’t want to. But you did.

And he looked furious.

Not at you. Never at you. But at the world. At the people who thought they could say that to you. That they could make you feel small. Wrong. Unwelcome.

“You do speak English,” he said, voice low and tight. “Better than half the folks in this town. And you belong here. With me. This house? This life? Ain’t none of it right without you in it.”

You finally let out a shaky breath and he pulled you into his arms, holding you like you were something precious. Like you were breakable. Like he would never, ever let them get to you again.

“I got you,” he murmured into your hair. “Ain’t nothin’ they say that changes who you are.”

You buried your face in his chest.

He didn’t let go.

It was dark by the time Daryl slipped out of the house, shoulders tense, jaw clenched.

He wasn’t one for drama. Wasn’t one to start shit. But tonight? Tonight, it wasn’t about pride. It was about you.

He was heading for Rick’s when he saw them—those same neighbors, walking hand in hand under the streetlights like they hadn’t shattered someone’s heart just hours ago.

They saw him too.

“Oh! Hello, darling!” one of them chirped.

Daryl stopped.

Didn’t smile. Didn’t greet them.

“Heard what y’said to my wife,” he said flatly.

The air shifted.

They paused, still smiling but something behind their eyes changed.

“We were just being honest,” the woman said. “People like her don’t belong in a place like this.”

That was it.

The punch landed fast, sharp, and brutal right to the man’s jaw. He stumbled back, falling hard onto the grass with a grunt. Daryl stood over him, fists clenched, breathing hard.

“Say it again,” he growled. “Say it again.”

Rick’s voice cut through the air.

“Daryl!”

Michonne was right behind him. Carl too. They ran over, eyes wide as they saw the scene—Daryl breathing like a wild animal, neighbor bleeding from the lip, the other screaming.

“They said she don’t belong here,” Daryl snapped, voice shaking. “Said she can’t speak English, said she should go back where she came from.”

Rick looked at the neighbors. Saw the guilt on their faces. Didn’t need to hear another word.

“You’re lucky that’s all he did,” Michonne said coldly, stepping forward.

The neighbors stammered something about misunderstanding, about not meaning it. But no one believed them.

Rick turned to Daryl.

“Go home. I’ll handle this.”

Daryl didn’t hesitate.

You were sitting on the porch when he came back, arms wrapped around your knees, sweater bunched at your wrists. You looked up at the sound of boots on the steps.

“Hey,” you whispered.

“Hey,” he said, crouching down in front of you. “Y’alright?”

You nodded. “Did you talk to Rick?”

He hesitated. Then smiled faintly.

“Talked with my fists first.”

Your eyes widened.

“Daryl—”

“They deserved worse,” he said. “No one talks ‘bout you like that. Not while I’m breathin’.”

You blinked back tears again—but this time, they were different. Softer. Safer.

He reached up, cupped your cheek again. Don’t let ‘em make you doubt it. They don’t deserve to even breathe near ya anyway.”

You leaned into his hand.

“I love you,” you whispered.

His face softened.

“I love you too.”

And in that moment, on a quiet porch in a world still learning how to heal, you knew—you didn’t need to belong to them. You belonged with him.

And that was more than enough.

[strangergraphics]

ugly christmas sweater themed dividers:

please like and credit if you use, reblogs are appreciated! thank you! 💕

[thereoncewasagirlnamedjane]

SHENANIGANS.

PAIRING — steve rogers x f!reader

CONTENTS — drabble; established relationship; a light dusting of spice; fluff?; and merry christmas eve my darlings! 💕

SUMMARY — you follow steve into a dark closet 😏

WORD COUNT — 476

✩ masterlist ✩ library blog

It takes Steve a few seconds for his mind to catch up to what’s happening. 

He went to the linen closet to grab some paper towels when he spilled champagne all over himself like an idiot, only to find that the kitchen was all out. He’d just grabbed a new roll when you came striding up behind him, shoving him into the closet and closing the door behind you. 

Then your hands were on him, roaming enthusiastically over the ugly, scratchy wool sweater stretched over his torso. He’d bought it earlier this week at a thrift store, endlessly amused when it lit up obnoxiously with the flick of a switch. 

“Honey—” he startles, especially when your hands fist into his sweater so you can spin around and pin him against the door. He allows himself to be manhandled, despite grunting softly upon impact out of sheer surprise. 

You make a small, pleased sound at the back of your throat, before leaning up on your toes to kiss him. 

“Sweetheart—” he mumbles against your eager lips, already a little breathless when you giggle at knocking over some nearby rolls of wrapping paper and a box containing a stray bundle of shiny tinsel in your haste to get him alone. 

“Yes, Steve?” You purr, your hands on his chest pushing him firmly against the door, grinning wildly when his eyes go wide and his cheeks flush. 

“But the party—”

Music is still audible through the door, turned up so loud he can feel the bass thumping against his back. Surely, the other guests and the hosts have noticed both your absences by now. 

“But you just look so…” you trail off with a sigh, scanning him up and down. Steve’s never been one to care about his looks, but—oh, he’s seen that look before; your eyes sparkling with barely contained mischief, your bottom lip tucked between your teeth, and one of your legs slotting between his. 

He almost chokes on nothing. His cheeks burn once again, but of course he likes it very much when you get all handsy. 

Steve quickly grasps the hem of his sweater, ready to whip it across the tiny closet when you stop him with a gentle hand. “No, leave it on.” 

“Really?” He asks with an incredulous smile, looking down at the red and green abomination of fabric. It was perfect for the holiday party the Starks are currently throwing in the other room, but this is interesting. “The sweater’s doing it for you?” 

The only answer you give is a salacious grin of your own and, “shut the hell up and touch me already.” 

Steve only hesitates for a split second before grinning and turning on his light up sweater, his large hands palming the curve of your hips and then sliding even further. 

Yeah, you’re right. 

Screw the party.

fin.

© 2025 by thereoncewasagirlnamedjane. do not repost, translate, or copy to third party sites. no part of this work may be fed into any AI software or websites. minors are asked not to interact with my blog; you are responsible for your own media consumption. blank/ageless blogs will be blocked.

[goldfades]

okay idk if you’re still writing for the manager series but if you are i think it would be really cute to write one about a team christmas party or christmas diner!! tysm ily bye bye

(there's a fic coming soon dont worry)

oh my god, a team christmas party would be absolutely chaotic and adorable at the same time. let me set the scene:

manager’s office has turned into the north pole in the week leading up to the party because she’s in charge of organizing everything. she’s got lists on lists—decorations, secret santa assignments, food orders—and every five minutes someone’s popping in like, “hey, can we add gingerbread houses to the itinerary?” (it’s kk, always kk).

on the day of the party, the locker room is decked out in twinkling lights, fake snow, and stockings with each player’s name on them (manager’s handiwork, obviously). caroline and azzi are her right-hand women, helping set everything up while paige “supervises” with a santa hat tilted sideways on her head.

the secret santa exchange is pure chaos. paige gifts manager a hoodie with “world’s best coach manager” on it, and she’s smirking like, “it’s true, isn’t it?” manager rolls her eyes but is secretly touched. kk’s gift to azzi is a handmade ornament that says “sniper,” and jana somehow ends up with a stuffed animal that sarah insists looks just like her.

dinner is chef’s kiss. manager made a bunch of the food herself because she doesn’t trust the team not to set the kitchen on fire. everyone’s whining like, “manager, can you just cook for us forever?” paige is already scheming to take leftovers back to her dorm.

after dinner, it’s game time—charades, pictionary, and the most competitive ugly sweater contest of all time. kk shows up in a sweater that literally lights up, and paige’s sweater has a picture of her face photoshopped onto santa’s body. manager tries to stay impartial as a judge but ultimately gives the win to azzi, whose sweater is simple yet iconic. (she bribed manager with a cup of hot cocoa beforehand, obviously).

the night ends with everyone gathered around the tv watching Home Alone while sipping hot chocolate. paige keeps trying to steal marshmallows from manager’s cup, and manager’s like, “i swear to god, paige, if you don’t stop—” but she’s too cozy and happy to actually care.

the girls are sprawled out on couches, blankets piled everywhere, and manager can’t help but smile because even though this job drives her insane sometimes, these moments make it all worth it 💕

[stardewfanficwriters]

FLUFF REC LIST 2.0

Yes we see it too, everything's just... *gestures wildly in all directions*, so we've pulled together more of our lighter, fluffier recommendations for your perusal.

If YOU want recommendations around any theme/character/whatever, please, drop us an ask! The guild has avid readers as well as writers, chances are we can find something to your taste!

Hope you enjoy!

Shane's Ugly Sweater by @annetastic1981a (Jas & Shane) (Gen)

Not Sleepy (Day 2: Hot Chocolate) by @shortysus4 (June/Male Farmer)

Between Her and the Creatures of the Earth by @nebraskashouse (Harvey/Female Farmer) (M)

Spring and Swing by @glazedsnail (Jas & Shane) (Gen)

Blow Me a Kiss, Baby! by @lily-alphonse (Alex/Haley) (T)

Ask Me Anything by @kellycataclysm (Harvey/Female Farmer) (E)

Wouldn't Change a Thing by @sunflower1me (Maru/Penny) (Gen)

Mine: Solar Eclipse by spiritedKnight (Sebastian/Female Farmer) (Gen)

Obedience Training by @caelwynn (Sterling/Female Farmer) (T)

Cedar Smoke by @velvetlilith777 (Sebastian/Farmer) (T)

That Infuriating Doctor by @purpleandgreen13 (Harvey/Farmer)

A Frog and Fireflies by @egggargler (Sam/Sebastian) (T)

If you enjoyed any of these, please leave a comment for our amazing writers 💕 they love them!

Banner made by the fabulous @lily-alphonse

[twominutxold]

day 22 of rwrxmas! ugly sweaters💕

[pellucid-constellations]

Hey!!! I just finished reading song of Achilles and I have been crying for the better part of the last hour while reading, hence in serious need of some Bucky comfort. So how about college or lumberjack Bucky (cuz they’re my favorites) who don’t really understand the whole fuzz over books but still holding his girl while she sobs her chest out out about a book (you can change the book of you want), hot tears down her face, ugly crying yknow?

It’s okay if you don’t want to :)) Have a great day 💕💕💕

Pairing: lumberjack!bucky x reader (can be read separately from undisclosed, but also a little reference to it)

A/n: Okay sooo this was so sweet and I had to write a drabble for it!! All this angst I've been writing needs some comfort! :)

~~~

He hears the crying first. 

It’s a terrible sound that constricts his chest each time it meets his ears. Bucky would like to consider himself partially responsible for your tears becoming a rare occurrence, so when he hears them, he experiences an array of emotions—fear, panic, a twisted sort of heartbreak. 

At the front door of his home, Bucky strains his ears to confirm what he’s already dreading. Because maybe you weren’t crying. Maybe you were sick? That wasn’t much better, but at least it was a more concrete issue. 

When he hears the tissue box and the loud meow from Alpine—the closest thing to concern he’d ever heard from a cat—Bucky doesn’t even take his coat off before he’s barreling into your bedroom. 

You startle, puffy eyes darting up to him as he takes up space in the small room. 

And he’s devastated. You hadn’t looked like that in a long time, all tear-stained cheeks and frazzled hair. Bucky considers the multitude of reasons you could be so upset, but then decides it doesn't matter. Not when you’re looking at him like that. 

“Oh, honey,” he coos. His socks make soft sounds on the carpet as he walks over to you, but the action only sends more tears down your face. Bucky could collapse. “Sweetheart, what happened?” 

You don’t say much at first, opting to bury your face into his chest the second he makes contact with the bed. It’s too warm in here for the amount of clothes he’s wearing. Bucky doesn’t really care. You keep crying—Bucky keeps running his fingers through your hair. 

Each sob that leaves your lips sounds more broken than the last, breaking Bucky down bit by bit. He wants to fix this, make it better, but Bucky has never been good with words. He’d been trying, for you. He will try now. 

“Tell me what happened, sweet girl?” he mumbles into the skin of your temple, lips hesitant to leave your skin. He was always better with physical communication. He was also the best at loving you like this. 

Your breathing gets choppy as you try to calm down. Shallow puffs of air meet the stitching of his sweater, and he rocks you as a way to coax a more steady pattern into your lungs. Even though he was wrought with panic, you were okay. Bucky had you, so you were okay. 

“He—he died, Buck,” you eventually choke out. “He died and then there was no—there was nothing—” your words cut off again as more tears soak his chest. 

“Who?” he stresses, although his tone doesn’t give that away. “Who, honey? Someone you know?” 

“No,” you sob. The sound knocks the air from Bucky’s lungs. 

Taking inventory in his head, that means all of his friends are safe, all of your friends. It means your awful family is alive as well, and while that doesn't matter much to him, at least he knows it isn’t the source of your strife. But the pain in your voice, the way you were limp against him and fighting for air. 

Bucky couldn’t understand. 

“Tell me who. What has you so sad, hm?” he tries, voice dropping into an even gentler tone. 

You dig your fingers into Bucky’s jacket, pulling away after a moment. Bucky reaches for you, trying to chase your figure because he wasn’t done trying to make this better, he needs to make you better. But then you slap something into his lap and he’s confused again. 

“Them,” you all but sob, turning back into the material of his jacket. 

Bucky wraps an arm around your shoulders as he inspects the book on his thighs. He’s still lost, but your crying has morphed into sniffles so he asks, “What was that, sweet girl?” 

He’s packing it on with the endearments, but seeing you like this is brutal. 

“In the book,” you explain. “They were so in love. And then he died. And afterwards—Bucky it was awful.” 

Oh. 

A book. 

This is manageable, to Bucky. You’re not in pain and he can handle this. 

He hauls you closer into his chest. You shuffle until your frame is enclosed by his. Bucky’s size had always been something he found inconvenient until you came into his life. Because after that, he found it was good at making you feel safe. A way to protect you from anything. 

Even… a book? 

Surely a book. 

“Hey, it’s alright, I got you,” he hums.

“Never die,” you whisper, and Bucky's mouth twists uncomfortably. 

“I won’t.” 

[randomsillyfangirl]

Oliver Otto x Reader

To start this off. Ik many people think that Oliver is gay, which is alright and people are allowed to think whatever they want! Me personally, I don't really give him a label. But I do think he likes girls, since he's shown much interest in them. I do not mean any harm with this post! If you do not like it- please just scroll away 💕

But anyway, again I will still be writing Pablo Gavi x Reader. I'm just watching American House Wives rn and am obsessed with Oliver lol

------------------------------------------------------------

You and your family just moved to WestPort. Your father was a famous author while your mom was the ceo of a famous book company- matched made in heaven. You were an only child, their only daughter. And in a whole new country.

In the first week of your family moving your mom and Katie became besties, your dad and Gregg became friends. But you? You felt so alone. Everyone else seemed to be snobby. You didn't like them- you weren't raised like a WestPort kid.

Your family was going to the Ottos house, they invited you to their home for a barbeque. " and young lady, you better not be on your phone or reading the whole time we're there! " your mother warned and you sighed, you really missed home and didn't wanna be around WestPort type people.

Thankfully the Ottos weren't those snobby WestPort people, but you still wanted to be alone. Taylor tried talking to you, and you two did have a conversation. " what sports are you into? " Taylor asked, but before you could respond Oliver started to insult his sister, " all sports are useless they're to get into college. You're just wasting your time. " he said and you rolled your eyes.

" actually, that's not true. What's more important is experience." you corrected him, when you made eye contact with him you had to hold back a smile, he's so cute.

Oliver was going to give you a response before Taylor stopped his comment. " you dress so... Let me dress you!! " she started to beg. You sighed and nodded, " mom, me and Taylor are going to our place to try on clothes." you told your mom, but Katie demanded that you bring Oliver too.

At your place, Taylor went through your closest. " you have really cute clothes! Why don't you wear them?" Taylor asked. " because WestPort kids don't." you sighed sitting on three bed. Oliver stood against the wall, looking around your room.

(See below for the outfit + hair Taylor chose for you)

When Oliver saw you, he smiled. Taylor noticed and her jaw dropped abit- Oliver wasn't being a bitch? What's going on!

Oliver coughed to signal to his sister to stop being weird. You smiled back at Oliver. " you're in my English, aren't you?" you asked looking at him. He nodded and chuckled, " don't forget, also in your biology." you nodded and laughed, " almost forgot."

Taylor went to ' go to the bathroom '- aka give you two some time to talk. " why'd you move to WestPort? You seem like you hate it. " Oliver asked. You sighed, " my parents wanted to expand their business from (your country) to the states too. And here, we can make connections. Everyone loves it here but me." you sighed again. Oliver sat next to you, " trust me. It gets better."

The next day at school, you wore another outfit Taylor recommend for you. (See pictures below) You didn't have any friends, so you walked in alone. You got alot of attention. You weren't wearing skinny jeans that cost $300 with some ugly expensive grandma sweater. You were wearing a Pinterest type outfit that probably cost you $20, excluding the shoes.

You were getting attention from the girls, more of them questioning you. But the boys? They liked your outfit. Yawning, you walked to your class, you could feel peoples eyes on you and you hated it.

Oliver watched you walk in. " isn't she pretty? " he heard one of the guys say and Oliver nodded. Cooper nudged his shoulder, " ceo and successful writers daughter right? Perfect for your mission. " he teased, but Oliver wasn't listening; all his focus was on you.

In English, it was a pair assignment. Cooper wasn't in his class, so nobody interrupted his plan to ask yo- who the hell is that? Some WestPort snobby guy was asking you to be his partner. " so darling, you do the work my dad will do m- " the guy was proposing his idea until you interrupted, " I'd rather get hit by a car." which seemed to annoy him. You looked over at Oliver and smiled, giving him the confidence to ask you to be his partner.

" You? Me? Working together? What do you think? " Oliver said sitting next to you. You smiled and nodded, " I'd like that. We can go to my place after school? Since I've been to yours already " you chuckled and he did as well, " I've always wondered what the house of a ceo and writer looks like. " he said making you laugh.

You lived in one of the larger houses in WestPort. Oliver was checking out the place, amazed, it was a gorgeous house. You sighed, " sorry it's not very fun.." . " it's amazing!! " Oliver basically screamed, hearing an echo. You shook your head but chuckled, " it looks nice.. But it's lonely " Oliver listened to your words, " yeah, like cooper.. " he said, sighing to keep talking " but hey, you'll make plenty of friends." he said smiling, making you smile.

You looked at him, " wanna see all the useless and expensive crap I have? " he nodded repeatedly, " umm yeah! " and his reaction made you laugh. Going into one room, " this is where my dad keeps these random glass statues. " going on into another, " my moms old coats, boringggg " and then finally, " my records and record players " you said, going into the room next to your room.

In your room, you two started your group project. Your project would last for half the school year- a massive school project.

But the two of you started to get really close during the time. He was your friend friend in WestPort, other than Taylor.

" so I was thinking, we hang out. My place. " Oliver proposed the idea to you. You nodded, " yeah sure, I'll bring the study stu- " you were saying until Oliver intrupred. " no no. No books. Just you and me. Hanging out." he clarified. You smiled and felt you cheeks go light red, " I'd like that." you told him, making him smile too.

You two went up to his room later that day. You sat on his bed, " sooo, what we doin?" you asked him. He looked at you, a little panicked, " what are we doing?" he repeated and you looked confused.

" you have no plan? "You said and then laughed at the lack of response. You weren't laughed at him, you were laughing because it was sweet. You got up," wanna see what we just got at my place? " and Oliver nodded, so you took him to your place to show him.

Your parents got in a massive library. You ran to one of the shelves, grabbing the ladder and climbing up, " there's a book in here that reminded me of you!!" you yelled, looking for the book. By ' reminded ' you meant ' I specifically asked for this book, to give to you. ' hey, that's how girls work.

You came back down to him with a book, before you could speak Oliver already took the words out of your mouth, " how did you know I wanted this book!? " well maybe not exactly what you'd say, just rearrange it.

You nodded, " thought you'd like it." you gave it to the brunette. " you can have it." And you both smiled. Oliver coughed, " I was wondering if tomorrow, you and me, alone, go out somewhere. No studying, but this time I'll have a plan.." he said, fidgeting with the corners of the book.

You smiled and nodded, " I'd like that.." Oliver was trying to ask you on a date, Taylor said that he should.. " she likes you! " Taylor yelled at Oliver. " but how do i ask her? If I ask her to go out- she'll assume it's got studying! " Oliver argued. Taylor laughed, " then ask her to go out alone, and mention no study. And people call me dumb." Taylor scoffed.

------------------------------------------------------------

I hope you enjoyed!! <3

Ik this is all over the place- but I actually had fun writing this.

For the people who asked to be tagged in a oliver otto x reader post: @y4sm1nsstuff @animesimp3456 @hunterluvr

[eliteseven]

Please can we get some autumn headcanon for Shadowheart in her cottage?

Aww sure! 🥰 idk if these are specific to autumn per se but they are cozy!

Some Shadowheart Cottagecore

🍁Autumn🍁 HC’s:

-The animals playing in falling leaves! Big trio of Buttons, Owlbear, and Scratch taking turns jumping and zooming between stacks of raked leaves. Shadowheart watches with such delight, until Tav yanks her into a pile herself. She laughs with such childlike delight, and it makes Tav’s heart sing, bc she deserved this happiness her entire life 🥺💕 so she takes it upon herself to be the one to give it to her. They play in the leaves like children. Arnell and Emmeline get emotional watching from afar.

-Shadowheart enjoys cuddling with Daphne in the warmth of the barn (they give her some extra bedding for the cold) and all the animals like to cuddle up beside them 🥹 they probably make some blankets and maybe even sweaters for their animal crew, too.

-Hot cider! Spiced wine! Warm drinks that get them pleasantly buzzed and swaying together on those cool autumn nights. Shadowheart getting tipsy and her boisterous laughter making Tav feel warmer than any fire ever could

-Shadowheart likes watching Tav cut firewood. Something about her girl working up a sweat and those arms holding an axe…. 🥵 but lbr Tav enjoys watching Shads doing the same things so they’re probably splitting the duties fairly 😅

-Well, we have to talk about their crops, right? It would be harvest time! Arnell, Emmeline, Tav, Shads, and a legion of animals in their gardens, reaping the benefits of a fruitful season! Plus food storage for all these crops- they’ll have their hands full! But it’s rewarding ☺️

-also: sharing their surplus harvest with the local families/kids? Shadowheart and Tav getting hardcore baby fever when they host a little dinner at their place for their closest neighbors? Shadowheart especially warming up to the idea that the kids love her??? 😭

-colder weather means warmer clothes and Emmeline’s scarves!!! They buy a lot of their clothes from the city but Emmeline takes so much pride in feeling useful 🥹💕idc if ugly sweaters don’t exist here, they do now! She makes matching ones for Tav and Shads.

-staying in bed longer bc it’s cold out 🥰 reading books, talking, just cuddling together under the furs. Shadowheart increasingly likes the animals on the bed the colder it gets. There is no room for Tav to move even an inch. She looks at Shadowheart’s absolute grin as she’s buried under a mountain of fluff and she wouldn’t trade it for the world.

-bringing each other tea on particularly chilly days and stealing each other away from chores for a moment of peace 🥹

- this is a bit wintery but the lake freezing over? Something in my heart tells me Shadowheart would be SO graceful in whatever the BG3 equivalent of ice skating is. Gliding so gracefully over a frozen body of water, the same kind that used to terrify her? While Tav does her best impression of a slipping and sliding baby deer? 🥹😭 she’d be so proud. And when baby Jen comes? Oh, the three of them would simply have the best time together.

[sinful-lanterns]

I've seen someone say Chelseas cat in university au is a mane coon but hear me out, naked sphinx cat, it's pink, affectionate to seek warm, and we can put her in cute outfits

BAISNDOWJEKE SITRI BEING A NAKED SPHINX CAT 🥺

She’s so hideous it’s adorable. Chelsea pampers the hell out of Sitri too, and every time you come over to visit Chelsea’s apartment, you just see Sitri decked out in a new (probably expensive) sweater while she nuzzles up between your legs.

I like to think that everyone is a little scared of Sitri because SHE BE BALD, but Reader doesn’t think Sitri is ugly and loves her just as much as Chelsea does 💕

Maybe that’s why Chelsea loves you so much…

[capskat26]

Season’s Greetings from the Arcadia House!! 🎄🍷

RDR2 Modern AU piece based on @snikt-snack's “Arcadia for Modernists” series!

I have had this drawing sitting in my WIPs for literally 3 years and decided to actually sit down and finish it this year. 🤣 Inspired by:

(also Albert’s sweater is based on an actual ugly Chanukah sweater of mine)

To all who celebrate: have a safe and happy holiday season! 💕

[e-dubbc11]

One More Sleep

Photos are not mine except bottom center, that is me with real life Ginger. All others are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Billy Russo x F! Reader

Warnings: None really…little angst if you squint, maybe a swear word or two but mostly pure Christmas fluff, all the bunnies and all the unicorns. Alludes to smexy time.

Word Count: 5.7K-ish

Summary: Part of the Gingerverse. You and Billy were married in January and are excited to spend your first Christmas together as a married couple but he takes a job out of town close to Christmas and he may not be back in time to celebrate with you or attend your work ugly sweater Christmas party.

A/N: Title is a song by Leona Lewis off of her album, Christmas with Love. Real life Ginger did pick her Christmas karaoke song and another one that I put together in a Christmas karaoke playlist that I’ll link at the end. Frank and Reader have more interaction with each other in this one. It’s pure fun with a little bit of conflict. I hope you like it and enjoy your holiday season!🎄

As always, thank you for reading!  I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

“Why can’t someone else go, Billy?” You asked with an elevated tone.

His open garment bag was on the bed, a few crisp suits and ties rested on top as he packed his toiletry bag. You weren’t the only one who was having a hard time with the fact that Billy had a job out of town so close to Christmas, he was too.

He hated disappointing you which is why he was trying very hard not to look at you.

Your arms were folded protectively across your chest as you leaned against the bathroom door frame while he angrily threw things into his bag.

“You think I wanna be away from you, baby?! It was either me or Frankie and I’d rather not take him away from his family this time of year. He was away from them enough when we were deployed.” He said.

His voice was low and angry. You knew he didn’t want to leave you but he had no choice, it was a big opportunity for the company and the team to travel to D.C. for a job. He just didn’t know exactly how long it was going to take.

This was supposed to be your first Christmas together since you got married back in January so when he told you about this job, you were very happy for him and the company but also sad that he might not be home for Christmas.

“I know, Billy. I just wanted to spend my first Christmas as a married woman with my husband.” You said, relaxing your shoulders and dropping your arms away from your chest.

Billy looked up from the bathroom counter and into the mirror to look at your reflection. He smiled that perfect smile at you, the one he always gave you when he didn’t want you to be mad at him anymore.

It was hard to stay mad at him when he flashed that smile at you but you weren’t really mad, just a little sad and disappointed.

He turned around and held his arms outstretched, he wanted to hold you.

“Come here, sweet girl.” He said softly.

Billy pulled you into his chest and kissed the top of your head. You snaked your arms around his torso and you could hear his heart beating against your ear. The tension in your shoulders eased as you closed your eyes and felt the warmth radiating off of his body; he always managed to make you feel better.

“Well, if I’m not home in time, that just means you get to spend Christmas Day with Ginger.” He said. “So it’s not all bad but I will try my hardest to get home in time.”

You could feel him smile against the top of your head.

“No, it’s not all bad. But if you’re not back in time, you’re gonna miss my ugly Christmas sweater party at work too.” You said in a disappointed tone.

Billy tilted your chin up so you were looking into his rich brown eyes, they looked like two endless pools of black ink and you never failed to get lost in them. He leaned forward and gently pressed his lips to yours. You could taste the fresh peppermint on his lips as you delicately scraped your nails against his scalp.

“I know, I’m so sorry my love. But I put Frankie in charge of that job, your company wanted security for it, I guess in past years you guys have had some party crashers?” He asked.

This was the first you were hearing about your company hiring Anvil for security at your party so it caught you off guard.

“Oh! Yeah we’ve had some crashers in the past. So wait, Frank will be at the party? Oh, Ginger is gonna torture him. Did you tell him there’s usually karaoke?” You asked.

Billy gave you a devilish smile.

“No, but here’s the best part…I told him he had to wear an ugly Christmas sweater because that’s what your company wanted but that was a lie. He’ll be the only one from the team wearing one. He’s gonna kill me but it’s gonna be really funny.” He said with a wide smile and raised eyebrows.

“Billy Russo!! That is SO mean!” You exclaimed, trying to hold in your laughter.

He kissed you again.

“I know, but hey that’s what we do…we prank each other. This is a good one though! And don’t you dare say anything.” He said, pointing his long slender finger at you while you were biting down on your lower lip.

God, you loved him so much.

“I promise I won’t say anything.” You said.

“I love you, sweet girl.” He whispered in your ear.

You smiled affectionately at him and replied. “I love you too, handsome. Ooh I can’t wait to tell Ginger!”

You turned and ran out of your bedroom toward the kitchen when Billy called after you.

“Hey, what did I say?!”

You yelled back from the kitchen. “Oh she’s not gonna say anything, Billy! Trust me, she’s gonna want that to happen more than anyone!”

He just shook his head and smiled.

God, he loved you.

**********

“Wait…so I need to make sure I heard you correctly. Frank thinks he has to wear an ugly Christmas sweater to the party because that’s what work wants him to do? So he ‘blends in?’” Said Ginger, typing away on her keyboard.

You turned your head to answer her. “Correct.”

A wide Cheshire cat smile stretched across her face.

“Aaaaaand Billy told the rest of the team to dress in their normal work clothes and not to tell Frank about it?” She asked.

You nodded. “Yes.”

“Oh my god, this is gonna be the best party ever! He also has no idea we have karaoke at this thing, does he?!” She asked, full of excitement.

“Nope!” You replied.

“He’s gonna be PISSED!!” Ginger said, clapping her hands together. “I gotta figure out which Christmas songs to sing!”

The wide smile slowly disappeared from your face. You were excited for the party and had the perfect ugly Christmas sweater but remembering that Billy may not make it back in time for the party OR for Christmas was a little upsetting. You tried to smile anyway but Ginger could see right through it.

“Billy may not make it back in time, huh?” She asked.

Shaking your head vigorously back and forth, you answered, “He said he’s not sure how long this job was going to take. Was I wrong to be upset with him for going out of town so close to Christmas?”

“You have a right to be upset, all you wanted was to spend Christmas with your husband and now you might not be able to…anyone would be disappointed.” She said.

You nodded.

“But hey, even if he doesn’t make it back, I’m gonna make sure we have a fun Christmas. Ok?” She said with a warm smile. “I’m gonna get champagne, breakfast food, oh and we’re soooooo sleeping at your place because…penthouse! Make sure my room is ready!”

Life was certainly better with friends like Ginger and you were probably just as excited as she was to see the look on Frank’s face when he realizes that he didn’t have to wear the sweater and Billy pranked him.

Even though it would be difficult, you were going to try and enjoy the rest of the holiday season.

**********

You tried to keep as busy as possible.

There were days where you went shopping with Ginger, or had dinner with the Castle family because Frank and Maria didn’t want you to be inside the penthouse all alone.

Before he left for his trip, Billy had put your Christmas tree up. You loved that the penthouse had high ceilings so you could pick out a very large tree but a real one didn’t fit in the elevator so you settled for a very real looking artificial tree. Nothing was more important to Billy than to see a smile on your face or make you laugh and he knew that setting the tree up would make you happy.

So most nights you would sit in the dark with only the tree lights on, drinking your tea, and looking at all of the ornaments. The soft warm glow of the white lights illuminated the ornaments in front of them nicely.

Your parents let you take the ones from your childhood that used to be on their tree, then there were the ornaments Billy had given you, and the ones that the Castle children had made for you that had their pictures on the inside. It really warmed your heart that they called you “Auntie.”

The busy streets below shined brightly with festive white lights placed in trees and buildings all around the city. There wasn’t anything quite like New York City at Christmas time.

Looking out at the moon, you wondered if Billy was doing the same. It loomed large encased in an ethereal glow while the bitter winter wind howled past the window. You suddenly felt cold; you missed him terribly and wanted him home but there wasn’t anything you could do about it except wait.

Billy had already been gone for a week, Christmas was four days away, and he still didn’t know when he would be coming home. A tear streaked down your cheek remembering the phone call with him earlier. That one did not end well.

“Wait, so you might miss New Year’s too?!” You had said, sternly.

Touching the palm of your hand to your forehead, you had closed your eyes, trying very hard not to get upset with him but the stress had been too much.

It was a little lonely working all day and then coming home to an empty apartment, listening to Christmas music and looking at the tree alone, baking cookies without him sneaking one when you weren’t looking, or taking a sip of your hot chocolate before giving it to you to make sure it wasn’t “too hot.”

“Hey, I’m not doing this on purpose, alright?! You know I hate being away from you but this is my job, sweet girl. You know this! You know who you married, I’m not always a 9-5!” He had yelled.

He was right. It wasn’t his fault; you knew who you married and it was good business for him but before you could apologize, he had ended the call. Billy was the closest person to you: It was just easy to take it out on him and he didn’t deserve that.

You tried to call him back but it went to his voicemail.

“I’m so sorry, Billy. I know some things can’t be helped and it’s not your fault. It’s good for your business and I’m happy you’re doing so well. I just miss you…I love you, baby.”

Billy shuts down when he gets angry and still doesn’t quite know how to navigate his anger so he keeps it all inside, and then it comes out sometimes in explosive ways.

You had a feeling you may not hear from him for a couple of days.

**********

“So he just hung up on you?” Asked Ginger.

You needed to have an after work drink and vent the next day.

“I shouldn’t have snapped at him, Ginger.” You replied.

“And you haven’t heard from him today?” She asked.

You shook your head.

“No…and I doubt that I will. I tried to call and apologize but he didn’t answer.” You said, taking a sip of beer.

“Well hey, our party is tomorrow, Christmas is in three days, and I know he’s not here with you but we’re gonna have fun alright?” Said Ginger. “Plus we get to bust Frank’s balls about the sweater. Maria said it’s a good one but she wants it to be a surprise.”

She started to laugh which brought a smile to your face and made you laugh too.

The two of you clinked your glasses of beer together.

“Thank you for making today better, Ginger.”

“You are very welcome!” She replied.

**********

December 23

It was your last day of work for the year. The company always shuts down for the week between Christmas and New Year’s, not completely but most of the employees have a bit of a break which is really nice but again, you didn’t want to spend it alone.

That was another reason you got upset with Billy; you have a week off from work coming up and before he went away, he told you maybe he would take a couple of days off with you but now that was also in jeopardy.

On your way out of the building, you could see the silvery gray clouds overhead and the air was dry yet it had a fresh scent to it. It smelled like snow. The scent brought you back to your wedding day when Billy smelled the snow coming…and he wasn’t wrong. The weekend he proposed to you, you told him it smelled like it was going to snow.

Until you told him, he had no idea incoming snow had a scent. You weren’t even sure that it did but it always smelled the same to you and your nose was never wrong. And now you were on your way home, about to get ready for your Christmas party but you couldn’t get Billy off of your mind.

You missed him.

It was difficult to concentrate on getting ready when all you could think of was Billy but luckily Ginger came over and distracted you as you were getting ready.

The two of you had matching ugly sweaters so you obviously had to show up to the party at the same time. The sweaters were red and green, wrapped in silver garland with red and green Christmas bulb ornaments on the front and back.

“These are gonna be such a hit!” She said, excitedly. “They are so loud but so fun!”

“The only thing that would make them better is if they lit up.” You said with a smile.

“Well, we’ll look for something like that next year, let’s go!” Said Ginger.

She pulled you out the door by your coat and the two of you headed for the elevator. On your way down to the ground floor, she reassured you it was going to be a great night, you were going to have fun, and maybe get your mind off of Billy even if it’s just for a little while.

You really hoped she was right.

When you arrived at the party, it looked like the company really outdid themselves this year with everything…the food, the decorations, and of course, the security.

Frank was hard to miss in his sweater…it was gray with snowflakes all over it and it had the body of an elf on it so Frank’s head was also the elf’s head.

You tried your best but you and Ginger could hardly contain your laughter.

“That’s uh, a nice sweater Frank.” You said, trying to control yourself.

Ginger was practically in tears, she was laughing so hard.

“Maria was right, that is a good one!” She cackled.

Frank folded his arms across his chest, trying to cover up the body of the elf but it didn’t help. The more uncomfortable he looked, the funnier it was.

“I’m gonna wring your husband’s neck when he gets back, you know that don’t ya?!” He bellowed. “I’m the only one dressed like this!”

Another member of the security team saw Frank in his sweater.

“Lookin’ good, Castle.”

“Yeah? You think this is funny, Wilcox? Keep walkin’ and go do your job!” Said Frank.

“We’ll be back later, Frank! Hope you’re ready for karaoke later!” Ginger said, walking away.

Frank stopped you while Ginger walked away to go mingle.

“Your husband’s a dead man, kid. Tell him right now, I’ll wait.” Frank said.

The smile disappeared from your face. “Yeah, he’s not too happy with me right now, Frank. I, uh, got angry with him when he said that in addition to maybe not being here for Christmas, he may not make it home in time for New Year’s either.” You said in a low voice.

The tears that welled up in your eyes was instant, almost like it was a reflex. You hated fighting with Billy but you were under added stress with the holiday’s coming, family obligations, parties, etc.

You explained to Frank that it was just a busy time of year and everyone had slowly been chipping away at your patience level and you took it out on Billy when he didn’t deserve it. You just wanted to spend Christmas with your new husband.

Frank put a hand on your shoulder and squeezed.

“I know what it’s like to not be with your family during the holidays, kid. I couldn’t thank Bill enough for letting me stay behind so I could spend this time with Maria and the kids. But I know that he hates that he’s had to spend this time away from you. He told me the other day when I talked to him. You are his family.” He said.

The side of your mouth curled up into a half smile as you gently brushed the tear away from your cheek. Billy Russo was your husband, the love of your life, and the person that made you happier than you ever thought you could be.

But no matter how many times you reassured him of your love for him, sometimes he was still scared that if he didn’t do everything perfectly, that you might end up leaving like his mother had done or anyone else that he had cared for.

Billy was strong; he was a survivor and had already gone through so much heartache that you tried your very best to make sure he knew he was loved and that you weren’t going to abandon him…ever. You showed him that he didn’t have to try so hard to be the perfect husband, the perfect lover, or the perfect friend because nobody was perfect.

You certainly weren’t. But you were perfect to Billy because you loved him more than anyone ever has. He finally had what he had always wanted which is why he tried so hard to not disappoint you and shutting down was easier than trying to say how he felt.

It was something that was always a work in progress with him; he needed to hear those words…”I’m not going anywhere, Billy. You can tell me, it’s ok. You are good enough.”

But sometimes, you would need that reminder too. You needed to remember that he needed that extra coaxing and encouragement so you could continue to help him put back together the pieces of that fragmented little boy inside that he desperately wanted to fix. And he worked very hard at that…for you.

“I love him so much, Frank.” You said with a hitch in your voice.

Frank smirked. “He loves you too, kid. It’ll be alright…you’ll see.”

“Is Frankie the elf gonna go tell Santa what I want for Christmas?” You started to laugh.

He couldn’t help himself; he started to laugh too.

“Ya know, we were having a nice moment and you had to remind me that I’m wearing this ridiculous sweater!” The gruff tone to his voice sounded even more intense but he was still smiling. “Alright, get outta here, go have fun and lemme do my job, yeah?”

“Thank you, Frank.” You said with a playful smile.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart…Bill’s still a dead man though.” He asserted. “Ginger was kidding about the karaoke, right?”

A sly smile stretched across your lips as you walked away.

“RIGHT?!!!” Frank called out after you.

“See ya later, Frank!” You answered back and waved.

Now you were ready to have a little fun.

**********

The lights dimmed a little lower after dinner, the bar was open, and it was almost time for karaoke. Frank looked more and more uncomfortable by the minute. Not only was he in a silly Christmas sweater, he was going to be subjected to Ginger’s singing until the party was over. She tended to hog the microphone at parties like this but no one minded because she was so entertaining.

If you asked Frank though, he would most definitely disagree which made her performances even more entertaining to see the grumpy look on his face. He couldn’t even leave the room because he had a job to do.

He held it together for the most part but the song that had him wanting to fling himself out into traffic was Christmas Wrapping by the Waitresses. What’s not fun about watching Frank squirm while Ginger entertains the room? It definitely had you in stitches.

Bah, humbug!" No, that's too strong

'Cause it is my favorite holiday

But all this year's been a busy blur

Don't think I have the energy

To add to my already mad rush

Just 'cause it's 'tis the season.

The perfect gift for me would be

Completions and connections

left from Last year, ski shop,

Encounter, most interesting.

Had his number but never the time

Most of '81 passed along those lines.

So deck those halls, trim those trees

Raise up cups of Christmas cheer,

I just need to catch my breath,

Christmas by myself this year.

Ginger did her best to get everyone in the room to sing along too. “Come on everyone! Help me out here! Frank loves this song!”

Merry Christmas! Merry Christmas!

But I think I'll miss this one this year

Merry Christmas! Merry Christmas!

But I think I'll miss this one this year

Mingling around the room, you conversed with co-workers, had a couple of drinks, and then decided it was time for you to do a couple of songs.

Billy was usually your focal point, staring intently at you with his infectious smile that lit up any room. The way he looked at you showed everyone how much he was in love with you and that you were the only woman in the world for him.

The duet you and Ginger did of Baby It’s Cold Outside was a HUGE hit. The two of you were in matching sweaters, so of course you had to do a duet of some sort and you had a blast doing it. Frank did seem to enjoy that performance from the sly smirk you noticed across his mouth.

When Ginger walked away and left you by yourself with the microphone, you were nervous so you felt the need to explain the reason why you chose the next song. You gave them all the short version.

“My husband is out of town at the moment and I really miss him. So I keep hoping that it’s only one more sleep until I get to see him again.” You said softly into the microphone.

Snow is falling all around us

My baby's coming home for Christmas

I've been up all night inside my bedroom

He said that he'll be with me real soon

You weren’t quite the entertainer that Ginger was but your performance wasn’t bad.

So I wait

And I wait

But I've had as much as I can take

'Cause I've got 5 more

nights of sleeping on my own

4 more days until you're coming home

3 more dreams of you and mistletoe

2 more reasons why I love you so

I've got 5 more nights

until you're next to me

4 more days of being lonely

3 more wishes I can barely breathe

If I can make it to

Christmas Eve then it's

One more sleep

(one more sleep until it's Christmas)

One more sleep

(Can't believe how much I missed us)

One more sleep

(One more sleep until it's Christmas)

One more sleep

When you looked off to the side, you noticed Frank talking on the phone. His eyes kept shifting from the entrances to the room then to you and back to the entrances. You assumed he was just doing his job but you did wonder who he was talking to.

Now I don't think I can remember

A cold and lonelier December

And I find myself staring at the window

Wondering when you're

gonna get back home

It had been a little lonely the past couple of weeks but you had great friends that were there to make sure you were ok and didn’t have to spend the season alone.

So I try

And I try

But there is nothing I

can do to pass this time

I've got 5 more nights

of sleeping on my own

4 more days until you're coming home

3 more dreams of you and mistletoe

2 more reasons why I love you so

I've got 5 more nights

until you're next to me

4 more days of being lonely

3 more wishes I can barely breathe

If I can make it to

Christmas Eve then it's

One more sleep

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed movement over where Frank was standing. A tall slender silhouette glided into the room, the man’s back facing you as Frank talked with him.

Frank was all smiles when he embraced the other man, also in an ugly sweater; they were both laughing and pointing at the other’s sweater; he squeezed his shoulder and glanced over at you as the other man turned around to look at you.

Until we're rocking

around the Christmas tree

Until I got you sitting next to me

We got a lot of catching up to do

I just can't take this missing you

Even with the lights down low, you knew that smile anywhere.

As Billy came closer, you could see his sweater better. It was black and white with red along the collar, the cuffs and the hem. Pictures of reindeer, Christmas trees, snowflakes and candy canes were splashed all over it. The sweater was hideous.

5 more nights on my own

4 more days

3 more dreams

Mistletoe

I can't believe I ever let you go

5 more nights of sleeping on my own

4 more days until you're coming home

3 more wishes I can barely breathe

If I can make it to Christmas

Eve then it's one more sleep

It'll be one more

It'll be one more

(One more sleep)

It'll be one more

(One more sleep)

One more sleep

You weren’t even sure the microphone was back on its stand before you took off running. Before you could jump into his arms, he held his hand out to stop you.

“Whoa, wait one second sweet girl!” He said with a welcoming smile.

Confused, you stopped just short of crashing into him when he reached into his sleeve and pressed something. Lights all over his sweater started to twinkle and he extended both of his arms, welcoming you into an embrace.

“Merry Christmas, beautiful.” Said Billy, pulling you into his chest.

He squeezed you tightly and you, in turn, squeezed back. His body was a warm cradle for yours as you rested your ear against his chest. “Merry Christmas, handsome.”

Cupping your cheeks, his liquid brown eyes flicked from your eyes to your mouth as he leaned in to kiss you. His long slender fingers traced down the hollow of your throat and the bristles of his beard raked against your soft cheeks.

“Are you surprised?” He asked.

“I think you know the answer to that, baby.” You lightly touched your lips with your fingertips, trying to place the sweet taste to Billy’s lips. “Is that chocolate, I taste?” You asked him.

Billy chuckled. “Well when I stopped home to change into my sweater, I found the cookies you made.” He said.

“You sniffed out those chocolate chip cookies inside the sealed Tupperware?!” You asked.

He winked at you. “I found the peanut butter ones too. You’ve been busy! They’re delicious.”

“You are such a sugar junkie, my love.” You said with a playful smile.

The smile on your face quickly disappeared in favor of a slight frown while you tried to apologize to him.

“It’s alright, sweet girl. You already apologized…I’m—I’m sorry too. What I’m NOT sorry about is having Frankie wear this sweater! That is a good one.” He laughed.

Frank pressed his lips together in a straight line, a look of embarrassment washed over his face along with playful hate for Billy.

“The only reason I don’t give you a black eye right now is because y/n is so happy you made it home.” Frank growled. “Oh no, Ginger has the microphone again. What time is this party over anyway?! I can only take so much, kid.” He said.

You glanced at your watch. “Thirty more minutes, Frank. And are you saying you DON’T wanna do this again next year? Ginger will be disappointed if you don’t.” You giggled.

Billy couldn’t take his eyes away from you. His stare was incessant and made the hair on the back of your neck stand up but in a good way. He drew your hand up to his lips and planted a soft kiss along your knuckles sending delightful sparks down your spine.

“I’ll gladly go out of town for a job so I don’t have to do this again next year!” Said Frank. “But I like seeing you smile, sweetheart. And as much as I wanna slap that smirk off of his face, I like seeing this guy smile too.” He said, pointing at Billy.

“Come with me, beautiful. I wanna show you something.” Billy said into your ear.

Clinging to him tightly, you didn’t want to let him go but you let him lead you out of the room. His fingers laced with yours, you had to take two steps at a time to keep up with his long strides.

Frank called out after the two of you. “HEY!! Where do you two think you’re goin’?!! Don’t leave me here alone listening to this!!”

You and Billy left the room while Frank was forced to listen to Ginger do her best Mariah Carey impression.

Oh, I just want you for my own

More than you could ever know

Make my wish come true

Oh, baby, all I want for Christmas is youuuuuuuuu!!!

“Where are we going, Billy?” You asked.

He turned to look at you over his shoulder. “Just outside.”

As you got closer to the door, you could see the sidewalk was covered by a light dusting of snow, the street lamps illuminated the snow as it gently fell from the sky, and the cold winter air stung your lungs as he ushered you outside.

The snowflakes were so big, they almost didn’t look real and the surrounding city sounds were muted as a subtle smile stretched across your lips.

“I knew it…I could smell it on my walk home today. Is this my Christmas gift, handsome? You brought home snow!” You exclaimed, your hand tightening firmly around his.

Billy shook his head, clusters of snowflakes gathered in his rich brown hair and his eyes locked on yours. The feeling of butterflies in your stomach gradually intensified as he continued to gaze at you, not noticing people on either side of you passing by.

“I wish I could take credit for this, baby but have you noticed that it we’ve had snow during some of our biggest relationship milestones?” He asked, pulling you in close again.

He noticed too.

“When we got engaged…the day we got married…and now our first married ‘almost’ Christmas.” You replied with a warm smile. “I thought about that earlier today, actually.”

It was cold but with Billy’s arms wrapped around you, the cold didn’t seem to bother you. You could only imagine what you look like to the people walking around outside, holding each other in the snow with your ugly Christmas sweaters on with Billy’s actually flashing different colors but it was nothing less than perfect.

“It’s been ok the past year, hasn’t it?” He asked with concern in his voice.

You pulled away to look at him. “What do you mean, Billy?”

“Our marriage…I know we fight sometimes but I—“ He said before you cut him off.

Billy Russo wasn’t scared of anything. He had been to war, survived childhood trauma, and found the one thing he thought he’d never have…love. Not only did he fall in love, that person in turn, loved him back.

“Of course we fight, Billy! I’d be worried if we didn’t! How many times do I have to tell you that you don’t need to be perfect?” You asked him.

His lips curled into a shy smile. “At least one more time, sweet girl.”

“Billy Russo, I will always fight for you and I will never give up on you as long as you try…as long as we both try. I don’t need you to be perfect. All I want and all I need is you.” You said, trying not to let your tears fall but failing miserably. “I love you.”

You felt his warm breath against your eyelashes before he leaned in to kiss you, the scent of his cologne on his sweater was faint but still there, and his cold fingers wrapped around your neck like a necklace.

You drew in a sharp breath as his mouth slanted over yours, parting your lips with his tongue, kissing you desperately, and telling you over and over again how much he loved you.

“I love you too, baby.” He said softly. “You ready to go back inside?”

“Y-y-yes.” You replied, your teeth chattering slightly.

“We’re taking Ginger home with us, I’m assuming?” Asked Billy.

“Her room is ready and waiting.” You said. “She’ll be with us for Christmas too.”

A devilish smile extended across Billy’s mouth, a smile that you knew all too well, and with that smile, you knew you were in trouble as soon as you got home.

“I hope she packed noise cancelling headphones because, Mrs. Russo, your sweater is really doin’ it for me.” He purred in your ear.

You could feel yourself blushing as you replied.

“Oh…you’re not joking, are you.”

He had a feral look in his eyes when he slowly shook his head back and forth. You wanted him just as badly as you whispered back,

“Well…let’s go home then, Mr. Russo. You can probably get a better look at it if I JUST wear the sweater.”

Tag List: @wheresthesunshinesblog @rafaelakelley @idaoftheburningmind @snowkestrel @fakehappy27 @music-indie-tv @fictional-hooman @kayhi808 @munsonownsmyass @gijos @celestialams @k-marzolf @nutmeg17 @rosaleenablack @vaguekayla @qu1etwolf @danzer8705 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes

Others that might enjoy: @itwasthereaminuteago @fluffyprettykitty @jvanilly @imagine-a-fictional-boyfriend

If you’d like to be added (or removed from) my tag list(s) for the ever so handsome Billy Russo, just let me know and thank you again for reading! 💕💕💕 If I tagged you but you didn’t want to be, just let me know and I’ll never do it again.

[siriuslysatorusimping]

Kiko’s Masterlist

This is a Master for the important links for my stories 😊

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Another Level Masterlist

Status: Complete

“You’re a Zenin.”

More like an unwanted mistake. Which, funny enough, had actually been the first words she ever heard her father say to her. - Kurisaki Rinko was born an unwanted bastard child to the Zenin clan, having since grown into an unwanted bastard adult. Her stubborn refusal to be discarded resulted in a display of strength that many would call (they had, many times to her face, in fact) an unhinged lack of self-preservation. But lucky for her, that unhinged display caught the attention of a particular blue-eyed menace who happens to be more fun to rile up than anyone she’s ever met.

Read Another Level on AO3

Physical Paradox Masterlist

Status: In Progress

How they went from: “I’m kinda impressed,” Gojo stated, sliding his sunglasses onto his face. “Didn’t expect a psych major to know this much about philosophical theory.” Rinko blinked at him slowly, raising her eyebrows as she scoffed. “I’m sorry, mister unresolved childhood trauma,” she said, stepping closer and poking a finger in his chest. “But I don’t really give a fuck if you’re impressed.”

To: “Your professor is leading the world of cognitive and behavioral research,” Gojo told Rinko's students, chest swelling with pride. “And she’s really pretty-” “Oh, she’s fucking gorgeous!” he agreed. “She has it all. Smart, funny, beautiful. She’s honestly perfect. It’s incredible she-” “Married you?” Touma interjected. “I know. I thought the same thing when I first met you.”

Read Physical Paradox on AO3

Gokudō Masterlist

Status: On Hold (I will finish this eventually, though)

Gokudō (極道): the extreme path. A term used to refer to members of a Yakuza syndicate.

-

“Now, why is a pretty girl like you in an ugly place like this?” “Some might say the contrast is tragically poetic,” she replied easily. “Yeah, well,” he drawled, a smirk pulling at his lips as he stepped up to stand beside her. “Others would say it’s tragically idiotic. What’s your name, pretty girl?” “Shouldn’t you introduce yourself first?” she asked, her pulse jumping at his quiet chuckle. “You already know who I am.”

-

She never asked to be part of this world. A world filled with greed and violence and revenge. She never asked to be part of the world where life was as meaningless as dust. The world stained red by the blood that pooled beneath her mother’s body after she was forced to watch her die. She never asked to be part of the world driven by hatred and bloodlust, but she never asked to leave, either.

Read Gokudō on AO3

One-Shots

Before I Love You - (angsty Gojo/Rinko AU, hopeful ending) - Part 2: Broken Lens | Author's Discussion

Fight Me? - (Nurse!Gojo shoots his shot with a grumpy patient)

The Theft - (Two broken hearts, ten years of separation, and a stolen sweater)

Blurbs

For Your Health - (College!Gojo just wants to help his girlfriend stay healthy)

Untitled Unfinished Angst - (very angsty Goinko bc Kiko is not ok)

Built to Break - (exes to lovers au with a lil extra trauma sprinkled bc Kiko is never ok)

Previews

Untitled (a self-indulgent Goinko AU about healthy relationships) - Preview 2

Bittersweet Memories (an angsty au inspired by The Vow)

Locked Out (College AU Shortseries)

Random Asks and Kiko's Rants

Ask: Advice for AO3 writers and when you're in a creativity rut

Ask: How Do I plan the plot for stories?

Rant: The issue with meaningless angst

Kiko's Original Work

Sample: Summary and blurbs

Sample: Blurbs 2

Meet some characters

Another Life - Short Story